Celtic Pride

As she sips a cup of tea while gazing at her garden, Carolyn Terry is often struck with awe. No matter the weather or time of year, the beauty of nature never ceases to astound her. It nourishes her spirit, she said, and connects her to God.

“I look at the different shades of green, the birds, the plants and I give thanks to our Creator,” said Terry, reflecting upon the scene in her backyard – the warm sunshine, the patches of dainty snowdrops that have begun to bloom, the sparrows and chickadees chirping in the trees. “Nature makes you aware of how God is present in everything.”

About 10 years ago, Terry found herself drawn to a spirituality rooted in God and the goodness of creation – a way of being in the world that delights in nature while honoring the sacredness of even the most ordinary moments of life.

Known as Celtic spirituality, this faith expression stems from the Christianity practiced by the peoples of the British Isles during the early Middle Ages. In recent years, it has experienced a renewal among Christians of all denominations, including Roman Catholics, Episcopalians and Presbyterians.

Celtic spirituality resonates not only with Christians of Celtic heritage who have made the pilgrimage to their ancestral homeland; it also speaks to environmentalists and others who care about the stewardship of the planet, to women seeking equality instead of hierarchy in their churches, and to those who find God in everyone and everything.

Most people probably don’t think about the Celts except during this time of year as they revel in the name of St. Patrick – the man who introduced Christianity to the Celts around 431 A.D. But for people like Terry and others in the region, the spirit and teachings of this ancient indigenous people remain alive and relevant today.

According to J. Philip Newell, an internationally acclaimed expert on the topic of Celtic spirituality and the former warden of Iona Abbey in the Western Isles of Scotland, the Celtic tradition has two main elements: a belief that the image of God lies within each person and a belief in the essential goodness of creation.

“If the Church’s symbols and rituals pointed more clearly to the world as God’s dwelling-place, we might then more fully rediscover that God’s heartbeat can be heard in the whole of life and at the heart of our own lives, if we will only listen,” Newell wrote in “Listening for the Heartbeat of God: A Celtic Spirituality.”

The Celts had prayers for every detail of life – from rising in the morning and making breakfast to milking the cow, lighting a fire and going to bed, explained Sister Jane Comerford, a third-generation Irish American who has taught local workshops on Celtic spirituality.

“Their concept of God was that of divine presence,” explained Comerford, a member of the Sisters of St. Joseph. “These prayers were part of that concept that God is surrounding you, protecting you and guiding you.”

The mindfulness practiced by the Celts also can be applied to modern-day life, she said. Ordinary, everyday actions, such as turning on the computer or starting the car, could easily be accompanied by prayer or intention.

“It’s more of a mindset I have,” she said. “Wherever I go, whatever I do, I’m held in that divine presence so that I try to live in that consciousness.”

Terry, 64 and a member of the Episcopal Cathedral of St. John the Evangelist, says that Celtic Christianity is about “meeting God every day.” It is a spirituality that looks to nature as a way to bring awareness of God, but is also steeped in Scripture and the world.

Terry’s first introduction to Celtic spirituality began with the poetry and prayers of David Adam, an English coal miner turned Anglican priest and the former vicar of Holy Island of Lindisfarne. The priest’s short, rhythmic meditations spoke to her and reinforced her own “mystic sense of awe” for God’s creation, she recalled. She soon discovered that Celtic spirituality deepened her own faith and provided her with a kind of a mission statement for life.

“Celtic spirituality is the embracing of all,” explained Comerford. “The Celts were people that absorbed and integrated Christianity into their life. … There’s a focus on openness and love, on living in right relationship with all of nature and all of humanity.”

When Comerford first visited the island of Iona, something inside her felt as though she had come home, she said. She not only saw people who physically resembled her, she said, but she also experienced an “inner-knowing.”

“I sensed this energy, a healing,” Comerford said, recalling that first visit in 1990. “I thought to myself, ‘This is my place. This is my culture. This is where I belong.’ “

Since then, Comerford has taken people from the Inland Northwest on tours of the Celtic lands to deepen their understanding of the region’s history and spirituality. Her own faith life also has been invigorated by the Celtic traditions and by living in the forest near Newport, Wash., where she experiences nature firsthand.

Together with members of the Anam Cara Circle – a Gaelic word meaning “soul friend” – Comerford celebrates the Celtic holidays through friendship and rituals. Just last month, she and others honored St. Brigit, Celtic goddess and Christian saint, during the Celtic festival of Imbolc. Since Brigit is the patroness of midwives, poets and craftsmen, Comerford asked three people who work in each of those fields to read a prayer. The 16 or so members of the Anam Cara Circle also celebrated St. Brigit’s feast day through meditation, music, readings and by planting seeds in small containers as a way to represent their hopes and aspirations.

The rituals “always leave me energized,” said Comerford. “There’s a communal sense of relationship and a deep sense of the mystical in these celebrations. The experience is very rich and deep and it feeds my soul.”

Like Comerford and other Christians who find solace in the Celtic traditions, Terry now looks to nature for spiritual sustenance. To recharge her batteries – mentally, emotionally and spiritually, she turns to two different sources: by receiving Eucharist at church and by working in her garden.

“I go to church to break bread with others,” said Terry, who works as an English as a Second Language teacher in the East Valley School District. “I want to be in community, but my community isn’t just people. It extends to my backyard, to the plants, birds and bugs.”