CREATIVE WORSHIP IN THE CELTIC TRADITION

An edited version of this was published in Celtic Threads, a book published by Veritas, Dublin, edited by Padraigín Clancy, 1999.

Dara Molloy

April 1998

Part 1

Creative worship means using oneís imagination and creativity. It means personal empowerment ñ using our own ability to create meaningful worship rather than relying on others to do it for us. It means being able to use material from within a tradition without being limited or constrained by it. As an example of how this might be done, one need look no further than the example of Jesus in the Gospels.

A touchstone for all the Christian denominations, whatever their differences, is the words and actions of Jesus. If we look at the words and actions of Jesus in relation to his own priesthood, and in relation to his performance of sacred ritual, we will find a lot of answers to misgivings or inhibitions we may have. We have been conditioned to leave this sort of work to trained, professional, ordained people. But Jesus was neither trained, professional nor ordained in the normal sense.

The priesthood of Jesus was not that of the Jewish religion. Priests in the Jewish religion were born into the job. They had to belong to certain Jewish families. Jesus was not born into privilege. His priesthood was not recognised by Judaism. Yet from the beginning it was a priesthood recognised by Christians: ëWe have a great High Priest, Jesusí (Hebrews 4:14ff). His priesthood is traditionally described as ëof the order of Melchisedekí. Melchisedek was an Old Testament priest of unknown origin (Gen.14:18-20, and Psalm 110:4). This type of priesthood does not require ordination within a church structure nor formal training. It is a giftedness and calling that one is born with. Using this understanding of priesthood, those who are not formally ordained or trained can still lead or create a spiritual celebration.

In a similar way, if we look at the liturgical moments in Jesusí life, we will get insights into how we can be imaginative and creative with liturgy. There are some occasions where Jesus is recounted as joining in traditional Jewish ceremonies. He goes to the synagogue on the Sabbath; he celebrates the Passover with his disciples. Each of the examples we have, however, shows him doing things differently, adding a new dimension, or criticising the authorities who insisted things be done a certain way. This was the case most obviously with the Passover meal at the Last Supper. At that ceremony, Jesus added a completely new layer of meaning, when he took the wine and bread from the table and proclaimed it his own body and blood.

When Jesus visits the synagogues and later the Temple, he is not bound by convention. On the contrary, he generally enrages the authorities. For example, in Luke 4:16-29, when he spoke in the synagogue on the Sabbath, after reading from Isaiah, the ceremony is disrupted and ìthe whole assembly Ö rose upî and brought him out to kill him. At the Temple, Jesus drove away from the Temple area those who were buying and selling (Mt.21:12-13). Similarly, when Jesus taught in the Temple he was trampling on toes. For example, in Luke 20:1-7, the chief priests, the teachers of the Law, and the elders of the Jews ó the whole weight of official authority ó came up to him and asked him: ìTell us, what right have you to act like this? Who gives you authority to do the things you do?î

From this we can take to heart Jesusí teaching: ìThe sabbath was made for man, not man for the sabbathî (Mk.2:27). Liturgical ceremonies are made for our soul-nourishment and healing, and we should have no compunction about adapting traditional ceremonies to these ends.

There were many worshipful and God-filled moments in the life of Jesus that took place away from the formal Jewish structures of liturgy. Generally they happened outdoors: the feeding of the five thousand, miraculous healings, raising people from the dead, acts of forgiveness, parables and teachings. His magical actions left unforgettable marks on the landscape. Today thousands upon thousands of pilgrims visit these places. Each place created a context for what Jesus had to do ó Mount Tabor where he was transfigured, Lake Galilee where he called the apostles, the well where he met the Samaritan woman, the Garden of Gethsemane outside Jerusalem where he agonised, the hill where he fed the five thousand. Each place creates a context for us to recall what happened and allows the historical event to speak to us in a fresh way.

In general, Jesus was responding to the moment. While he had the Jewish tradition and scriptures at his fingertips, he relied on the inspiration of the Spirit for the type of response he gave. His healing services, for example, did not follow rubrics or liturgical texts. There were no required words he had to say. His ceremonies, you could say, were ëpersonalisedí. Each event or occasion was different and unique, a creation of his imagination that sought and found the deep life-giving truth of the situation and made it manifest.

Celtic ceremonies are best celebrated in this mode, not relying on texts or laid down procedures, but responding to the need, the context, the landscape, the season and oneís own heart. Where one draws on a Celtic traditional ceremony, whether pre-Christian or Christian, the example of Jesus invites us to be imaginative and creative with it.

From the point of view of our purposes, the Celtic tradition can be divided into two periods. The first period is the pre-Christian Celtic tradition, what I call the Irish Old Testament. This spans 5,000 years and more and has given us such spiritual riches as the tumuli at Newgrange, Knowth and Dowth, the festival of Samhna (Halloween) among so many others, a pantheon of gods and goddesses, and a great collection of stories.

The second period is the Celtic Christian tradition which began at the time of Saint Patrick, came to its apex in Ireland from the 7th to the 10th centuries and was eventually superseded by the Roman tradition from the 12th century onwards.

In the Celtic tradition there are numerous resources for worship. The primary resources are story, landscape, and the Irish cultural and artistic heritage.

Story
There is a particular story, recounted by Tuán McCarroll to St Finian of Moville, which tells of the five invasions of Ireland prior to Christianity. In this story we have the framework for Irelandís Old Testament.

The Partholanians were the first to set foot on the land of Ireland. They had links to Noah - Partholan was Noahís grandson. Next came the Nemedians, about whom we know very little. After them came the Fir Bolg, who got their name from carrying bags full of clay around their middles. Then the Tuatha de Daanan, that noble race of people who were half human, half divine. And finally the Milesians or Celts, who brought us the druidic traditions and the Brehon laws. The Formorians also feature in this picture as the menacing invaders who never quite get a foothold, except on the islands off the coast.

Within this framework one can find visionary journeys, battles between light and darkness, deep psychological insights, spiritual wisdom and magic, as well as beautiful human stories of tragedy and romance, heroism and betrayal. These stories have been handed down to us by people who valued their content and who were nourished by the spiritual food they provided.

The stories are there to be told. If telling them around the fire is a practice that has died out, what better place to tell them today than among a gathering for worship?

There are different cycles within the Irish tradition, from which stories can be drawn. The earliest cycle is the Mythological Cycle. This contains stories of gods and goddesses, the Children of Lir, the voyage of Bran, the Formorians, the Fir Bolg, the Tuatha de Danaan, the Celts and so on. Then there is the Ulster Cycle which includes Cuchulainn, Queen Maeve, the Táin. Thirdly there is the Finn Cycle which tells of Fionn McCumhail, Oisín, the Fianna and all their many exploits. Fourthly, there is the Historical Cycle recounting the time of Tara and the High Kings. This brings us into the Christian period.

There is a large collection of stories that are situated in the period of transition from pre-Christian to Christian in Ireland. The story of Tuán above is such a one. Tuán, a pagan, is persuaded by St Finian of Moville to tell the story of the five invasions of Ireland. Other stories tell of the pre-Patrician saints (Declan, Ciarán, Ailbe and Ibar) and how Christianity was in Ireland before Patrick. And of course there are stories of Patrick himself as he encountered Celtic spirituality at the Hill of Tara and elsewhere. These stories are worth recounting as they indicate how the transition from pagan to Christian was understood to have happened. As we recount them today, we too can build into them our understanding of what may have happened.

From the Celtic Christian era, the greatest collection of stories are about the Irish saints. These saints had a character and an identity that was distinctly Irish. Their understanding of church, their spirituality, their politics and their culture were all indigenous. Irish saints of the period come across very differently to their European counterparts. Stories of these Irish saints carry within them the distinctive qualities of the Irish character, the history of the people, and an explanation for marks on the Irish landscape that have been left by them.

For example, Irish saints were noted for their ability to curse. There are many parts of Ireland that remain cursed as a result of some angry saint. Mulroy Bay in Donegal has never had salmon in it since Colmcille asked some fishermen for some fish. The fishermen had some but they did not want to give any to Colmcille, so they said they had none. He replied: ìWell, if you havenít, you will have; but if you have, you will never have againî. No-one has ever caught a salmon in Mulroy Bay since.

There is one story of Jesus cursing the fig tree (Mt.21:18-22), but cursing remains strangely absent from the hagiographies of the European saints. Stories like the above with their distinctive nature give Irish people a chance to connect to their long spiritual history. The sense of spiritual identity is strengthened.

There are also many rarely recounted stories of Irish monks who travelled to Europe. These stories are often remembered in the places where they settled ó France, Belgium, Germany, Austria, Italy, Switzerland ó rather than here in Ireland. This is such a shame, as they tell of a glorious period in Irelandís history when the Irish were the saviours of the cultural and spiritual heritage of Europe. Now that today Ireland is again involved in Europe in a constructive way, these stories offer inspiration, wisdom and guidance.

The Irish Landscape.
The second great resource for worship is the Irish landscape. Not alone does this landscape bring us directly in touch with the great Mother Earth, the Goddess Danu of the Tuatha de Danaan, but it also connects us with the people who lived before us on this land.

Ireland has a breathtaking beauty that invites us to worship. If we gather outside in the open air, we come directly in touch with the four elements of life ñ air, fire (the sun), earth and water. We also come in touch with the four directions. In this setting, it is easier to see the context of our own lives, situated within nature. It is easier to acknowledge our dependence on these elements for life itself. As we worship surrounded by nature, we can sense the divine presence in all of creation. We can join with all created beings in worshipping. Whether we worship outside during the day or during the night, we place ourselves in the cathedral created by the hand of God. There can be no finer cathedral anywhere.

In the Celtic tradition, it is believed that the divine is particularly accessible at dawn or dusk, noon or midnight. These are the transition times in the day, just as Halloween night, the Equinox and the Solstices are transition times in the year. At transition times, the division between this world and the other world gets very thin and it is possible to intercommunicate or even to travel from one world to the other. For the Celts, dawn, dusk, midday and midnight were the best times for communication with the Other World. When one worships outdoors at these times one can have a clear sense of these moments of transition. We can then open ourselves to transition in our own lives, and this can bring about grace-filled changes within us.

When we worship outdoors, we not only see the hand and experience the presence of the Divine in nature, but we also have an opportunity to get directly in touch with our ancestors who lived on this land before us. People do this for example when they go to the graveyard on the ìPattern Dayî. However, our ancestors have left more than gravestones to remind us of their presence.

Throughout Ireland the landscape is marked everywhere with the peopleís story. Sometimes the mark has been put there deliberately, like a standing stone or a cross. Other times the mark has been left by an event like a battle or a tragedy. There are marks, too, that pinpoint something natural which has been given a sacred meaning, for example, a well, a mountain or an island. Our history has been written on the landscape. The spirit of our ancestors continues to live there. That spirit can be accessed by connecting with these places.

Previous generations have marked out for us the sacred hills and wells, the pilgrim paths and holy islands. They have left on the landscape the dolmens, standing stones, ring forts, round towers and stone crosses, churches and monasteries that remind us of our spiritual heritage. We can connect also with the suffering and tragedies of our ancestors: the famine graves; the ëcillínsí or unconsecrated burial places for unbaptised children; the derelict botháns or hovels where often 9 and 10 children were reared on milk and potatoes; the Mass rocks in remote places; the locations of drownings, burnings, hangings, murders and accidents.

These people are our ancestors and we have been formed and influenced by their lives and their history. Connecting with them through their marks on the landscape is an act of worship as was the recording in the Bible of the story of the Hebrews. Remembering our story and reflecting on it in the light of Godís love is a healthy spiritual exercise.

Worship outdoors in the landscape makes a lot more sense than worshipping indoors in a man-made building. Outdoors we make an immediate connection to the life-sources and to our own cultural heritage. We can see that we are a small part of a wonderful, life-giving cosmos, and that others before us have struggled on this same patch of land as we have. Worship outdoors makes connections and creates a context that indoor worship will rarely, if ever, provide. And of course, by worshipping outdoors we are being true to the Druidic tradition of the Celts who worshipped in oak-groves and on hill-tops.

Cultural and Artistic Heritage
Thirdly, in the Celtic tradition we have a wealth of cultural and artistic heritage that is available to us to enrich our spiritual lives. Irish traditional music, and other forms of Irish music also, contain deep expressions of the soul of Ireland and of its people. Other expressions of that soul are to be found in the traditional dancing, the singing, and in the many traditional arts and crafts. Perhaps most of all, the soul of the people of Ireland is to be found in the Irish language. These are all tried and tested ways in which our own people found soul-nourishment.

Words are not enough to give expression to the deepest movements of the heart. Irish monks lay prostrate on the ground, held their hands in the air, walked neck deep into water, journeyed across land and sea, lived on the top of mountains, fasted for long periods and generally went to any extreme to know God and find their ëplace of resurrectioní. Our worship can be a place where the search continues, where new ways of opening up to the spirit are tested, where we use dance and music, art and crafts, to channel what cannot be channelled in words.

In order to put some flesh on the ideas above, I describe below how one might put together a Celtic Mass.

Part 2: A CELTIC MASS

Gather at a natural beauty spot or at a place with some sacred connection. Begin with some music, singing, dancing.

The Turas Deiseal. Traditionally, the ëturas deisealí is the most suitable way to begin. This is a circular walk ëto the rightí. It makes most sense when it is done around a holy well, standing stone, or old church. But it can also be done in an open field, or around a fire, a tree, or an altar. The ëturas deisealí suggests pilgrimage or journey. It is done to the right, imitating the sun as it appears to travel across the sky from east to west in the northern hemisphere. In doing this ritual, you tune in with the rhythms of the earth, the cycle of days, the seasons and the passing years. The ëturas deisealí traditionally blesses the place being walked upon as well as the person doing the walking. Do the round seven times, counting with pebbles in oneís hand as one goes. While doing it, sing some songs or play some music.

Invoke the presence of God. Traditionally this is the sign of the Cross in the name of the Trinity. It can be added to by calling up the presence of Mother Earth, the trinitarian Celtic goddess Danu or Bríd, or other ancient Celtic gods and goddesses.
An example: In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit; in the name of the Mother, the Maiden and the Wise Woman (Máthair, Maighdean agus Cailleach Feasa). This example seeks to balance the male and female energies in the worship and puts a feminine as well as masculine face on God.

Chant and/or Drumming. Certain activities can draw us into a ërecollected stateí or alter our state of consciousness. Drumming and chanting are two such activities. Chanting can be a simple humming or ëohmí sound using deep slow breathing, or it can be more like charismatic praise in tongues, or it can be similar to ëkeeningí as was done at Irish wakes in the past. In order for this to be truly worshipful, people should stay in tune with each other and be sensitive to the overall sound. It can be very powerful and transformative.

Silence.

Prayer. This prayer is traditionally the ëCollectí ñ a prayer that gathers from the atmosphere created by all the participants, and from the context of the time and the place. One person addresses the spiritual world on behalf of all. It is better spontaneous, although themes can be worked out in advance.

Story
People are invited to tell a story. Sources to draw from can include the Bible, other wisdom traditions, the Irish tradition, and peopleís personal stories. Some stories may need to be prepared in advance. For example, if it would be appropriate to tell a story about Fionn McCumhaill, one might approach a suitable participant beforehand, ask him/her to read the story in advance and then come and tell it in his/her own words. A story told is nearly always better than a story read. This applies to the gospel and other Bible stories also. They are better told than read ñ and of course this is how they originally were communicated, before they were written down.

Stories can be chosen to connect to a theme, a season, or a point on the spiritual calendar. For example, if the celebration is taking place close to or on an Irish saintís feastday, it might be appropriate to tell a story about that saint.

Invite peopleís own story.
Invite comment and some discussion.
Intersperse stories with psalms, poetry, music, dance.

Prayers of Thanksgiving and Intercession
The gathering is invited to contribute prayers of thanksgiving and intercession. A sung response will allow all the prayers to hang together. Soft music can be played by a musician in the background throughout. Those who do not wish to publicly pray can be encouraged to pray privately.

Prayers of intercession are often greatly assisted by some visual action. For example, a stone with a hole in it is a traditional wishing stone in Ireland. Such a stone can be used for intercession. A flower can be passed through it as each intercession is made, or a person can simply hold the stone, pray and then pass it on. Alternately, a little altar can be prepared where people can place objects that represent their prayers.

The Eucharistic Meal
Traditionally the Eucharistic Meal has been a memorial, a sacrifice, a sharing and a celebration. In a Celtic celebration, it can be all of these things and more. On a particular occasion, one can choose to give emphasis to one aspect over another. Treating this tradition creatively means not allowing oneself to become or remain stuck in rigid patterns. I present here one possibility.

The Eucharistic Meal as we know it had its roots in the Jewish Passover meal. This was a celebration and a remembrance of the Hebrew escape from slavery in Egypt. As such, it represents the story of every nation that has had to shake off oppression. For Irish people it can represent Irelandís achievement of political freedom, and be a remembrance of our colonisation and many previous invasions. For Irish people abroad in the diaspora it can represent their ancestors successful escape from the oppression of famine and poverty. For individuals it can represent elements of their own personal journey where they have managed to achieve freedom from family oppression, from addiction, from sin. It can also represent the achievement of ëfreedom toí, rather than just ëfreedom fromí, through learning or new opportunities.

Jesus was celebrating this meal on the night before he died. But he gave it an added rich layer of meaning through his own words and actions at the meal. These were given particular poignancy by the fact that it was his last meal with his friends. While using the Eucharistic Meal to remember these last words and actions of Jesus, we can also pick up there the invitation to add to it, as Jesus did on that occasion, our own level of contemporary meaning.

Let me suggest one possible level of contemporary meaning that connects a very live issue today with a deep element of the Celtic tradition.

In society in general today, and particularly in Church circles, there is an uneasy debate around patriarchy and feminism. It is visible is such disputes as the ordination of women and celibacy, but its roots go much deeper. At a deep level, the debate has its source in a renewed search for the feminine, and a desire to find the right balance between masculine and feminine energies; a desire also to find the feminine face of the divine, the Goddess. In the Celtic tradition, this search can be represented by the search for the Holy Grail. In one version of this story, the Holy Grail is the chalice out of which Jesus drank at the Last Supper.

The chalice has a feminine quality to it. It is a container, it has a feminine shape. But more importantly, the chalice is the container for the blood of Christ, as a womanís body is the container for the life-giving menstrual blood. The chalice and its contents has a powerful symbolic connection to the divine as Mother. Through the chalice on the altar, we can be connected to motherhood in all of creation, to the menstrual cycle, to the cycles of the moon, to the fertility of the earth as well as of women, and to the natural life-cycle of birth-death-rebirth.

In contrast, the bread can be seen as a masculine symbol and a male offering:- the wheat that has been ripened by the sun (as against the moon connection of the womanís blood), the ëcrustí that traditionally a man has had to earn.

In this way, the chalice before us is now recognised as the Holy Grail which we have been seeking, and which until now has eluded us. We can drink from it. The world of the feminine, of women, can be redeemed and given its rightful place alongside the masculine. The feminine face of the divine is represented on the altar. In the celebration of the chalice and the plate, the wine and the bread, the blood and the body, we can see how patriarchy and feminism can be reconciled, how all of humanity can be lifted up and transformed through the power of the Spirit.

How to do all this?
The Eucharistic Prayer is a process of remembering. Jesus asks us to do this ëin memory of meí. A leader, minister or priest ëremembersí or puts together again the story of the Passover, the story of the Last Supper, and the story of the Holy Grail. It is done in the form of a prayer, with the leader speaking to the divine presence on behalf of the gathering. It is done without a written text.

In this celebration, the leadership is a shared balance between men and women. Both a man and a woman act as main celebrants. In this way, the vision of a reconciled gender balance is given a clear expression. For this reason, it is not enough that women be allowed to become priests and replace men at the altar, as has happened in many Christian denominations. In order for the fullness of the divine to be given visible expression at the altar, it is necessary for a woman and a man to stand side by side in unison. In this way, when the Eucharistic Prayer of remembrance is said, ëhisí story will be balanced by ëherí story.

An important element of the Eucharistic Prayer is the invitation to the Holy Spirit to ìcome upon these giftsî. In an Irish language version of Eucharistic Prayer II, God is invited to bless the gifts of bread and wine ìle drúcht do Spioraidî (with the dew of your Spirit). This is a beautiful image from nature which connects directly into the Celtic belief that dew had magical or sacred properties. Dew was mysterious because no-one quite knew how it got on the grass, or how it disappeared from it. Jesus described the Spirit as having these properties (John 3:8). The authentic Holy Water in the Celtic tradition is the dew that is gathered from the grass after dawn. It was traditionally gathered on blankets that were left out overnight, and then wrung out in the morning. If some dew water has been gathered in advance, an imaginative thing to do is to sprinkle it over the bread and put a drop into the chalice.

When praying for the Spirit to come upon the gifts, traditionally the priest or minister traditionally places his hands above the gifts. This signifies the understanding that the Spirit comes from above and descends upon the gifts. While this image has a long and authentic history to it, there is a need to balance it with the more obvious observation that life-giving transformative power also emerges from the soil, from below. Particularly in Spring, there is an amazing upheaval in the earth that transforms dead-looking seeds and roots into a blaze of growth and colour. The early Celtic monks were aware of this when they built their monasteries and altars on positive energy points (using dousing methods) or on the tombs of the saints. Many of their chalices had precious gems inserted beneath the base. The gems were not visible to those attending the Eucharist so could not have been ornamentation. Their function may have been to direct the transforming energy of the earth up into the chalice from below the altar.

In order to express this belief that Mother Earth along with the Holy Spirit provides a life-giving divine energy that is transformative, the leader, and preferably the woman, places her hands facing upwards beneath the bread and wine as she prays for this transformation to take place.

The Words of Consecration. In order to play down the role of priest, and to emphasise the common priesthood of all, everyone together performs the words of consecration. This is preferably done through singing the words. There are numerous hymns written which take these words of Jesus and put them to music. Any one might do. A beautiful version of it is the following:

This is my body, broken for you,
Bringing you wholeness, making you free,
Take it and eat it, and when you do
Do it in love for me.

This is my blood, poured out for you,
Bringing forgiveness, making you free,
Take it and drink it, and when you do,
Do it in love for me.
(author unknown)

Where the congregation do not know this tune in advance, an option is for the male leader to sing the first verse and the female leader sing the second verse and then everybody join in singing the two verses through again.

Sharing the Meal. As an immediate preparation for sharing the sacred meal, the Our Father is said or sung and the Sign of Peace given. A variation on the latter is for the Sign of Peace to be kept to the very end. Doing it this way means it does not have to be cut short for people to go back to their places and it allows the floodgates of chatter and laughter to open and stay open.

In relation to the bread and wine, it is most meaningful if the bread is home-made and the wine home-brewed. An easy home-made bread recipe is the following and can be made in 10 minutes just before the ceremony. Take a cup full of flour (or whatever amount is required) and mix into it a pinch of salt, a pinch of bread soda and two pinches of Bextartar. Mix in enough water to make a solid dough. Pat with flour to dry the outside and flatten out on a thick frying pan sprinkled with flour. Leave on a low heat, covered with a lid for 5 minutes. Then turn and repeat for another five minutes. Once it has cooled, it is ready, and generally tastes delicious. If you prefer it unleavened, omit the bread soda and bextartar from the ingredients.

Plenty of people know how to make wine and should be encouraged to bring it along and allow it to be used. Red is obviously the most appropriate.

Bringing the Ceremony to an End. After the sharing of the meal together, it is a good time to sit in silence and meditate. During this silence, things may well up in people which they might like subsequently to share. An invitation to sharing after the silence is all that is needed. These sharings are often the richest pickings of the whole event; something equivalent to the twelve baskets of scraps gathered up by the disciples after the feeding of the five thousand (Jn.6:13). There is room for music and singing here too.

A prayer by a leader brings the sharing and/or silence to an end.

Traditionally in Ireland, people are blessed by each other as they say their goodbyes. ìGod blessî is the most basic form of this blessing. In the Irish language there are many other forms ó Go mbeannaí Dia dhuit; go n-éirí on bóthar leat; go ngnóthaí Dia dhuit ñ as well as the longer versions now so popular with the tourists ñ for example: May the road rise with you, May the wind be always at your back, May the sun shine warm upon your face, May the rain fall soft upon your field, and until we meet again, May God hold you in the palm of his/her hand. Any of these are appropriate. One could make a distinction between prayers of protection and prayers of blessing. Both are needed and there are plenty of both in the Celtic tradition. The classic prayer of protection in the Irish tradition is The Deerís Cry, better known as The Breastplate of St Patrick. A small extract can be taken and transposed from being a personal prayer, as it is written, to being a prayer of blessing for others.

The leaders proclaim the blessings while holding their hands fully extended out towards the participants. Those receiving the blessings hold their hands extended and open upwards. Alternatively, the whole gathering can form a circle holding hands so that the blessings symbolically pass through the circle. In this case, each person turns their right hand upwards and their left hand downwards and joins hands with their neighbours this way. The blessing then is given with the left hand and received with the right and travels in a turas deiseal.

The Celtic Sign of the Cross
The Celtic monks were creative with the Sign of the Cross when they made it in stone. They put their distinctive mark on the horizontal and vertical shafts by integrating a circle into it. This may have represented the sun, seen as the material source of all life. We can also be creative with the way we make the Sign of the Cross. In the above example of creative liturgy, there is a balancing of dual energies: men and women, patriarchy and feminism, Holy Spirit from above and Mother Earth from below, bread and wine, body and blood. If we make a two-handed Sign of the Cross we can express this balance of dualities. In a two-handed Sign of the Cross, the two hands together make the sign to the forehead and the diaphragm and then each hand, separately and simultaneously, goes to the right and left shoulder before joining together to finish. I call this the Celtic Sign of the Cross.

The Spiral Dance
Finally, I suggest a dance to finish with called The Spiral Dance. In this dance, the people begin in a circle, holding hands, facing into the middle. The leader,also in the circle, lets go her left hand, and pulls the circle with her right hand inwards into a spiral. As she gets nearer and nearer the centre of the circle, the others are spiralling behind her. Finally, the spiral tightens up like a coiled spring, with the leader at the centre. It is then time for the leader to turn to the left and begin to weave her way out through the spiral layers, continuing to hold on to the others with her right hand, pulling them out from the centre. When she eventually emerges from the pack, she leads them around into a circle again. She will find herself this time facing outwards. When the dance is completed, the circle will have been turned inside out.

The symbolism of this spiral dance becomes clearer when it is done. On the journey into the centre, each person is moving in the spiral with his/her back to everyone else. This symbolises the personal journey inwards that each of us has to make alone. On the return journey outwards, people are facing each other as they pass, and all end up facing outwards when the circle finally reforms. This second part of the dance symbolises the journey out into the world that each of us has to make. In terms of our celebration, it breaks up the exclusivity of the group and sends the participants on their way with responsibility and support.

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