Praise Poem

Hello everyone! Today, I am posting my first exercise from my studies. It has taken some time, but I have gradually grown more structured in my work toward my goals, and I finally have some results, however meagre.

As I have previously stated, I am following a set training guide for my bardic studies, and one of the first tasks given is to compose a poem in praise of something that you admire or gain inspiration from. This praise poem will then be recited everyday, a bit like a prayer, as a reminder of what you are working for as an anruth (bard in training) and to serve as daily inspiration and empowerment.

As a bit of background, I believe I mentioned once before that I have tried my hand at this particular study course once, and through a lack of focus, I fell off the path. I did, however manage to create a praise poem, though I was never satisfied with it. I believe that I had previously just made it an exercise and didn't allow the poem to come from the heart. It was empty, and also overly complicated.

This time, I had a clearer idea of what I wanted to do. However, I had still encountered some trouble. I had intended to make a poem in praise of Awen/Imbas/the Holy Spirit, itself, and although I did get at least one stanza completed, it didn't seem to be going anywhere after that. I started listing images that I associate with Awen to see if I could come up with any buidling blocks for more poetry, but nothing I thought of would fit together. It was a bit like having several pieces to a puzzle, but realizing that none of them fit together.

Last night, I said a little prayer asking for some help with my creation. Low and behold, if I wasn't answered! After my prayer and some relaxed meditation, I was struck with the gift of inspiration. I suddenly remembered a poem that I had read made by Amergin. Amergin was the earliest and, I believe, greatest of the Irish bards. There are a number of poems attributed to him, and Imbas (Awen) brought to my mind one of them:

"I seek the land of Ireland.
Forceful is the fruitful sea,
Fruitful the serried mountains,
Serried the showery woods,
Showery the cascade of rivers,
Cascaded the tributaries of lakes,
Tributaried the well of hills,
Welling the people of gatherings,
Gathering of Tara's king,
Tara, hill of tribes,
Tribes of Mil's people,
Mil's ships and galleys,
Galleys of mighty Eire,
Eire, mighty and green.
A crafty incantation,
Craftiness of Bres's wives,
Bres, of Buaigne's wives,
Great Lady Eire:
Eremon harried her,
Ir and Eber sought for her-
I seek the land of Ireland."

Marvelous. I love this poem. After it being brought to my mind, I was struck my its similarity to a section of another poem that is part of a tale called "The Dialogue of the Two Sages".

In this story, two bards, one older and experienced, and the other being young, but very talented, have a bit of a "poet's duel", one might say. The younger bard had laid claim to the older bard's position, and a battle of wits ensues, in the form of a sort of question and answer session. One would ask the other a question and the other was expected to answer, in true bardic style, in verse-form. The idea being, whichever of the two answered their questions in the most eloquent, but also most wise and insightful, manner would be named the greater bard. Ultimately, it ends in a draw and the two come to greatly admire each other's skill and wisdom.

One section of the tale, however, is very similar, in terms of its poetic form, to the poem by Amergin. Ferchertne, the elder bard, asks Nede, the young talent, whose son he is, to which Nede answers:

"Not hard to answer: I am son of Poetry,
Poetry son of Scrutiny,
Scrutiny son of Meditation,
Meditation son of Lore,
Lore son of Enquiry,
Enquiry son of Investigation,
Investigation son of Great-Knowledge,
Great-Knowledge son of Great-Sense,
Great-Sense son of Understanding,
Understanding son of Wisdom,
Wisdom, son of the three gods of Poetry."

You can see that the form is similar to Amergin's Invocation. The end of a line serves as the beginning of the next line.

All of this passed through my mind within a minutes time. It was then that I had an idea for a praise poem that was completely different from the one I had been working on. So, after some thought, I managed to create what I had been striving toward. It isn't a compliacted poem, in form, and it isn't very long, but here it is, nonetheless. My praise poem:



"God within my soul,
My soul within myself,
Myself within my family,
My family within humanity,
Humanity within the Earth,
Earth within Creation,
Creation within God."

Seven lines. Each line ending with the word starting the next line. Simple, but elegant. Short, but profound. This is my praise poem.

I do not mean to say that I wont potentially seek to improve it, because it certainly isn't anything special. It could be improved upon. I am not trying to brag about my work. That, I think, would be crass and ignorant. However, it is one of my first real accomplishments as an anruth, and, finally, I have made a praise poem that I am satisfied with.

My First Bard Poem

Hello! I have one more post for today: my very first bard poem! Yes, as it turns out, I do more than just write about bards. I hope to have at least one poem done every month.
Onto the show! This is a poem written to another bard inspiration of mine: Taliesin. Taliesin was a semi-mythological figure who is often regarded as the greatest bard who ever lived. Unfortunately, he was Welsh, not Irish. Haha, of course there is nothing wrong with the Welsh. They are Celts too! Anyway, this is a poem written as though I were talking with Taliesin.
“Who were you?
You from long ago
You have lived to meet my ears
To fire my head
To move my heart
When can we speak?
Shall it be on those green paths
Upon which tread the feet of the wise?
Shall it instead be in the golden fields eternal?
Shall it be the land of the Spirit
Our mutual destination and common muse?
I am eager
My fingers scratch and my mind churns
Both want to find your approval
Please smile on me when I see you”
That is all. It has no title, and hasn’t been edited yet. Just a pure, unrefined gift from Awen. I hope you like it. Let me know what you think.

The Inspiration of Brighid

The Song of Wandering Aengus
I went out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;
And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.

When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire aflame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And some one called me by my name:
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.

Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.
-By William Butler Yeats

Hello all! It has been a couple of weeks since my last post. Well, I haven’t forgotten about my little corner of the web. I have been on vacation and have thus lacked the focus needed to write anything. I am back now, however, and ready to begin anew. I even have another post ready after this! Before jumping ahead of myself, though, I should discuss today’s topic.
The above poem is by William Butler Years, a modern Irish filidh (seer-poet/bard).



In it, the speaker describes an encounter with a magical red-headed woman that so enthralls him, he spends the rest of his life looking for her. Any writer could relate to this situation, in a sense. While most haven’t had fish turn into women during their own life-time, it is more the metaphoric sense of the relentless pursuit of inspiration, Yeat’s “fire in the head”. Writers live off of their inspiration, after all, so one could easily see how the pursuit of the very fuel of writing could be just as obsessive as Yeats’s pursuit of the red-headed woman.

To the traditional bard, though, this poem holds even deeper meaning. The red-headed woman doesn’t just represent inspiration; she actually IS Imbas or Awen taken form. This is no mistake or creative interpretation. The woman in the poem fits the description of Brighid, the Celtic goddess of healing, crafting (especially blacksmithing), and poetry. A poetry goddess. Brighid would have been a provider of Awen, or perhaps even Awen herself.



Brighid is described as having fiery red hair, like the fires of the forge that she is associated with. Her eyes were a striking blue, like the clearest blue sky; the same color of the bardic robe or cloak. While she was undeniably beautiful, she was not a love or fertility goddess, like Aphrodite was to the Greeks. She was not to be lusted after. However, her favor was most certainly sought after, especially by the ancient bards. The young bard in training, or Anruth, must be careful, though. Brighid was to be well respected. Some descriptions of her are very graphic, detailing the jawbones and entrails of poets in her hair. Certainly, any writer that has experienced writer’s block can attest to the horrible feeling that can come from inspiration’s gift being withdrawn.

The Celts held for major holidays through the year, now known as the four fire festivals. They are Samhain, which is on October the 31st (the origin of Halloween!), Imbolc on February the 1st, Beltane on May 1st, and Lughnasadh on August 1st. The fire festivals were intimately tied to the turning seasons of the year, but were also connected with different deities. Imbolc was Brighid’s holiday. Imbolc, despite being in one of the coldest months in the year, actually served to mark the beginning of Spring. It coincided with the very earliest signs of Spring that the agricultural Celts would have seen, in particular that the lambs would begin lactating at this time in preparation for their new young. Interestingly enough, milk is often associated with this holiday. Brighid would have been seen as being in charge of caring for these new lambs, as part of her healing aspect.



The festival of Brighid was considered a time for cleansing and purification, and also for new beginnings or initiations. Many bards then and today will often begin their training on Imbolc or at least rededicate themselves to their vocation. Poets, love, care, new beginnings. It is very interesting that our modern St. Valentine’s day is only a few days after Imbolc, and encourages people to rededicate their love to their partner with poems, or at least a cheesy card.

Speaking of Saints, there is a Celtic saint that bears mention in this discussion of the goddess Brighid. Yes, dear readers, the Celts had many more saints besides Patrick. I am actually referring to Saint Brigid!



Look familiar? She should! Many scholars doubt she even existed! It is thought that she may simply be a Christianized version of the older goddess Brighid. It certainly seems that she could be. Brigid is the patron saint of many of the same things that Brighid the goddess had within her domain, including fire, midwifery, and inspiration.

The story that is told of Saint Brigid says that she was born around 450 C.E. and died in 523 C.E.. Legend says her father was a druid and her mother was a Christian. The young girl was taught by the druids, and gained all of their learning, but ultimately chose the faith of her mother. Thus, Brigid became a nun and is actually credited with founding called Cill-Dara, which is the modern town of Kildare, Ireland!

Like any good saint, many stories are told of the miracles and acts of goodness that Brigid performed in her life. One such tale says that once Brigid gave some butter away from her father’s churn to a wandering beggar. Naturally, her father was not pleased and threatened to punish her if she did it again. As luck would have it, another hungry beggar came by and Brigid could not ignore the charity that she felt toward him. Fearing her father’s reaction to her disobedience, she prayed fervently to God. When her father checked on his churn, he found it over-flowing with butter! This was the state of the churn from then on, no matter how much butter Brigid gave to the poor and needy.

Another story tells of her father’s death. Brigid sat at her father’s side while he layed upon his death-bed. While she waited, Brigid silently prayed and began forming a cross out of some brush weeds. Noticing what she was doing, Brigid’s father asked about the cross. She used the completed cross to explain Christ to her father, and he ultimately came to accept Jesus before he died. Even today, people will make a Brigid’s cross and hang it in their home on Saint Brigid’s day, or Candlemass, which is conveniently enough on February 1st, just like Imbolc!



Today, many modern pagans still revere the goddess Brighid and Saint Brigid still has a nunnery devoted to her in Kildare. The Brigid nuns tend a fire in their monastery in honor of Saint Brigid that they never allow to be extinguished. Brigid’s fire.
For me, personally, I am not technically a pagan, so I do not offer prayer or worship to Brighid. Also, though I am a Christian, I do not pray to saints either. I believe that the Creator encompasses all that is and is within us all. I also believe that, instead of saints, the Holy Spirit, Awen, intercedes for us and our prayers. As is said in Romans 8:26, “And the Holy Spirit helps us in our weakness. For example, we don't know what God wants us to pray for. But the Holy Spirit prays for us with groanings that cannot be expressed in words.”

This doesn’t mean that I don’t respect Brighid/Brigid, however. I would hardly write this article if I did not hold her in high regard. I do respect Brighid and Brigid, as the bards through the years have. Brighid the goddess represents all that I strive to attain as a poet. She is that mysterious flash of inspiration that sends you into a furious search for more. I also respect Saint Brigid, as she is a model of Christ-like behavior. Her generosity and willingness to teach and inspire are just like that of her pagan cousin, and should serve as a good example for us all on behavior and spiritual health. Father, thank you for both Brighids, as you have displayed the fullness of your Holy Spirit through both of them.

If you would like to celebrate Brighid or Saint Brigid in your own way, perhaps you might want to have your own Imbolc/Candlemass. One good way would be to light a series of candles (again, fire is sacred to both versions of Brighid) and pray, giving thanks to the Divine (whatever you personally believe that to be!) for the blessings in your life, and to ask for guidance in the coming year. Another good idea is to start your Spring cleaning at this time, beings Imbolc is a time of cleansing. You could even try writing some poetry yourself! Or, perhaps, you may want to try your hand at creating your own Brigid’s cross. Here is a link showing how: http://www.fisheaters.com/stbrigidscross.html

I hope that this has been informative for everyone. As part of my bardic journey, I will dealing very closely with Brighid and Brigid and all that the two represent. Therefore, I felt it necessary to discuss them both here. We will be encountering them again, most certainly.

Plans and some book reviews

Hello all! I am so happy to be getting such good responses from my blog! I am surprised to see that people from all over the country have viewed it, and I am happy to get feedback from those whom I know personally. I will be continuing to update Mac an Bhaird and I have a new plan to be starting up a YouTube channel soon, as well. Once I have more details on this project, I will post here in regards to it. As the main focus of this blog is to track my own personal journey down the path of the bard, I will be offering my insights and reflections on my growth on this site. I plan for my YouTube channel to feature videos of myself practicing recitation of the stories and tales that I learn, and the poems that I write. I hope to make posts on this blog weekly and, once it has begun, for my YouTube channel to feature at least one new story and one new poem a month.

I would also like to take the time here to mention my training resources. The primary study path that I am using is detailed in the book The Bardic Handbook by Kevan Manwaring.

I purchased the book last year, and attempted to begin the program, but I managed to lose my focus and ended up falling out of the habit. I have decided to begin anew, however, and am using this blog as an aide. The book details a year-long self-study path that one can use to learn the basics of bardry. From my glossings through the book and from what I have read so far, it is simply excellent. Certainly the most detailed and organized guide to the bardic arts that I have ever come across. It shall serve as the primary source of my studies.

Another book that I will be employing is The Lore of the Bard by Arthur Rowan.

Rowan's book is also very detailed, but the advice that it gives is less structured and more reflective. This book is less a study program and more an offering of some of the more esoteric and mystical bits of bardry. Regardless of this, it is still full of much insight and has a much more poetic tone to it than Manwaring's book.

While these two books serve as my primary guides for my bardic studies, my overall Celtic spirituality and world view have been guided by a few of these books, for those interested:

Listening for the Heartbeat of God by J. Philip Newell

This is an excellent place to begin learning about Celtic Christian spirituality. It details some of the primary teachers throughout history and discusses many of the main points in Celtic spiritual belief.

Another from Newell is Christ of the Celts

This was the first book of Newell's that I actually read, but I don't recommend reading it until after first reading Listening for the Heartbeat of God. This book offers more personal insights of Newell's and takes a closer look at the role that Christ actually plays within the context of a Celtic Christian belief system. An excellent read for the more dedicated scholar.

Finally, if you are searching for some help with your daily prayer or meditation, I can recommend both The Celtic Spirit by Caitlin Matthews and Celtic Prayers from Iona by Newell.

For those who do not know me personally, let me just say that I am not an official sponsor of Newell's, though one may be tempted to believe so from my frequent mention of him. I am simply showcasing the works that I have actually read and that have touched me personally. So, while not a sponsor (I can assure you that I am just as financially poor now as I was when this blog began, if you catch my meaning), I am certainly a fan and admirer. Celtic Prayers from Iona offers a daily pattern of morning and evening prayers for Monday through Saturday that have been patterned off of traditional Celtic prayers and I have enjoyed using it daily for months now.

The Celtic Spirit is not specific to a particular religion, but it's insight is still excellent. Offering no less than one meditation for every day out of the year, this is a lengthy book that you will certainly find use and pleasure in. Caitlin Matthews and her husband John are very well respected Celtic spiritual scholars and have written many books over the years. I highly recommend anything that the couple have authored, whether together as a couple or individually.

That is all for now. This has just been a quick post to tell where this blog will be going from this point forward. I pray for everyone's safety during this dangerous weather and I hope to hear from you all again soon!

My spiritual beliefs as a Christian Bard

Hello all! I hope you enjoyed my initial post. Bardry, and Celtic wisdom in general, have long been a major inspiration in my life, and this blog’s purpose is to help me apply my Celtic leanings to my daily life. I welcome any and all comments regarding my blog and what I post here. It is my hope and desire that I am not the only one who finds use from what I am doing here, but that others may find some of the same inspiration that I have.
Now, on to today’s topic! To the bards of ancient Britain, their vocation was much more than mere performance. The path of bardry was just as much a spiritual path as it was a role within the tribe. The all of the tales, songs, and poems that bards memorized and performed held much wisdom, and so the bard was as much a custodian of wisdom as he was a writer of song or poetry. Also, the bards saw the inspiration for their compositions not as coming from within themselves, but as coming directly from a divine source. The source was different from the gods or goddesses that most of the ancient Celts venerated. It did not have a face and was much more mysterious in nature. This spirit of inspiration was called Awen (Welsh) or Imbas (Irish). The old bards called to Awen to fill them with inspiration for their works and performances and would go through many different rituals to do so, some more elaborate than others. One example from Ireland tells of the filidh (Irish bards that focused upon prophetic poems) secluding themselves within pitch dark huts for hours until Imbas would grant them the inspiration for a poem.
Without going into too much detail about the ancient bardic practices, I want to get into my main point for today, which is my own spiritual beliefs and how they feed into my bardic path. I will offer advanced warning that I am about to touch upon things of a religious and spiritual nature. Knowing full well that there are few ways to offend someone as efficient as discussing politics or religion, I want to say that what will follow only reflects my own personal beliefs. This is not meant to be dogmatic in anyway, or to condemn others for their own beliefs. Having said that, any who still feel they would rather skip this particular entry are advised to do so. With that out of the way, I will proceed.
I have been raised and brought up as a Christian my entire life. As I have gone through my life, I have always loved God and wanted to please him, but I have never felt quite at home at church, or with some of the beliefs or practices that I saw there. One that I particularly remember was that I was told (by a party who shall remain nameless) that I should not question God or his commandments. This never sat well with me. I did not want to just blindly accept anything that was fed to me. I wanted to understand. I needed answers to my spiritual questions.
There have been numerous such examples of things within a religious or church context through the years that have put me off, but I believe what has gotten me the most is the tendency for the church to condemn the people who probably need help the most, just because they are “sinners”. Because of behaviors, acts, or what have you, the church, its members, and even its leaders, who one would think should be looked to for help, have shut out, disregarded, and occasionally openly condemned those who would come for guidance. I DO NOT believe that this represents how Christ would have interacted with these people, nor with anyone.
I have seen this time and time again. A few have hit very close to home. One of my very best friends (who shall also remain nameless) had been a member of a church for many years. After meeting his now wife, the two of them moved in together before they were married. Many factors went into this decision, not the least of which was my friend’s very unhealthy and dysfunctional home life. Moving in with his then fiancé was an escape to something healthier. Yet, when my friend went to his church leaders for advice, he was turned away for “living in sin” with his fiancé. Again this happened when he returned to them for advice on his relationship with his fiancé. He went to the church for advice and was spurned. The behavior of these church leaders hurt my friend deeply and for many years he struggled with his faith. He is only just now beginning to reconcile these events with his spiritual life.
Again and again I have seen this behavior. An in-law of mine was mocked and chastised by people who called themselves Christians, and to this very day is very bitter and torn in relation to virtually anything religious. I have met countless other people with the same story. Really, it would seem from the actions of these so called followers of Jesus, that the love of God is only for a very select few and that He has nothing but hatred and mockery for everyone else.
As is quite obvious by this point, I do not believe that this truly reflects the heart of God. I never have. As I have studied more and more about Celtic wisdom and spirituality, I ran across something that changed my life forever. That is Celtic Christianity. At first, I was merely fascinated with it in a superficial sense, simply because it was part of my beloved Celtic world, but the more I have learned about it, the more I see how this brand of Celtic Christian spirituality reflects my own deepest beliefs and feelings, and the more I feel that it holds within it an aspect of God that too many Christians have forgotten.
I will first give a very brief history. Christianity was brought to Western Europe by the Roman Empire. Some speculate it may have arrived earlier, but primarily the largest presence of Christianity came with the Romans, and was sustained by the Roman churches, as well as led and taught by them. Now, as I mentioned in my last post, the druids were the primary religious teachers of the Celtic world at this time, so one may wonder how they reacted to the arrival of a new religion, particularly one that only revered one god. Well, surprisingly, they took to it rather well. While there is some evidence of isolated resistance, as a whole, the Celts took to Christianity very naturally, like birds to the sky. Many scholars on the subject believe this comes from the druids beliefs being very similar to Christianity. In fact, as I mentioned previously, many druids actually became leaders within the Christian church.
Now around the year 410 C.E., the Roman Empire pulled out of the British Isles to deal with conflict elsewhere. This left the Christian churches that had been established in Britain to fend for themselves. And so they did. For nearly 200 years! During this time, without any outside influence from Rome or any other part of the world, the Christian church in the Celtic world began to form it owns unique identity and spiritualty. Influenced by the previous spiritual beliefs of the druids, this Celtic Christianity saw spiritual life everywhere. This view influenced many of their practices and the Celtic church began to be very distinct in the Christian world. The Celts even ordained women as clergy, and allowed their priests to marry, instead of requiring celibacy!
Now, when the Roman Christian influence returned, in the form of the Catholic Church based in Rome, Celtic Christian practice began to die down, and “orthodox” Christian practices became the standard. However, Celtic spirituality did not die out. It has survived to this very day, thanks to certain spiritual leaders and the folk practices and prayers of the Celtic people. In the past few years, Celtic Christianity has seen a resurgence and is once again gaining prominence.
What draws me to this Celtic flavor of Christianity is that it focuses on the omnipresence of God within creation. This simple belief leads to numerous other distinctions in Celtic spirituality that marks it as unique. Celtic Christianity is very optimistic, very mystical, and values nature very highly.
The Celts, all the way back to the druids, have always believed that nature and all that is in it contains a spark of the divine. Everything had a spirit. When Christianity arrived, this spark of the divine that indwelled all of nature was seen to be the Spirit of God. Indeed, some modern commenters have come to call Celtic Christianity as “the green Christianity”. This quote from an early Celtic theologian name Pelagius showcases this particularly Celtic reverence for nature.
"Look at the animals roaming the forest: God’s spirit dwells within them. Look at the birds flying across the sky: God’s spirit dwells within them. Look at the tiny insects crawling in the grass: God’s spirit dwells within them. Look at the fish in the river and sea: God’s spirit dwells within them. There is no creature on earth in whom God is absent… When God pronounced that his creation was good, it was not only that His hand fashioned every creature; it was that His breath had brought every creature to life. Look too at the great trees of the forest; look at the wild flowers and grass in the fields; look even at your crops. God’s spirit is present within all plants as well. The presence of God’s spirit in all living things is what makes them beautiful; and if we look with God’s eyes, nothing on the earth is ugly." – The Letters of Pelagius 71

This view of God’s spirit living within all of creation lead to a deep mysticism. The Celts looked for God within their daily lives. If God was everywhere, then God could be sensed and experienced everywhere. Nowhere is this concept better reflected than within the prayers of the common Celtic people. Many of these daily prayers were collected for future generations by Alexander Carmichael (1832-1912) in a book called the Carmina Gadelica, which translates to “the songs and poems of the Gaels.” The prayers that are found within practically ring out with the eternal presence of the Spirit of God. Here is just one example:
God to enfold me,
God to surround me,
God in my speaking,
God in my thinking.

God in my sleeping,
God in my waking,
God in my watching,
God in my hoping.

God in my life,
God in my lips,
God in my soul,
God in my heart.

God in my sufficing,
God in my slumber,
God in mine ever-living soul,
God in mine eternity. –Carmina Gadelica III, p. 53
What attracts me the most to Celtic Christianity is the reverence that it holds for the essential goodness and dignity of humanity. God is present within all of nature, and that includes us most of all. Celtic Christianity does not believe in the doctrine of original sin. This is perhaps what caused much of the conflict that it had with the church authorities in Rome. Rather than viewing humans as essentially evil at our very cores, Celtic Christianity holds that, while we are indeed corrupted by sin, underneath that, at our very deepest point, we still bear the mark of God and His image. Pelagius said that sin was like an occupying army, suppressing the good people of the land. To use a contemporary example, I will cite Anakin Skywalker of Star Wars. He is a good, heroic character, but his noble intentions are corrupted by Emperor Palpatine. Anakin is so overcome with corruption that he essentially forgets who he is, and becomes Darth Vader, one of the most famous movie villains of all time. Now, as any who have seen Return of the Jedi know, Luke Skywalker manages to redeem his father, Anakin, by pleading to the goodness that still lived within him, buried beneath the machinery and malice of Vader. I believe, just as Pelagius and Celtic spirituality believe, that we are very much like Anakin Skywalker. We have become so overcome with sin and selfish desire, that we have all essentially forgotten who we really are. We are children of God. As children of God, we have His image stamped on our souls and we have His spirit living within us. Deeper than any sin, more powerful than any evil, is the love of God.
This, of course means that we should treat everyone with love. We need to look for that good within people, rather than writing them off as sinner, not to be interacted with. This is not how Christ, our living example for Godly behavior, would have treated ANYONE. From dining with sinners and tax collectors, to caring for the woman at the well, Jesus, shows us, time and time again in the Gospels that NO ONE is apart from the love of God. Pelagius, writing advice to a woman named Demetrias, asks her if we have not all met someone that was good and kind, but also not a Christian. He says, “From whence, I ask you, do these good qualities pleasing to God come, unless it be from the good of nature? (Letter to Demetrias 3.3) ” A contemporary Celtic Christian, and my personal favorite spiritual author, John Philip Newell, says in his book Christ of the Celts:
A number of years ago, I delivered a talk in Ottawa, Canada, on some of these themes. I referred especially to the prologue of the gospel of John and his words concerning “the true light that enlightens everyone coming into the world” (John 1:9). I was inviting us to watch for that Light within ourselves, in the whole of the being, and to expect to glimpse that Light at the heart of one another and deep within the wisdom of other traditions. At the end of the talk, a Mohawk elder, who had been invited to comment on the common ground between Celtic spirituality and the native spirituality of his people, stood with tears in his eyes. He said “As I have listened to these themes, I have been wondering where I would be today. I have been wondering where my people would be today. And I have been wondering where we would be as a Western world today if the mission that came to us from Europe centuries ago had come expecting to find Light in us.”
I feel this more deeply than any desire I have in my whole being. I want the whole of the world to know of the Light of God within them and the love that God has for them. As I begin to train as a bard, I want my central message within all of my work to be the love of God, for everyone, no exceptions. To me, the Holy Spirit is like Awen or Imbas was to the bards of old. May God’s Holy Spirit give me the inspiration I need to successfully bring His message of love and peace to everyone. If you are reading this, know that you are a child of God, regardless of whatever you may have done in your life. Know that regardless of whether you are a man, woman, young, old, black, white, straight, gay, or, yes, even a non-Christian, you are still a child of God. Know that you have his Light within you. Know that he loves you. And know that I love you too.


If you are interested in learning more about Celtic Christianity, here are some of my favorite links on the subject:
http://www.jphilipnewell.com/

http://www.iona.org.uk/

http://www.mysticchrist.co.uk/

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The Story of a Bard

Long ago, when the earth was much younger than it is now, and there was still mystery and magic left to be found, the people of the world lived in many different tribes and moved about the land. The tribes of the world went by many names and all behaved in different ways, but one tribe was special. This tribe was destined to spread over most of the known world and echo through the annals of history and legend. They were called the Celts.

The Celts were a people set apart. They stood out for their great might and stature, for their bright red and blonde hair, and for their deep blue and green eyes. They clothed their legs in leather, because of their great love of riding horses. More than riding, though, the Celts loved a good fight. Among the other tribes of the young earth, the Celts quickly gained a leg up through their warrior skills. They craved battle for the challenge and the sheer thrill of it. Even the Celtic women loved battle, and fought fiercely alongside the men. To the Celts, battles were a test and a chance to prove oneself. Victory meant that one would be renowned as a hero. To be a hero was to be remembered and live on forever. The Celts fought to live on.

Their love of battle was met only by their deep spirituality. The Celts believed that everything was spiritual. Nothing was secular to them. Everything breathed with the spirit of life. The Celts believed that our world is conjoined to the Otherworld; a sort of spiritual other half to our own world, where the faeries and other spirits dwelled. Some stories even suggest that the Celts may have believed in a supreme being, or God, with all of the other gods and goddesses they followed being merely manifestations or aspects of the greater God. The truth of this has been muddied by the ages. Perhaps one day, we will know for sure.

The spiritual needs of the Celts were met by their spiritual leaders, the druids. The druids were very special, in that they were much more than simple priests. They were also lawyers, doctors, political leaders, and philosophers. When any major descision was to be made the druids were relied upon for their great wisdom. When their was conflict within the tribe, the druids were the peace-keepers. For their great service to their people, the druids were held in very high regard, being nearly as important as the king or queen of the tribe.

Deep within the Celtic soul lived a love of beauty and art. The Celts were true warrior-poets. They reveled in stories and songs, especially ones of high adventure or great battles. The master of these stories and songs were a very special kind of druid, called the bard. Bards were just as important and honored as the other druids, for the bards kept the souls of their tribe alive through music and stories. Their skill with these arts were so great, that legends say bards could literally weave magic out of their harps. Kings feared the bards, for to earn the ire of the poet-seers was dangerous. Bardic sattires could literally sting the flesh and leave whelps and bruises, legends say, or even kill from the shame they would bring. The warriors of the tribe fought for the Bard's attention, for to be put into a song or poem by one of the magical talecrafters would render them immortal. The Celts fought to live on.

One family of Celts took up the craft of the bard as their main profession. They were the Mac an Bháirds, which means son of the bard. This family traced their lineage back to Conaill Cearnach, one of the Red Branch Knights, mythic heroes of the county Ulster in Ireland. On though the years, the Mac an Bháirds practiced the old bardcraft in county Ulster and made great names for themselves as bards of considerable skill.

With the march of time, the Celts would eventually fall from their glory. Just as Summer continually gives way to Winter, so to did these mighty warriors fall. The war machine of the Roman Empire conquered much of their land and other tribes, like the Vikings, took advantage of the Celts weakened state, plundering their villages and killing their people. Eventually, even the druids passed with the coming of Christianity.

But not all was lost. The Celts managed to survive their many challenges, though battered and weakened. What remained of the Celts lived on in Ireland, Scotland, Wales, Brittany, Cornwall, and the Isle of Mann. The culture and way of life of the Celts endured and even many of the druids simply traded in their druid robes for the hoods of the Christian monks, mixing their druidic beliefs with that of the new religion. The bardic tradition survived in the form of minstrels and troubadoors. The Celts fought to live on.

Many years after their struggles, the Celts were handed a new twist of fate. During the 1800s, many in the Celtic lands were still facing struggles, from the Irish potatoe famine, to the Scottish suppression by the British. To escape these hardships, many felt that they must escape their homeland and find somewhere new to live their lives. Thus the Celtic Diaspora began, with thousands of Irish, Scottish, Welsh, and other Celts moving to the Americas and Australia. These brave Celts settled into their new home countries and adapted the best that they could. Many even changed their names to better fit in with their new countrymen. The Mac Gabhanns became the Smiths. The Mac Gearailts became the Fitzgeralds. And the Mac an Bháirds, the bards of Ulster, became the Wards.

In the year 1986, a boy was born. He had bright red hair and fair skin. As he grew, he came to love stories of might and magic. He loved to read about these things, and the more he learned, the more he hungered for myth and legend.

One day, when the boy had reached that awkward thing between boyhood and manhood, he found his way to a very unusual shop that was tucked away in the misty lands of Appalachia. The shop was named Celtic Heritage, and it was filled with the relics of a long forgotten way of life. There were harps, jewels, books, and songs. There were pictures, hats, kilts, and scarves. And there was one book in particular that caught the boy's eye. It was a book of Heraldry and filled with the crests of families of all names. Intrigued, the boy scoured through its pages, until he came across a name that he knew all too well. Ward. His own name. How could this be? Looking at the page and reading further, something awoke in the young Ward's soul. A yearning for something long lost. He felt a great pull, but toward what, he did not yet fully comprehend. His destiny still lied before him.

Ten years from that day, I sit here. I, Zachary Trey Ward, one of the descendents of the Mac an Bháirds, now fully appreciate my ancestry. And I fully appreciate my calling. That day in the shop, I believe that something stirred inside me that remembered what it is to be a bard. I believe that all of my love for stories, songs, and myths is not just a coincidence. I believe that something ancient lives on in my blood and the blood of my family. I believe that I was always meant to be a bard. And I finally feel like I am in a place where I can pursue that goal. This is the first entry in a blog that will chronicle my travels along that path. I will reflect here and offer my thoughts to others for their feedback.

Just as the Celts saw wisdom in the turning wheel of the seasons, so has God brought everything back to a new beginning. Winter always turns back to Spring. The Celts have had a long a grand history, but it is not over. More is waiting to be told. The Celts may be spread out over the world, but they still linger. They may not know who they are, but the blood of the warrior-poet still flows though their veins. The Celts still fight to live on.