Here
is the ninth,
and so the last,
of
our Novenas for the Fallen Through, which for this month are devoted
to Brigid and to seeking justice and healing for the victims of the
Grenfell Tower fire. If you would like to read more about this work
please pop
and have a look here.
Today
we
weave a
prayer
of
return and of coming home.
I
have
written before about Brigid’s triple fires; of poetry
(inspiration), smithcraft (the forge of transformation), and of the
fire which we will light in our prayer today; that of hearth and
home.
The
hearth is at the centre of all human activity, or once was, and I
have written
before about our loss of connection to Fire. Scottish
writer and poet, William
Sharp (1855
- 1905)
wrote
of Brigid that she is the one, “whom the druids hold in honour as a
torchbearer of the eternal light, a
Daughter of the Morning, who held sunrise in one hand as a little
yellow flame, and in the other held the red flower of fire without
which man would be as the beasts who live in caves and holes..” It
is fire which in so many ways makes us human and Brigid is at the
centre of that fire.
On
her feast day of Imbolc/Candlemas, which falls on February 1st,
several traditional crafts dedicated to Brigid are
undertaken. On Imbolc eve families would have a special supper,
setting some food aside to be offered to Brigid. She would then be
symbolically invited into the house and a bed would be made for her.
This was a
small basket, often woven
from
gathered rushes, which would be made comfortable and the previous
year’s ‘Bridie doll’ or corn dolly placed in it, often
dressed in white and decorated with ribbons. It
would
then be
placed by the fire.
Brigid’s crosses might also be made, again from rushes, and then
hung in the home, over doors, windows, and stables, to protect it
from fire and lightning. Before
going to bed, people would leave items of clothing or pieces of cloth
for Brigid to bless as she went by. The ashes of the fire would then
be raked smooth and, in the morning, were carefully examined for
signs that Bride had come in. The cloth would then be brought inside
and used for protection and healing throughout the coming year.
I
will sain and smoor the hearth
As
Brigid
would sain and smoor.
The
encompassment of Brigid
on
the fire and on the floor,
and
on the household all.
Who
is on the land around us?
Brigid
and her daughters.
The
fire in the poet’s head.
The
tongue of truth aflame.
Grandmother
spirits watching the hearth,
till
white day comes to the fire. (1)
To
attend the hearthfire throughout the year was a sacred task, most
often performed by the ‘bean
a tighe’ (the
‘woman of the house’), who would kindle the fire each day, and
then smoor the fire, banking it down each night to be rekindled in
the morning, and all with prayers and blessings. Both
family and community were considered extensions of the hearth; the
centre of everything was the home, and in the centre of the home, the
fire, and
in the centre of the fire, Brigid.
This
is true relationship with fire. I have often wondered in the months
since the Grenfell fire how our loss of that relationship might have
contributed to it becoming such a force of destruction, rather than a
friend to warm the heart of our lives and families.
Even so, even
in
the case of Grenfell, the
fire, like Brigid’s, has most certainly brought
transformation and revealed much that was hidden.
And
‘home’ is such a rich and deep word.
It
is a noun:
-
a
house, or other shelter, which is the usual residence of a person,
family, or household.
-
the
place in which one’s domestic affections are centred.
-
the
dwelling place or retreat of an animal.
-
a
person’s native place or home country.
An
adjective:
-
of,
or relating to, one’s home or country; domestic, ie: domestic GDP.
-
reaching
the mark aimed at; a home thrust.
An
adverb:
And
a verb:
Such
worlds held within these meanings, such longing, so
many fierce battles for land and ownership, so much pain, and so much comfort and belonging. And in the sound of the words on the lips, and
their meaning in the heart, Brigid.
Many
victims of the Grenfell fire had chosen, or been forced by
circumstances to leave their ‘native
place’ and make a home on our soil, which
can never be easy. Still
others were born here, knew
this place as their only home, learned what it means to welcome, or
struggled with welcome as humans sometimes do.
I
am sure that some had lived in the tower since it was built in 1974.
It
was the place where many people’s ‘domestic affections’ were
centred. Nevertheless,
concerns had been raised by residents for many years about the risk
of fire within the building. I know from personal experience how it
feels to lie every night in a place that feels vulnerable to fire,
and not to dare speak for fear of being made homeless. That is not an
environment in which it’s easy to feel at home and yet, for the
people of Grenfell, it feels that the sense of community made it so.
On
the night of the fire Steve Power, who lived on the 14th
floor, refused to leave his two bull terriers, 21 year old, Yasin El
Wahabi, is said to have run inside hoping to help his family. Neither
survived. Many
are reported to have stayed and died with the people they loved,
rather than get to safety alone, and many were making phone calls to
their families, telling them that they loved them, saying goodbye, as
smoke came under their doors. Because ‘home’ is about more than
walls and windows and doors; it is held deep, in the heart.
On
the night of the fire many of the survivors lost everything that they
owned and have been forced to start again. Most
still remain in emergency
accommodation. In
September, Communities Secretary, Savid Javid, said that 196 families
from Grenfell Tower and Grenfell Walk are still waiting for a new
home. Some have accepted offers of temporary accommodation and
others, not wishing to face the upheaval of moving twice, are waiting
for a permanent home to become available. There are fears that many
will be rehoused miles from their community and support system.
Novena
for the Fallen Through ~
Justice,
healing, and wholeness for the people of Grenfell, and for us all.
This
prayer begins with Fire.
Blessed
Brigid,
Holy
Woman,
Saint
and Goddess,
Mother
of Fire.
Brigid
of the mantles,
Brigid
of the peat heap,
Brigid
of the twining hair,
Mary
of the Gaels.
Brigid,
Sacred Centre of Hearth and Heart,
we
ask for a blessing on all our homes,
whatever
‘home’ might mean to each one of us.
We
ask for those without a home,
or
who have no sense of what a home is,
to
find one and to settle with gentle ease,
for
those who have found their dwelling place
to
be held safely and securely,
to
know home as a sanctuary and a place of peace.
We
think of all those who are seeking home in lands not their own,
all
who have been cast upon the sea, or make journeys across land,
hoping
to find a safe resting place.
May
they be protected, filled with hope,
and
may that hope act as a beacon to draw them ever closer to refuge.
And
may all who have settled on our shores find that this too
can
be a home for them and for their families.
Blessed
Brigid,
Holy
Woman,
Saint
and Goddess,
Mother
of Fire.
Brigid
of the mantles,
Brigid
of the peat heap,
Brigid
of the twining hair,
Mary
of the Gaels.
We
ask that all homes should be places of shelter,
warmed
by your flame, by the memory of ancient peat fires,
of
pots stirred and meals eaten, of love made, and laughter shared,
places
were loneliness is softened, and prayers are woven,
and
where we have the serenity and time to learn
that
home means more than walls and a door.
We
honour the memory of all the homes that were lost
to
the Grenfell fire,
and
we honour the people, the pets, the community,
and
the place, that made them so.
In
our prayer we remember the non-human people;
the
cats and dogs, the birds and fish, the mice and hamsters,
rats,
gerbils, and rabbits, who made Grenfell Tower a home
and
who were lost to the fire.
And
we remember the other beings; spiders, and rodents, green beings,
nesting
birds, and others, who had made the Tower their home.
We
ask for blessings for their journeys.
Blessed
Brigid,
Holy
Woman,
Saint
and Goddess,
Mother
of Fire.
Brigid
of the mantles,
Brigid
of the peat heap,
Brigid
of the twining hair,
Mary
of the Gaels.
We
ask that all those made homeless by the Grenfell fire
are
soon rehoused in places that can become a home again,
that
they are offered choice and given power in the process,
and
that they are given all the support they need to settle
where
they can rest, and grieve, and heal, and rebuild all that was lost.
And
may the remains of the Grenfell Tower, which was once a home to many,
be
given the honour that their community would wish,
allowing
the people a say in what unfolds in that place,
so
that what was burned to ashes, blackened against blue sky,
becomes
a prayer to what was mended, not to what was lost.
We
ask this in memory of Mohammed
Neda, Ali Yawar Jafari,
Karen
Bernard, Lucas James, Rania Ibrahim and her daughters,
Fathia
and Hania, Stefan Anthony Mills, Ligaya Moore.
We
ask this in memory of Zainab
Dean and her son, Jeremiah,
Khadija
Saye and her mother, Mary Mendy, Gary Maunders,
Mohammad
Alhajali, Hesham Rahman, Tony Disson, Sheila Smith.
We
ask this in memory of
Mariem Elgwahry and
her mother, Suhar,
Jessica
Urbano Ramirez, Deborah Lamprell, Steve Power,
Dennis
Murphy, Amal Ahmedin and Amaya Tuccu, Isaac Paulos.
We
ask this in memory of
Marco Gottardi, and
Gloria Trevisan,
Mohammed
Nurdu, Fouzia el-Wahabi, her husband, Abdul Aziz,
Nur
Huda and Mehdi, Yasin.
We
ask this in memory of
Nadia Loureda, Maria
Del Pilar Burton,
Berkti
Haftom and her son, Biruk, Nura Jamal, her husband, Hashim,
their
children, Yahya, Firdaws, Yaqub, Kamru Miah.
We
ask this in memory of
Fatima Afrasehabi,
her sister, Sakina,
Nadia
Choucair, her husband, Baseem Choukair,
their
children, Mierna, Fatima,
Zainab,
their
grandmother, Sirria, Raymond Bernard.
We
ask this in memory of Majorie
Vital and her son, Ernie,
Joseph
Daniels, Logan Gomes, Khadija Khalloufi,
Abdeslam Sebbar,
Fathia
Ahmed and her son, Abufars Ibrahim. Of Omar Belkadi,
Farah
Hamdan, Malak, Leena, and Tamzin who lived.
Of
Mohamednur
Tuccu, Husna and Rebaya Begum,
Mohammed
Hanif, Mohammed Hamid, Vincent Chiejina, Hamid Kani,
a
‘woman’ unnamed, all the unnamed, the disappeared.
Brigid,
Goddess
and Saint,
keening
woman,
mid-woman,
hearth
tender,
sacred
flame.
May
all beings effected by the Grenfell fire,
whether
living or dead, find peace,
and
may none be held where they would not wish to be
by
their names and faces being shared in the media,
online,
by the demand for justice, or even by our prayers.
We
ask that they be led home
and
wish them open pathways.
Brigid,
weaving woman, warp and weft,
we
have offered prayers to the fires of
hope,
respect, gratitude, inspiration,
welcome,
truth, justice, and home,
and
to the waters of healing.
We
ask, with deep gratitude, that these prayers of fire burn brightly,
that
these prayers of water flow sweetly,
as
we let the threads go,
returning
home to ourselves,
knowing
that you have picked them up to be woven
into
a beauty blanket for the people of Grenfell
and
for us all.
Brigid,
gold-red woman,
Brigid,
flame and honeycomb,
Brigid,
sun of womanhood,
Brigid,
lead me home.
You
are a branch in blossom,
You
are a sheltering dome,
You
are my bright, precious freedom,
Brigid,
lead me home. (3)
This
prayer ends with Fire. Let it be the Fire of Home.
For
this we pray.
Aho
mitake oyasin, amen, blessed be. Inshallah.
References:
On Imbolc ~
