What's the big Rush?

Happy St. Brigid’s Feast Day! And Friday! And first day of Spring (in Ireland). The swimsuits and flip-flops are already out in the stores, so that means it must be Spring.

Notice the icon that sits pleasantly to the left of the website tab. I’ll give you a hint: it’s small, green, and shaped like a tiny cross. And it’s recently become very much a part of our daily routine. Go to the church. Home for supper. Make Brigid crosses. Go to an evening programme. Make more Brigid crosses. Go to sleep. Dream about Brigid crosses. (Well, maybe not that last one.) But the making of the sturdy little rush crosses can only mean one thing…that we are comin’ on up to the Brigid Celebration this Sunday evening. So do let me know if you have a knack for making crosses from rushes (a pipe cleaner Brigid cross is called cheating) and would like to fedex sayyy….138 crosses to us by Sunday. We would be most happy to find homes for each of them. But aside from providing an opportunity to catch up on TV shows during the making of the many, the crosses are actually really wonderful. It’s tough to see how the mass of rushes could ever be formed into a neat and beautiful cross shape. And even when they’re being crossed one over another, the ends are browned at the tip, the bind is loosening at the centre, and the many stalks look like my hair after walking down to the church in the midst of the many elements dealt out by the lovely mother earth. And I guess, in that way, it’s hard to envision ourselves as a crucial member in the Body of Christ. As a piece of something beautiful and complete. Because sometimes, we might just feel like a heap of disorganized rushes and can’t see the strength and grace of the cross of St. Brigid. But, as in the game of Jenga, take one of those thin green strands out of the cross, and the whole cross is off balance. Each piece is necessary in the completion of the project. Each of us is essential to the Body of Christ. And as we bend and mold and tweak and nudge the rushes into their proper places, so too does God mold us to grow into the person he’s created us to be. A person whose existence is such an asset to our world.

In other news, Clonard’s first Passion Play has taken its first step with our auditions this past week. When lacking characters, (especially for male roles) my actor recruitment process has basically been this: “Hello, sir whom I don’t know. You have a beard. How would you like to be in a Passion Play?” Of course, the output from that approach has been…well…zero, but I’m not giving up. We did have a very encouraging turnout with about 25 people and a few more trickling in since. The play is set to be on Palm Sunday evening and will showcase the gifts and talents of Wexford’s actors, singers, musicians, costumers, “butchers, bakers, and candlestick makers.” And until then, apologies to my patient housemates who will be receiving daily earfulls of Passion Play music while I hum through the lot of it.

Which brings us to tonight…folk group rehearsal and the Wexford Caca Millis Caberet, a truly impressive display of musicians, poets, a film director, and a belly dancer from all over Wexford. It was a most unique yet thoroughly enjoyable evening!

Now shame on you if you’re reading this and haven’t already made several Brigid crosses! What’s that? You don’t know how to make a Brigid cross? Ahh, fret not indeed, for the youtube comes to the rescue:

This lady (and her cat) does a wonderful job teaching the viewer how to make the lovely little things. Give it a try, if you dare! I’m sure whatever effort you make will turn out better than my first attempt which looked like a cross between a boomerang and a lumpy drink coaster.

Pictures of Sunday’s Celebration of St. Brigid to come. Here are some pictures of the beach on a sunny day in the meantime. 🙂