Feast Day of Colmcille

Today we celebrate the feast day of St. Colmcille, the Irish monk who lived and walked in Ireland and then went across the sea and founded Iona.

Last year in July, we walked the Turas Cholmcille in County Donegal that people will walk today.

Let me bless almighty God, whose power extends over sea and land, whose angels watch over all. Let me study sacred books to calm my soul; I pray for peace, kneeling at heaven’s gates. Let me do my daily work, gathering seaweed, catching fish, giving food to the poor. Let me say my daily prayers, sometimes chanting, sometimes quiet, always thanking God. Delightful it is to live on a peaceful isle, in a quiet cell, serving the King of kings.
Columba Celtic Fire: The Passionate Religious Vision of Ancient Britain and Ireland edited by Robert Van de Weyer

Turas Cholmcille

Yesterday we took a very special pilgrimage to ancient stones in the Glencolumkille village in County Donegal. 

The traditional name of the pilgrimage, Turas Cholmcille, means Columcille’s Stations (in Gaelic). We were led by two women from the local community, Margaret and Maura, who are trying to revive the pilgrimage. What an honor to have this walk shared with us. 

It is thought that Columcille lived in this community and, finding standing stones from ancient times, had Christian symbols carved on them. Then developed the tradition of a pilgrimage to these sites in reverence and penitence. 

The whole pilgrimage would take six hours to complete (barefoot) as the pilgrims visited the fifteen stations. We visited eight stations in the three hours we journeyed. (I kept my hiking boots on.) 

I am still reflecting on the experience. But wanted to share this. 

Pick up three stones,
The leader said,
And we will carry them up
To the cairn at Columcille’s Well.

I picked up three small stones And began to walk up and up and up
Along the trail, beside the sheep.

We stopped to rest
And looked out
At the valley below us.

I imagined the cairn we were traveling to …
A small, rounded pile of stones by the holy well.

When we walked around the curve in the mountain,
We found not a small rounded cairn,
But a mountain of stones.

How many pilgrims,
Each with three rocks,
Have made this climb?

Thousands and thousands of
Pilgrims have carried their stones
And left them there.

Thousands and thousands of
Pilgrims have walked three times
Around this cairn,
Setting down a stone each circuit.

Thousands and thousands of
Pilgrims have prayed here,
Have touched the holy water.

God of healing,
We lay before you these burdens,
These hopes, these sorrows.

St. Columcille,
You walked these paths and
Carried these stones.
Pray for us
That we might follow
The one who heals,
Who loves,
Who walks with us.