There were four major “fire” festivals for the ancient Celts marking the turn of the seasons — Beltane, Lughnasadh, Samhain, and Imbolc. These were the holy-days that fell halfway between the a solstice and an equinox. Imbolc falls between the winter solstice (Yule) and the spring equinox (Easter/Lady Day), around 1 February in the Latin calendar, and it marked the Celtic New Year and the beginning of spring. The weather was/is still cold, but it is time to get the livestock (especially sheep) up the duff (the word Imbolc literally means “in the belly” or pregnant) and the the days are noticeably longer now than they were before Christmas/Yule.
Imbolc was also a day sacred to the Celtic triple-goddess, Brigid. Represented as a maiden, a mother, and a crone, Brigid was goddess of fertility, poetry, spring, children, healing, arts, and almost all of the best things of new growth. When the days grew longer once more, the Celts believed it was in part because Brigid was warming the earth with her motherly love once again.
After the Celts became Christians, the festival of Imbolc became was remade into a suitable event for the church. The goddess transformed into a saint, St. Brigid of Kildare, and the first day of February became her feast day. The saint and goddess both essentially perform the same functions: watching over babies, the home, and other female-centric things. However, as time progressed, the more “manly” attributes of the goddess — like gifting poets and blacksmiths with their talent — were taken away from the saint.
As a precaution by the early church, 2 February (which could be the midpoint between Yule and Lady Day in some years) was also turned into a very female-centric holiday — Candlemas. On this day, tradition has it that the Virgin Mary went to be ‘purified’ forty days after the birth of Christ by giving a gift at the temple and presenting her new baby. Christian mothers were to follow this example for centuries, being “churched” forty days after they had given birth. In practice, it was more often than not a time to celebrate the safe delivery and recovered health of the mother than it was to ‘purify’ her once more.
Candelmas was also the OFFICIAL end of Christmastide. I personal think it is a shame that in order to pressure people into spending more money, Advent has been all but abolished in the modern era in favour of hectic pre-Christmas sales and events, and then when there is no more money to be made, the rest of the Christmas season is shunted to the side and forgotten. It would be more appropriate to put our Christmas decorations upon Christmas Eve, open presents on 12th night (night of 5 January), and just keep sing carols until Candlemas. Alas, Christmas is now more secular than religious for most people, and all about gifts. (I am less bothered by the secular aspect of the modern Christmas than I am about the commercialisation and greed it promotes.)
Imbolc and Brigid were associated with a distinctive ‘sun-cross’ of the early Celts. The pre-Christian Celts made the cross out of rushes the night before the holy-day, and hung them above their doors on Imbolc to bring the goddess’s blessing upon them and their household.
Later, this cross — and the explanation for it — was adapted by Christianity to be more reflective of St Brigid’s drive to convert the pagan Celts to the True Faith. The legend of the cross became that:
A pagan chieftain from the neighbourhood of Kildare was dying. Christians in his household sent for Brigid to talk to him about Christ. When she arrived, the chieftain was raving. As it was impossible to instruct this delirious man, hopes for his conversion seemed doubtful. Brigid sat down at his bedside and began consoling him. As was customary, the dirt floor was strewn with rushes both for warmth and cleanliness. Brigid stooped down and started to weave them into a cross, fastening the points together. The sick man asked what she was doing. She began to explain the cross, and as she talked, his delirium quieted and he questioned her with growing interest. Through her weaving, he converted and was baptised at the point of death. Since then, the cross of rushes has existed in Ireland.
Many Anglicans and Catholics (especially of Irish decent) still put a St. Brigid’s cross above their door to ask for protection and the blessing of their home to this day.
Imbolc has also been associated with weather predictions since pre-Christian Ireland. If it is raining and/or cold on Imbolc, then spring will come early, but warm/sunny weather on this day means at least six more weeks of hard winter chills. Catholics made these predictions on St Brigid’s day for centuries, but Protestants were livid about such ‘idle superstitions’ and tried to suppress it the same way they had forbidden Christmas celebrations. Of course, folklore isn’t so easily eradicated, so the Protestants eventually turned Imbolc/St Brigid’s Day/Candlemas into the rather tepid Groundhog Day to let people keep the weather predictions without allowing them the pagan/Catholic undertones.
In 2018, Imboc was sunny and mild here in our neck of the woods in south Wales, and sure enough we had a Snowpocalypse at the beginning of March. Our house was buried in snow, and honestly it didn’t really start warming up that year until almost May.
There may be a scientific explanation for why the old wives’ tale of weather prediction on Imbolc seems to be more accurate than it should be. If there is a warm spell in winter it can cause sudden stratospheric warming (SSW). The SSW can often result in an arctic outbreak because it screws around with the polar vortex. When the polar vortex is compromised, it allows cold air from the arctic to stream down into Europe. This unleashed arctic air flows westward (coming from northeast Siberia), and the fact Great Britain is an island nation means that lake effect happens — the icy arctic winds pick up a lot of moisture from the (relatively) warmer waters of the North Sea and that moisture turns into a massive snowfall once it hits the UK. In sum, the semi-heatwave occurring last Imbolc caused SSW, which brought snow and cold air in March, and the arctic air made it feel like a longer “winter” than normal in the UK.
Alas, Imbolc was sunny and warm this year, and the daffodils are already budding. On the other hand, St Brigid’s Day has been partly cloudy and cooler. Maybe … an absolutely medium spring? I’ll let you know how it turned out on Beltane, the next fire feast, which is the first of May.
