Alphabet Writing Series - C

(Written November, 2007)

c

cloot – n; one division of a cloven foot

I stumbled across the word cloot the other day on a list of unusual words. I’ve never heard of it before, but it means one division of a cloven foot. Cloot lead me to several more interesting words: Clootie and Old Cloots are Scottish names for the Devil; clootie (again from the Scots) means a strip of cloth or rag; clootie wells are places of pilgrimage in Celtic areas where strips of a cloth or rag have been left at a well or spring as part of a healing ritual; and finally, the yummy clootie dumpling, a fruit laden Scottish pastry, gets its name from the cloth (or cloot) in which it is steamed.

I understand the connection between a cloot (relating to a cloven hoof) and Clootie (the Devil) since the old snake is often portrayed as a creature having a cloven foot. Some think this picture of Satan came about during medieval times when Christian depictions of the Devil merged with that of Pan, the pagan goat-footed god. Often representing a type of uncleanness, a goat would fittingly portray the prince of unclean spirits.

But, the connection with strips of cloths or rags is a little harder to understand. Maybe because a cloot is a division of a cloven foot and the cloot as in a rag is a division or strip of a whole piece of cloth? Perhaps.

Clootie wells are intriguing. They were a place, usually with a spring or well, to which people would come to wash their physical ailments away. Little carvings of the afflicted body parts would be thrown in as an offering to the spirit of the well. I can just see little arms and legs being flung down into the moist darkness and villagers peering over the sides, hoping against hope that their suffering would soon come to an end. At some point, people just started bringing their piece of cloth (cloot) to the well, dipped it in the water, and used it to wash their body. Then they hung up the cloth on a nearby tree or bush. When the cloot became dry, the hope was, their ailment would be healed. Clootie wells still exist in some places of Ireland and Scotland today!

So – clootie wells made me start thinking about healing and where (or with whom) do I put my faith and trust when I need curing. God has graciously given me good health these past 39 years. Thankfully, I’ve had no serious sicknesses to speak of other than the typical maladies that come from having three babies and living life. However, what I have needed often is emotional healing. I have had some arrows stuck deep and carried since girlhood, that when pulled out have bled unmercifully. I’ve had some self-inflicted wounds that have been quite a mess to clean up not to mention long to heal. And I still get some glancing blows every now and then that smart like the dickens and leave nasty bruises. I’m sure your experience is similar.

I’m afraid I’m guilty of trying to heal myself with worldly remedies and superstitious rituals just as those visitors of the clootie wells did. I have dipped my rags in the wells of denial, isolation, and self-reliance - often and deep. Denial that I even have any arrows sticking out of me; Isolation to try to hide the oozing sores from the sight of others; Self-reliance in the mistaken idea that I myself can fix everything that is wrong.

And like so many before me at the clootie wells, I have been disappointed when the spirit of the well (in this case me) didn’t provide relief from the pain. My only hope, my only comfort, my only release has come as I have started down the path of acknowledging that I have these arrows jutting out in the first place, that I actually need others to not only see my wounds, but to help me bind them up, and that I cannot heal myself. I need the Great Physician - not vague superstitions and vain rituals. Only in Him can the arrows be removed and the wounds healed. Scars are left, yes. But these days I see the scars more as evidence of battles won and victories claimed rather than failures or death sentences.

Jesus, send me deep into Your waters. Wash me, heal me. Help me to trust in Your ways of healing my wounds, not in that of man, not in that of myself. Amen.

John 9:1-7
As he went along, he saw a man blind from birth. His disciples asked him, "Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?"

"Neither this man nor his parents sinned," said Jesus, "but this happened so that the work of God might be displayed in his life. As long as it is day, we must do the work of him who sent me. Night is coming, when no one can work. While I am in the world, I am the light of the world."

Having said this, he spit on the ground, made some mud with the saliva, and put it on the man's eyes. "Go," he told him, "wash in the Pool of Siloam" (this word means Sent). So the man went and washed, and came home seeing.

Oh – one more thing - as far as the clootie dumpling, here’s a link with a recipe and directions for those brave enough to give it a try:

http://www.scottishrecipes.co.uk/clootiedumpling.htm

"Some talk that the devil hath a cloven foot; but whatever the devil's foot be, to be sure his sons have a cloven heart." Richard Alleine