Psalm 107:1-22; Romans 9:30-33
Last Monday was St. Patrick’s Day. So belatedly we’re going to look at the patron saint of Ireland, though he was not born Irish. From his extensive work over his lifetime he has become an integral part of the Irish heritage through his service in Ireland since the 5th Century.
For years and years, my concept of St. Patrick’s Day was a time for wearing of the green, eating corned beef and cabbage, and drinking a pint or two of Guinness Stout. If it weren’t for this holiday, I probably would never have looked into his life. In so doing, it became apparent that there is a purpose and reason for human events
Magonus Sucatus Patricus was born in Roman Briton about 385 A.D., of well-to-do Christian parents. His father was Calpurnius, a Roman-British army officer. Though his father was a deacon in the church, it is suggested that he held the office for tax purposes. Roman Briton consisted of what we call England and Scotland. Young Patrick was probably no more interested in religion than most boys. What worse fate could befall this sixteen year old boy, raised in a home, nominally Christian, but where pagan beliefs were definitely frowned upon, than to be captured by Irish traders and sold as a slave to a master who practiced human sacrifice? For six years, the boy watched over his owner’s herds of sheep and pigs while recalling his Christian teachings he had absorbed without realizing it. He became a Christian and prayed for deliverance. He was what many of us have termed a “battlefield conversion.”
Patrick’s prayers were answered; he escaped and roamed penniless through Italy and France, eventually making it back to his family in Briton. But God had plans for him; He was speaking to him...in dreams, visions and voices. Night after night, Patrick heard Irish voices pleading with him to come back and teach them about the God he’d come to know so well. Go back? Back to the place of suffering, to the very people who had wronged him? You gotta to be out of your mind! But this was what Patrick came to believe God wanted him to do. He joined a monastery and studied under St. Germain, the Bishop of Auxerre. It took him a quarter of a century to complete his theological training. Eventually the Pope sent him as the second bishop of Ireland following St. Palladius who was transferred to Scotland. This tends to negate the story that Patrick was sent to convert the Irish to Christianity. More accurately might be to say he was sent to continue the conversion.
His former captivity had given him invaluable knowledge of the people and the land. With love for the Lord buring in his heart, he traveled the island witnessing to the hostile people of God’s Son and salvation. At an age when many of us have thought of or actually retired, he succeeded in completing the mission of transforming Ireland from a pagan to a Christian country without any bloodshed. With the decades of bloodshed between the Catholic and Protestant factions, Northern Ireland could have used another Patrick.
Patrick was very successful at winning converts and, through his preaching, he made important converts among some of the royal families. This fact greatly upset the Celtic Druids, so Patrick wound up being arrested many times and somehow he managed to escape each time.
For over twenty years, he traveled Ireland establishing monasteries across the country. He set up schools and churches which would aid him in his evangelistic work. During this time he developed a clergy fostering the growth of monasticism and then established dioceses where church councils were held. He seemed to be very skillful in church organization and administration.
By the end of the 7th century, Patrick had become a legendary figure and his legend has continued to grow ever since. There are many legends associated with St. Patrick. It is said that he used the three leafed shamrock to explain the concept of the Trinity. Legend has it that he had put the curse of God on venomous snakes in Ireland and that he drove all the snakes into the sea. It is probably more accurate to interpret the legend as his role in driving the pagans out of Ireland. By superimposing the sun on the cross he made the cross more acceptable to these people who worshipped nature in its myriad of forms. Thus was born what is known as the Celtic Cross, the form that adorns our church.
His final mission in Ireland lasted over 20 years and he died on March 17, AD 461, the date observed as St. Patrick’s Day. It was observed originally as a religious holiday in Ireland and was kept as such for hundreds of years. Since the date falls during Lent, special dispensation was given so meat, which was Irish bacon, could be served with cabbage for the feast, giving rise to our secularized modern day tradition, whatever the heritage, of eating corned beef and cabbage on St. Patrick;s Day. Though the first St. Patrick;’s Day parade was not held in Ireland, but in New York City in 1762, it is interesting to note that St. Patrick’s Day is observed worldwide, in countries like Japan and Singapore, with dancing, parades, corned beef and cabbage, Guiness Stout, all seven yards.
Though it is well to wear the green, join in the fetivities and even be Irish for the day, the thing that we should remember is St. Patrick’s resolve...a resolve that he couldn’t forget, even though it took decades to fulfill. When I think of the many resolves that I have yet to fulfill, I tend to get discouraged, but then I think of St. Patrick’s example, and dare to dream.
Sometimes when we look back, we can see how past troubles have prepared us for challenges in the present. What we have confronted as stumbling blocks become building blocks---part of God’s plan, a plan alive with meaning.
Patrick is not truly a saint in the Catholic tradition as he has never been canonized by Rome. Notwithstanding, some writers have nevertheless downplayed Patrick’s right to sainthood...no charming the snakes off the Emerald Isle because there weren’t any there; no miracles of record. But then, what kind of miracles warrant consideration for sainthood? He got messages from God; however, I suspect many of us have received messages in one form or another. I believe the steadfast obedience to God’s messages is the miracle. His autobiography, Confession of St. Patrick, is one of the most unique records of his life. He describes the things that happened to his life but most importantly with focus on his spiritual growth.
His response some fifteen hundred years ago are as modern as tomorrow. He bought and freed slaves as he Christianized. He advocated mass education and literacy, previously restricted to the elite. He introduced the written Gospels, book culture and the Latin alphabet. He insisted his converts learn and then teach others, shades of Frank Laubach. And all of this came just in the nick of time, for when the Dark Ages engulfed Western Europe, it was mainly his converts across the Irish Sea who kept the flame of Christianity and culture alive.
There have been Patricks in every age. Corrie ten Boom ministering to the Germans in whose prisons her father and sister died. Elizabeth Elliot returning to serve the Ecuadoran Indians who murdered her husband. Steve Mariotti, the New York City businessman mugged by a street gang, turning his business into a classroom where street kids learn to be entrepreneurs. Our own Mitch Moore, who starting with a deflated basketball and a half dozen boys in the alley behind the Parish House, built HOLA into a million dollar inner city organization, where kids of all colors, learn to live as good neighbors with one another. Another Patrick is born each time you and I encounter hate and answer instead, “I love you.”