Fr Paddy Byrne: For a small country, we punch far above our weight
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TODAY we celebrate our national holiday, St Patrick's day. The origin of these festivities belong to our rich Christian heritage, which Patrick himself fanned into flame. The current volatile situation in the Middle East continues to affect the global economy. Many Irish citizens feel vulnerable regarding the escalation of fuel and gas prices. As a brand, being Irish is something to be very proud of. For a small country, we punch far above our weight when it comes to global recognition of the rich heritage and culture we enjoy.
St Patrick’s feast day is now a global event. The Irish diaspora have contributed significantly to the four corners of the world. In this regard, civic buildings and national monuments will cheerfully be ‘greened’ to celebrate our national holiday. St Patrick was a courageous, faith-filled and prophetic voice. His intelligent delivery of Christianity embraced a rich celtic spirituality that celebrated life and seasons when he walked upon our shore. I pray that this great feast day will continue to offer hope and inspiration. Parishes and villages across the country will gather and celebrate the great gift of community, volunteerism, sport, music and culture.
On St Patrick’s day, we celebrate our Irishness and our faith. For so long in our history, they have been intertwined, perhaps at times identified. As a result, we may have been tempted to take our faith for granted. Admittedly, we did not have to fight for it or die for it as our ancestors did. They were challenged by their faith and responded generously to that challenge.
Annually, we tell the story and keep the memory of Patrick, slave, keeper of sheep, bishop, miles Christi, apostle and patron of Ireland. We retell and, in some cases, rehabilitate his story, that we might understand something more of our own identity, of our own living, through the prism of his. This telling is complex, as much of what we have come to know of the man and his life is drawn from an amalgam of fact and legend. Many voices and causes have shouted down the centuries, rallying Patrick to their particular cause, painting him for their own image and likeness.
But take away the airbrushing, the dear little shamrock, the crozier-stabbed snakes and the sweet smiling mitred prelate, smash the glass and crumble the stone and all that is left is … well, the man, as in his own words he reveals himself to us: Ego Patricius peccator – I am Patrick. a sinner, a simple country person, and the least of all believers, utterly worthless in the eyes of many.
His principal writing, his ‘Confession,’ is far more than a mere apologia to his critics, but rather a testimony, a declaration of his faith and of God’s grace at work in his life. Here we meet the raw humanity of a man bearing no resemblance to that caricature. A man whose struggle with life events resonates in a much deeper way in reality with ours, particularly during this time of global crisis and war. Patrick was a man of the now.
A slave for six years from the age of 16, his only day was today. Slaves didn’t have a future, they didn’t generally get away, ‘today’ was all he had; life or death. And it was into this today of tedium and isolation that God became known to him. The trappings of what was a life of privilege at home now stripped, he had all the time in the world for nothing, as it were, and God made his way in.
Isn’t it often the case for us that when all which is not essential has been stripped away, at our simplest, deepest, sometimes loneliest and desolate selves we find God, or having cried out, we encounter the God who, in fact, has never been absent from us. Dia i gcónaí ar na sleibhte, na gleannta ‘s ar na maighe, that ever-present God in the highs, the lows and the even plains of our daily living. This is the God that, for Patrick, as for us, truly frees us from our ‘stuck’ places: ‘...like a stone lying in the deep mud,’ Patricks describes it, ‘the Lord heaved me up and placed me on top of a wall.’ And, it wasn’t just that God, for Patrick, was ever present. God was the centre.
Patrick was clearly well versed in scripture and prayed by day and by night, in rain, hail and snow. But beyond this, he was, I think, deeply contemplative. It’s clear that prayer was not simply an activity, but the very attitude of his being; as if his breathing pulse was the Spirit and every moment, movement and word were of Christ. This God, to Patrick, was the fount and source, the one who formed, who knew, who consecrated, who appointed, who commanded, who put his words in Patrick’s mouth … ‘it was not by my own grace, but God working in me…’ Patrick regularly says. ‘Christ as centre,’ as Thomas Merton says, ‘in whom and by whom one is.’ It is Patrick’s own life that was possibly the real landscape of mission. That wilderness where the outpouring of God’s unconditional love and grace was sown and rooted for a lifetime of encounter. Here was the seedbed of God’s action. Patrick, a man all too familiar with adversity and suffering; loneliness for his own family and place, brokenness from betrayal, daily fear of enslavement and death; with God’s grace, becomes resilient, courageous and persevering. How beautiful became those muddied feet, the bringer of good news.
This good news, for us is not simply a memory recalled, it is rather as the Lenten antiphon sings: ‘Now is the favourable time. This, today, is the day of our Salvation.
St Patrick's breastplate is a popular prayer attributed to one of Ireland’s most beloved patron saints. According to tradition, St Patrick wrote it in 433 AD for divine protection before successfully converting the Irish king Leoghaire and his subjects from paganism to Christianity (the term breastplate refers to a piece of armour worn in battle).
Christ with me,
