No, I'm Not Wearing Orange for St. Patrick's Day

 

When I was ten or so, I came running downstairs in my bare feet and messy hair, and in a bright orange, long-sleeved blouse topped by a spinach-green poncho. Ponchos were the rage then. I promise my color palette choices were not. It was St. Patrick's Day. I dashed to the kitchen where my mom was apologetically dyeing our lunch milk green since we couldn't go for Shamrock shakes that day, stood in front of her, and said, "Look, Mom! I'm wearing green and orange!"

I'd been recently taught that the Reformed color was orange, and that green belonged to those Catholics. Having always worn green on St. Patrick's Day before but nevertheless theologically convicted, I decided to compromise and wear a horrid but nevertheless laugh-worthy combination. My mom took a picture and still tells the story to this day.

Tomorrow, however, I'm wearing blue.

When I was about fifteen/sixteen, I went through an Irish history craze. I studied ancient Ireland and modern Ireland to the point that I probably knew more about the Irish revolutions than about the American Revolution. My younger sister complained that I talked about it so much, she could probably write a dissertation on Irish mythology herself. But something I rediscovered among all of this history was my old appreciation for St. Patrick.

St. Patrick's history is probably familiar to all of us. He was kidnapped as a teenager from England to Ireland, where he was converted before returning to England, becoming a bishop, and then receiving a call to Ireland as a missionary. That's the short story, anyway. A lesser-known detail is that Patrick was not the first missionary to Ireland. His only known predecessor,  deacon St. Palladius was sent from Gaul to Ireland with four companions in the area of modern day Dublin in Counties Meath and Leinster, and not so much as an evangelist but as a minister to "the saints in Ireland." So long before Patrick, and even before Palladius, there were Christians in Ireland. Part of me wonders if the faith reached there through the same means that Patrick reached Ireland, the slave trade, or if through contacts in Spain, where the Celts did have trade connections. But that's merely speculation on my part.

Patrick took it upon himself to minister largely to the counties of Ulster and Connacht in the northern part of the island, where Protestant Northern Ireland lies today. It's a cold, rocky area. Beautiful, but hard nevertheless, and Connachtans and Ulstermen were notoriously the harshest and fiercest of the Irishmen in those days. Just read mythological stories: the most brutal warriors and cruelest characters come from these regions. But if you read Patrick's confession, where the popular summarized story of his spiritual history can be found, he only counts his hardships as blessings so long as others are saved and hear the gospel. He takes a slow and careful approach to evangelism: instead of "getting 'em saved," Patrick's goal was to start an indigenous church by planting a local parish and encouraging the native men and women to take on their respective positions. His missionary methods were immensely successful, and long before a church was set in continental Europe, the Irish church was flourishing. And this was under the directorship of a man who called himself uneducated and likely was rather uneducated: his writings are difficult to read because they are written by an untrained, inexperienced hand. But this did not stop Patrick from serving Christ to the best of His abilities.

Not only did Patrick take an indigenous approach to evangelism, but in his apologetics as well. One night, the festivities of a pagan festival were occurring on the Hill of Tara, involving a massive bonfire (the Celts were rather pyromaniac when it came to parties). Patrick responded by lighting his own massive fire to the glory of God on the Hill of Slane (where the tune to Be Thou My Vision gets its name). Seems legit, but Patrick didn't just pick any old hill. Tara, where the pagans were, was associated with death and hell in Celtic mythology. In a famous fairytale, the hero of ancient Ireland Finn MacCool locked up a horde of demons inside the hill to prevent them from terrorizing the living and the dead. But Slane, where Patrick was, supposedly had a life-giving, healing well on its heights. It is not ironic that Patrick chose the Hill of Life to set a light to combat with the Hill of Death.

Patrick also used local folklore to his advantage. People talk about the shamrock, but the shamrock may have actually come from Palladius. Regardless, trios and threes were common in Celtic art, mythology, and culture. The concept of the Trinity was not difficult for the Celts to grasp, nor was baptism: washing by water for inner renewal was already a part of Celtic lifestyle. Patrick found cultural similarities and used them to explain the gospel message.

While Patrick promoted the monastic lifestyle, he otherwise is rather unRoman in his theology and is very Augustinian. He speaks frequently of the sovereignty of God, and even of predestination in his letter to Coroticus. But his ultimate goal was to emulate his savior, which is made evident in his Lorica. While the Lorica is commonly known as Patrick's breastplate, a lorica was an impenetrable, magical mail from Irish mythology that could never be destroyed. Patrick saw our assurance in Christ as our Lorica.

Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me,
Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ on my right, Christ on my left
Christ where I lie, Christ where I sit, Christ where I arise
Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of every man who speaks of me,
Christ in every eye that sees me,
Christ in every ear that hears me.

Thus writes a great and admirable man of God, who all Christians should be able to celebrate. 

Returning to the Catholic vs. Protestant color scheme argument, sorry to disappoint everyone, but St. Patrick's color is actually blue, not green. So I'll be happily wearing blue. But to each their own.  Enjoy your shamrock shakes and your Christian heritage.