It is said that everyone in the world is Irish today in honor of Saint Patrick. It would be a very worthwhile endeavor this year, given the cloud of dispiritedness that seems to have settled on us, if we would all honor him by striving to be more like him.
The lesser-known aspects of this remarkable slave-turned-social justice advocate are far more important and inspiring than any of the enchanting myths and legends we associate with him.
In actuality, Patrick wasn’t officially ever anointed a saint, he wasn’t a fan of green beer, and he wasn’t even Irish.
The elements of Patrick’s story and life unornamented by folk tale are that he was born somewhere in Roman Britain around 385 C.E. His name was Patricius. He came from a wealthy family. And it is not believed that he was particularly religious.
As a teenager, around the age of 16, he was abducted and taken to Ireland, where he was enslaved and forced to work long, hard days as a hillside shepherd until he escaped after about six years.
He made it back home, but at some point he felt a calling to join the priesthood and, further, believed he needed to return to Ireland. Ireland was not only the country of his enslavement and a place regarded by civilized societies of the day as primitive, but it was also a most perilous spot to choose to take up residence if one didn’t have to. Incessant tribal warfare, human sacrifice, and pervasive enslavement marked Irish culture at the time. Those in Ireland who were inclined toward religious customs tended to favor naturalistic belief systems.
The mystery of why Patrick returned to Ireland and committed to spending the rest of his days there is addressed in his own hand in Confession
Although it’s generally agreed that Patrick didn’t write Confession until later in life when he was esteemed as the bishop of Ireland, he characterizes himself as a “simple” and “imperfect” man who had to overcome a fear born of his lack of formal education. He regarded himself as “unlearned” and even as somewhat of an outcast.
However, despite a life of difficulty, he expressed deep gratitude for “great favors in this world” and spoke of the “wonders” of life.
Patrick stood up for those who were looked down upon, including people who were impoverished; women, whom he afforded great dignity; and slaves, who, he said, “suffer the most.”
At one point, he was captured again, probably by one of the many powerful warlords, and “fettered … in irons.” “… daily I expect to be murdered or betrayed or reduced to slavery,” he wrote.
He denounced slavery in his impassioned “Letter to Coroticus,” singling out Coroticus for preying on women and distributing them as “prizes.”
It was the practice of the times for warlords and powerful people to lavish gifts on others of influence as a way of assuring alliance and allegiance. But as Patrick’s reputation and standing increased and he was the recipient of such gifts, he quietly navigated around the practice, so as to work hard to preserve his integrity.
While the church and his own superiors often employed violence, coercion, and threat to pile up religious converts, Patrick’s abiding love and affection for the Irish people, countryside, and culture – though very different from his own – is what won him their appreciation, affection, and following.
Historians and scholars agree that Patrick had a stunningly positive impact on Ireland. By the time he died sometime around 461 C.E., he had made great strides in helping Ireland renounce enslavement and human sacrifice, and had helped them adopt far more peaceful approaches to problem-solving, as well as instilled in their society a spirit of aiding the poor.
Patrick’s teachings and deeds had a profound impact on a young girl named Brigid of Kildare, whose life’s work on behalf of the dispossessed carried on when Patrick’s time came to an end. Like Patrick, Brigid is believed to have come from a wealthy family, but she demonstrated an extravagant love for those of lesser means. She, too, went on to become one of Ireland’s patron saints.
Of all of Patrick’s lasting contributions, historian and author Thomas Cahill credits Patrick with doing the world the great service of helping to preserve Western literature and classic works of antiquity. In his delightful book, How the Irish Saved Civilization
On the issue of slavery, Cahill asserts that Patrick was the first person in history to oppose slavery. After Patrick, more than a millennium would pass before abolitionists risked their reputations and livelihoods in England and then in the United States fighting to scotch slavery once and for all.
Looking back through the lens of contemporary times, what may be most remarkable about Patrick is that his popularity is as deep as it is wide. It slices across nearly all of the things that are commonly used to divide us – politics, nationality, race, gender, creed, and even religion.
Protestants, Catholics, evangelicals, mystics, and New Agers all lay claim to him and his achievements and maintain that his core beliefs are in accord with their own.
Likewise, politicians from across many aisles and leaders on opposing sides of even wider ideological chasms ennoble Patrick’s work.
Of course, perhaps the single largest group to lay claim to Patrick’s legacy are those who will take time out from their anxieties, rendezvous with lovers, friends, and family, and merrily lift a moist pint of Murphy, Smithwick’s, or Guinness.
That, too, is as it should be on Saint Patrick’s Day, because by all accounts Patrick seems to have been an earthy, warm, humble person of good humor.
In the gallery of time, he is one of those souls who appears to have been preternaturally well suited to his moment and place in history. But he is a person for our own times, too. He knew joy, fulfillment, love, and pleasure, even in the midst of pain, sacrifice, and discomfort.
That people from all walks of life all around the world will honor him and hoist a glass in his memory speaks well of the true nature of the human spirit and reminds us of the sort of acts, qualities, and virtues that most of us universally admire. It is something in which we can find hope, encouragement, and empowerment. These are articles that have been in short supply of late, yet do not have to be.
It was Benjamin Franklin who once said beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy. That is a cheery sentiment that the vivacious Patrick would probably find worthy of its own toast.
Patrick is proof that even in the face of great personal adversity and immense social trial there are those better angels among us – and within us.
Jeff Brazil is a Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist and writer based in Southern California who is working on a popular history book rooted in medieval Europe.
