What message might Saint Patrick have for our own times? What can each of us do, to foster faith in Christ, in today’s Ireland and beyond?
Amaziah said to Amos, "O seer, go, flee away to the land of Judah, earn your bread there, and prophesy there; but never again prophesy at Bethel, for it is the king’s sanctuary, and it is a temple of the kingdom." Then Amos answered Amaziah, "I am no prophet, nor a prophet’s son; but I am a herdsman, and a dresser of sycamore trees, and the Lord took me from following the flock, and the Lord said to me, ‘Go, prophesy to my people Israel.’
How can I repay the Lord
for his goodness to me?
The cup of salvation I will raise;
I will call on the Lord’s name. (R./)
O precious in the eyes of the Lord
is the death of his faithful.
Your servant, Lord, your servant am I;
you have loosed my bonds. (R./)
My vows to the Lord I will fulfil
before all his people.
O precious in the eyes of the Lord
is the death of his faithful. (R./)
My vows to the Lord I will fulfil
before all his people,
in the courts of the house of the Lord,
in your midst, O Jerusalem. (R./)
You know, my brothers and sisters, that our coming to you was not in vain, but though we had already suffered and been shamefully mistreated at Philippi, as you know, we had courage in our God to declare to you the gospel of God in spite of great opposition. For our appeal does not spring from deceit or impure motives or trickery, but just as we have been approved by God to be entrusted with the message of the gospel, even so we speak, not to please mortals, but to please God who tests our hearts. As you know and as God is our witness, we never came with words of flattery or with a pretext for greed; nor did we seek praise from mortals, whether from you or from others, though we might have made demands as apostles of Christ. But we were gentle among you, like a nurse tenderly caring for her own children. So deeply do we care for you that we are determined to share with you not only the gospel of God but also our own selves, because you have become very dear to us.
As Jesus was standing beside the lake of Gennesaret, and the crowd was pressing in on him to hear the word of God, he saw two boats there at the shore of the lake; the fishermen had gone out of them and were washing their nets. He got into one of the boats, the one belonging to Simon, and asked him to put out a little way from the shore. Then he sat down and taught the crowds from the boat.
When he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, "Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch." Simon answered, "Master, we have worked all night long but have caught nothing. Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets." When they had done this, they caught so many fish that their nets were beginning to break. So they signaled their partners in the other boat to come and help them. And they came and filled both boats, so that they began to sink. But when Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus" knees, saying, "Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!" For he and all who were with him were amazed at the catch of fish that they had taken; and so also were James and John, sons of Zebedee, who were partners with Simon. Then Jesus said to Simon, "Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people." When they had brought their boats to shore, they left everything and followed him.
(Alternative Readings for today
1st Reading: Sirach 39:6-10
Filled with the spirit of understanding
If the great Lord is willing, he will be filled with the spirit of understanding; he will pour forth words of wisdom of his own and give thanks to the Lord in prayer. The Lord will direct his counsel and knowledge, as he meditates on his mysteries.
He will show the wisdom of what he has learned, and will glory in the law of the Lord’s covenant. Many will praise his understanding; it will never be blotted out.His memory will not disappear, and his name will live through all generations.
Nations will speak of his wisdom, and the congregation will proclaim his praise.
2nd Reading: 2 Timothy 4:1-8
I have fought the good fight
In the presence of God and of Christ Jesus, who is to judge the living and the dead, and in view of his appearing and his kingdom, I solemnly urge you: proclaim the message; be persistent whether the time is favourable or unfavourable; convince, rebuke, and encourage, with the utmost patience in teaching. For the time is coming when people will not put up with sound doctrine, but having itching ears, they will accumulate for themselves teachers to suit their own desires, and will turn away from listening to the truth and wander away to myths. As for you, always be sober, endure suffering, do the work of an evangelist, carry out your ministry fully.
As for me, I am already being poured out as a libation, and the time of my departure has come. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. From now on there is reserved for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will give me on that day, and not only to me but also to all who have longed for his appearing.
Gospel: Matthew 13:24-32
Growing together until the harvest
Jesus put before them another parable: "The kingdom of heaven may be compared to someone who sowed good seed in his field; but while everybody was asleep, an enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat, and then went away. So when the plants came up and bore grain, then the weeds appeared as well. And the slaves of the householder came and said to him, ‘Master, did you not sow good seed in your field? Where, then, did these weeds come from?’ He answered, ‘An enemy has done this.’ The slaves said to him, ‘Then do you want us to go and gather them?’ But he replied, ‘No; for in gathering the weeds you would uproot the wheat along with them. Let both of them grow together until the harvest; and at harvest time I will tell the reapers, Collect the weeds first and bind them in bundles to be burned, but gather the wheat into my barn.'"
He put before them another parable: "The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed that someone took and sowed in his field; it is the smallest of all the seeds, but when it has grown it is the greatest of shrubs and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and make nests in its branches."
In Saint Patrick’s autobiography: he says of himself
"I, Patrick, a sinner, a most simple countryman, the least of all the faithful and most contemptible to many, had as my father the deacon Calpurnius, son of the late Potitus, a priest, of the town of Bannavem Taburniae. We had a small villa nearby where I was taken captive. I was at that time about sixteen years of age. I did not really know the true God when I was taken into captivity in Ireland with many thousands of people. Indeed we deserved it, for we had drawn away from God, we did not keep his precepts, nor heeded our priests who reminded us of our salvation. And the Lord brought down wrath on us and scattered us among many nations, even to the ends of the earth, where I, in my smallness, am now living among foreigners. Here the Lord opened my mind to repent my unbelief, so that, even at this late stage I might turn with all my heart to the Lord my God, who … pitied my youth and ignorance. And he watched over me before I knew him, …and he protected me, and consoled me as a father would his son."
As a captive slave in Ireland, Patricius (Patrick), found himself in dire straits. He was homesick and miserable, a wretched slave, forced to herd animals on a cold mountainside in Antrim. His situation gave him plenty of time to contemplate the world of nature, and somehow it was there that he first encountered God personally.
Granted, his father was a deacon and his grandfather a priest, but as a youth Patrick had not cared for religion or faith while enjoying his Roman priveleges in Britain. Only after his life was turned upside down by those Irish slave-raiders did he find a new spiritual feeling. Something about the land and scenery of Ireland induced a more reflective spirit in this enslaved young man. For him, nature became alive with the presence of God. Maybe it was the the awesome beauty of the coastline, or the turning of the seasons. For whatever reason, he admired the beauty around him, and found that God was very near.
One day he felt the call of Jesus Christ (like Peter, Andrew and the others) to commit himself to sharing Christ’s vision of life with others. He too became a fisher of men, and women, among the people of Ireland. As he admits in his Confessions, he did it very successfully, to his own amazement. For despite calling himself a sinner, without learning, a stone lying in the mud, the God of mercy “raised up that stone, and set it on the very top of the wall.” Patrick could easily apply to himself the words of Amos: The Lord said to me, ‘Go, prophesy to my people Israel.’
In Patrick’s case, it was a mission to return to the land where he had been taken as a slave, to bring the men and women of Ireland to the glorious liberty of the children of God (Rom. 8:21). The Confessions have many echoes of St Paul’s writings, for Patrick clearly admired the great apostle from Tarsus. Not least, Patrick’s zealous pastoral care for the Irish people mirrors how Paul worked among the Christians of Thessalonica. His refusal to accept gifts of gold and silver from his converts imitated St. Paul’s reluctance to make financial profit from preaching the Gospel. Also, his love for his converts made Patrick vow to stay on in Ireland for the rest of his life. How well he followed the example of Paul: “we were gentle among you, like a nurse tenderly caring for her own children. So deeply do we care for you that we are determined to share with you not only the gospel of God but also our own selves, because you have become very dear to us.”
His famous Celtic prayer, the Loricum or St Patrick’s Breastplate, includes this appeal for constant union with Christ:
“Christ be with me,
Christ surround me,
Christ be in my speaking,
Christ be in my thinking,
Christ be in my sleeping,
Christ be in my waking,
. . . Christ be in my ever-living soul, Christ be my eternity.”
As Patrick prayed for the Irish people on the mountain in Mayo which bears his name (Cruach Padraig), let’s pray for each other on his feast-day:
“May you recognize in your life the presence, the power and the light of Christ. May you realize that you are never alone, for He is always with you; that your living soul connects you with the rhythm of the universe. And may the road rise up to meet you and the wind be always at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face, and the rain fall soft upon your fields. And, until we meet again, may God hold you in the palm of His hand.”
In spite of his humble introduction of himself, the style of the Confessio is not that of an ignorant man. He knew the Scriptures and of the Church Fathers and some Roman literature. Patrick’s writing resembles in style the much longer Confession of St Augustine. Both were skilled pastoral theologians with a faith centred on Christ.
Patrick’s theology came from his personal experience of Christ and his sense of mission to Ireland. Faith is not a knowledge about Christ but a life with Christ. It was not simply book learning about Christianity; it was an awareness of the presence of Christ and a lived response to that presence. Faith was an awareness of the presence of God at every moment. Starved of reliance on family and friends, Patrick discovered he was not alone. His sense of the presence and providence of God became the foundation of all that he did. It gave him a firm sense of his own worth as loved by God, which he shared with others.
Patrick appreciated the worth of each human being. His Confession invites us to join him in personal conversion. His message was to draw people as followers of Christ as a generous and sharing community. This mission is still an urgent one for our own times. Even in our prosperous society, the mantra of limited resources is used to hide the unequal provision of health care, education and employment. Our society is coarsened by injustice as much as by violence and murder. It is time to revive Patrick’s vision of the value of the individual, and let each one have their fair share in the blessings of our land.
1. Night after night on the cold hillside he watched over the sheep, wakeful while they slept, and among those misty green valleys his thoughts took on a serious cast. Son of a deacon and grandson of a priest, he had paid no attention to religion. The shock of being yanked from his home by pirates at sixteen and made a slave in this mysterious green land had created an inexplicable turmoil in his heart, and now amid the silence of the damp hills a quite new thought was forming, a sense of being protected by a gracious presence.
He would weep, not from homesickness but — what was it? — repentance? For what? For slighting a precious gift that these strange pagans knew nothing of, the story of Christ and the holiness of His sacraments.
As the language become easier for him he began to murmur to his fellows the name of Christ, and to teach them Latin using the few prayers he knew. It was astonishing how eagerly they devoured this lore, as if recognizing in it some long-expected divine spark. The name of Rome and the name of Christ held a magic for them, as signals from a world beyond the familiar rites of their fields.
It pained him that he could explain so little of the faith that began to glow ever more warmly in his own heart. He pieced together his scanty catechism: a good God, creator of everything, angry at sin, yet sending his Son to die for our sins and ascend gloriously into Heaven; a Holy Ghost coming down in tongues of fire; a Last Judgement to cast down the proud and exalt the lowly.
Put into the new language, this took on a fresh power, seeming to rise in his own mind and those of his companions as a mighty tide.
2. Back home, he was dogged by a sense of something missing. Could it be those damp hills, those green valleys? They had become, in his six years of captivity, the very landscape of his soul. Was he missing the boisterous drinking companionship with the pagans? But what was he to them or they to him? Wasn’t he lucky to escape back to freedom and civilization? Still something pressed obscurely on his heart, and it came to bursting point in a haunting dream: “a man seemed to come from Hibernia and gave me a letter headed ‘the Voice of the Irish.’ I trembled on reading that inscription, and then a multitudinous murmur flooded my mind, voices from the wood by the Western sea: ‘We implore you, holy youth, come and walk among us again. We implore you…'”
His parents’ shock when he said “I want to go back to Ireland” was allayed when he spoke of the need first to study in Europe.
3. Patrick looked out on the huge crowd gathered for Easter on the hill of Slane, humbled at their goodness and faith and cheered as always by their merriment. The years of study had given him the words and ideas he needed to explain the Faith to them in all its majesty and to lay firm foundations for this new people of God. He had chosen from what was taught in Auxerre and Lérins only what he knew would nourish their minds and touch their hearts: not the complex controversies about the homoousios and the soul of Christ and the procession of the Holy Ghost, but the simple essence of these doctrines: the living God, one in three and three in one, and the blessed Saviour, born of Mary, atoning for Sin, risen to new life.
He learned more from the Epistles of the Apostle Paul, the supreme missionary, meditated on day in and day out, than from any of the professors. Once or twice among the thronging Mediterranean peoples in the great port of Marseille he would thrill to the sound of a never-forgotten language, the voice of the Irish. Joyfully embracing the seafarers, he reanchored his thought in a vivid perception of their need. Greeks, and Libyans, and Spaniards suddenly seemed old and decadent beside the Irish, with their open countenances and their sharp minds, fresh and bracing as the dawn. They spoke his language and he theirs.
His return to Ireland, armed with flawless doctrine and papal backing, but still a stranger like the scared boy of so long before, was a moment of risk and blind trust. But everything had gone so well! His life’s labours, his controversies worthy of St Paul, had exhausted him, but he could lay down the staff without any misgivings, for the Faith had taken hold, the carefully selected seed had borne fruit a hundredfold or a thousandfold, and the Irish had developed their own ways of spreading the story of Christ to future generations and to foreign lands. (Fr Joseph O’Leary, Sophia University, Tokyo)
Inniú, ar féile ár n’Aspail náisiúnta, Naomh Pádraig, ba chóir machtnamh a dhéanamh ar a shaol agus ar na súáilce a mhúin sé d’ár mhuintir in Éirinn fadó. Féachaimís cúpla smaointe, tógtha díreach ó’na scríbhínn álainn féin, as an bFhaoistín. Gan an téacs go léir a léamh, tá sé ar fáil go hiomlán ar an idirlín. Seo dhaoibh chuid de na ráiteasa is súntasaí liomsa. Tosnaíonn Pádraig go húmhal, ag léiriú a chuid laige morálta, mar óganach:
“Mise Pádraig, peacach ró-thuatach, an té is lú de na fíréin go léir.’ Is cosuil gur fhás sé suas i dteaghlach Críostaí, ach níor chuir mór-chuid suim ar dteagasg fuair ó’na thuismetheoirí: B’é Calpornius, deochan, m’athair. Mac do Photitus, sagart, ab ea é, ó bhaile Bannavem Taburniae (san Bhreatain Beag). “Bhí mé tuairim sé bliana déag d’aois agus níorbh aithnid dom an fíor-Dhia nuair a tugadh i mbraighdeanas mé go hÉirinn in éineacht le mílte daoine eile. Sin rud abhí tuillte againn de bhrí gur thugamar cúl le Dhia agus nár choinníomar a haitheanta.” “Más lochtach féin mé ar a lán bealach, is mian liom fios a bheith ag mo bhráithre agus ag mo ghaolta cén saghas duine mé, le go mbeidh Sé ar a gcumas dúil m’anama a thuiscint.”