Born into a well-to-do Roman British family and then kidnapped into six grueling years of slavery in Ireland, St. Patrick faced the choice that oppression gives each of us: Will we become bitter and retaliatory, or discover the grateful impetus at the core of even our worst suffering? When we look at the course of St. Patrick's life, his response is crystal clear. St. Patrick became one of the first people in history to speak out against slavery. Furthermore, in a voice uncharacteristic of the Christianity of his time, he praised women's courage: "It is the women kept in slavery who suffer the most — and who keep their spirits up despite the menacing and terrorizing they must endure. The Lord gives grace to his many handmaids; and though they are forbidden to do so, they follow him with backbone." He inspires us to reaffirm the human rights and dignity of all people, within and beyond our borders.
-- Patricia Carlson

“Christ be with me,
Christ before me,
Christ behind me....
Christ in the heart
of everyone who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth
of everyone who speaks of me,
Christ in every eye that sees me,
Christ in ever ear that hears me."

Thanks to the Irish diaspora, the feast of St. Patrick is widely celebrated in many parts of the world. Admittedly, this celebration is more often an occasion for national pride than for reflection on the cause to which the saint dedicated his life. Ironically, St. Patrick is much better known for his apocryphal achievement -- having rid the Emerald Isle of snakes -- than for his actual accomplishments as a missionary. But even his great achievement, having established the Christian church in Ireland, tends to overshadow some of the more personal and poignant aspects of his life.

Patrick's mission to Ireland and its successful outcome is justly celebrated. But it is often forgotten that Patrick's first introduction to Ireland was involuntary. At the age of sixteen he was kidnapped by Irish raiders, stolen from his home, a village somewhere along the western coast of Roman Britain, and taken to Ireland as a slave. Previously he had lived a relatively comfortable life as the son of a petty Roman official. This violent change in his life, as may well be supposed, was a shocking experience. He found himself sold to a local king who employed him in a variety of menial occupations, such as herding livestock on the desolate mountains of the north. As a slave, his life was not valued more highly than the beasts he tended. As he later wrote, "I was chastened exceedingly and humbled every day in hunger and nakedness."

At the same time, far from home and with little prospect of ever seeing his family again, he remembered who he was and where he came from. In particular, he clung fast to his faith as a Christian. Whereas previously he had been relatively indifferent in his faith, now he liked to spend his long days among the flocks reciting endlessly the prayers impressed upon his memory since childhood. All the while he dreamed of escape. Eventually, after six years of captivity, an opportunity arose and he seized it. His flight involved a risky journey of two hundred miles across the sea, where he found a place on a boat sailing for the Continent. Thus, eventually, after many further adventures, he made his way back to his home village.

The scene of his family reunion can scarcely be imagined. But the young man who had now returned from the dead was no longer the carefree adolescent of before. He bore the scars of his terrible ordeal, but also the zeal of a profound faith. In the light of this faith he was convinced that both his sufferings and his deliverance had been ordained for some divine purpose.

It was some years hence that this purpose became plain. While living in Gaul, where he had traveled to study for the priesthood, he had a series of dreams in which Irish voices, the voices of those who had stolen his youth, cried out to him, "We beseech thee to come and walk once more among us." At first his superiors resisted the idea of his return to Ireland, judging among other things that he lacked the learning and skills for such a dangerous mission. But he overcame their objections, and so in 432, by this time a consecrated bishop, he returned to the island from which providence had once aided his escape.

Patrick's thirty years as a wandering bishop in Ireland are wrapped in legend, but the scope of his achievements is a matter of historical record. Within ten years he had established the primatial see of Armagh and a network of churches and monasteries throughout the country, all in the hands of a native clergy. He personally baptized tens of thousands of the faithful and ordained hundreds of priests. Although he was not alone in his work of evangelization, his stature as a patron of Ireland is well deserved.

But in a land that had been rent asunder by the memory of ancient crimes and injustices, it should be remembered that St. Patrick was himself the victim of Irish injustice before he ever became the symbol of Irish pride. His extraordinary return to the site of his oppression -- not to wreak his vengeance, but to implant reconciling seeds of his own hard-won faith -- deserves appropriate commemoration. The gospel drove Patrick to return to his oppressors that he might devote his life to their peaceful conversion and the cause of their salvation. But the spiritual conquest of Ireland followed the prior victory of love over anger and bitterness in his own heart. If the memory of this dimension of St. Patrick's life had long ago become a feature of his feast day celebration, it might be truly said that there are no serpents left in Ireland.

Additional Resources
See: Maisie Ward, Saints Who Made History (New York: Sheed & Ward, 1959); The Confession of St. Patrick (New York: Triumph, 1996).