St. Patrick

I’m thinking today of St. Patrick and those holy days in July when we were on pilgrimage in Ireland.

The stained glass window above is in Saul Church, the site of Patrick’s first church. It is the only depiction we saw with Patrick clothed in blue rather than the green we know today.

I wrote this reflection there in that holy place.

St. Patrick, I thought I knew you, the saint of stained glass and mitres, of shamrocks and crosiers.

Today we celebrate your feast day with parades and green beer. But the color of your adopted country is blue. And the old ones took your feast day as a time for abstinence and prayer.

Let me see past the 21st-century Patrick to the Patrick of 432, the man called to return to his place of bondage and bring the word of love.

Let me reclaim your remembrance as a holy time, an opportunity for service to the poor, the hungry, the enslaved. For you once were poor, hungry, and enslaved. Let me reclaim your remembrance with gratitude and humility.

Pray for me. Pray for us, Patrick.

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