The Real Story of St. Patrick by Christine Lindsay

Just like all holidays, St. Patrick's Day takes on some ridiculous forms of celebration from green beer to dressing up in silly clothes.

There are some fantastical legends about St. Patrick, such as him banishing all the snakes from Ireland. While it’s true there are no snakes there, it wasn’t the saint to the Irish who managed that. Ireland is like New Zealand, Hawaii, and Iceland in that regard--just no snakes.

There are certain truths though that we can rely on about St. Patrick, from some of his own writing, The 

Confession and A Letter to the Soldiers of Coroticus. It is true that Patrick was born around the year 389 and into a Christian family in Britain. His family were Romanized Britons and not nationals. His father Calpurnius was a magistrate and a deacon in the local church. 

Patrick was indeed kidnapped when he was around 12. 

He'd been out on his father's farm when Irish raiders captured him. He was taken to Ireland and sold as slave, spending the next 6 years as a sheep herder.

But like many of us, when bad things happen we often turn our sights toward God. It was while Patrick was a captive that his nominal Christian faith grew deeper. As a teen and a young man Patrick tried to shared his faith with his captors. Eventually Patrick did escape and made his way back to Britain to be reunited with his family. 

He was not a highly educated man, but did go to France and spent time as a monk in the Abby of Lerins in Gaul. One night Patrick dreamed that he heard a voice calling to him in the Irish language (Gaelic), “We beseech you, holy youth, to come and walk among us once more.”  

While Patrick was not the first missionary to Ireland, he did return to Ireland as a bishop in 432. For the next 30 years until his death, his preaching and baptisms strengthened the already growing church. Due to Patrick’s promotion of the ascetic life of worship, he boldly went into areas that were firmly pagan, teaching the Irish Druids how to worship the Creator instead of His creation.  

He died and was buried in Downpatrick in N. Ireland, and I have been to his grave. 

My aunt, me, and my daughter Lana 2006

Like many ancient cultures, Ireland has a rich oral tradition, and while there is nothing in Patrick’s writings to confirm this, he probably did use a simple shamrock to explain the Trinity. Tradition says that St. Patrick picked up a shamrock, which in the Irish Gaelic language means diminutive clover, and explained that this little piece of flora was one leaf and yet it was made up of three leaves. 

The shamrock helped the Irish, including me as an Irish child, to understand an amazing aspect to God’s person: God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit, the Three in One.

Click on this link Londonderry Dreaming to hear some toe-tapping Irish music.

Irish-born Christine Lindsay is the author of multi-award-winning Christian fiction. She is currently writing her eighth book. To celebrate St. Patrick's Day, why not read some of Christine's books set in Ireland or that feature an Irish hero, check our Londonderry Dreaming and Sofi's Bridge coming May 2016.

Londonderry Dreaming available as an ebook, and Sofi's Bridge coming out in ebook and print May 2016.

ST. PATRICK WOULD ROLL OVER IN HIS GRAVE

If St. Patrick were alive to see the shenanigans we get up to on his day, I’m sure he’d roll over in his grave.

Ugh. Shudder.  Yikes!!!

As a person who was born on the actual old sod, a true child of the Emerald Isle, I admit to having mixed feelings about St. Patrick’s Day. I’ve got the birth certificate to prove that I am authentically Irish—born in 1957 at the Jubilee Hospital in Belfast, N. Ireland. All right, all right, you can do the math. 

But today, I’m standing up. Might even get myself a placard and march around the streets. 

“I am Irish, hear me bellow! Something’s gotta give. We’ve gone too far.”

Now, I’m just as full of blarney when it comes to discussions on the myth of leprechauns—do they exist or do they not? 

Well, of course they exist. Any self-respecting Irishman will tell you so. When I was in grade two my teacher thoroughly insulted me. We were given a test, and one of the true or false questions was, “Does a Leprechaun bury his gold at the end of a rainbow?” 

I answered yes. 

Apparently in Canada the correct answer was, “No.” Because according to the Canadian Education system there is no such thing as a leprechaun.

I ran home after school and cried on my mother’s lap. Oh the shame of it all. To this day I’ve never forgotten.  

On the other hand...though...as a women of—shall we say mature years—I get a bit miffed when I see the ridiculous paraphernalia that certain large department stores carry to sell to unsuspecting Americans and Canadians. Really now!!! Since when did St. Patrick ever wear a bright green cowboy hat with a fringe of feathers? Or a baseball cap with fake hair growing out of the top? Or a green jester’s hat with accompanying bells?

That’s when this child of the old sod gets really riled up.  Green cowboy hats...of all the silly things.

Still, I’m all for green iced cupcakes, green candies, green sugar cookies, green pudding. But I have to say a very clear, “No thank you to the green beer”. 

I do get a bit misty over an old Irish ballad or two. And downright keen when it comes to leprechaun sightings.

But what has all of this to do with the actual saint...Patrick the missionary to Ireland?

Absolutely nothing. 

However, St. Patrick was a Christian. A darlin’ man who brought the gospel message to Ireland, don’t ye know. 

 
God bless him for that. He taught the Irish about the Trinity by showing them a shamrock—which is Gaelic for the word clover. Patrick took the three-leafed shamrock and pointed out that the Trinity is like this—three leaves in one. Like God, three in one. God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit.

Each St. Patrick’s Day, it is that truth that I reflect upon. 

Not Green food or drink. Not silly green hats. Not even green cupcakes, although I’ll not decline the offer to eat one, and wash it down with a nice cup of tea. 

But for now, God bless you all this St. Patrick’s Day. And here are the words from the saint himself, to inspire you.

Christ be with me,

Christ be within me,  

Christ be behind me, Christ be before me,

Christ be beside me, Christ to win me,

Christ to comfort me, Christ above me,

Christ in quiet, Christ in danger,

Christ in hearts of all who love me,

Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.

By St. Patrick, a 5^th Century Cleric.  

And if you're looking for a nice romantic yarn set in the Emerald Isle, well sure, I'd like to point out this charming tale that I wrote called LONDONDERRY DREAMING. 

Here's a wee minute-long jaunt in a Book Trailer to put you in the mood. And turn up your volume, be ready to tap your feet to a modern-day rendition of an old Irish tune.

LONDONDERRY DREAMING by Christine Lindsay

Acclaimed New York artist, Naomi Boyd, and music therapist, Keith Wilson, loved one another five years ago, until her grandfather with his influence over Naomi separated them. 

That root of bitterness keeps them apart until a letter from Keith’s grandmother, Ruth, draws Naomi to Londonderry to find she’s too late. Ruth has passed on. After the death of his beloved grandmother, Keith has also come to Londonderry only to open the door to his past…Naomi...beautiful as ever, the girl who broke his heart.

A mysterious painting in Ruth’s attic brings up questions about their grandparents’ entwined past and their own broken romance. But more comfortable with the unspoken languages of art and music, Naomi and Keith find it difficult to share their old hurts and true feelings.

Will the majestic coastline of Northern Ireland inspire them to speak the words to bring peace to their grandparents’ memory and to rekindle love?

CHRISTINE LINDSAY

You can find out more about Christine Lindsay's novels on her website www.christinelindsay.com

 

Christine Lindsay was born in Ireland, and is proud of the fact that she was once patted on the head by Prince Philip when she was a baby. 

Her great grandfather, and her grandfather—yes father and son—were both riveters on the building of the Titanic. Tongue in cheek, Christine states that as a family they accept no responsibility for the sinking of that great ship. 

It was stories of her ancestors who served in the British Cavalry in Colonial India that inspired her Multi-award-winning, historical series Twilight of the British Raj. Book 1 Shadowed in Silk, Book 2 Captured by Moonlight, and Christine is currently writing the final installment of that series called Veiled at Midnight to be released August 2014.

Londonderry Dreaming, Christine’s romance novella set in N. Ireland released Feb. 2014.

Aside from being a busy writer and speaker, Christine is also VP of Christian Authors’ Network. She makes her home in British Columbia, on the west coast of Canada with her husband and their grown up family. Her cat Scottie is chief editor on all Christine’s books. 

CONNECT WITH CHRISTINE:

Please drop by Christine’s website http://www.christinelindsay.com/ or follow her on Twitter and be her friend on Pinterest , Facebook  and  Goodreads

 

Patrick, Son of Ireland - by Stephen Lawhead - Book Review

Happy St. Patrick's Day to one and all! I know there are many who are descended from the Irish, some more recently than others of course - but here in New Zealand they say the proportion could be as high as 20% of the population. No matter where you are from, I am sure you have felt the influence of that Celtic people.

Today I'm going to review a book for you that is not the newest on the shelf. I went looking for its actual year of publication and the earliest one I found says 2003, though I had thought it was much older - in my memory, I read it as a teenager. But that appears to be a myth in my mind. Perhaps it is something in the ancientness of the story itself.

The novel follows the early life of Succat, the son of Welsh Romans, as he is kidnapped and enslaved in Ireland. Over many years of sheep-tending and hoping for an onion from the master's table, he develops a calm and deep character that, while certainly rough around the edges, is also highly appealing in a human sort of way.

We follow him as he escapes, travels through war zones to Italy, and becomes a person of importance in the Roman government. Of course, much of the details are conjecture, based on snippets of history delivered to us, and it is impressive that Mr. Lawhead has created an entire novel around it - and not a skinny one.

The one detail that we can be fairly sure of is that he took the name Patricius and felt called to return to Ireland. The impact of that journey can still be felt today across the whole world. I found this an enthralling read with true depth and grit - admittedly more grit than some people would probably like, as the life of a slave was not a pretty one. But over the years scenes from the story come back to me, complete before my mind's eye, no matter if I have read it recently or not. Now that's what I call good writing.