Saint Paddy Was A Baddy

Who was the real Saint Patrick?

March seventeenth is nigh, which means that St. Paddy’s Day is upon us. But who is this

venerable saint that we lavish with such celebration? A day filled with shamrocks and

leprechauns and pots of gold and green and more green and everywhere green. A day where the City of Chicago courses a green racing stripe through the city and they fill the river with green dye. A day where we listen to Irish pub and Celtic music and fill our bellies with green beer. All of which to commemorate the memory of St. Patrick the legendary missionary to Ireland. But who was the real St. Paddy?

Did Patrick really perform miracles? Did he remove poison that someone had slipped into his beer simply by blessing the pitcher, while not losing any of his beer? Did he really teach the Irish people about the Trinity from the shamrock? Did he really cast all the snakes out of Ireland? Did his staff really grow into a tree? I don’t know about any of the miracles, but this is one case where reality is actually cooler than the legend. It should also be noted that the man was so legendary in reality that it inspired such accounts of miracles.

Stephan Manfield says of Patrick that,

“He was a man’s man. He lived a rugged life, evangelized Ireland with beer and miracles, and eventually fought the raging enemy that comes for us all in the night.” (Mansfield Book of Manly Men, 175).

One author even claimed that Patrick and the Ireland that he helped to form saved civilization. With Patrick, sometimes it’s hard to sift between myth and reality. However, of one thing we can be totally certain, St. Paddy was a total baddy. Perhaps there is no greater illustration of this than in St. Patrick’s breastplate which is prayer for protection that was often written on the shields of soldiers and knights:

“Christ with me,

Christ before me,

Christ behind me,

Christ in me,

Christ beneath me,

Christ above me,

Christ on my right,

Christ on my left,

Christ when I lie down,

Christ when I sit down,

Christ when I arise,

Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,

Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me,

Christ in every eye that sees me,

Christ in every ear that hears me.”

Patrick was born in 385 in the modern day town of Dumbarton Scotland to believing parents. His father was a deacon, and his grandfather was a priest, however, in his youth Patrick seemingly had no interest in the Christian faith. Patrick doesn’t tell us much about his youth, however, it is easy to suspect that he wasn’t much different than a lot of teenage boys, rebellious and trying to find out where they fit in this world. However, we do know that at the age of sixteen, while playing by the sea he was taken captive by pirates and brought 200 miles inland and sold as a shepherd and farm laborer to a tribal king. At this point the vast majority of Ireland was pagan and unconverted.

As a slave, Patrick would become well acquainted with hardship. He would spend six years in captivity and would come to know loneliness and sorrow, hunger and nakedness and great adversity as he was forced to take care of his master’s flock. Like many of us, Patrick needed to hit the bricks and be emptied of himself in order to be filled with Christ. He writes of this in his Confession,

“I was sixteen years old and knew not the true God and was carried away captive; but in that strange land the Lord opened my unbelieving eyes, and although late I called my sins to mind, and was converted with my whole heart to the Lord my God, who regarded my low estate, had pity on my youth and ignorance, and consoled me as a father consoles his children. Every day I used to look after sheep and I used to pray often during the day, the love of God and a holy fear of Him increased more and more in me. My faith began to grow and my spirit was ardently stirred. Often, I would pray as many as a hundred times in a single day — and nearly as many at night. Even when I was staying out in the woods or on the mountain, I would rise before dawn for prayer, in snow and frost and rain. I felt no ill effect and there was no slackness in me. As I now realize, it was because the Spirit was maturing and preparing me for a work yet to come.”

After six years in captivity, Patrick was given a vision of a way to escape. He then makes a

break for it, traveling 200 miles back to the coast where he finds a ship waiting. He then travels home and is reunited with his family. His parents rejoiced to have their son back and were elated at his salvation. Back home he would become a priest, however, it wouldn’t be long before he felt a burden to reach the very people who enslaved him with the gospel. Patrick, now focused, had the small goal of converting all of Ireland. The amazing thing is, he pretty much did that.

He returned to Ireland, preaching the gospel to the pagan tribes that enslaved him in their own language that he learned while he was a slave. One of the amazing parts of the story, that is extra awesome because it makes Baptists blush is that Patrick had his own personal brewmaster that would travel with him named Mescan. When the tribal chieftains saw that Patrick was not only a superior man who lived a superior life, but also that he had superior beer, it seemed to be all the confirmation they needed that everything he was saying was true.

Eventually Patrick was able to baptize the king with much of Ireland following suit. As a result of his missionary work, and superior beer, Ireland saw much cultural and civil transformation, again, leaving Baptists dumbfounded and blushing, but it was ok because they didn’t use the term Christian Nationalism.

Patrick constantly overcame opposition and stayed on mission. One would think that the greatest struggles he faced came from battling for the souls of the Irish people, but it actually came from his church back home. Wherever Christ is at work there is always a saboteur close behind, and this was the case with Patrick. Gossip and rumors and controversy were fueled by envious and petty people in the church and in leadership. Patrick overcame not just opposition to the gospel without but also within. He overcame constant distractions, and fear and bitterness. Patrick was a man’s man who stayed on mission.

Although all the legends and myths surrounding Patrick are pretty awesome, the reality is even more awesome. The real St. Patrick was a total badass completely committed to the Lord. Going back to share the gospel with the very people that enslaved you takes a set manhood the size of coconuts. But what is even more impressive to me is that he was ultimately not deterred or embittered by all of the envy and jealously and garbage that he faced within the church.

So as St. Paddy’s Day approaches make sure to go share the gospel and make like Elizabeth Warren and have yourself beer, or perhaps two with some good Christian company, but make sure it’s a good one that would make Mescan proud, which definitely rules out Bud Light.