St. Patrick and Celtic Spirituality

Today,of course, is the day the Church celebrates the life of one of its most famous saints.  St. Patrick, the patron saint of Ireland, is, more than any other person, responsible for the development of Irish Christianity and the rise of a unique Celtic strain of Christian spirituality.

St. Patrick’s Day is also, and perhaps more familiar as, a cultural holiday bordering on an institution.  Irish culture is freely appropriated, and people all over the world become “more Oirish than the Irish” in a festival of Irish food, drink, kitsch, drink, music, and, well, drink.

According to my mother, I have a very tiny stream of Irish blood, though certainly nothing to speak of–not enough for me to claim to speak authentically for the Irish. And as much as I love all things Irish, I’m hesitant to add to the cultural pillaging that tends to characterize St. Patrick’s Day.

But there is a Celtic approach spirituality, and even at the risk of using Irish history and culture for my own ends, I’d like to present one of the most famous works of Celtic spirituality, the Lorica, or Breastplate of St. Patrick.

Much has been written elsewhere about the life of St. Patrick: his enslavement in Ireland and eventual escape, his ordination to holy orders and miraculous call back to the land of his slavery, and the incredible works he did in bringing Christianity to the Irish Celts.  You can read such histories here, here, and here, and there is no need for me to elaborate further.

Rock of Cashel - Irish holy site

Moving past the historical life of the saint, the Lorica—most likely not written by St. Patrick himself but probably written by one of his disciples—beautiful presents a poetic prayer that captures the essence of Celtic spirituality.  This prayer for God’s presence and protection recognizes the reality of the spirit world and the close connection between the spiritual and the material.  For the ancient Celts, every rock, every tree, every blade of grass hummed with Spiritual Presence.  God was readily found in nature, not separated from it, but infusing it with life and grace, and the Lorica speaks to a world in which God is with us and all around us.

Moreover, the Lorica also readily accepts and even delights in the mystery of who God is, embracing the Trinity as simply as the three-leafed shamrock.  The spirit world, though as close as rain on the skin, was nevertheless powerful and mysterious, dangerous even, and the Lorica is a sobering reminder of the need for God to keep walking with us through this world, and an unshakeable belief that God would do so.

In that spirit, I bid you Lá Fhéile Pádraig Shona, Happy St. Patrick’s Day, and trust this prayer will be meaningful to you.  Below the text of the prayer, please also enjoy a luminous musical adaptation, set among Ireland’s lush countryside and monuments to its spiritual history.  Peace be with you.

The Lorica of St. Patrick
I arise today
Through a mighty strength,
the invocation of the Trinity,
Through belief in the threeness,
Through confession of the oneness
Of the Creator of Creation.

I arise today
Through the strength of
Christ’s birth with His baptism,
Through the strength of
His crucifixion with His burial,
Through the strength of
His resurrection with His ascension,
Through the strength of
His descent for the judgment of Doom.

I arise today
Through the strength of
the love of the Cherubim,
In the obedience of angels,
In the service of archangels,
In the hope of the resurrection
to meet with reward,
In the prayers of patriarchs,
In prediction of prophets,
In preaching of apostles,
In faith of confessors,
In innocence of holy virgins,
In deeds of righteous men.

I arise today
Through the strength of heaven;
Light of sun,
Radiance of moon,
Splendor of fire,
Speed of lightning,
Swiftness of wind,
Depth of sea,
Stability of earth,
Firmness of rock.

I arise today
Through God’s strength to pilot me:
God’s might to uphold me,
God’s wisdom to guide me,
God’s eye to look before me,
God’s ear to hear me,
God’s word to speak to me,
God’s hand to guard me,
God’s way to lie before me,
God’s shield to protect me,
God’s host to save me,

From snares of devils,
From temptation of vices,
From every one who shall wish me ill,
Afar and anear,
Alone and in a multitude.
I summon today all these powers
between me and those evils,

Against every cruel merciless
power that may oppose my body
and soul,
Against incantations of false prophets,
Against black laws of pagandom,
Against false laws of heretics,
Against craft of idolatry,
Against spells of women and
smiths and wizards,
Against every knowledge
that corrupts man’s body and soul.

Christ to shield me today
Against poising, against burning,
Against drowning, against wounding,
So there come to me
abundance of reward.
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
every one who speaks of me,
Christ in the eye of
every one who sees me,
Christ in every ear
that hears me.

I arise today
Through a mighty strength,
the invocation of the Trinity,
Through belief in the threeness,
Through confession of the oneness
Of the Creator of Creation.

The Time Between Times

The ancient Celtic peoples, from what we know of them, made little distinction between the natural and the spiritual worlds.  Faeries, banshees, and gods were considered just as real, and just as likely to be present, as trees and animals and other human beings.  As part of this worldview, they were especially interested in the “times between times”: dusk, dawn, the beginning of spring and end of winter—any period of transition in the world.  These times between times were said to be especially meaningful, when the world between natural and spiritual was especially thin, and anything might happen.

This concept fascinates me.  I’ve always loved liminal places (places where the line between natural and spiritual seems thin and especially permeable): cathedrals, ancient ruins, etc.  But I have not given as much thought to liminal times.

Today, of course, marks the day (in the Gregorian calendar, anyway) we consider to be the first day of the New Year.  I have long considered New Year’s Eve and Day to be my favorite holiday, and I think this is so because I enjoy the sense of transition, that being present for the passage of time, observing the passing of the old and coming of the new.  I suppose that waiting for midnight on New Year’s Eve is a lot like being in the time between times, liminal time, watching the world change.

But the problem with New Year’s, like many things in our contemporary culture, is that is too scientific.  At 11:59:59 it is 2010, and then at 12:00:00 it is suddenly 2011.  There is not really much time between times; there is only one time, and then, all at once, another.  We have not given ourselves much breathing room to observe the transition.

And we do this with so many things.  One moment, one is a student, and then one hears one’s name read and receives a diploma, and then one is not a student any longer.  One walks into a church single, take vows, and then one is married.  The work day begins promptly at 8 and ends at 5, with an exactly 60 minute lunch.  We have everything so carefully measured, so exactly timed, that we do not even notice the changes.

But life, real life, where it matters, is not like that.  Organic things do not follow clocks.  There is no exact time when a child becomes an adult (laws about turning 18 and 21 notwithstanding).  Rather, there is a time between times, when one is both and neither.  We do not instantly go from day to night, but watch the sunset and the falling shadows of dusk.  Spring is already on the way before winter is fully over.  And because we can’t measure these things exactly, they are easy to miss.  We are in one time, and then we realize that we are in another time, and we don’t even remember making the transition.

And really, all of life is a time between times.  We are always transitioning from one thing to another, whether we realize it or not.  Usually, mired in our circumstances, we do not realize it.  But whatever is is already passing away, and whatever is coming is already coming.  If we stopped to be in the moment, to be mindful of where and when we are right now, we would realize that the moment is passing.  Whatever we are enjoying now will not last forever, and whatever we are suffering will not last forever either.  Change, impermanence, is the true nature of things.  We are always in the time between times.

And if one is a follower of Christ (and I am not assuming, dear reader that you are, and I certainly welcome your views whatever your spiritual or religious persuasion), the idea of living in the time between times is especially meaningful.  Some of us in the Christian world get very wrapped up in “end times,” while others of us point to the spirituality of now.  But both of these viewpoints have their truth, of course.  We are in the present, the now, and it is a time between times.  We are living between the time of Christ’s first and second comings.  He has been here and is still here in Spirit and his influence is still being felt and he is coming and is on his way.  We are between times.  We can take comfort and rejoice in the now, because it is passing away.  What is coming is already on its way.