Patrick
self-consciousness and sainthood
Dear friends,
A Bostonian once asked me if I’d ever spent St Patrick’s Day in Boston. When I said I hadn’t, she answered: “Then you’re not Irish.” Incorrect as she was, I loved the audacity.
Anyway, let’s talk about St. Patrick today, not Boston. There are many things attributed to him (snakes etc.), although many of them aren’t true. He was probably among a number of people to bring that early Christian faith to Ireland, but it’s to him that the story of conversion is credited.
He was from a town — probably in Britain — named Bannavem Taburniae and was kidnapped by Irish pirates who took him to Ireland and kept him as a labouring prisoner for a number of years. It was during this time that his pluck showed: learning the language, navigating an escape, building on a nascent faith that would nurture his strength, preserving his imagination in a way that preserved him. After his escape, he was compelled — in dreams — to return to Ireland, and, after training as a priest, he did, staying there for generations. He probably (there’s debate about this) died around the year 497.
Among the few documents attributed to him is his Confessio. The opening paragraph of which is here:
My name is Patrick. I am a sinner, a simple country person, and the least of all believers. I am looked down upon by many. My father was Calpornius. He was a deacon; his father was Potitus, a priest, who lived at Bannavem Taburniae. His home was near there, and that is where I was taken prisoner. I was about sixteen at the time. At that time, I did not know the true God. I was taken into captivity in Ireland, along with thousands of others. We deserved this, because we had gone away from God, and did not keep his commandments. We would not listen to our priests, who advised us about how we could be saved. The Lord brought his strong anger upon us, and scattered us among many nations even to the ends of the earth. It was among foreigners that it was seen how little I was.
Many of Patrick’s themes, which you could almost call obsessions, are evident in this opening paragraph — his connection to his family; his devotion; his persistent attribution of causality (“We deserved this, because we had gone away from God”) — and they’re repeated throughout the text of this short declaration of faith. However, it is his self-consciousness that always moves me: “I am a sinner, a simple country person, and the least of all believers, I am looked down upon by many …. how little I was.”.
A kidnapped foreigner with only pluck, dreams, and imagination to help him. That he has become known as an Irish saint is evidence of his strength. That his confession is so riddled with self-consciousness shows something compelling about him, alongside sagacity and agency . He was — “along with thousands of others” — taken into indentured servitude.
For me, the benefit of his story is that, as the relations between Britain and Ireland unfold — over centuries, colonialisms, suppression of the Irish language — he stands as a beacon of curiosity, commitment, and courage. There have been terrible things done through British expansionism, but Patrick was kidnapped to Ireland before that had begun proper. His escape was long dreamed of and yet, even when he managed to depart, he felt compelled to return. There’s a story of exchange and generosity that challenges other stories.
The full confessio is worthwhile reading in its entirety. I don’t share his certitude about God or angels or causation or divine intervention, but I am moved that he found the strength he needed at a time when he needed it by turning to prayer during his early captivity: “in one day I would pray up to one hundred times …” At the time of writing his confessio, he’s still a mix of pluck and self-destruction, just like many of us, referring to himself in the closing paragraphs as “Patrick, a sinner without learning, wrote in Ireland.”
Years ago, a friend who had been failed by a schooling system sat an exam in his 40s. He looked at the choice of essays and realised he could answer any of them. He only had to answer three out of seven to achieve a perfect score, but he left having answered none because he was unused to being in a situation where success was guaranteed. His observant teacher noticed his departure and supported him to return to his exam — which he passed with flying colours. Many of us who learnt lessons of inadequacy early in life are unprepared to live with potential, constantly undermining ourselves, like the Patron Saint of Ireland did, that man “without learning” (whose learning was far richer than he declared).
Patrick lived through terrible times (the ship he managed to escape on was wrecked), and — presumably in a way that maintained his self-consciousness or judgement — grounded himself in a system that worked: one hundred prayers a day.
This is my prompt to you: What practical processes ground you in terrible times, friends? And what can you to do exorcise old and failing stories about yourself?
I’ll see you in the comments.
Poetry in the World
A list of events: Online and in Australia (Melbourne, Queenscliff, Sydney), Ireland (Cork, Dublin, Listowel), and the US (Indianapolis, Memphis, Seattle)
April 3, Seattle, Washington, US, and online
I’ll be giving an evening talk at Saint Mark’s Episcopal Cathedral. Registration is needed, and you can find information here.
April 7, Indianapolis, Indiana, US
I’ll be at Butler University as part of its visiting writers series. No need to register, and you can find the details here.
April 10 & 11, Memphis, Tennessee, US, and online
I’ll be back at Calvary Episcopal Church for two events: an evening interview on the first day and a midday sermon on the second day (the sermon will also be live-streamed). Both events are free to attend, and you can find details here.
April 26–27, Melbourne, Australia
I’m giving a two-day retreat on “Poems on Being with Each Other,” with the Small Giants Academy lovelies. Registration here.
May 2–4, Queenscliff, Victoria, Australia
I’ll be speaking at the delicious sacrededge festival. More info here.
May 7, Sydney, Australia
The marvelous Miriam of Poetica is organising a poetry reading in the evening. Get tickets here.
May 8, Sydney, Australia
I’ll be speaking in the morning at the Welcoming Cities Symposium. Registration here.
May 8–11, Melbourne, Australia
I’ll be speaking on the Saturday (May 10) of the Melbourne Writers Festival. Festival info here.
May 13–17, Cork, Ireland
I’ll be reading and conducting an interview at the Cork International Poetry Festival. Details here.
May 20, Dublin, Ireland
I’ll be reading at the International Literature Festival Dublin (ILFD). Information here.
May 29, Listowel, County Kerry, Ireland
I’ll be reading at Listowel Writers’ Week. Information here.
“Many of us who learnt lessons of inadequacy early in life are unprepared to live with potential, constantly undermining ourselves” - it’s heartbreaking to see the damage such lessons can cause. Kindness and compassion for ourselves is a good place to start the repair process, as well as building our belief that we are enough (and more…), despite what the stories in our heads might tell us. And believing that, like all stories, they can be rewritten…
Cleaning, whether dishes or clothes, brings me into the present moment and helps remove the fear and pain caused by a cruel world. Walking outside does as well There is something about moving g the body the quiets the worrying mind.