More than green beer

Not many of us Caldwellians claim Irish ancestry, only 5.5 percent in Lenoir by U.S. Census Bureau reports. Granite Falls and Hudson are higher with 7.2 and 7.1 percent respectively. Those numbers aren't high enough to warrant a St. Patrick's Day parade much to my dismay.

Some Irish genes are in my chromosomes; my mother's folks were mainly of Scotch-Irish descent. Even without that Irishness in the family tree, I think I would have grown to love St. Patrick anyway. His special day is one of my favorites.

I'm not saying that tomorrow will be a spiritual holiday (holy day). Far from it. One store display of St. Patrick's paraphernalia amounted to no more than decorative containers for holding huge amounts of beer and lewd party items. For some folks it's an excuse to drink, to party, or to decorate, having nothing to do with Christianity. That's become the accepted way of our holidays with Christian origins.

Even so, it's good that March 17 falls during a wearisome time for school children, the long winter wait until spring break. A fun day is well received where people wear green, pinch people who don't, and eat shamrock-shaped cookies with green Kool-Aid. St. Patrick himself, as a young boy, liked to party before his privileged childhood abruptly ended in kidnapping.

In the fifth century marauding Celtic warriors invaded the west coast of Britain taking prisoners who would become slaves in Ireland. At 16 years of age Patrick begins his life of suffering as a lonely shepherd boy enslaved to a brutal king. In his Confession, he recounts his encounter with God in the hunger and cold of slavery. After six years in captivity, he hears a voice telling him he will return home and that his ship is ready. He walks 200 miles unhindered to find the ship that takes him aboard.

Patrick returns to Britain a changed man and is unable to resume his former shallow life. In his restlessness has a dream in which he hears a multitude of Irish cry out to him, “We beg you to come and walk among us once more.” He joins a monastery in France and is ordained a bishop and priest. He determines to return to Ireland, to the cruel pagan people who had tormented him, to the warring Celts who would roast their enemies alive.

He forgives his former enemies and becomes a part of them, so much so that he uses the pronoun “us” in referring to the people. His gospel of love from the “Creator of creation” brings hope and peace to the people bound in superstition and fear of death. By the time of his death in 461 A.D., the whole nation embraced the Christian faith, which came to Ireland without violence.

The practice of slavery was eliminated; human sacrifice was abandoned. According to some estimates 120,000 people were baptized and at least 300 churches established. Patrick lived to see it happen, but remained a humble man, aware of his weakness and complete dependence on God.

This is a real man whose words from his own hand speak to us 1,500 years later, a man whose faith and courage enabled a nation to turn from darkness to light.

Taps in pubs all over America will run green tomorrow, the color of Patrick's beloved Emerald Isle, but the celebrations will be more about being Irish than about St. Patrick. Would that he could “come and walk among us,” that another whole nation might believe.

Arlene Neal is a wife, mother of six children and a middle grades teacher with a Masters in Education from Appalachian State University. She lives in Granite Falls. Contact her by e-mail at nealies@hotmail.com.