S t . P a t r i c k ’s B r e a s t p l a t e .
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During my years as a student at Cork University, in the forties of the last century, the president of that Institute at the time was the eminent Dr. Alfred O’Rahilly. Our president was a great Irishman, a great scholar, and if I may say so, a great Christian also. It was his custom, every Lent to give a lecture on “The Turin Shroud” and its significance, in our attempts to understand the Passion and Death of Christ. He always prefaced this lecture by stating that this was “his annual sermon”.
Now, as St. Patrick’s Day draws near, my own thoughts return, once again, to our National Patron, and my habit over the past number of years, of writing a special article, to celebrate this august occasion, but this year, permit me to refer to this article as, “my annual sermon”.
Firstly, let us call to mind the old saying that St Brigid promised that every second day from her feast day onwards, would be a good day, while St Patrick promised us that every day after his feast would be good, as would half of his Feastday also. How seldom our national Patron fulfils that promise? However, let us not forget last year, when the day was as fine a day as one would wish for, any time of year, not to mention Mid March!. Let’s hope that that day was the first of many fine St. Patrick’s Days.
However it’s not that but this…
About this time, almost every year, my thoughts go on pilgrimage back the years, to examine again, the truths, and principles of faith, that St Patrick sowed in the fertile soil of the Irish psyche. I recall again the Breastplate he handed on to us, as a protection against all evil, a Breastplate to be buckled on each morning, to ward off the wounding darts of the evil one, because each day must be viewed by the Christian as another battle, to be fought in his advance towards God’s Fort. Let me try to put into verse, in our native language, my understanding of that same Breastplate……
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Lúireach Phádraic Patrick’s Breastplate.
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Neart Dé do mo chosaint gach lá, God’s strength to defend me each day,
Lena Bhriathar mar lúireach, mar scáth, With his word as breastplate and shade,
Críost i mo thimpeall de shíor, Christ be around me always,
Mac Dé i gceartlár mo chroí, Gods Son in my heart all my days,
Romham do mo threorú, Before me to guide,
‘Mo dhiaidh do mo sheoladh, Behind to inspire,
Do mo ghráú, do mo shlánú, gan chríoch, To love and to save without end.
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Life’s journey begins anew each morning, but in a special way for the Christian. He must examine once again the truths and principles of his faith, because to my way of thinking, the principles, and truths, that we found easy to accept yesterday, may present quite different facets to us today, which renders them not quite as acceptable, as clear, or as believeable, to us now. There is another aspect of this problem also, as one feels, that belief becomes that little bit more difficult from year to year, because the human becomes more questioning, more forgetful, and more confused, as he becomes enmeshed in the net of the years, and even though, as a youth, he had enough faith to move mountains, the edge of that faith becomes blunted on the hard grindstone of the years, and didn’t the great Saint Paul himself warn us about this condition when he told us, that even though he continues to struggle in the battle of life, he has not yet won the victory, but he fights on, hoping for that final victory. Perhaps that is what the old people, long ago, meant when they spoke of the grace of final perseverance, that grace that would take them over the finishing line, still holding on to the faith that was gifted to them as children. One recalls here also that most of the saints we remember died rather young, and were spared the long lingering struggle of holding on to the faith. However, in these, our times, we have such great examples set before us, as Mother Teresa of Calcutta, and our revered Pope, John Paul the Second himself, two who set us a striking example of holding on to the faith through the advancing years.
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Bí fúm, do mo chosaint gach tráth, Be beneath me to guard me each day
Os mo chionn, do mo threorú, led’ ghrá, Above me to guide in the fray,
Bí liom nuair a luífidh mé síos, Be there when I lie down at night,
Bí faram ar mo leaba san oích’, Guard me as I sleep in your sight,
Ar mo dheis do mo threorú, On my right hand to guide me,
Ar mo chlé do mo sheoladh, On my left to direct me.
A Chríost ghil, ná diúltaigh mo ghuí. Dear Lord! Please grant my request.
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The Christian’s life was never meant to be easy, as day after day, week after week, and year after year he carries with him the gift and burden of the Faith. Take a look at the heart of the Mass and you will understand what I mean. In that part of the Mass the Roman Catholic believes, that Christ himself, body and soul, flesh and blood, humanity and Divinity, comes down among us, on the altar, at the terrible moment of the Consecration. Isn’t it difficult to believe that the Almighty God of Glory himself could possibly hide his majesty and might under the appearances of our humble bread and wine? The two worlds, the other world, and this world, meet in an awful moment in time, right there before us, with nothing between them except the thinnest, and yet most impenetrable veil. For the Roman Catholic then, this is the moment of truth, and if he finds it possible to believe what he says he believes, at that moment, then all is well, and he has bridged the gap of Faith, and he will find it possible, for now, at least, to walk in the shadow of the Lord, because for him the veil of the Temple has been rent from top to bottom, and he has glimpsed that secret world, hidden from us on this side of the veil……….Et velum Templi scisum est…….The Centurian crossed that bridge, long ago, and he could say ….. “In truth this was a son of God”……
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Bí liom nuair a shuífidh mé fúm, Be there when I sit in my place,
Nuair a sheasfaidh, bí taobh liom, a rún, When I stand, be there with your grace,
Bí i mbéal an té a labhrann lem chroí, Be on tongue of all who address me,
Bí i súil an té a chasann im líon, And in eye of each who beholds me,
Romham, do mo threorú, Before me to guide,
‘Mo dhiaidh, do mo sheoladh, Behind to inspire,
Bí i gcluais an té a éisteann lem mhian. Be in the ear that hears my desire.
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Didn’t Patrick himself have the strong faith? He believed that God was with him every step of the way, from rising in the morning to his lying down at night. And since he really believed that, he feared not the forces of evil. The trap of the hunter, or the net of the fowler held no terror for him. He would escape the darts of Satan himself, because God was with him and His all-protective breastplate about him. This belief is relatively easy for the person who is setting out on the path of understanding the Faith, because it follows the beautiful, mad, logic of that Faith, but as a person moves on in years, he questions the wisdom of that same Faith, and he has to convince himself, over and over again, having weighed up all the evidence, that this Faith is according to reason, and that it is a human answer to the riddle of life, that riddle that has plagued, and tormented the human mind, from the beginning of time….
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Neart Dé do mo chosaint gach lá, God’s might to defend me each day,
Lena bhriathar, mar Lúireach, mar scáth, With his Word, as Breastplate, and shade,
Críost le mo thaoibhse go buan, Christ at mo side without cease,
Do mo chosaint, ó dhúiseacht go suan, To save me from waking to sleep,
Romham, do mo threorú, Before me to guide,
‘Mo dhiaidh, do mo sheoladh, Behind to inspire.
Do mo shlánú Lá léanmhar an Luain. To save me on Judgement’s dread day.
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And now, as we come to celebrate another St Patrick’s Day, and as another Easter races in our direction, we must examine, and weigh up our faith, once again, to see if it deserves our assent, because as far as this delicate faith or ours is concerned, we must examine and re-examine it, weigh and re-weigh it, day after day, week after week, and year after year, cleaning, and polishing, and clarifying it, continuously. There is no visible certitude in any faith nowadays, because it requires our continual assent, to be given freely as each new day dawns.
And since we are now looking forward to the Season of Easter, my memory takes me back, through the flying years, to the Easter mornings of my youth, when the faith was deep in the marrow of my bone. At that time, each Easter morning, we arose before the sun, to watch its joyous Easter dance, as it celebrated the Resurrection.
And did it dance for us? You may ask.
Well I’m not going to assert that the sun danced for us, on those far-away mornings, but I will say this, that we believed passionately that the sun took three jumps out of its skin, with delight, on that morning of the Resurrection, as it rose from its bed in the east to face it’s new day. That was as we saw it then, and that’s the real truth.
Let me end then, by wishing that Patrick’s Breastplate and Brigid’s mantle encircle you this St. Patrick’s Day, and always.
He is risen…..
Alleluia!
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Peadar Bairéad.
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Gaeilge 
English