A Wee Bit O'Blarney

Kilfenora - Ireland

The Feast Day of Saint Patrick has taken-on more significance for me since we traveled and visited the Old Sod of my ancestors November, 2019.  Unless you are oblivious it is obvious that the Republic of Ireland is most assuredly a bastion of the Roman Catholic tradition of the Christian faith.  And I suppose more than a few visitors are left with the impression that Ireland is - in some official capacity - a Catholic country.  While Catholics significantly outnumber all other faith traditions in Ireland, there is no reference to Catholicism in the Irish Constitution.  Ireland is officially a secular state and tolerates all belief systems.  Of course, on my visit not even once did I spy a Lutheran church.  But I digress.

Getting back to the Feast Day the story of Ireland’s Patron Saint persists and you readers are likely wondering if St. Patrick really did chase the snakes out of Ireland.  Or is that tale just a bunch of blarney?        

According to the tale way back in the fifth century the legendary priest raised his staff and banished the reptiles into the seas surrounding the Emerald Isle.  Save for those in captivity it is true that Ireland has no snakes.  But this current condition has less to do with religious tradition and more to do with geologic history and events dating many millennia ago.  Following the retreat of the last glaciers some 15,000 years ago Ireland was devoid of snakes.  Surrounded by icy waters to this very day snakes cannot swim or find their way there and as a consequence Ireland remains snake-free.         

That’s too bad because if my recreational DNA test is to be believed I am becoming more Irish with every passing year.  And I have a particular fondness for snakes. The bigger the better.   

 Like this dandy five foot long Western Fox Snake.  I also like a good saint when I see one and St. Patrick wasn’t even Irish.         

Patrick was born of aristocratic blood in Britain probably around the year 390.  The legend says that he was not particularly religious.  At age 16 he was kidnapped into slavery was forced into life as a sheepherder in Ireland.  It is held that it was during this time that he found God and became a believer.         

As the story goes he began hearing voices and the voices instructed him to flee.  Which he did.  Patrick eventually found his way back to Britain and his family.  Alas, the voices returned commanding him to return to Ireland.  He was ordained a priest, went back to Ireland and spent the balance of a rather difficult life converting the pagan Celts to Christianity.  He died on March 17, 461 and was promptly forgotten.      

Nevertheless, over many years faithful conviction and belief in the story of Patrick grew.  And he grew ever larger after his death than he did in real life.  Hundreds of years after the fact he was honored as Ireland’s patron saint.         

So on March 17th we gather to pay homage to this saint who - ostensibly - banished the snakes from Ireland.  It is said that on this one day of the year everyone is Irish.          

Since I have real Irish blood coursing through my veins I intend to raise a glass of Guinness and toast my ancestors and Saint Patrick.  I will ignore the part about the sketchy British and Western European connection.         

Speaking of Guinness - according to the Guinness people somewhere around 5.5 million pints of Guinness stout are consumed world-wide each and every day.  On St. Patrick’s Day this will grow to 13 million pints.     

Drink responsibly people.         

Sláinte!