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Dear Patrick,
I am sure that the story of your namesake is one you will hear many times during your life. I write it down here for you to read, and others in case anyone is interested. I kind of have this idea that I’d love to name my boys after historical
figures and my girls after literary characters, with the caveat that I also
like the names’ meanings... and that Daddy likes them too. So
far it’s worked out. Your sister's name, "Eowyn Grace" is from
Tolkien’s The Two Towers (The Lord of the Rings),
and we named your big brother "William Christopher" after your Poppy (my father-in-law) and your daddy’s good
friend, as well as history’s William the Conqueror and Christopher Columbus,
who at the very least had vision and initiative whatever their faults. His name means “strong protector, bearer of
Christ.” So when I thought of
names I’d love to give a second son, top of the list was Patrick. As for your middle name… I think that one’s pretty
obvious: your daddy’s name. I happen to think carrying that name is an honor any son will be glad to have. it’s the name of a smart, compassionate man who works diligently to provide for his family, serve his church, be a faithful friend, and fight sin. He is one who consistently befriends “the least of these” yet is unafraid to converse with those society calls “great,” and who genuinely cares about both. He is brave and adventurous, a gifted writer and an
innovative businessman. He also happens to be able
to make me laugh like no one else and is incredibly good-looking. :) I’d love it if you, my boy, grew
up to be "just like Daddy."
Both “Patrick” and “Ryan” have connotations of nobility, of royalty. I hope to raise a son who carries
himself as though he is of noble blood, in every positive sense of the word,
with none of the arrogance.
So, Patrick…who was he? Some Catholic saint? Someone who loved to drink and looked
for leprechaun gold? Did he even exist? I’m happy to say that yes, there really
was a man named Patrick, and he had nothing to do with leprechauns or searches
for treasure at the end of rainbows.
He probably loved a good drink like any shivering Briton of the 5th century, and as for Catholicism, he
was a Christian—and that was the only kind of Church there was before the
East-West Schism.
But the historical Patrick, originally named Sucat, was passionate for
the Gospel; brave, compassionate, effective pastor, smart, poetic and a gifted evangelist. (I think of him as his day’s William
Carey, Tim Keller and John Piper rolled into one.)
Most do not know his true history, so I’ll give my own biography of him here: Sucat grew up on what is now the coast of England, son of a deacon, loved and well-taught in Scripture but unbelieving. As a teenager he was
kidnapped out his bedroom window by Scottish raiders (“scotti” means “pirate”),
taken to Ireland and sold as a slave.
While there he was a shepherd, alone for most of each day in the wild green hills. He had a lot of thinking time, just him
and the animals. All the lessons
and prayers from his childhood came back to him, and he turned to the God he
had long ignored. Amidst the
fear-filled druidic paganism and untamed beauty around him, he Believed and began to find joy in communion with
the one Friend for sinners. The
other servants jokingly dubbed him “Holy Boy” as he began to spend each day in
prayer and speak to them all of this kind God. One night he had a dream that led him to escape. Miraculously he made it home to
England, where he was reunited with his overjoyed parents. Years later he had another dream, this
time of a man crying out in Irish “we beg you, “Holy Boy,” come back and walk among
us!” and awoke with the weight of thousands of souls on his conscience. He began to realize "who better to take the Good News to the Lost of Ireland than one who knew their ways and spoke
their language?" After receiving seminary
training and being ordained and commissioned as a minister of the Gospel,
Patrick set out for
the land where he had been enslaved, despite knowing that his escape from
slavery would mean his old master could legally kill him.
What happened next was nothing short of miraculous. Patrick’s simple teaching and faithful
preaching began a complete upheaval in
Ireland. Hundreds, both wealthy –even
nobility—and simple,
left their old religion of fear and appeasement and turned to the One True God
whose love cast out all fear, and whose wrath had already been appeased by His
Own Son’s sacrifice. The Good News spread through the
network of bards God had sovereignly put in place over the centuries, both traveling singers and the officials who were responsible
for keeping record of each lord & clan’s history and feats in song. Poetry and
songs as only the Celts can write began to be sung in the praise of Jesus from one end of the
island to the other. Even the bard
of the High King converted, and the man who once had been sent to
diplomatically secure magical talismans from rival lords instead used his
talent with words to compose the hymn we sing today as “Be Thou My Vision.” Hundreds of young men and women came to Patrick desiring to
become nuns and monks in devotion to God’s work for life. All this occurred despite constant death
threats against him from druids who did not appreciate the incursion into “their” territory. Patrick refused any financial gifts, knowing these would
tie him to a lord and a clan. This
left him essentially without legal protection, yet he fearlessly continued to teach and preach,
believing he would only die when the Lord’s work for him was done. By the time the Lord took him Home, the Irish church had been
well established, with a rich Celtic liturgy all its own, quite distinct from
that of the rest of Europe's, as Patrick encouraged his congregants and disciples
to use their talents
to write their own songs and hymns.
(Unfortunately under English oppression this liturgy was nearly
completely lost. Several tunes
survived through oral tradition as well as a few prayers and hymns; however all
record of the system the Irish Celts once used to notate their music was lost forever.)
Very few of Patrick’s own words survive to this day, however two
documents do remain—his “Confession” and an open letter which he wrote—and several pieces of
poetry are also attributed him by tradition. The
writings show a courageous, humble man passionate for God’s glory and deeply compassionate for his
fellow man, especially those in Ireland.
“I am Patrick, yes a sinner
and indeed untaught; yet I am established here in Ireland where I profess
myself bishop. I am certain in my heart that "all that I am," I have received from God.
So I live among barbarous tribes, a stranger and exile for the love of God. […] If I have any worth, it is live my life for God so as to teach these
people; even though some of them still look down on me.”
“How is it that in Ireland,
where they never had any knowledge of God but, always, until now, cherished
idols and unclean things, they are lately become a people of the Lord, and are
called children of God; the sons of the Irish and the daughters of the chieftains are
to be seen as monks and virgins of Christ. […] I confess to my Lord
and do not blush in His sight, because I am not lying; from the time when I
came to know Him in my youth, the love of God and fear of Him increased in me,
and right up until
now, by God's favor, I have kept the faith.”
And one of my favorite bits of poetry, “the Lorica of St Patrick’” contains the
verse: “I arise today / Through the strength of Christ's birth and His
baptism,/ Through the strength of His crucifixion and His burial, / Through the strength of His resurrection and His
ascension,/ Through the strength of His descent for the
judgment of doom.” Though we
don’t know for certain that Patrick penned those words, they certainly fit in
with the Gospel-centeredness
of his life, to wake up every morning completely & intentionally in Christ.
Those are all words I would be glad to know my son
could also honestly claim.
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| St Patrick's Rune as used by Madeleine L'Engle in A Swiftly Tilting Planet (one of my very favorite books) |
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