Saint Patrick and the Irish
As an exercise in public relations, the annual Irish American Saint Patrick's Day celebration has few equals. Spreading the good news that the Irish are as fine a bunch of hearty lads and black-eyed colleens as a person could hope to meet in a day's walk, parades now take place in most of the major cities in the nation. Conceived with more of an eye to improving the image of the New World Irish than keeping alive memories of the Old Country, the earliest Saint Patrick's Day parade was held in New York City in 1762. This year's six hour, 12,500, person extravaganza in The Big Apple is expected to attract one million spectators along it's route.
Not to be outdone by New York or other eastern seaboard cities boasting a large concentration of Irish, Chicagoans, with the luck of the Irish, had the novel idea of capitalizing on their then sickly colored Chicago River by turning it even more green for at least one day in the year. The river is cleaned up now but still gets its annual dose of green dye; that and the widespread availability of green beer make Saint Patrick's day a popular event in the Windy City.
Even here in the Twin Cities, shrine of Saint Urhu and all things Scandinavian, Irish Americans had begun to fly the flag and up the blarney by the middle of the last century. Saint Paul held its first parade, a modest affair, in 1851. Minneapolis Irish following suit sixteen years later, in 1867. Now good-natured Oles and Lenas can become Micks and Bridie's for a day and address those sturdy traditionals of Irish fare, green beer, and green cabbage, or, for an even more authentic celebration of the sainted feast, quaff enough Guinness to make them feel green on this cheerful, easy going celebration of Ireland's Patron Saint.
The American version of Saint Patrick's Day is quite unlike anything that ever happened in Ireland though the Irish Government and Tourist Board have not been slow to appreciate the benefits both at home and abroad. Any event that causes everyone with even a bit of Irish to swell with pride, and those who are not so blest, green with envy on at least one day in the year, is no bad thing. Back in the old country, Dublin now sports its own parade, replete with American Irish contingents and all the paraphernalia of the Fifth Avenue bash, and who but a puritan would begrudge them a bit of American fun on the auld sod?
On a more serious note, however, the annual celebration of the patron saint of the Irish might do well to include a bit more of the wisdom of the saint on the anniversary of his death and a bit less of the blarney. Nothing wrong with some free PR and a few warm, green fuzzies. Ireland and the Irish can use all the good feelings and good press they can get, but they could also use a bit of help of the kind Saint Patrick brought fifteen centuries ago.
Taken from his native Britain by Iris slave traders at the tender age of sixteen, Patrick was sold into six years of slavery in Co Antrim, tending the sheep and pigs of his master Milcho, King of Dalaradia During that time, he tells us in his Confession, he learned the language and the ways of the Irish and grew to understand them if not yet to love them. Though he didn't know it until after his escape and subsequent return to Ireland as a missionary, his forced acclimatization to Irish ways was to stand him in good stead and give him both credibility and opportunity to influence for good the affairs of the Irish.
Though he considered them "heathen savages," he cared for them and had their welfare deep within his heart and, in time, became one with them in what he would have considered their newly enlightened state in the Kingdom of God. Those who followed him loved him and his persuasive presentation of the Gospel. Others hated him and his mission, preferring instead to remain bound to the ancient ways of the Druids. Loved or hated, Patrick was always respected, the people knowing instinctively that he was not amongst them for personal gain or bidden agenda In this, he differed, and differs still, from all others since who have sought by persuasion or coercion to change the lives, religion, or culture of the Irish.
In his Confession, he declares that he derived no personal comfort or gain from his presence or work in Ireland save the satisfaction of following the dictates of his conscience and the call of God. If any could prove differently, they were invited to do so and he would repay them in full. "Not so much as the price of my sandals," he declared, had he taken from the Irish. On the contrary, it appears that he largely financed his mission from his own personal and family resources. "With the grace of The Lord, I did everything lovingly and gladly for your salvation."
Is there a latter-day Saint Patrick for the Irish? A person who will care deeply for this once noble and artistic people and for the restoration of that nobility? A person who will work and pray for peace and tranquillity throughout the land? British Prime Minister John Major and his "cover your a.." brand of politics has not done it and will not do it Ireland's domestic politicians, fatally tainted with sectarian bias, have not done it and will not do it. President Clinton, though remarkably successful and popular in Northern Ireland, inevitably looking over his shoulder to the American Irish vote, cannot do it either. Can Madeline Albright? Maybe.
Ireland needs a man or a woman of vision and courage who is willing to fail as well as to succeed. An outsider, a reconciler who will live and move amongst the Irish. A person like Patrick, who will learn their ways, their history, and speak their language. Is there a Jimmy Carter in the house? Let's make him a Paddy. The Honorable Patrick Carter. Now there's a man for the Irish. Wouldn't that be a parade.