Do you know the story of St Patrick?

During a slow time this past Saturday, Kim and I dropped by the Walmart Superstore. It was my idea. I had shopping to do.

First, I rushed to the cereal aisle and bought a Family Size box of chocolate Lucky Charms. Thinking better of it, I got two. On the way across the store, we saw shamrock-shaped sugar cookies encrusted with green sprinkles. Into the cart with them also. Next stop was the promotional display where I found a packet of temporary tattoos – pots of gold, leprechauns, the works. Kim selected a gift bag with gold flecks and some green tissue paper to dress it up.

We were on our way to Erin’s house to deliver her gifts.

You might not be surprised that a guy named McAfee who named his daughter Erin (an old name for Ireland) would be a fan of St Patrick’s Day. You’d be right, but probably not for the reasons you think.

St. Patrick’s Day is a rare treat for people of faith. While the world is celebrating with green beer, dressed in green, and pretending to be Celtic for a day, they are suddenly open to hearing the real story of St. Patrick.

If you don’t know it, then you are in for a treat bigger than Erin’s cookies.

Patrick was born in Briton during the closing days of the Roman empire. He was the wealthy son of a senator and tax collector who enjoyed a life of luxury in an expansive villa. He probably overheard conversations his father had about the crumbling condition of empire and the sorry state of affairs in Rome, but he was too busy being a child to care. What difference could such things matter to him?

He had time to spend with his grandfather, Pontius, who was a member of the church clergy. Pontius taught the boy about scripture and the nature of God, but Patrick wasn’t interested in such things. He had more important things to occupy his time. What difference could such things matter to him?

He learned how wrong he was on both matters on the same day. With the Roman army busy defending Rome, no one was left to guard the coast from marauding Irish pirates. When they invaded his villa, overthrowing any minimal resistance, they took everything of value and then grabbed him and drug him back to their ship. Alone in the world, he cried out to a God he was previously disinterested in, but no one came to save him.

Days later he was sold as a slave Ireland. His “owner” attached an iron band around his neck to mark him as a slave. The law of the land was clear on this matter. If Patrick removed the band, he was punishable by death. Anyone who assisted him with the removal would share his punishment. The carefree, wealthy teenager had become the lowest form of person. He was property.

His job became tending to the animals. Poorly dressed and fed, he suffered miserably on cold nights in distant pastures with the animals. With no one to talk to, he reached out to the only one who was always there. God.

For six long years as he endured his fate, he became changed. The spoiled child was replaced by a humbled man. The disinterested believer found God during his time alone. What had been intended for evil became a force of grace in his life.

One day, the Lord spoke to him. He told him that his time as a slave was ending. Emboldened by the revelation, Patrick escaped. He travelled stealthily to a coast two hundred miles away, ever vigilant to anyone he encountered. Would they drag him back to his owner, or risk their own lives to help him remove the cursed iron band around his neck?

Eventually he encountered a ship’s captain who agreed to remove his band, likely in exchange for more forced labor, and his escape was complete. He made his way back to his ancestral home only to find that he no longer belonged there. Any connection to that place had vanished when he did.

With nowhere else to turn, he found a church and began to study the God he met in the pastures of Ireland. The work ethic he had gained served him well and he threw himself into his studies. No longer a slave shepherd with animals, he became a priest that lacked a flock.

Then God spoke to him a second time, calling him back to Ireland.

I can imagine his reaction made Jonah seem timid. They were unbelievers who had enslaved him. There were no Christians on the entire island. Worse, he was marked for death upon his return as an escaped slave.

God persisted.

Patrick relented and boarded a ship back to Ireland. Once there, he searched out his former owner and threw himself upon his mercy. To his relief, he was fully pardoned.

Thus began his efforts to convert druids and Celts of all types to Christianity. His patience in explaining the ways of the Kingdom became the stuff of legends. When he travelled to a new place, he would shove his walking stick into the ground and leave it there until he finished his teaching. He spent so much time in one locale that his stick was said to have sprouted roots and begun growing into a tree.

Whether this miracle occured or not is less important than the tenacity it represents. Patrick was determined to share his faith.

As believers multuplied, the church took hold and grew. Patrick became regarded as the Bishop of Ireland. It was a golden time of expansion of God’s kingdom.

Then rumors began to circulate that Patrick was taking gifts from wealthy patrons to make himself wealthy again. He viciously denied these reports but they would not go away.

To defend hmself, Patrick wrote a book titled “The Confessio” that contains most of what we now know of his life. Once again, attacks that were meant to hurt him were used for good by a loving Father.

The people of Ireland may love St. Patrick because he brought them Christianity. I love him because his story speaks to us today – risking everything to follow God’s voice, plans for harm used for good by His hand, and a tenacious life of purpose that expands God’s kingdom.

We all need some Patrck in our lives.

On every St. Patrick’s Day, I hope you start off with Lucky Charms and wear green from head to toe. If someone offers to share a green beer with you, then take them up on it. Somewhere during all of it, you can ask them the same question I have posed so many times.

“Do you know the story of St. Patrick?”