St. Patrick

I was thinking of what to write on St. Patrick, oddly enough, while laying in bed last night after having had two pints of Guinness while out with my roommate.

I'm sure you all know the story. When he was 16 he got kidnapped from Britain by Irish raiders and taken to Ireland, where he spent six years as a slave. Then he escaped home to Britain, where he returned to his family. After becoming a priest, he returned to Ireland to teach them about God.

Here's the thought that occurred to me while my head was all swimmy with alcohol, a sort of fictionalized conversation between St. Patrick and God.

Go back to Ireland.

Um...what?

Go back to Ireland.

That's funny, God. They kidnapped me and made me a slave. Great joke.

Can you imagine his reaction when he realized God was calling him to go back to the very people who kidnapped and enslaved him? Who would want to do that?

This is someone so completely devoted to God's will that he did the thing that everyone who possesses an ounce of common sense wouldn't do. And I find strange that we celebrate this devotion to Christ by drinking copious amounts of alcohol.