S. Patrick's Vigil for Ireland

St Patrick's Vigil during Lent 441AD

on the Holy Mountain of Ireland

Saint Patrick's Vigil on the Reek: 441 AD.

In God's Providence, the merits of one virtuous act can atone for many. God's arithmetic is not what we would have expected. Saint Teresa of Avila told us that one soul taking two steps in holiness gives more glory to God than one million souls who take only one step. And so a Saint can gain merit for an entire nation, and for years or centuries ahead.

The following is a true account of Saint Patrick's Vigil on the holy Mountain of Ireland over the Lenten Season of 441AD, the year after the accession of Pope St Leo the Great. Patrick had sent him greetings, an Act of Homage, and an account of his mission. Pope Leo confirmed him in his mission, and blessed his labours, the same year as Patrick's Lenten Fast. It is recorded, among other places, in the book known as "The Tripartite Life of Patrick" based on the account by his nephew. It was read in every Church in Ireland in the three days up to his Feast Day on 17th March, throughout the Ages of Faith. The story of his Vigil entered the folklore and, until the advent of television, was intimately known to all the people of the Irish nation. As will happen, some of the later stories embroidered the original narrative of the life of Patrick, sometimes with rather silly episodes. But the following account is, I believe, the exact truth. If any proof were needed, if anybody will not accept the testimony of witnesses, the proof lies in the subsequent 1550 years of Irish history. In the words of the psalm: "He hath not done thus for every nation". Let us renew our intercessions to our great Patron Saint, a giant among giants of the Faith, in these troublesome times. Amen!

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And now Patrick travelled West to the townland of Achaghower - "Achadh Fhobhair" "The field of the Springs". . . He stayed there some days and wished to remain there –

"Here, in this little land

Between the mountain and the lake

I could find content.

Having travelled over so many mountains and lochs

I am weary at last

And would rest from my labours."

But Victor, his Guardian Angel, replied,

Still you shall go on.

Still you shall travel other hills and lochs.

Though you have travelled many mountains and lochs

"Even though you are weary

Still your work shall go on".

And so Patrick left the narrow land of Achaghower and travelled into the West; and in a few short miles the perfect cone of The Mountain reared over the horizon.

*******

Men say that the Parthenon is the most perfect structure built by human hands. It has an indescribable beauty. It looks less like a building made of stone than a bird that has this moment alighted, weightless, on the perfect hilltop.

Now in Pagan days the conical mountain at the end of the world was called Cruachan Aigle, the Eagle's Peak. Now it is Cruach Pádraig, Croagh Patrick, Patrick's Mountain, often called ‘The Reek" (an old word for a conical mountain). In 1962 I was told, "To this very day, when the fishermen sail in Clew Bay past the Reek, they stand in their boats and bow to the Mountain and to the honour of Saint Patrick".

One of my greatest earthly graces has been that I lived near the foot of Croagh Patrick for two years. It is impossible to describe the perfection of this holy mountain. It is not constituted from straight lines, like the Pyramids of Egypt, but it has a perfection that goes beyond the regularity of a pyramid. Impossibly steep, and in contrast to the Parthenon, so immovably and somehow heartbreakingly part of the living rock and at one with the ever-changing Mayo sky - where it can rain five times in one day and show two rainbows in winter gold sunshine - truly it is The Peak at the Western End of the World. Behind it is the sky over the Western Ocean. At sunset the fathomless black of the silhouette of the mountain lifting from the quiet grey-green moor, against the glowing apricot, crimson and midnight blue of the sky, studded with stars, is one of the Sights of the World. Nobody could see this and come away untouched. In the morning, with the sun shining on the Reek from the East, the white gleaming speck at the summit reveals the chapel built in the nineteenth century. They left blocks of stone and bags of cement at the base for the men to carry one block or bag at a time up the forty-five degree slope, full of sliding stones; but this was not enough to satisfy the fervour of the good men of Ireland, who would carry two bags at one time. Suffice it to say that nobody has ever questioned why Patrick should choose this arena upon which to wage his decisive Battle for the Soul of Ireland.

Patrick founded a church on the shores of Islandeady lake, about twelve miles from the Reek, on a small promontory. The church is not still there, but the local people know where it was.

*******

"Patrick then went to the summit of the mountain, not only to fast, but above all to pray for the people of Ireland, and he was resolved to do violence to Heaven until his petitions were granted. The Angel came to him to tell him that God was of an inclination to grant his petitions, although he was excessive and obstinate in the urging of them, and in the magnitude of them.

"Is that His Will?" said Patrick.

"It is," said the Angel.

"Well, then, I will urge them," replied Patrick. "And I will not go from this Reek until I am dead, or until all the petitions are granted to me."

And so he abode on the mountain, in much disquietude, without food, without water, from Shrove Saturday until Easter Saturday, after the manner of Moses, interceding for the men of Ireland night and day, and he slept in a hollow of the living rock on the summit, open to the gales; and he was grievously tormented during this time, day and night, by demons in the form of hideous black birds, so that he could see neither Heaven nor Earth. He sang maledictory psalms against them; but still they came on. He rang his bell against them

[which had sacramental power],

so that all the men of Ireland heard its voice; but still they came on.

[And this is a prophecy: for all the men of Ireland have indeed heard Saint Patrick's Bell to this very day].

Then, on Holy Saturday night, in his great wrath he threw his bell after them, so that it was broken on the hillside, and a piece flew out of it, so that it is named Bernan Brigte, Brigid's Gapling, to this day, for Saint Brigid kept that bell in later times.

And now the heart of Patrick was overcome with grief and he sank down upon a rock, and his tears in streams flowed down his cheeks, so that even his chasuble was wet with them.

But the demon birds left him, and no demon came to torment the land of Ireland thereafter for seven years and seven months and seven days and seven nights.

And on Easter Morn, as the sky lightened, the Angel came to console Patrick, and dried up his tears.

And after the departure of the demon birds, Patrick was granted a vision of an endless flock of beautiful white birds, who filled all the air and the sky with their beautiful forms and their sweet notes. For God commanded all the saints of Ireland, past, present, and future, to come to the mountain summit – that mountain which overlooks all others and is higher than all the mountains of the West – to bless the tribes of Éire, so that Patrick might see the fruit of his labours, for all the choir of the Saints of Ireland came to visit him there, who was the father of them all.

The angel announced, moreover, the granting of the first petition.

"These," said the angel, "all the birds you can see from here seawards, are the souls of all the Irish you shall save from the Fire."

"That is not much of a boon," replied Patrick, "for my eyes grow dim with age."

"Very well," replied the angel, "All the birds you see to seaward and to landward also: all these will be saved by thy merits on the Day of Doom."

[All my readers of Irish blood: you were there! — assuming you will go the right way, which God grant]!

But Patrick, remembering his sorrows and the crowds of demons that had surrounded him, replied,

"Is there anything else that He will grant me?"

"Yes," said the angel. "By your prayers, seven souls will be saved from the Fire on every Saturday until the Day of Judgment."

Patrick said,

"I want twelve!"

"Very well, you shall have them," said the angel. But you begin to weary Heaven with your importunities. Now get thee gone from the Reek."

"I will not go," since I have been so tormented," said Patrick, "Until I am blessed in the granting of all my desire."

Then said the angel,

"Very well: seven souls on every Thursday, and twelve on every Saturday shall be thine: so get thee gone now."

But Patrick said,

"Since I have been so grievously tormented, I must have more for Ireland than that. Is there aught else the Heavenly King will grant?"

Then the angel said, "This too is granted thee: a great sea shall cover Ireland seven years before the Last Day; and so the men of Ireland will be spared the reign of the Antichrist.

"Now get thee gone".

One would have thought this was a boon indeed; but Patrick replied,

"Since I have been so tormented, I must have more".

Then said the angel,

"What more do you want?"

"This," said Patrick. "That the Saxon will never have dominion over Ireland, by consent or force, so long as I dwell in Heaven".

"That too shall be granted thee", said the angel. "Now get thee down from the Reek".

"Not yet!" said Patrick. Since I have been so tormented, I must have more. Is there aught else granted to me?"

"There is," replied the angel. "Every one who shall sing thy Lorica [S. Patrick's Breastplate] from one watch to the other shall have neither pain nor torment".

"The hymn is long and difficult," observed Patrick.

"Very well. Whoever shall sing the last four stanzas, from 'Christus illum' [Christ be before me] to the end: and every one who shall give alms in thy name, and whoever does penance in Ireland, will be saved from the Eternal Fire. Now get ye down from the Reek."

"Not yet!" replied Patrick. Since I have been so tormented, I must have more. Is there aught else I am to get?"

"This," replied the angel, "A soul for every thread of your chasuble will be saved from the Eternal Fire on the Last Day".

"Why, any saint could get that number," said Patrick.

"How many more do you want?" said the angel.

"Seven souls for every thread of my chasuble to be saved from the Eternal Fire on the Last Day".

"This too shall be granted thee," said the angel. "And now get thee gone from the Reek".

"Not yet!" said Patrick, "Unless God Himself shall drive me away."

"What else do you want?" said the angel.

And Patrick said, "This: that when the Last Trumpet sounds, and the dead are gathered, and the Twelve Thrones shall be on Mount Sion – when the Twelve Apostles sit in judgment on the Twelve Tribes of Israel, that I myself will sit in judgment over the men of Ireland on that Day."

"But that surely cannot be obtained from God!" said the angel.

"Unless it be got, I will never cease interceding here on the Reek forever," said Patrick, "and if I die, I will leave another here after me."

The Angel departed to Heaven to present this petition to the Heavenly Court. And as the sun arose Patrick offered Holy Mass there on the summit on its behalf. And at the Hour of None, after the Mass was finished, the angel returned.

"All the powers of Heaven have interceded on thy behalf," said the angel, "And thy petition is granted. Thou hast prayed and hast obtained. All thy requests have been granted.

Thou art the most excellent man that has walked on the earth since the Apostles, except for thy excessive obduracy. Strike now thy bell; down on thy knees. And a blessing will come on thee from Heaven: and all the men of Ireland until the Last Day will be blessed and consecrated to God through thy merits."

"A blessing on the bountiful God who has given it all," said Patrick. "And now, I leave the Reek."

Micheál Ó Fearghail

From various sources, but principally from "The Life and Writings of Saint Patrick" by Archbishop Healy.