(Here is a re-posting of some thoughts on Saint Patrick’s Day – the Emerald Isle which the immigrant bishop (of a sort, as he was captured in slavery, likely from Scotland) has lost most of her Faith, and now most of her Freedom – the Irish have been under virtual house arrest for months, not allowed to travel more than a few miles from their home, now increased – Erin Go Bragh! – to six miles. I wonder what Patrick would have done under such conditions? How would he have cast out all the snakes and converted all the druids?
Hence, this will be, like last year, as we continue the interminable lockdown, a muted celebration, with pubs closed across the land, the music gone almost completely silent, except, we may hope, in homes and small gatherings. For we must not give in to a paralyzing fear.
The reader may find these sobering reflections from an Irish playwright food for thought, as well as a short post by Father Rutler. Ireland is not what she once was, and instead of getting inebriated on green beer, remembering the green isle at Holy Mass – if you can get to one – or in your daily rosary would help a lot more.