Reflections on Life and Faith,
by David Keating

St. Patrick's Day -
Sometimes We're All a Little Green

March 17, 2007

      St. Patrick's Day. The wearin' o' the Green. Irish coffee. Irish whiskey. And red tressed, fiery tempered lasses from the Emerald Isle.

     Coming from a proud, if distant, Irish background, I confess to a fondness for all of the above. Particularly the last.

     The name Keating apparently arose in County Limerick, which in my case is misleading because I've never been able to put together a decent ditty worth a darn. I'd never make a living writing greeting cards.

     I think I'd better stick with the alternative history that says my family name is derived from the Irish "Keith-taine" meaning a shower of fire. This, supposedly, because one of my ancestors was fierce in battle. Hey, anything's possible. I do wield a mean steak knife.

     If you're not fortunate enough to have real Irish blood running through your veins, fear not. On St. Paddy's Day, so the saying goes, everyone is a little bit Irish. Especially if you drink any of that green beer that some pubs insist on selling. Or, for the less adventurous, someone somewhere will no doubt offer green milkshakes.

     Besides a good reason for a party, St. Patrick is renowned for having chased the snakes out of Ireland. Now, I've never actually been to Ireland, but I'm thinking that it’s a wee bit large for such an undertaking. And since the folks who know most about such things say that Ireland probably never had snakes to begin with, we might be thinkin' that somebody had been kissin' the Blarney Stone a might heavily. Unless of course they'd had a wee drop 'o the good stuff; after which one might see just about anything.

     However, it seems that one of the symbols of the earth religion that most people followed before Patrick came along was a snake. Presumably this must have been imported from elsewhere. And the whole driving the snakes from Ireland thing was a reference to having converted folks thereabouts to Christianity.

     All very interesting of course, but not nearly as colourful as the real snake idea, which would have no doubt made Samuel L. Jackson happy to have St. Paddy along on that plane in his last movie.

     So here we are, smack in the middle of Lent, deep into the religious significance of the approaching Easter, and right in the middle of our reflections comes a Christian saint in whose name we dress in bright colours, hold parades, dance jigs, and enjoy the fermented fruits of our labours. Or somebody's labours; brewing my own is another one of those things I do not excel at.

     And why shouldn't we celebrate?

     Even for the most serious among us, we recognize that faith is about joy and celebration. That believing in the Presence of a Creator is to believe in a Spirit that can overcome all obstacles. Even snakes.

     That Presence is a uniting Spirit. If we're open to allowing it to be. We may not all dance jigs, or be up to those wonderful steps made famous in Riverdance or Lord of the Dance, but we can all understand and appreciate the enthusiasm and dedication that goes into making such a performance so powerful to watch.

     St. Patrick's Day, it seems to me, is an almost perfect celebration. It doesn't take itself too seriously. It doesn't require exchanging gifts. It's full of joy and happiness. People dance, sing and laugh. And everyone is invited.

     What better remembrance could a saint ask for?

     But don't even get me started about leprechauns.

Happy St. Paddy's Day.

David Keating