For many people, St. Patrick’s Day means leprechauns, shamrocks, and green beer. But for Christians, it’s the day we remember Patrick, the patron saint of Ireland, a man whose life was one of the most marvelous missionary stories of all time! We celebrate it on March 17th, which was the day he died, according to tradition, even though the actual dates of his birth and life are not known. This 5th century man was used by God in incredible ways to bring the gospel to the pagan Druid tribes of Ireland. Many of the stories traditionally associated with St. Patrick, including the famous account of his banishing all the snakes from Ireland, are false, the products of hundreds of years of exaggerated storytelling. It is estimated that in the few decades of his ministry on “The Emerald Isle,” he baptized 100,000 new believers, trained countless preachers, and established 100 churches! So perhaps he was working on banishing “the snake from Eden’s garden,” Satan.
Patricius, the Latin name by which he called himself, was born in the late 4th century (perhaps about 372) and raised in northern England near Dumbarton at the time Roman legions were being withdrawn to protect the city of Rome from the threats from migrating “barbarian” tribes from northern Europe. This left the English population defenseless against foreign incursions. Patrick died around the year 460 AD. Most of what we know about him comes from surviving copies of his brief “Confession,” in which he relates the spiritual dimensions of God’s work in his soul, and from two 7th century biographies. Though he is called “St.” Patrick, this was before the Roman Catholic Church began canonizing saints.
His father, Calpurnius, was a deacon, but probably only for tax benefits. There is no evidence that he was anything more than a nominal Christian. Patrick was taught basic Christian doctrine, but it had no impact on his heart until years later. At the age of 16, he was taken prisoner along with others by a group of Irish raiders who were attacking his family’s estate. They transported him to Ireland where he spent six miserable years in captivity, having been sold to a man named Milcho or Miliuc. There is some dispute over where this captivity took place. Although many believe he was taken to live in Mount Slemish in County Antrim, it is more likely that he was held in County Mayo near Killala.
During this time in slavery, he worked outdoors as a shepherd. He learned to speak and read the Irish language. Lonely and afraid, and frequently abused, he began to think again about the Christian faith he had been taught as a child. In this desperate time of personal need, God brought the gospel into clear focus in his heart, and he made a serious and lifelong commitment to Jesus. After more than six years as a prisoner, Patrick escaped. According to his writing, a voice, which he believed to be God’s, spoke to him in a dream, telling him it was time to leave Ireland. To do so, Patrick walked south nearly 200 miles from County Mayo, where it is believed he was held, to the Irish coast. After escaping to Britain, he spent a few years back home with his family, a time during which his new faith in Christ was growing. Patrick reported that he experienced a second revelation. He reported that an angel in a dream told him to return to Ireland as a missionary. Soon after, Patrick began religious training, a course of study that took him across the English Channel to Gaul (France), and which lasted more than 15 years, during which time he was elevated to the office of bishop.
After his ordination as a priest, he was sent to Ireland with a dual mission: to minister to Christians already living in Ireland and to begin to convert the Irish. Interestingly, this mission contradicts the widely held notion that Patrick introduced Christianity to Ireland. Since he had become familiar with the Irish language and culture, Patrick chose to incorporate traditional ritual into his lessons of Christianity instead of attempting to eradicate native Irish beliefs. For instance, he used bonfires to celebrate Easter since the Irish were used to honoring their gods with fire. He also superimposed a sun, a powerful Irish symbol, onto the Christian cross to create what is now called a Celtic cross, so that veneration of the symbol would seem more natural to the Irish. Although there were a small number of Christians on the island when Patrick arrived, most Irish practiced a nature-based pagan religion. The Irish culture centered around a rich tradition of oral legend and myth. When this is considered, it is no surprise that the story of Patrick’s life became exaggerated over the centuries, including the possibility that he used the three-leafed shamrock as an illustration of the Trinity.
The hymn we know as “I Bind Unto Myself Today the Strong Name of the Trinity” is Cecil Frances Alexander’s translation of the ancient text written by Patrick. According to John Julian’s 1907 “Dictionary of Hymnology,” we read that “St. Patrick’s Irish Hymn is referred to in Tirechan’s ‘Collections’ (A.D. 690).” It was directed to be sung in “all monasteries and churches through the whole of Ireland, . . . which is a proof that it was at that time universally acknowledged to be his composition.” The original text is found in two eleventh century manuscripts of his words, and included a preface with details about its composition. The explanation focuses especially on that part of his prayer where he wrote of Christ being in us and around us and with us, etc.
Patrick made this hymn; in the time of Loegaire mac Neill (a fifth-century Irish king), it was made, and the cause of its composition was for the protection of himself and his monks against the deadly enemies that lay in ambush for the clerics. And it is a lorica (a prayer of protection; Latin for “body armor”) of faith for the protection of body and soul against demons and man and vices: when any person shall recite it daily with pious meditation on God, demons shall not bear to face him, it shall be a protection to him against all poison and envy, it shall be a guard to him against sudden death, it shall be a lorica for his soul after his decease.
Patrick sang it when the ambuscades (ambushes) were laid for him by Loegaire (and his Druid accomplices), in order that he should not go to Tara (a hill in County Meath, Ireland, known as the seat of the High Kings of Ireland, the site of coronations, a place of assembly for the enacting and reading of laws, and for religious festivals) to sow the faith, so that on that occasion they (i.e., Patrick and his companions) were seen before those who were lying in ambush as if they were wild deer having behind them a fawn, and “Deer’s Cry” is its name.
“The Deer’s Cry” is still a name given to the text of this hymn. It is also the title of a work based on this text and composed by Estonian composer Arvo Pärt in 2007.
This kind of song uses an old Irish pre-Christian concept, Lorica, which means breastplate. The word is also found in Ephesians 6, urging believers to put on the breastplate of righteousness. Scholars note that it bears the mark of St. Patrick’s Christianity, with its deep sense of the battle between good and evil and the need to cry out every day to Christ for protection and praise. Along the way it tells the story of Christ’s becoming flesh to live with us and bring us salvation. In the middle, the Irish blessing and prayer for protection in stanza 5, Christ be all around me so that I am enveloped completely in Christ (in a sense clothed in him), but here the clothing is armor against the evil one. Theologians have said that the first thing the wicked one does is persuade us that he does not exist. People dabble in magic and unknown spirits because they don’t think there is anything out there. But then they realize they are imprisoned by the sinister darkness that is real.
At the center of this powerful hymn is the mini-stanza about Christ being always with us. As G. K. Chesterton said, “when people stop believing in God, they don’t believe in nothing, they believe in everything.” Patrick knew the world was filled with spirits of every kind. The only way he could fight the evil one was in Jesus’ name, arming himself every day to be kept safe. Whether or not people have a sense of those principalities and powers in their life, this song from ancient Ireland is a good way to remind one another of all the ways in which we can be armed for the daily spiritual battles we are fighting. The devil cannot endure Jesus’ Name. We can say it out loud as we begin our day or end it. Then, like Luther, who also had a keen sense of the enemy in his life, we can go about or go to sleep in confidence that Christ is with us, protecting and keeping us safe.
There have been many translations of Patrick’s words, but the most widely used today is the one by Cecil Frances Alexander (1818-1895). Born in Redcross, County Wicklow in Ireland, she wrote poetry in her school’s journal. She was the wife of Rev. William Alexander, who became the Anglican Bishop of Derry and Archbishop of Armagh. She had deep concern for disadvantaged people and traveled many miles each day to visit the sick and the poor, providing food, warm clothes, and medical supplies. She and her sister founded a school for the deaf. Among her more than 400 hymn texts were hymns based on the Apostles’ Creed, Baptism, the Lord’s Supper, the Ten Commandments, and Prayer. She excelled at writing lyrics in simple language that children could understand, but still with deep theological substance. Her hymns included “All Things Bright and Beautiful,” “Once in Royal David’s City,” “There Is a Green Hill Far Away,” and “Jesus Calls Us O’er the Tumult.”
She loved all things Irish. She was asked by the Dean at the Chapel Royal of Dublin Castle to do a metrical version of Patrick’s prayer, or Lorica, as the Dean referred to it. She quickly did so in 1869 in time for the St Patrick’s Day festival. This is an especially complicated hymn because it basically has three metrical parts so needed at least two tunes, and a chant in the middle. Composer Charles Villiers Stanford (1852-1924), also born in Ireland, and taught at Trinity College, Cambridge University, set it to music using two traditional Irish tunes. It is frequently sung at the time of St. Patrick’s Day or on Trinity Sunday. Hymnal committees in the past half century have put it into their hymnals and has since gotten more attention, especially among Lutherans and Episcopalians.
Stanza 1 serves as an introduction of the theme of the prayer, that of the strong security we have in our Triune God. Though it is not addressed to the Lord, it speaks words of praise in His presence. It is a profession of faith, not only to Him, but also to ourselves as we renew our commitment to the Lord. By invoking the threefold Name, calling on Father, Son, and Spirit, we promise to bind ourselves to the one who has bound Himself to us in our salvation. And what infinite power is there in the person and work of the one whose Name is strong!
I bind unto myself today the strong Name of the Trinity
By invocation of the same, the Three in One and One in Three.
Stanza 2 continues this confessional nature of the text with the words repeated at the beginning of each stanza, “I bind.” We could almost think of this as a baptismal formula of those who have recently come to Christ and is now publicly professing loyalty to Him in their adult baptism. In this stanza, we find a brief summary of the historical high points of Jesus’ earthly ministry: His incarnation, baptism, death, resurrection, ascension, and second coming.
I bind this day to me forever, by power of faith, Christ’s incarnation,
His baptism in Jordan river, His death on Cross for my salvation,
His bursting from the spiced tomb, His riding up the heavenly way,
His coming at the day of doom, I bind unto myself today.
Stanza 3 reaches out to claim additional spiritual power from sources in heaven and on earth, in language closely matching that of the ancient 4th century “Te Deum.” While Protestants have some hesitancy in what almost sounds like prayers to angels and saints, it’s not so much a matter of praying to them as it is seeking to have a faith that resembles that which they modeled, both from Isaiah 6 and from Hebrews 11. All of this is that we might offer those “good deeds” we perform for the Lord, not meritoriously but gratefully.
I bind unto myself the power of the great love of cherubim;
The sweet ‘Well done’ in judgment hour; the service of the Seraphim;
Confessors’ faith, Apostles’ word, the Patriarchs’ prayers, the prophets’ scrolls;
All good deeds done unto the Lord, and purity of virgin souls.
Stanza 4 should not be viewed as a pantheistic equating of nature with God, but rather a reflection so common in the Psalms that all of creation praises the Lord. And so we scan the skies above to see the sun, the moon, and the lightning that all declare their Maker’s praise. And then we look around at the wind of the storm, “the stable earth,” and “the deep salt sea” that crashes up against “the old eternal rocks” that line the rugged coastlines (as in Ireland). As believers, we “bind” ourselves to them in the sense that we join them in their chorus of worship.
I bind unto myself today the virtues of the starlit heav’n,
The glorious sun’s life-giving ray, the whiteness of the moon at even,
The flashing of the lightning free, the whirling wind’s tempestuous shocks,
The stable earth, the deep salt sea around the old eternal rocks.
Stanza 5 looks beyond created things to bind ourselves to God Himself. It is a way of saying that my heart claims Him, clings to Him, trusts in Him, and longs for Him. Most specifically this stanza identifies what this “binding” makes possible for us. After saying He holds and leads us, we then speak anthropomorphically of God as if He had body parts … His eye, ear, hand, and mouth … which watch, stay, harken, ward, give us speech … and His angelic hosts to guard us. Put all this together and we have incredible divine power caring for us.
I bind unto myself today the power of God to hold and lead,
His eye to watch, His might to stay, his ear to hearken to my need,
The wisdom of my God to teach, His hand to guide, His shield to ward,
The word of God to give me speech, His heav’nly host to be my guard.
Stanza 6 is at the heart of the hymn and are the lines that form the essence of the prayer of St. Patrick as we recall him facing such challenges. Those came not just during the years of his youthful slavery, but also in the dangers he faced as he returned to the land of his captivity, not knowing whether or not he might be executed on sight as a runaway slave. And then there were the trials that came during his years of ministry as jealous clerical rivals brought charges against him to try to have him removed from pastoral work. Sung quietly and reverently today, these words reflect the heart-longing of each of us: that Jesus would keep His marvelous promise to never leave us or forsake us (Hebrews 13:5).
Christ be with me, Christ within me, Christ behind me, Christ before me,
Christ beside me, Christ to win me, Christ to comfort and restore me.
Christ beneath me, Christ above me, Christ in quiet, Christ in danger,
Christ in hearts of all that love me, Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.
Stanza 7 returns to the opening theme of our looking to the Lord for our strength. And of course, it is actually not so much that we are binding ourselves to Him, as that He has bound us to Himself.
I bind unto myself the Name, the strong Name of the Trinity
By invocation of the same, the Three in One and One in Three,
Of whom all nature hath creation, eternal Father, Spirit, Word.
Praise to the Lord of my salvation; salvation is of Christ the Lord!
In addition to appearing in hymnals, the text has recently been shared with many through one of the songs in the new album from Keith and Kristyn Getty, “Confessio; Irish American Roots.
Here is a singing of the hymn in typically Anglican fashion.