#croagh patrick

In 1967 John Lennon bought an island here on Ireland's west coast in Clew Bay, County Mayo.

He intended to retire and live on the island, Dorinish, also known locally as Beatle Island.

The small, low, hilly islands are drumlins, formed as ice moved across the landscape. Extending out from the Irish mainland these in the bay were flooded by the Atlantic.

In Irish mythology, the Lughnasadh festival is said to have been begun by the god Lugh (Lú) as a funeral feast and athletic competition in commemoration of his mother (or foster-mother) Tailtiu. She was said to have died of exhaustion after clearing the plains of Ireland for agriculture. Tailtiu may have been an earth goddess who represented the dying vegetation that fed mankind. The funeral…

Perfunctory pilgrims

Notice that Sharon is neither barefoot, nor on her knees, for her pilgrimage up Croagh Patrick, in County Mayo, Ireland.

And to tell you the truth, neither of us felt inclined, at the time, to make the 3-4-hour (round trip) climb, even on our fully-shod feet. We climbed high enough, however to get stunning views of the Atlantic.

But thousands of Christians go all the way, in honor of St. Patrick (bottom photo), the patron saint of Ireland. Legend has it that, in 441AD, he spent 40 days on the mountain, fasting and praying, following the example of Christ and Moses. The pilgrims believe the effort earns them indulgences (forgiveness) for their sins.

I suppose the last time I actually celebrated it was when I lived in Ireland and was in our village’s parade representing my college’s study abroad program.

My cringey American flag toga was actually a table cloth which is also cringey if you think about it. Though what made me stop celebrating it after living in Ireland was seeing the difference in the way it was celebrated between my rural corner of Ireland vs. the over commercialized pop-culture gimmicks found back here in the US.

To simplify I suppose in the US it’s all about green plastic everything, Irish stereotypes, and getting drunk. In Ireland that’s all toned down (at least in my old village), though there’s a more overt religious aspect, and yes people still get drunk. Also in Ireland the pub kitchen kept carting out free food that day which doesn’t really happen in America as far as I’ve observed.

Our village was also a few miles from Croagh Patrick, Ireland’s holy mountain. It was already holy to the pagans in pre-Christian times, and it was allegedly where Patrick made pilgrimage at the beginning of his missions. Around that time I made my own pilgrimage up the mountain, curious about its pagan history that had been lost to time, and wondering what it’s original name was. Modern pagans started calling it Croagh Crom or Croagh Lugh, but I’m not sure what their source is on that.

In the writings of the early Irish monks it showed that Patrick’s conversions were mostly bloodless, though one account claims Patrick killed a druid by praying him into the air and dropping him. I doubt that actually happened because that book was written long after Patrick died, and Christian mythology is full of hyperbole, fabrication, and hearsay.

Some people claim Patrick converted all of Ireland, but that’s also not true. Saint Columba was born almost a century after Patrick died. Some scholars believe his father might have been a druid or at least pagan, because Columba had a lot more patience with the druids he encountered. He was also trained by a Filí (Irish for a Seer-Bard, which was one step below a Druid) named Gemman. Given Columba’s singing miracles (with a voice like thunder), he might have been a Filí too. He even healed a sick druid who couldn’t heal himself. There was a lot of one-upmanship between druid magic and saint’s miracles as early Christian propaganda though, but I digress. Even in Columba’s lifetime there were still pagans in Ireland.

These days if I observe Saint Patrick’s Day, it’s more of a celebration of the returning of paganism in the modern era. If you ever hike up Croagh Patrick, there’s an ancient tradition, perhaps millenia old, to bring a stone at the onset of your journey. Imbue it with your worries, concerns, or prayers. Meditate on it while you climb the mountain, and leave the stone on one of the cairns at the top. Don’t take any stones from the mountain, as you would be taking someone else’s worries that become your own. Oh, and enjoy the view!