March 17,
2008
Although
the
mists
of
history
hide
much
about
St.
Patrick,
this
much
we
do
know:
He
was
not
even
Irish.
He
was
born
in
Roman
Britain
and
kidnapped
by
Irish
attackers.
After
escaping
captivity,
Patrick
returned
to
Britain
and
became
a
priest,
and
later
a
bishop.
He
returned
to
Ireland
30
years
later
and,
despite
the
danger,
witnessed
Christ
among
the
Irish,
converting
thousands.
As
Thomas
Cahill
describes
in
his
outstanding
book,
How
the
Irish
Saved
Civilization,
these
barbaric
warriors
"lay
down
the
swords
of
battle,
flung
away
the
knives
of
sacrifice,
and
cast
away
the
chains
of
slavery."
Not
only
did
the
Irish
save
civilization,
their
zeal
for
Christ
certainly
saved
the
Church
in
Western
Europe.
As
my
colleague
T.
M.
Moore
wrote
at
BreakPoint.org,
"The
period
of
Celtic
Christianity,
which
lasted
some
400
years
between
the
fifth
and
the
ninth
centuries,
is
one
of
the
most
fascinating
and
fruitful
of
epochs."
Particularly
appealing,
writes
T.
M.,
is
the
Celts'
"acute
sensitivity
to
the
revelation
of
God
in
creation."
Many
believers
today
do
not
go
much
beyond
"the
heavens
declare
the
glory
of
God"—but
we
ought
to,
particularly
in
this
age
when
everyone
from
population-control
advocates
to
materialists
worships
the
creation
rather
than
the
Creator.
Here,
studying
the
Celts'
"creational
theology,"
as
T.
M.
calls
it,
gives
Christians
a
place
to
bring
truth
into
that
conversation.
"Reading
the
works
of
Celtic
Christians,"
we
get
the
impression,
says
T.
M.,
"that
if
God
is
making
Himself
known
through
the
things
He
has
made,
then
we
need
to
be
studying
those
things
carefully,
in
order
to
discover
His
glory,
encounter
His
presence,
and
learn
what
we
can."
And
talking
about
God's
general
revelation
opens
doors
for
conversations
with
those
who
might
not
talk
about
God
otherwise.
Take
the
sixth-century
Irish
monk
Columbanus,
who
evangelized
much
of
Western
Europe.
He
encouraged
believers
to
"understand
the
creation,
if
you
wish
to
know
the
Creator."
A
writer
known
as
the
Irish
Augustine
insisted
that
God
brought
creation
into
being
so
He
"might
reveal
through
created
things
all
the
vast
goodness
and
power
and
benevolence
which
beforehand
He
possessed
within
Himself
alone."
And
philosopher
and
theologian
John
Scotus
Eriugena
is
considered
perhaps
the
first
proponent
of
"intelligent
design."
"Observe
the
forms
and
beauties
of
sensible
things,"
he
wrote,
"and
comprehend
the
Word
of
God
in
them.
If
you
do
so,
the
truth
will
reveal
to
you
in
all
such
things
only
He
who
made
them."
Patrick
himself,
it
is
said,
often
used
the
things
of
creation
to
point
beyond
to
the
Creator.
His
use
of
the
shamrock
and
its
three
leaves
to
describe
the
Trinity,
even
if
it
is
legendary,
is
just
one
example.
You
see,
Celtic
Christians
showed
us
how
to
connect
our
faith
with
the
physical
creation.
They
showed
us
how
to
engage
those
who
do
not
yet
know
God
as
we
move
about
in
this
world,
which
reveals
His
glory.
So
this
St.
Patrick's
Day,
when
friends
wish
you
"the
luck
of
the
Irish,"
tell
them
about
the
faith
of
the
Irish—and
what
they
had
to
say
about
the
beauty
of
our
earth
and
the
beauty
of
its
Creator.
