It occurred to me this is not a prayer in the way we are commonly told to think of prayer. The situation, says tradition, is that Patrick and his converts, on an island controlled by people hostile to Patrick and his evangelism, don’t pray like this: “O God protect us and hide us from the bad guys and keep them away and don’t let them see us and keep us safe.” Patrick prays like this:
I arise today through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity, through belief in the Threeness, through confession of the Oneness of the Creator of creation.
I arise today through the strength of Christ with his Baptism, through the strength of His Crucifixion with His Burial through the strength of His Resurrection with His Ascension, through the strength of His descent for the Judgement of Doom.
I arise today through the strength of the love of Cherubim in obedience of Angels, in the service of the Archangels, in hope of resurrection to meet with reward, in prayers of Patriarchs, in predictions of Prophets, in preachings of Apostles, in faiths of Confessors, in innocence of Holy Virgins, in deeds of righteous men.
I arise today, through the strength of Heaven; light of Sun, brilliance of Moon, splendour of Fire, speed of Lightning, swiftness of Wind, depth of Sea, stability of Earth, firmness of Rock.
I arise today, through God's strength to pilot me: God's might to uphold me, God's wisdom to guide me, God's eye to look before me, God's ear to hear me, God's word to speak for me, God's hand to guard me, God's way to lie before me, God's shield to protect me, God's host to secure me: against snares of devils, against temptations of vices, against inclinations of nature, against everyone who shall wish me ill, afar and anear, alone and in a crowd.
I summon today all these powers between me (and these evils): against every cruel and merciless power that may oppose my body and my soul, against incantations of false prophets, against black laws of heathenry, against false laws of heretics, against craft of idolatry, against spells of witches, smiths and wizards, against every knowledge that endangers man's body and soul.
Christ to protect me today against poisoning, against burning, against drowning, against wounding, so that there may come abundance in reward.
Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me, Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me, Christ on my right, Christ on my left, Christ in breadth, Christ in length, Christ in height, Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me, Christ in the mouth of every man who speaks of me, Christ in every eye that sees me, Christ in every ear that hears me.
There’s a lesson in prayer here. We think of prayer as only asking. “Supplication” is the seminary word, but it just means asking for something. Prayer, popularly, is asking for something. “O Lord, won’t you buy me a Mercedes-Benz.” A funny line when Janis sang it, but I have to honestly wonder how many pray a version of it in the pews of Joel Osteen’s church; and how many of them would recognize the Lorica as a proper prayer.
The prime mockery of faith is that the faithful pray, but God does not answer. You can find that in the Psalms, or in Isaiah; or, since this is Lent, even in the Passion stories. It’s a criticism that old: prayer is a bailout attempt. Its prime use is as the last resort. You use it to get something you can’t get anywhere else. That’s why there are no atheists in foxholes (it’s an ironic statement, not a universal truth. Calm down.). Prayer is supposed to be about asking; God is supposed to be about answering.
But the prayer Jesus taught, the Lord’s Prayer, the Our Father, is not about asking. Look at it; what does it ask for? This day our daily bread. Forgiveness for us only insofar as we forgive others. Not to be led into temptation, but delivered from evil. What else? A new car? A better job? Hot pizza?🍕
Now look at the Lorica again. What does it ask for? It is a series of statements. It is not a series of requests. Like the Pater Noster, it doesn’t focus on us, but focuses us outwards.
It’s certainly a legitimate use of prayer to use it in dire circumstances; to use it to get something you can’t get otherwise. But how do you do that? By praying really earnestly? By putting your heart into that prayer, like Creon does at the end of “Antigone”? He prays for death, realizing all his best intentions have ended in death and tragedy. Did he simply not pray hard enough; or were the gods truly not going to let him off that easily? Or was that, in our Christian context, not the right prayer?
Patrick doesn’t pray for deliverance from his enemies; or invisibility; or even to look like a herd of deer (the stories vary). Patrick prays that he be more faithful to God. His prayer is simply a series of statements. Statements that remind him of the presence of God, and that put him in the presence of God. Put him there consciously; deliberately; purposefully. This prayer displaces self and replaces it with Christ; but Christ is in the other.
Call it the ultimate humility.
It’s not the only purpose of prayer. But it’s the one too many Protestants, at least…🙋♂️… seldom consider.
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