Although Patrick was now beginning the great work of his life, his struggles were far from over. Firstly, there was the violence and duplicity of the Irish. He speaks of no less than twelve attempts on his life, as well as many other conspiracies of which he was the intended victim. He was frequently taken captive – once for a period of sixty days. Small wonder that he describes himself as living ‘among barbarian people, a stranger and exile for the love of God’ (Corot. 1).

Ireland at that time was made up of many tribal kingdoms and Patrick speaks of giving gifts to the various kings. Given the violence he describes, we can safely assume that these gifts were a form of protection money. In addition to this, he had to pay an escort consisting of the sons of chieftains in order to protect himself from ordinary brigands. On at least one occasion, these bodyguards turned on Patrick and his companions, seizing everything they had.

Raising funds
The funds to pay for these expenses all came from Britain and Gaul because Patrick refused to accept money or support from the people among whom he lived. He was so strict about this that at times he offended ‘the pious women who leave some of their jewellry on the altar’ (Conf. 49). In this, he followed the practice of Saint Paul, the first great preacher to the Gentiles, who took no money from the Christians of Corinth while he was among them. ‘I was robbing the other Churches, living on them so that I could serve you’ (II Cor. 11:8).

This practice led to complications in Patrick’s already awkward relations with his fellow clerics in Britain and on the continent. Apart from a few heretics working north of the Danube among the Huns, Patrick was the only one trying to preach to barbarians. This meant that the need to raise money to support new Churches was not taken for granted as it is today, and when Patrick asked for sums over and above normal living expenses, people were sceptical. Much of the information we have from Patrick about how he lived in Ireland is the result of his attempts in the Confession to assure his readers that he was not having an easy time at their expense.

This scepticism, combined with the uncertainty of life in Ireland must have made for great hardship at times, but he was reconciled to this. ‘I know perfectly well that poverty and misfortune suit me better than riches or pleasure’ (Conf. 55). He came to depend solely on God who would forewarn ‘even me, poor wretch that I am, of many things by a divine message’ (Conf. 35).

Isolation and loneliness
In the midst of all this, his work was certainly bearing fruit but with this success came an added burden. At one point in the Confession, he speaks of a desire to visit his family and ‘the Christian community in Gaul, but I am bound by the Spirit who testifies to me that, if I do so, He will mark me out as guilty, and I am afraid of wasting the labour I have begun’ (Conf. 43).

Perhaps Patrick should have shown greater confidence in his converts and his helpers and fulfiled his desire to return to his roots for a while, but then maybe they did genuinely depend on his presence and his encouragement. It was, after all, a young and fragile Church which may have needed the constant support of a powerful, charismatic figure in its early years. He might also have been reluctant to return to Britain and Gaul, in spite of his desire to do so, for fear that his opponents would arrange things so that he would be prevented from going back to Ireland.

This sense of isolation from his fellow clerics would have been heightened by his memory of the occasion when his closest friend betrayed him. Given the solitary existence of Patrick’s adolescence as a slave, the lack of common experience with his fellow students in Gaul and his unusual desire to preach the Gospel among barbarian unbelievers, this betrayal of a treasured friendship must have left a deep wound. Add to this the persecution of the Irish who resisted him and the inevitable adulation of his converts, the overall picture is of a man who had very little in his life by way of ordinary, human companionship. Anyone who lives under such pressures can easily end up as a lonesome, hollow, gesticulating figure whose whole life is a performance.

Telling the painful truth
No doubt Patrick was something of a showman but he must also have been a man of deep affection to have had the kind of impact he had. It was this warmth which kept vanity at a distance and which enabled him to speak with disarming honesty about a more intimate struggle which was certainly rooted in the pain of loneliness. ‘The hostile flesh is forever dragging me towards death, that is, towards the satisfaction of unlawful desires, and I realise that I did not lead a life as perfect as other believers. But I confess it to the Lord and I do not blush in His sight because I am not telling lies’ (Conf. 44).

Patrick’s desire to tell the truth about himself is a sign that he was at home with his own wounds. His strength lay in openly admitting his weakness before a God who cared for him. He must often have read with gratitude these words of Saint Paul:

I am most happy, then, to be proud of my weaknesses in order to feel the protection of Christ’s power over me. I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions and difficulties for Christ’s sake. For when I am weak, then I am strong (II Cor. 12:9-10).