The memorial of St. Patrick and the Solemnity of St. Joseph always are celebrated during the season of Lent, and in the waning days of the winter season. This week we celebrate these two saints, Patrick today, Joseph on Tuesday. The Breastplate of St. Patrick is traditionally associated with him in the fifth century as he sought divine protection in his mission.
I first learned of the poem “Limbo” when it was recited by a priest from the Archdiocese of New York during his homily for St. Joseph Day, 19 March, 1995. The poem muses on the experience of those who died before the Messiah and awaited his redemption. Most notable among them – his foster father.
St. Patrick Breastplate
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’s birth 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 judgment of the doomed.
I arise today. Through the strength of the love of the cherubim, in obedience of angels, in the service of archangels, in the hope of resurrection to meet with reward, in the prayers of patriarchs, in the predictions of prophets, in the preaching of the apostles, in the faith of confessors, in the innocence of holy virgins, in the deeds of righteous men.
I arise today. Through the strength of heaven, the light of the sun, the radiance of the moon, the splendor of fire, the speed of lightning, the swiftness of wind, the depth of the sea, the stability of the earth, the 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 shield to protect me, God’s host to save me from snares of devils, from temptation of vices, from everyone who shall wish me ill, afar and near.
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 when I lie down, Christ when I sit down, Christ when I arise, Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me, Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me, Christ in every eye that sees me, Christ in every ear that hears me.
I arise today. Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity, through a belief in the Threeness, through confession of the Oneness of the Creator of creation.
Limbo – Sr. Mary Ada
The ancient greyness shifted suddenly and thinned like mist upon the moors before a wind, an old, old prophet lifted a shining face and said: “He will be coming soon. The Son of God is dead; he died this afternoon.
A murmurous excitement stirred all souls. They wondered if they dreamed – save one old man who seemed not even to have heard.
And Moses standing, hushed them all to ask if any had a welcome song prepared, If not, would David take the task? And if they cared could not the three young children sing the Benedicite, the canticle of praise they made when God kept them from perishing in the fiery blaze?
A breath of spring surprised them, stilling Moses’ words. No one could speak, remembering the first fresh flowers, the little singing bird. Still others thought of fields new ploughed or apple trees all blossomed-boughed. Or some, the way a dried bed fills with water laughing down green hills. The fisherfolk dreamed of the foam on bright blue seas. The one old man who had not stirred remembered home.
And there he was splendid as the morning sun and fair as only God is fair. And they, confused with joy, knelt to adore seeing that he wore five crimson stars he never had before.
No canticle at all was sung. None toned a psalm or raised a greeting song. A silent man alone of all that throng found tongue — Not any other.
Close to his heart when the embrace was done, Old Joseph said, “How is your Mother, how is your Mother, Son?”