Wearing Black on St. Patrick's Day

I know it's the custom to wear green (except for a friends I've known who wear orange), but I wear black.

Ostensibly, this holiday is to honor St. Patrick for "driving the snakes out of Ireland". That may have been the original intent of the Irish who've been transplanted to America when they created it as a way to remember their homeland.

What's happened since is the idea that everybody's honorary Irish on St. Patrick's Day, which basically becomes an excuse for people to be drunk and disorderly in public - even those who normally have more sense.

As an Irish person, I resent the idea that "drunk and disorderly" is the defining characteristic of the Irish. Somehow the rich cultural and literary tradition of the Irish gets missed. I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised at that, considering the effort the English put into wiping it out. For generations, it was illegal to speak Gaelic or play the harp. To do so could get you jailed or killed.

But that's not why I wear black. I wear it to honor the serpents of wisdom - the symbol of the old faith that was driven underground by Christianity. That's right, I said driven underground, not driven out. The wonderful Celtic interlacing that permeates Irish Christian symbols is from the old faith, representing the interconnectedness of all things. Why do you think there are so many serpents in the Book of Kells? Many of the Irish saints are simply translations of the old elemental spirits that we worshipped. We didn't go away; we just learned how to hide - more or less in plain sight.

Slainte!