St. Patrick's Cathedral

For a time, when I was new in this country, I lived about two blocks away from St. Patrick’s Cathedral. St. Pat’s is a mammoth historic site that just about every tourist tours when they visit Dublin. But as with all things that are right in our own back yards, I’d never been arsed to check it out.

Well, my sad DFA Guide-reading friend, I’ve done something for your benefit. I recently put on some old Yankee-bought clothes and played tourist for the nice summer day that was in it.

Stretch your the legs for a couple blocks from either Christchurch Cathedral or St. Stephens’ Green. The walk to St. Pat’s is just long enough to deserve a nice sit-down on the park benches of the gardens that adjoin the beautiful stone Cathedral. There’s a couple of well-tended flowerbeds, a few fountains and expanses of grass. On this very spot, seventeen centuries ago, it’s said St. Patrick his very self baptized Irish coverts into Christianity. Today, neighborhood kids of eight or ten conspired on the grass, smoking. But, they were well dressed and had bikes. They weren’t in poverty. This has traditionally been quite a poor neighborhood. Today, though, the several rows of Corpo housing are brand-new townhouses which are nicer than the gaff I lived in, around on New Bride Street. The Corpo housefronts- toward where the little mischief-makers pedaled off, momentarily- feature plaques depicting scenes from Gulliver’s Travels.

The dude who wrote that book, you’ll soon learn, was the Dean of this church from 1713 to 1745. Stepping into the Cathedral, Jonathan Swift is still all over this place. They really do make the most of this claim to fame. As he was a courageous man, humanitarian, and total wiseass, I for one welcomed the chance to learn more about Swift’s life and works. I hadn’t even realized that he was a member of the clergy, for instance. But sure enough he was, and the protests behind the humor of his stories certainly scuppered his career in the Church. It’s a tragedy that the man’s works have been Disney-fied to meaninglessness.

Swift and his wife are buried right there in the church, and, damn! They sure aren’t lonely. At first glance, you see, St. Pat’s looks like any familiar church. But then the realization dawns that these statues are not of saints, and the stained glass windows don’t display Bible scenes. These are memorials to Lord Governors and viceroys, whose glories are described in a self-guided tour brochure. St. Patrick’s isn’t a Catholic church, I hadn’t realized: it’s Church of Ireland. (The local branch of the Anglican Church of England) Marble plaques on the walls stand in testimony to parishioners who fought and died in the battles of the British Empire. There are the ceremonial helms of knights, and swords, and banners by the dozen. Within these walls waits the solemn pageantry of the royal crown.

It’s all horribly British.

(Before winning independence in 1922, Ireland was a province of the United Kingdom.)

Taking a break to let some of the history digest, I took a seat. This place needed some thought: it’s a virtual duplicate of Canterbury or one of those High Anglican churches that the Queen attends, over in England. (Well, perhaps a bit smaller, and distinctly shabbier, than that.) With rank reflected in a hierarchy of seating arrangements, ornate décor, British memorials and battle flags, it’s a striking departure from the country that I’ve grown to know in my years here. "Tens of thousands of tourists go home, after a few days in Dublin, with the impression that is Ireland’s identity!" I was amazed.

Gradually, though, a different notion dawned. Prominently displayed were memorials to the first and fourth presidents of the Irish Republic- both Protestants. The Irish flag, itself, is displayed: green representing the Catholics, orange for the Protestants, and white, for peace, between them. All this Anglican, ascendancy stuff is, indeed, a part of Irish culture and history. It’s one portion of it. I hadn’t even thought about that. And St. Patrick’s is not a museum: it’s an active church. There are services here, and an active music school, and no doubt weddings and baptisms and funerals. On this tourist visit, I learned a little multicultural lesson myself.

I wandered a bit more and, sure enough, found a statue of Ol’ Pat himself. This was an ancient carving, found among the rubble. It’s thought to date from one of the early churches on this spot- maybe as old as the fifth century AD. There is History here, with a capital H.

So, all told: St. Patrick’s Cathedral is a place with a couple stories to uncover. I didn’t tell you about the archbishop who taught dogs to climb trees, or the one feller buried here who is NOT a member of the upper crust (good on ya, Swift!) because it’s worth discovering those on your own.

Besides, visiting churches: isn’t that what every guidebook says to do? No matter what city: "Go see this cathedral. It’s got arches of some wacky style that you vaguely remember from your Art Appreciation class. There’ll be other tourists there. You’ll love it."

- Added to the DFA Guide, September 2002.

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