Chapter 7. Slave Again. Through his tears, Patrick prayed as he walked. Please, Father... please, Father, change their hearts. Isn't this the ship? Before he finished his sentence, one of the sailors suddenly shouted to him, "Come on back! We'll take you in good faith, and you can repay us however you're able." His eyes, still wet with tears, Patrick ran to the boat and climbed aboard. "Thank you, Father," he prayed silently.
He was soon hard at work, hoisting the sails, bending his back to the oars, doing whatever was needed. Glancing back, he watched Ireland recede slowly into the mist. "I hope this is the last time I ever see this place," Patrick thought to himself. As the boat moved eastward, the captain and sailors bowed low and began praying to a small wooden figurine of the Celtic god Taranis. They had carried it with them to ensure a safe voyage, so they were bewildered when Patrick didn't join their ritual.
"What's the matter with you?" the captain muttered. "Don't you care whether or not you drown at sea?" "Of course I care," Patrick replied. "But I pray to the one true God who created the land and the sea. I'm speaking of the Father, of the one called Jesus Christ." Filled with the Spirit, Patrick now boldly witnessed to the captain and his crew telling them about the God of love who sent his Son to die for mankind. The sailors only scoffed in return.
Gently tugging his drooping mustache, the captain squinted his eyes and thought for a moment. Finally, he inquired, "Tell me, now, how did a fine Irish lad like yourself come to be a Christian?" "I'm not Irish," Patrick imprudently replied. "I'm Roman. My home is in Britain." "I see," said the captain, his eyes lighting up. "And just what was a Roman youth doing in Ireland?" At that moment, the eyes of all of the crew were fixed on Patrick. He prayed silently for a moment, seeking God's wisdom.
He finally replied, "I was kidnapped six years ago by Irish raiders. They took me from my father's villa and sold me as a slave. I herded sheep as a slave for these past six years. But a little over a week ago, God spoke to me in a dream. He told me to get up and leave, for my ship was ready." Tapping his heel against the deck, Patrick added, "This is the ship he spoke of." At this, the crew broke into laughter. "So this is the ship that will take you to freedom, is it?" the captain asked mockingly.
"Now, isn't it strange that your Christian God didn't let us in on his plans? Unfortunately for you, we're not even sailing for Britain. Furthermore, we don't help slaves run away from Ireland." Staring coldly at Patrick, the captain then finished, "You may be free of your first master, but you're our slave now." This unexpected turn of events sorely tried Patrick's faith. He immediately turned to God in prayer and felt God's reassuring hand.
He had no idea how he would get out of this new predicament, but he was certain that God would be true to his promise. Surely God had not brought him to this ship just to spend the rest of his life as a galley slave. That night, God once again spoke reassuringly to Patrick in a dream. "Do not despair," He said. "You will be with these men for only two months." The next morning ushered in dark and ugly weather, with rain dripping miserably.
For three days, the small ship bobbled up and down the ocean swells, often enshrouded in thick gray fog. On the third day, the sailors sighted the coast of Gaul. They steered for a small cove and then dropped sail. The sail rippled and glided down the mast until finally it lay shapeless and lifeless on the boat's deck. Using the oars, the men guided the boat to the beach. Once they landed, the men thanked Taranis for their safe journey.
A few feet away, Patrick stood with his hands outstretched to heaven, thanking the true God. The sailors quickly set to work unloading the ship's cargo, making Patrick do the lion's share of the labor. Once they dragged the cargo chests up the nearby embankment, they loaded the chests into hand carts. Patrick was given the heaviest cart to push, yet he put his strong back to the cart without complaint. Although the captain would not admit it, apparently their ship had been blown off course, for no town was nearby.
So the men had to camp that night in a field. They forced Patrick to do most of the cooking and other chores. "It was sure good of your God to supply us with a free slave," one of the sailors said mockingly, gnawing a leg of mutton. "He's not such a bad God after all." The other men roared with laughter. Patrick bristled, but then he remembered God's promise. "No, I won't get angry," he said to himself. "I only have to put up with them for two months.
After six years in Ireland, two months shouldn't be so hard to bear." The next day, the men walked some more, making slow time because of the heavy carts they were pushing. The hot sun beat down on them from the cloudless sky. "Look, I see a town in the distance!" one of the men cried. "Unfortunately, it's too far away to reach by night," the captain said. "Let's continue on for a bit longer and then set up camp for the night." By late morning the next day, the weary band reached the small settlement.
Seeing no one in the streets, they knocked at the door of the first house they came to, but no one answered. They tried other houses without success. Frantically, they began calling out, but all they heard were their hollow echoes reverberating through the deserted streets of the town. In desperation, they burst into one of the houses, only to find it was totally bare. They hurriedly darted from room to room, but could find nothing. No food, no fire, no supplies.
They tried other homes, but found they were all the same. The storehouses were empty, and the gardens desolate. No people, no animals. "Where is everyone?" the captain roared. "What sort of trick is this? A whole town that's empty? It can't be." Bewildered and discouraged, the tired and hungry men spent the night there. The next day, they followed the road out of town to try to find another settlement. Here and there, they saw small huts on the hillsides, but they found them similarly deserted.
Tattered and weary, the sailors wandered around the countryside for sixteen days looking for a settlement, but found none. Weak from hunger, they faced almost certain starvation. Finally, in desperation, the captain approached Patrick and pleaded, "Tell me, Christian, you say that your God is great and almighty. I know we've treated you harshly, but we beg you now to forgive us." It was the first time the captain had spoken kindly to Patrick. "Please, pray to your God for us.
As you can see, we're all starving to death. I doubt we'll ever see another human again." "If I were not a Christian, I probably wouldn't forgive you. But our God teaches us that we must forgive everyone, even our enemies." Growing bolder, Patrick continued, "It's not too late for you to believe in Him. However, you must turn around with all your hearts to the true Lord, my God, for indeed nothing is impossible for Him. Why, it wouldn't surprise me if this very day He sent you more food than you can possibly eat.
After all, He owns everything." Patrick then knelt and prayed with the men. As soon as his prayer ended, one of the men yelled, "Look, a herd of pigs coming down the road!" At first, the men stared in disbelief. Then they quickly descended on the unfortunate animals. Although they were weak, the men lost no time in killing quite a number of the pigs. They camped at that spot for two days, eating their fill and recovering their strength.
Although the sailors were not fully converted at this point, they never again ridiculed Patrick or his God. Before they left that site, some of the men found a bee tree full of wild honey. In a gesture of kindness, they brought some of the honey to Patrick. "Patrick," one of the men stammered, feeling somewhat ashamed. "That is your name, isn't it?" "Yes." "Well, me and others want to say that we're sorry for the way we treated you and laughed at your God.
And, uh, well, we just want to say that we'll never make fun of your God again. And, uh, this morning, me and the other men found this bee tree full of honey. Well, we decided that we wanted you to have the first share." With that, the men handed Patrick a bowl of honey. Patrick looked on the men with compassion and smiled. "You know, you really didn't have to do this. I'm not the one who brought you the pigs. It was God. It's Him you owe thanks, not me.
But I do appreciate it." With that, Patrick scooped up some of the honey with a wooden spoon and was about to eat it. "We sacrificed the honey to the sun just so everything would be right," one of the sailors innocently volunteered. Patrick stopped with his spoon in mid-air and then returned the honey to the bowl. "I'm sorry, but I can't eat any of this honey." "But why?" the men asked in astonishment. "Because you sacrificed it to the sun. Why did you do that?
Was it the sun who brought you the pigs?" The sailors stood silently for a moment. Finally, one of them spoke up. "But we have to honor all of the gods, don't we? We believe in your God, Patrick, but we don't want to offend the sun. We've always been taught that honey should be dedicated to the sun. After all, it's the color of liquid sunlight." "My friends, you still have much to learn," Patrick said, shaking his head. "I realize that you were trying to do what you thought was right.
However, you need to understand that there is only one God. You can't worship my God and still worship the sun or Taranis." Once again, the sailors stood there silently, somewhat bewildered. "I guess we have a lot to learn about this God of yours," one of them finally ventured. When the men left, Patrick fell on his knees and prayed. He sensed that Satan had been testing him. "Patrick, Patrick, are you all right? We have some food for you." It was one of the sailors shaking Patrick to wake him.
Patrick slowly sat up. "Yes, I'm all right, thank you. I just spent a miserable night, that's all. Satan attacked me during the night." "Who's Satan?" "Satan is the primary enemy of the one true God. He had been testing me yesterday with the honey that you brought me. He was angry that I didn't eat it." "See, we told you that you should have eaten it," one of the sailors blurted out. By this time, several of the sailors had gathered around. "No, I'm afraid you don't understand.
When we serve the true God, Satan is always angry at us. So it's natural to have him attack us. But God is much stronger. Satan can only do to us what God allows him to do," Patrick patiently explained. "What exactly did this Satan do to you?" one of the men asked. "Well, he fell upon me like a huge rock. My joints suddenly stiffened, and I was unable to move either my arms or my legs. I was in agony.
As I have mentioned, I knew Satan was doing this to me because I had refused to eat the honey that you had sacrificed to the sun. So I cried out with all of my might to Jesus Christ, the Son of the one true God. Immediately, God gave me a vision. In the vision, I saw the sun in the sky. But then the sun fell from the sky down toward me. I cried out again to God, and then instantly I was delivered from Satan's afflictions." Later that day, the sailors cooked and salted as much meat as they could carry.
The next day, they set out once again to find civilization. They wandered another nine days without success. On the tenth day, their provisions once again ran out, and that night they ate the last of their food. "Perhaps your God has delivered us only to let us starve all over again," the captain complained. "Have you lost faith that quickly?" Patrick replied. "I know beyond any doubt that God has not delivered me only to let me starve again.
And in His eagerness to save me, He is no doubt going to save all of you as well." Patrick then found a quiet spot and prayed fervently to God for several hours. The next day, the crew had journeyed only a few hours before they found an inhabited town. The men quickly traded some of their goods for food. "We've been wandering for about a month," the captain told one of the merchants, wolfing down his food as he spoke. "But every town and farm we came to was deserted. What's happened?" "It's the Vandals.
They swept through here not long ago, killing and pillaging. So thousands of people fled in advance of them, leaving entire towns deserted." Once they regained their strength, the sailors traded their remaining Celtic wares for provisions for the return trip, as well as for some of the local goods that would be valued in Ireland. Patrick spent a few more weeks with the men. On the sixtieth day after their departure from Ireland, the sailors let Patrick go, just as God had promised.
From there, Patrick made his way slowly through Gaul, working here and there to sustain himself. When he finally found a church, he fell on his knees and praised God in a loud voice. When he partook of communion that Sunday, he couldn't hold back the tears. "It's been six years since I've been able to worship with a congregation of Christians. I can't tell you how wonderful this is," Patrick joyfully told one of the deacons afterward.
He so enjoyed the company of these newly found brothers and sisters that he had to pry himself away to continue his journey back home. Eventually, Patrick found his way to the coast of Gaul and boarded a boat to Britain. When he spied the rocky coast of Britain, he was so excited that he was tempted to plunge into the water and race the boat to shore. Once the boat had landed, he accompanied a group of fellow passengers as far as London.
He then set off for the west coast of Britain and his village of Bannavem Taburniae. He could hardly contain his excitement as he thought about seeing his parents again. "Won't they be surprised when I knock at their door?" Bannavem Taburniae was still a week's walk away, but Patrick's legs practically danced along. It was so good to be in Britain again. Patrick sang and prayed as he skipped along, feeling certain that the singing birds were sharing in his joy.
The blankets of buttercups made the fields seem more golden and green. A stray dog followed Patrick for several days, and he was glad for the company. When he finally rounded the last hill and feasted his eyes on Bannavem Taburniae, he couldn't hold back the tears. Laughing and crying, he ran the last half-mile home. Sprinting through the narrow, crooked streets, he dashed to his parents' house and banged on the door. However, the female servant who opened the door didn't know him.
"Tell Calpornius and Conchessa that their son Patrick is here," Patrick announced excitedly. Somewhat bewildered, the woman gave the strange message to Patrick's parents. "This must be some cruel joke," Calpornius responded. But he and Conchessa scurried to the door anyway. Flinging it open, they stood there in silence, as at first they didn't recognize their son. Then, with mouths agape, they rushed at him with open arms.
For quite some time, they all stood at the doorway, kissing and embracing one another, weeping profusely. "Oh, the son I thought I would never see again is home. The boy I thought was dead is alive," Conchessa exclaimed jubilantly. Finally, Calpornius ushered his son inside. "Lie down on the couch. You must be tired from your journey," he said. Then, with a clap of his hands and a quick gesture, he directed one of the servants to untie Patrick's sandals.
When the servant knelt down, Patrick gently put his hand on the servant's shoulder and objected. "Please, I mean no offense, but I would rather untie my own sandals." The servant hesitated, not knowing what to do. He glanced first at Calpornius and then at Patrick. Sensing everyone's discomfort, Patrick quickly put them all at ease. With a twinkle in his eye, he remarked with a smile.
"You know, it took me nearly six years to learn to untie my own sandals, but I think I finally got the knack of it." Everybody laughed, and the awkwardness of the situation soon passed. Conchessa then called for food and drink. Scurrying in and out of the kitchen, the servants soon spread a sumptuous meal in front of Patrick. In her hurry, one of the servant girls knocked a tray of bread off of the table. Before she had time to bend down, Patrick quickly leaned over from his couch and picked up the bread for her.
The other servants stared in bewilderment. After his father prayed, Patrick lost no time in enjoying the feast spread before him. Between bites, he described to his parents some of the things that had happened to him during the years he was gone. He told them of his capture, his life as a slave in Ireland, his escape to the coast, his two months with the Irish sailors, and his final journey home. His parents wept softly as Patrick spoke.
It was late at night when Patrick finally finished his tale, saying, "I will never be able to thank God long enough or praise Him loud enough for what He has done for me. At the same time, only an act of God could ever make me set foot in Ireland again."