ByMarch 15, 2017
By Shawn Sanford Beck on March 15th, 2017
Nestled in the liturgically purple lenten desert is a tiny green shard of resurrection.
Like a verdant weed sprouting up in the newly-ploughed spring garden mud, the feast day of blessed Patrick feels like it should belong to the Paschal season, rather than the penitential 40 days which precede it. I’m drawn to St. Patrick’s Day as a parable: a tiny, homely hologram of the power of the Spirit to break in where she is not expected, an anticipatory interruption.