March 5 is the feast day of a saint whom later tradition claimed was the earliest in Ireland, pre-dating the arrival of Saint Patrick. This challenge to the primacy of our national apostle caused some discomfort to the nineteenth-century writers on the Irish saints, but in his account of Saint Ciarán of Saighir below, Father Albert Barry sidesteps the issue completely. Instead, he concentrates on the other aspects of the hagiographical record- the saint's asceticism, his miracles, his role as one of the 'Twelve Apostles of Ireland' and his holy death:
SAINT CIARAN
was born at Fintract Clearagh (Cape Clear)
in the year 446. “He
was the firstborn
of the heaven-loving Saints of
Erin”. His father was
Luaigne, and his mother was Liadhan of Corca-Laighde (Carbery). Angels watched over her at his
birth. He grew
in holiness as in years, and won the love of all.
Whilst he was
seated one day near the
seashore, he saw a hawk
swoop down on a little
bird sitting in its nest
in a hole of a rock,
and bear it aloft in its claws.
Ciaran
was very sad on
account of what
had befallen the
bird, and prayed to God
for its safety. The
hawk suddenly flew
back, and laid
the little bird fluttering
and panting at his feet.
He took it gently in
his hand and put it again in
its nest.
When he
had grown up to manhood he set out
for Rome, “for” as
an
ancient writer says, “it
had been made
known to him that he
should there get holy learning and
become a Bishop." He spent many years at
Rome, leading a very holy life
and then went back to
his birth-place. He
preached to
his clansmen and
built a church on the
island of Clearagh.
He went
soon afterwards, at the bidding
of Saint Patrick, to Saighir (King's Co.), and made his home in a lonely wood
on
the bank
of a
small stream. He built a hut of
wattles interwoven
with twigs and
smeared with mud,
and thatched
it with
leaves
and grass.
He dwelt
among wolves and deer.
His
food was
a little
barley bread and herbs
eaten only at sunset, and his
drink was
water from the well. He slept
on
the ground.
Disciples flocked about him and strove to live a holy life like him. The wood, hitherto filled with the howling
of wild
beasts, was
now filled with the sacred songs of men like angels. They wore coarse
sackcloth, slept
on
the ground,
watched, prayed,
and fasted. They
at one
time listened
to the
wise words that flowed from
the
heart of
their holy
teacher: they
then went forth to the fields and
worked from
love of Jesus Christ who once
had worked at Nazareth; they again
sang hymns of praise to God in their
little wooden Oratory, They were poor in earthly goods, but rich in heavenly goods, and every
day laid up for themselves treasures in heaven.
Ciaran wrote a Rule
for them, and led them
on the way of
perfection both by
word and example.
Ciaran often
saw angels hovering over the monastery. He also
worked many miracles. Saint Patrick came
one day followed by some chieftains. There was a
dearth of food, but the
little that was there
wonderfully increased through the prayer
of Ciaran and the
goodness of God.
Ciaran went
to the monastery of Saint Iltud,
at Bangor in Wealhas (Wales) in the
year 500. 'The monastery was built
in an
open fertile plain;
there was a wood thickly
planted with trees,
where many wild beasts lived
and a very lovely stream flowed
through
it.’ He then went
to a small island in the river Wye,
and built a monastery there.
Saint Samson came with other holy
men to dwell with him
in that hallowed spot, and
was
welcomed by
him as an angel from heaven. Ciaran left
it under
his care, and
then went back to Saighir.
Whilst he was at Saighir
a war broke out between the Monarch of Ireland and
the King of Caiseal, and the two armies met
near Saighir. There was near
to it only a little stream
between
them. Ciaran went to the
leaders in turn and
besought them not
to fight, but his efforts
were
unavailing; they
would not listen to
him. He then betook himself to prayer, and God heard
his prayer, and the Prince
of peace hindered these bloodthirsty men from slaughtering each other.
The little stream suddenly became so swollen, that they
could not fight. The Monarch of Ireland withdrew on seeing the
miracle, and the Leader of the
army of Mumha (Munster) came to Saighir, and the
holy Abbot welcomed him
and
made a great feast
for him and for his soldiers.
Some harpers
of the King of Caiseal were slain whilst on their way through Muscraidhe-Tire (Co. Tipperary). The King,
unaware of what had befallen them, but uneasy on account of their
long absence, instead of consulting soothsayers,
sent word to Ciaran,
and begged him
to let him know
what had befallen his harpers. Ciaran sent
word back saying,
“Your harpers have been slain, and their bodies
have been thrown into a
lake in Muscraidhe-Tire.” The King went at once
to the place, and
saw the harps hanging on the trees hard-by. He then searched for the
bodies, and at length found them through the prayers of Ciaran. The lake
has ever since been called
"the lake of the harpers.”
He brought
a woman to life by
his prayers. Eathyll,
a woman living at Leim (Ballybritt), fell one day from a
height, and died
soon afterwards. Ciaran prayed
to God to bring her back to life,
and his earnest prayer was
heard. She came back to life through
the goodness of God, and the
wonderful faith
of the holy Bishop.
Ciaran wished to become a
disciple of
Saint Finnian, although he was now
old, and had Saint Odhran, Saint Carthaig, and other holy
men as his disciples at Saighir. He had
so great a thirst for the
knowledge of the
holy Books that when he heard of
the great learning of Saint Finnian, he set
off to his monastery at Cluain-Iraird and sat at
his feet as
if he were only a young
disciple. He
remained there for
many months and then went
back
to his own monastery. His holiness shone out more
brightly as he grew old.
His last days at length drew nigh,
and his holy friend Saint Finnian hastened to Saighir to be with
him, and to speak to
him for the last
time.
Many Bishops,
and his own Monks stood silently
around
him. He said to
them, “My
brethren, pray with me to God that
I may not stand alone before His judgment seat, but that
His
holy Saints and Angels may be there
with me: pray that my path
to the King may
not be through darkness, but that
His smile may
welcome me.” He then gave his blessing
to the Monks, and said to them, “My children, the Lord now
calls Me and
I fear for you:
I entrust you to God
and to Carthaig: uphold piety:
love your monastery:
beware
of the son of perdition, that your days of blessedness may not
be shortened, A time shall come when
wickedness shall
prevail:
churches shall
be pulled down, and monasteries
be made into deserts: truth changed into falsehood, and holy Baptism be corrupted. Every one then will seek not his
own,
but what does not belong
to him.” He then went
with them to the monastic
church and offered
up the great Sacrifice.
He got the holy Anointing, and
then begged the
brethren to bury him in a
hidden
spot known only to themselves.
Ciaran, having won a victory
of abstinence and penance, and overcome the devil and the
world, breathed his last breath, and
angels came to meet his
soul and lead it to
God. He died at midnight, March 5th,
in the year 540. His body was wrapped in linen, and hymns and psalms were sung over him for
seven days.
"His
heart was chaste and bright:
his soul
was white and spotless
like the
foam of the sea,
or the
whiteness of
a swan in the sunshine.”
—Ancient Irish Writer.
The large
pillar-stone on which Ciaran had
carved a cross still stands
on the shore of
a small inlet of the
sea at Clearagh. A spring
of fresh water now
called Saint Ciaran's well, gushes
forth near it and
mingles with the
tide.
Saint Ciaran's feast-day is kept March
5th.
Rev. Albert Barry, Lives of Irish Saints (Dublin, n.d.),
Content Copyright © Omnium Sanctorum Hiberniae 2012-2015. All rights reserved.
Rev. Albert Barry, Lives of Irish Saints (Dublin, n.d.),
Content Copyright © Omnium Sanctorum Hiberniae 2012-2015. All rights reserved.
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