In my previous article, I reflected on the nature of civilizations: how they emerge, what they are built upon, and why they fall. I specifically examined the story of the fall of the Roman Empire. While it is difficult for historians to identify a single point in time when the decline began, various cultural, moral, and economic factors interweaved to ripen the moment for Rome to fall. And fall it did, ushering in a two hundred year period known as the Dark Ages. While the Middle Ages themselves span a period of one thousand years, many of which were full of learning and insight, the first few centuries after Rome’s fall can fairly be characterized as a step backward. Roads became unsafe, public works such as the sewage system went into disrepair, and libraries were disregarded if not burned to the ground.
And yet, the Dark Ages may have been dark for some, but they were not dark for all. When Alaric, King of the Visagoths, crossed the Rhine and sacked Rome, signaling the beginning of the end of Roman imperial dominance, an unexpected spark of civilization was fanned into flame in an unexpected place—Ireland. While literacy declined across the Roman Empire through barbarian expansion, it was the Irish who saved, or at least helped save, civilization. How could this be? It all started with a man named Patricius, also known as St. Patrick.
Patrick, Apostle of Ireland
Patrick was a middle-class Roman Brit who planned on living a normal life. It was a major surprise then on the fateful day that he was kidnapped on Britain’s western shores by Irish pirates and become a shepherd’s slave for the next six years, from age 16 to 22. He suffered major beatings and starvation. He lost out on the education his friends would receive. He learned what it meant to suffer without hope. That is, until the fateful day that God rescued him. According to his self-penned Confessio, with copies dating back to the 8th century, a miraculous ship appeared one day and led by a vision from heaven, he managed to escape and return to his homeland.
Can you imagine? The freedom he experienced after six years a slave must have been incredible. Finally, he can get back on with his life in Britain. But interestingly, he chooses a different path. Instead and inexplicably, he decides to return to Ireland, this time not as a slave, but as a missionary. He became ordained as a bishop and returned to Ireland, the land of his captors, to bring them the gospel.
Now, there are many myths about Patrick in his effort to evangelize the Irish, many of which could very well be true. Did he fight off pagan priests in a wild west showdown of magic and power over the elements? I’m not sure. Did he teach the Irish about the doctrine of the Trinity using the three leaves of a shamrock? We don’t know (though imagine if he used a rock–I can’t think of a surer way to unitarianism!).
But we know this. The island was transformed by this man’s courageous service and ultimately God Himself. Over the next 300 years or so, during the so-called Golden Age of Ireland, over 200 churches were planted, an estimated 100,000 Irish men and women came to the faith. Slavery was abolished and ancient Celtic practices of violence and human sacrifice all but came to an end. While 1,000 miles away Rome was moving from peace to unrest, the opposite was the case in Ireland.
The Spread of Libraries
But I have not yet explained how the Irish saved civilization. Sure, Ireland may have been preserved, but what about the rest of Europe? When Rome fell, the inhabitants of the region were not as fortunate: an entire library of classical literature was nearly lost. Homer, Plato, Demosthenes, Herodotus, Virgil, and Cicero. Lost. A thousand years of ideas about society, virtue, faith, and citizenship gone. The precious gift of literacy all but disappeared.
And yet, God in his providence, would use Irish monks to save it. While libraries burned on the Apennine Peninsula, they were built on the Emerald Isle. When monks and scholars fled the barbarian violence of the Goths and Vandals, they brought their texts to Ireland. There Irish monks fastidiously copied the texts, wrote commentaries, opened schools, and a renaissance of learning was born. Over the next few hundred years, Irish monasteries would pop up all over Ireland, Britain, and soon back to continental Europe. Eventually, literacy, learning, and confidence began to rise again in Europe, notably with Charlemagne and his prized teacher Alcuin. Western civilization, resting on the edge of a knife, was saved. Today there are decorated Irish manuscripts from the early medieval period that are the great jewels of libraries in England, France, Switzerland, Germany, Sweden, and Italy, bearing witness to this amazing yet forgotten story.
Our Cultural Moment
We all feel the angst of our present times. While it is refreshing to live on the other side of the pandemic and the division it caused, we can sense that the tension is here to stay. As I write this article, Roe v. Wade has been overturned, sparking both celebration and anger. Meanwhile, inflation is rearing its ugly head, the Russia-Ukraine war continues, and the tenacity of the election year grows fiercer by the day.
With these kinds of issues swirling around us, it is natural for people to find ways to cope. These methods range from healthy to dangerous. For example, exercise can be a great way to relieve stress and clear one’s mind. So can picking up new hobbies, like keeping a garden or playing a sport. Sadly, of course, some people turn to less healthy methods, such as food, drink, or sexual addiction.
A growing trend I have seen people turn to for respite from the pressure of our current times is the screen. While the statistics vary, it safe to estimate that Americans spend anywhere from 7-10 hours on a screen per day. This includes cell phone usage, checking email, watching the news, and streaming shows (most often through services like Netflix or DisneyPlus). While it is outside the scope of this article to explore the neurological effects of this trend, I do want to register a concern nonetheless. In tense times like these, not unlike those in the wake of the fall of the Roman Empire, we do not need more distraction. We need meaning. Our souls do not need more entertainment; they need engagement with the goodness and beauty of the world. Most importantly, of course, we need spiritual connection with our Creator God and to experience the grace available to use through union with Christ.
Cancel Netflix, Save Civilization
To wrap up this series, inspired by Thomas Cahill’s How the Irish Saved Civilization, I was reminded and inspired by the power of books, specifically the Great Books. These books have been passed down throughout the ages and organically vetted for truth, depth, and insight. They serve as the foundation of civilization, both locally and globally. The West has its canon as does the East. My encouragement, then, for all of us seeking to kindle a renaissance of education is this: go to the library and read great books. Walk in the way of the Irish, put down your screens, and get lost in the world of word-encoded ideas. Ponder the good, true, and beautiful. Think deeply about God, humanity, and the created order. Cancel your Nexflix subscription and save civilization.
