St. Patrick is one of those saints most people recognize, but few people really know.
He wasn’t Irish by birth. He was actually taken there as a slave when he was a teenager. For years he lived alone in the fields, tending sheep. It was there in suffering and loneliness that his faith awakened. Patrick later wrote that during that time he would pray constantly. He would pray hundreds of times a day. The hardship stripped everything away until only one thing remained: his dependence on God.
Eventually he escaped slavery and returned home. But years later, after becoming a priest, he felt God calling him back to the very land where he had once been enslaved - back to Ireland; back to the people who had taken everything from him. There he spent the rest of his life preaching Christ.
One of the most famous prayers connected to him is what’s called The Lorica of St. Patrick, sometimes known as St. Patrick’s Breastplate. A lorica was a piece of armor, a breastplate worn in battle.
It’s a prayer of spiritual protection.
A prayer of spiritual awakening.
And it begins with these words:
“I arise today
Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
Through belief in the Threeness,
Through confession of the Oneness
Of the Creator of creation.”
That opening line is powerful. “I arise today.” Not just physically getting out of bed. Spiritually rising. Awakening again to God. In many ways, that’s what Lent is meant to be. A season where we arise again. We return to prayer. We return to repentance. We return to the Lord. Patrick reminds us that we don’t rise by our own strength. We arise through the strength of God.
Later in the prayer he writes:
“I arise today
Through the strength of Christ’s birth and his baptism,
Through the strength of his crucifixion and his burial,
Through the strength of his resurrection and his ascension.”
Notice what Patrick is doing. He is rooting his life in the mysteries of Christ; his birth, his baptism, the carrying of the Cross and his Resurrection. In other words, Patrick understands something deeply Christian: our lives are carried by the life of Jesus; even our struggles. Yes, especially our struggles. This is why Lent focuses so intensely on the Cross. Because the Cross is not just something Jesus endured. It is the place where our lives meet his.
As St. Paul writes:
“I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me.”
—Galatians 2:20 (RSVCE)
Patrick then expands his prayer outward. He calls upon the entire communion of heaven:
“In the prayers of patriarchs,
In preachings of the apostles,
In faiths of confessors,
In innocence of virgins,
In deeds of righteous men.”
He knows he does not walk the Christian life alone. He walks it with the Church; with the saints, with those who have gone before him, and with those praying alongside him. This is one of the quiet gifts of Lent. We are not just individuals trying harder to be holy. We are a people journeying together toward Easter.
Then Patrick reaches the heart of the prayer—the line many people recognize:
“Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me,
Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me…”
It continues like this for several lines.
Christ on my right.
Christ on my left.
Christ when I lie down.
Christ when I sit down.
What Patrick is doing here is beautiful. He is placing Christ everywhere. In every direction. In every moment. In every relationship. Christ surrounding him. Christ filling his life. This is what the spiritual life is meant to become. Not just moments of prayer, but a life permeated by Christ; a life where Christ becomes the air we breathe.
As Scripture says:
“In him we live and move and have our being.”
—Acts 17:28 (RSVCE)
Maybe that is the invitation of this Lenten season: to rediscover this prayer of Patrick; to wake up each day and quietly say:
“I arise today.”
Not in my strength. But in the strength of the Trinity; in the strength of Christ’s Cross.
In the strength of the saints who walk with us, and in the quiet confidence that Christ surrounds us— before us, behind us, above us, within us.
Wherever you are on your Lenten journey today—whether you feel strong in faith or weary in spirit—this prayer reminds us of something simple: you do not walk this road alone. Christ is already there. Before you. Behind you. Within you. Because of that, you can arise again today.