Yes, it is long, but stay with me. To use a biblical phrase, fear not. This hymn is so very rich, pulling together and articulating many elements of our faith, it would be a shame to reject it out of hand. It is a pillar of our Anglican tradition, and a must for a service on Trinity Sunday or Saint Patrick’s Day. This month, we will sing it only on Trinity Sunday. It beautifully demonstrates the Celtic tradition (to which we Anglicans are indebted) of seeing God, not as apart from us, but interwoven into all we do, and all we are — a constant awareness of God throughout all our lives, including everyday events and activities
This text oozes with richness; spiritual and theological. But there is also Mrs. Alexander’s beautiful poetry. I love to read this text out loud, slowly, so that the words and phrases have time to sink in. The words themselves feel good in your mouth and in your soul. If we truly pay attention, enter into, engage with, and actually pray, this hymn, it is very powerful. It will bless you in ways innumerable, and it won’t even feel long!
First, a word about the title. Our hymnbook lists hymns by first line, thus, I Bind Unto Myself Today. However, many people refer to this hymn by the title of the prayer itself, Saint Patrick’s Breastplate. This prayer, attributed to St. Patrick (5th Century), asks God’s help and guidance throughout our lives. We often hear, and say, that our faith is our protection. This hymn spells out what it means to be children of God, and under the protection of the Almighty.
The journey from Saint Patrick’s 5th Century prayer to a hymn in our Hymnal 1982 is an interesting one. It was first published in the 11th-century in the Liber Hymnorum, a hymn collection in Dublin, although fragments of it date to the 9th century. It was translated into English in the 19th Century. The Dean of the Chapel Royal at Dublin Castle asked Cecil Frances Alexander (probably best known to us for Once in Royal David’s City, H1982 167, and All Things Bright and Beautiful, H1982 405) to write a metrical version of the English translation for the 1891 Irish Church Hymnal. Her hymn was first sung on Saint Patrick’s Day 1889 throughout all Ireland. It also appeared in that grand English hymnal, Hymns Ancient and Modern, in 1891, and then in the The English Hymnal in 1906. Thereafter, it made its way across the ocean, albeit losing two stanzas, appearing in our Hymnal 1940, and now in our Hymnal 1982.
This is a special type of prayer, called a lorica, or breastplate prayer, to be sung while dressing or arming for battle. The story goes that Saint Patrick and his monks were on their way to Tara to preach the Gospel when they were ambushed by the Irish king and his Druid followers. Saint Patrick sang this prayer, and its protection was so great that his company appeared to their would-be attackers to be a herd of deer, which, of course, spared them from being attacked. This is the reason this prayer is sometimes called “The Deer’s Cry.”
The tune is easy to sing, but it also has a grand solemnity befitting such important words. Our hymnal gives the tune name as ST. PATRICK’S BREASTPLATE, which is a setting of an Irish tune by that wonderful English Cathedral composer, Charles Villiers Stanford (1852-1924), who was bon in Dublin. In fact, Stanford uses two different tunes. Stanza 6 is a completely different tune, DEIRDRE, another Irish tune set by Stanford. The unusual structure of this hymn requires an unusual musical setting. Stanzas 2-5 and 8 use the full ST. PATRICK’S BREASTPLATE tune. Stanza 1 uses only the first half of it because it is only half as long as the other stanzas. Stanza 6 is a different meter, and therefore requires a completely different tune. (Try singing stanza 6 to the tune of the other stanzas. It is impossible!)
The title of the prayer itself, St. Patrick’s Breastplate, speaks of protection. It calls to mind St. Paul’s admonitions in I Thessalonians 5, and in Ephesians chapter 6: Put on the whole armor of God, that ye may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places. Wherefore take unto you the whole armor of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand. Stand therefore, having your loins girt about with truth, and having on the breastplate of righteousness; And your feet shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace; Above all, taking the shield of faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked. And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.
This prayer is a promise to put on that whole armor of God. Except for stanza 6, every stanza begins with the promise to “bind” to ourselves that armor. In stanza 1, we begin by invoking the Trinity. The remaining stanzas get specific, describing that armor, piece by piece. Stanza 2 speaks of the power of faith, and recites major elements of the Nicene Creed and Apostles’ Creed. Stanza 3 calls to mind the power of love, and the faith and works of our forebears. Stanza 4 talks of the awe and beauty of our natural world. Stanza 5 speaks volumes about the power of God.
In stanza 6, we ask for help in keeping all the promises we have made, that is, for Christ to be with us in every possible way. And again, we spell out what that might mean. This stanza, in particular, feels much like a Celtic knot, with Christ’s presence interwoven in, around, and through our lives, reminding us that we are encompassed by his presence and love. When I sing “Christ beneath me,” I always think of Psalm 18:36 (Thou shalt make room enough under me for to go that my footsteps shall not slide.). “Christ in mouth of friend and stranger” reminds me of The Rule of Saint Benedict 53:1 (All guests who present themselves are to be welcomed as Christ, for he himself will say: I was a stranger and you welcomed me (Matthew 25:35)). The tune of stanza 6 is light and bouncy. In fact, it sounds positively skippy. Maybe that is to remind us of Jesus’ words that his yoke is easy and his burden is light.
Stanza 7 launches a solemn recapitulation of our overall promise to bind unto ourselves “the strong name of the Trinity.” It restates the omniscience of God, and ends with a grand doxology. It is a combination of incantation, fight song, and creed. What better way to end Trinity Sunday, and to be ready to go out to do the work God has given us to do!
— Carolyn Parmenter, Music Director
