Happy Saint Patrick’s Day


Today is the Feast Day of Saint Patrick, commemorating the day of his death in AD 461.

I’ll admit, when I was growing up, the only thing I knew about St. Patrick’s Day was that we were supposed to wear green. And even that was challenged. Some Protestants started a contrarian movement to wear orange instead. Because, St. Patrick was, ya know, Catholic.

Well, Saint Patrick died more than a thousand years before the Reformation, so he was as Christian as any other Christian of that day—not Catholic and not Protestant.

According to his own writings, he was born into a wealthy Romano-British home. Both his father and grandfather were active in the Church. At sixteen Patrick was kidnapped and taken as a slave to Gaelic Ireland. During the six years he served in that pagan land, he became a Christian, eventually escaped, and returned home.

Patrick then became a priest and some years later decided to return to Ireland as a missionary. He spent a number of years in northern Ireland, confronting druids and leading thousands to Christ.

Green became associated with Patrick because of his connection with Ireland, known for its lush, green landscape. In addition, in the 1640s the Irish Catholic Confederation adopted a flag with a field of green.

The shamrock, also green and also a symbol associated with St. Patrick’s Day, according to legend was an object the missionary used to teach the pagans about the trinity.

Some places still hold St. Patrick Day parades today, and other such festivities, but perhaps the other thing most associated with the day is drinking. There’s a reasonable explanation behind that, too. Patrick was celebrated internationally as early as the tenth century. By the 1600s the Catholic church included his day on the liturgical calendar.

However Lenten restrictions on eating and drinking alcohol conflicted with a feast, so they were lifted for the day. Hence, eating and drinking on St. Patrick’s Day, particularly in excess, became something similar to Mardi Gras.

To be honest, I’m a little sad that so much has been lost about St. Patrick. The celebrations and the day itself have so little to do with a young, twenty-something slave coming to grips with his need for Christ, and eventually returning to the land of his captivity to share the gospel with the very people who had caused his suffering.

It’s a true story of redemption and forgiveness, much more powerful than wearing green and drinking oneself into a stupor.

I have to wonder how a person becomes so well-known that strangers down through the centuries want to celebrate his life. St. Patrick must have endeared himself to the Irish people. And the Irish had occasion to spread throughout Europe and beyond. Like so many immigrants, they took their culture with them. At least that’s what occurred in America when the Irish immigrants increased dramatically in the 1800s.

All that aside, why don’t we have an Apostle Paul Day? Or more recently a Corrie ten Boom Day or a Jim Eliot Day? These people suffered for their faith, made an impact for Christ beyond their small world, influenced people far and near.

So why Patrick?

Only God knows. My hope is that St. Patrick’s Day will be a reminder, to me at least, of the power of the gospel, of the value of unselfish and sacrificial service. May his day become a beacon of light today into the pagan world, even as his missionary endeavors were when he first shared Christ with a land under druid influence.

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Published in: on March 17, 2017 at 6:14 pm  Comments (2)  
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What I Wish I Were Thankful For


Amy_Carmichael_with_children2I wish I were thankful for trials. I know James says we are to count them as joy. I know that trials produce endurance and end up shaping us into the likeness of Jesus Christ. And I’m thankful for the trials I’ve gone through that are over, not just because I survived them, but because I see God working in my life because of them.

But I’m not a fan of trials. I don’t eagerly long for or look forward to the next one or the one after that. I’d much rather hear good news and have things go my way.

I’d rather see the US experience a great revival. I’d rather see the health of the people I love improve. I’d rather get a big book contract. I’d rather my church had a perfect staff and perfect congregants and did ministry perfectly.

It would be so much easier to be thankful, wouldn’t it?

But the reality is, I’m not perfect, the US may not see a revival, my family and friends will struggle with health issues and one day die, my church doesn’t have perfect people at any position, and I may never see that big contract.

So what?

Is God greater if everything goes the way I want it to or is He the same, whether I suffer or not?

This is a critical question, because thanksgiving can’t depend on what we have. If I have plenty, I’m thankful and if I have less, I’m not? If that were true, what would be the line of demarcation indicating when we needed to be thankful and when we could start complaining?

So if thanksgiving isn’t about “counting our blessings, naming them one by one,” what is it?

I suggest it is above all a focus on who God is.

Recently I heard a poem entitled “Flame Of God” written by Amy Carmichael, a missionary to India who opened, then ran an orphanage for fifty-five years. The poem is such a rich, reverent piece, I think it gains strength by repetition. The point for this post is that Amy Carmichael clearly saw God in a way that made her want to give Him her all.

She wouldn’t have created a thanksgiving list that included stuff that made life easy or comfortable. She’d thank God for Himself, His word, prayer, His redemption. But she’s mostly thank Him for the privilege of serving Him, for the opportunity to give her life to care for the least and lost.

When asked once what missionary life was like, she wrote back saying simply, “Missionary life is simply a chance to die.” (Wikipedia)

The words of “Flame Of God” inspire me and convict me at the same time. Above all, they make me want to see God the way Amy Carmichael did.

Flame Of God

From prayer that asks that I may be
Sheltered from winds that beat on Thee,
From fearing when I should aspire,
From faltering when I should climb higher
From silken self, O Captain, free
Thy soldier who would follow Thee.

From subtle love of softening things,
From easy choices, weakenings,
(Not thus are spirits fortified,
Not this way went the Crucified)
From all that dims Thy Calvary
O Lamb of God, deliver me.

Give me the love that leads the way,
The faith that nothing can dismay
The hope no disappointments tire,
The passion that will burn like fire;
Let me not sink to be a clod;
Make me Thy fuel, Flame of God

Suffering is a part of life. I don’t think it’s wrong for the sick to pray for healing or the unemployed, for a job. I think it’s good to pray for God’s comfort in the face of grief. But should I pray for “softening things” or for “easy choices”? I think too often that’s what I do.

What I want to do instead is learn to use suffering for an occasion to thank God—for His presence, His strength, and whatever else He shows me. I’m most often mindful of His omniscience—that the things which surprise me, are no surprise to Him. That He knew all along what would happen and what I’d need. And of course that reminds me how trustworthy He is.

I don’t know that I’ll ever have the spiritual maturity Amy Carmichael displayed when she wrote “Make me Thy fuel, Flame of God.” But I’m convinced thanking God, no matter where He puts me or what He takes me through, draws me into a deeper relationship with Him.

Published in: on November 12, 2015 at 6:34 pm  Comments (4)  
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