God's Generals: The Healing Evangelists Order Printed Copy
- Author: Roberts Liardon
- Size: 1.03MB | 271 pages
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About the Book
"God's Generals: The Healing Evangelists" by Roberts Liardon is a comprehensive account of the lives and ministries of some of the most influential healing evangelists in Christian history. This book provides insight into the lives, faith, and impact of individuals such as Oral Roberts, A.A. Allen, Kathryn Kuhlman, and others who played a significant role in spreading the message of healing and restoration through their powerful preaching and miraculous healings. Liardon's engaging narrative offers a powerful exploration of the work of these healing evangelists and their enduring influence on the faith and practice of Christianity.
St. Patrick
St. Patrick, (flourished 5th century, Britain and Ireland; feast day March 17), patron saint and national apostle of Ireland, credited with bringing Christianity to Ireland and probably responsible in part for the Christianization of the Picts and Anglo-Saxons. He is known only from two short works, the Confessio, a spiritual autobiography, and his Letter to Coroticus, a denunciation of British mistreatment of Irish Christians.
Patrick was born in Britain of a Romanized family. At age 16 he was torn by Irish raiders from the villa of his father, Calpurnius, a deacon and minor local official, and carried into slavery in Ireland. He spent six bleak years there as a herdsman, during which he turned with fervour to his faith. Upon dreaming that the ship in which he was to escape was ready, he fled his master and found passage to Britain. There he came near to starvation and suffered a second brief captivity before he was reunited with his family. Thereafter, he may have paid a short visit to the Continent.
The best known passage in the Confessio tells of a dream, after his return to Britain, in which one Victoricus delivered him a letter headed âThe Voice of the Irish.â As he read it, he seemed to hear a certain company of Irish beseeching him to walk once more among them. âDeeply moved,â he says, âI could read no more.â Nevertheless, because of the shortcomings of his education, he was reluctant for a long time to respond to the call. Even on the eve of reembarkation for Ireland he was beset by doubts of his fitness for the task. Once in the field, however, his hesitations vanished. Utterly confident in the Lord, he journeyed far and wide, baptizing and confirming with untiring zeal. In diplomatic fashion he brought gifts to a kinglet here and a lawgiver there but accepted none from any. On at least one occasion, he was cast into chains. On another, he addressed with lyrical pathos a last farewell to his converts who had been slain or kidnapped by the soldiers of Coroticus.
Careful to deal fairly with the non-Christian Irish, he nevertheless lived in constant danger of martyrdom. The evocation of such incidents of what he called his âlaborious episcopateâ was his reply to a charge, to his great grief endorsed by his ecclesiastical superiors in Britain, that he had originally sought office for the sake of office. In point of fact, he was a most humble-minded man, pouring forth a continuous paean of thanks to his Maker for having chosen him as the instrument whereby multitudes who had worshipped âidols and unclean thingsâ had become âthe people of God.â
The phenomenal success of Patrickâs mission is not, however, the full measure of his personality. Since his writings have come to be better understood, it is increasingly recognized that, despite their occasional incoherence, they mirror a truth and a simplicity of the rarest quality. Not since St. Augustine of Hippo had any religious diarist bared his inmost soul as Patrick did in his writings. As D.A. Binchy, the most austerely critical of Patrician (i.e., of Patrick) scholars, put it, âThe moral and spiritual greatness of the man shines through every stumbling sentence of his ârusticâ Latin.â
It is not possible to say with any assurance when Patrick was born. There are, however, a number of pointers to his missionary career having lain within the second half of the 5th century. In the Coroticus letter, his mention of the Franks as still âheathenâ indicates that the letter must have been written between 451, the date generally accepted as that of the Franksâ irruption into Gaul as far as the Somme River, and 496, when they were baptized en masse. Patrick, who speaks of himself as having evangelized heathen Ireland, is not to be confused with Palladius, sent by Pope Celestine I in 431 as âfirst bishop to the Irish believers in Christ.â
Toward the end of his life, he retired to Saul, where he may have written his Confessio. It is said that an angel conveyed to him that he was to die at Saul, the site of his first church, despite his wishes to die within the ecclesiastical metropolis of Ireland. His last rites were administered by St. Tussach (also spelled Tassach or Tassac).
Legends
Before the end of the 7th century, Patrick had become a legendary figure, and the legends have continued to grow. One of these would have it that he drove the snakes of Ireland into the sea to their destruction. Patrick himself wrote that he raised people from the dead, and a 12th-century hagiography places this number at 33 men, some of whom are said to have been deceased for many years. He also reportedly prayed for the provision of food for hungry sailors traveling by land through a desolate area, and a herd of swine miraculously appeared.
Another legend, probably the most popular, is that of the shamrock, which has him explain the concept of the Holy Trinity, three persons in one God, to an unbeliever by showing him the three-leaved plant with one stalk. Traditionally, Irishmen have worn shamrocks, the national flower of Ireland, in their lapels on St. Patrickâs Day, March 17.
What Is Lifeâs Ultimate Good
Dear Dan, I agree; any view that has God as the foundation of morality â like the Christian view I described in my last letter â will have further, serious issues to address. In fact, your two objections get at the most central ones. Let me respond to both. What Makes Godâs Laws Good? Your first objection has a great pedigree and can be traced all the way back to Plato. Namely, what makes Godâs moral laws â his moral values â good? Does he like these laws because they are good? Or are they good because he likes them? Either way seems to spell trouble for Christianity. Take the first option. Are Godâs laws good because they meet some separate standard of good, one âoutsideâ of God? If so, God has to defer to â is beholden to â some higher authority. And thatâs impossible, according to Christianity. But the alternative seems just as bad. If Godâs laws are good because he likes them, it makes morality seem arbitrary, dependent merely on his personal tastes or whims. After all, what if he had preferred things like murder, rape, and torture? Would these therefore be good? Do we really want to define âgoodâ as âwhat God likes,â similar to the way âcoolnessâ is just whatever the cool kids like? Wouldnât this rob statements like âGod is goodâ of all significance, reducing them to saying merely that âGod is the way he isâ? Again, neither choice looks very promising. So, which horn of the dilemma should the Christian choose? Goodness Is Godness I think the second option is the right one: Godâs laws are good because he likes them. That is, anything that God likes or values is good by definition. Goodness just is Godness. So then, is the phrase âGod is goodâ nothing but an empty tautology, saying no more than âGod is Godâ? âAnything that God likes or values is good by definition. Goodness just is Godness.â Well, no. In this specific context, where weâre defining âgood,â âGod is goodâ tells us something informative â namely, that Godâs values are what make things morally good. But in most other contexts, when we say, âGod is goodâ we can generally take for granted which properties or characteristics go on the âgoodâ list. In these ordinary cases, âGod is goodâ expresses something different â for example, âHereâs what God is like: he hates lying, murder, stealing â things we all agree are bad.â But then, if goodness is defined as whatever God likes, doesnât my view mean that murder and rape would have been good if God had liked them? In a sense, perhaps; at least their advocacy would have been included in his moral laws. But remember that weâre currently defining âgood,â and I think some of the rhetorical force of the wouldnât-rape-therefore-be-good objection comes from ignoring this context. After all, it seems that regardless of what we say ultimately âmakesâ something good, if that âgood-makerâ were different, good would be different. And in any case, the traditional Christian view of God holds that he couldnât have liked these things, that itâs logically impossible for God to be different than he is, just as a square couldnât fail to have four equal sides. It turns out, therefore, that things arenât as nearly as bad as the objection initially implied. Why Follow Godâs Moral Law? Then thereâs your second objection: why should we follow Godâs laws? Is it because, if we donât, heâll submit us to everlasting punishment? Should we follow Godâs laws simply to avoid pain? Does it turn out, after all, that morality is merely a matter of might makes right? Well, I think Christians should acknowledge that avoiding pain and suffering is a good reason to follow Godâs moral laws. Moreover, I concede that this would be a genuine problem â if this were the only reason for obeying God. And as I said, even this reason isnât without its virtues. After all, if we think of God as a parent â which the Bible encourages us to do â itâs a perfectly good reason, morally as well as rationally. As children we often obeyed our parents, in part, to avoid discipline. In fact, this was the reason for discipline in the first place â to help motivate us to obey. But of course, our obedience wasnât merely motivated by a fear of discipline. We also obeyed our parents because we loved and trusted them. We knew that their requirements were an integral part of their deep love and affection for us, that they gave us these rules to benefit us. Their laws were evidence of our parentsâ love. This interweaving of love and law, this close relation between our love for our parents, their love for us, and their moral values (that is, their moral loves) usually resulted in us adopting their morals; their values naturally became our values. We liked these values. And it didnât stop with moral values; we sometimes adopted our parentsâ values about sports teams, movies, and music â again, sometimes simply because we loved them. So, according to my view, we ought to follow Godâs laws because, ultimately, we want to â and the main reason we want to is that we love him. In this way, morality is ultimately personal and grounded in what we love. Meaning of Life The personal aspect of value isnât limited to moral value; itâs a component of all value, including lifeâs ultimate value. What we might call lifeâs ultimate meaning or purpose is perhaps the most important topic of all. So, what is our ultimate value, meaning, purpose, or goal in life? Well, suppose youâre right that thereâs no God. The meaning of life, then, would be like all value in a godless cosmos: subjective and relative. And because each person has his own values, there would be as many meanings of life as there are persons. In such a world, there would be no objective meaning that life has. But according to Christianity, humans have been made for something, for a purpose. Moreover, this purpose does not depend on us, and so, in this sense, itâs objective, human-independent. And because we were designed for a specific purpose, humans will only truly flourish and thrive by fulfilling this purpose. Fulfilling Godâs purpose for us is lifeâs ultimate meaning. That doesnât mean that, in a world without God, humans could not find some measure of meaning or value in things like family, work, art, gardening, or whatever. But unless these individual goods are put into the context of the much larger, overall purpose, they will never be as meaningful (to us) as they could be. Only by fulfilling this ultimate purpose is our meaning of life maximized. What Are Humans For? What is this larger context or purpose? What were we made for? We find a hint by noticing that, for many of us, relationships and community are what we most value, where we find our greatest fulfillment. We flourish best in community with people we love. And this fact is entirely in line with the Christian view that our ultimate purpose is to know and love the ultimate Person, God himself. Christianity is of one voice on this. As one famous confession says, our ultimate purpose âis to glorify God and enjoy him forever.â Indeed, God is a loving relationship, as odd as that sounds. The mysterious doctrine of the Trinity says that the Godhead is an intimate community of three (divine) persons. Thatâs what he is. (This is one reason why monistic religions canât truly make sense of the view that God is love: Who was God loving before he created persons other than himself? Such a being couldnât essentially be love; at best, he would need creatures in order to love.) âOur ultimate purpose is to know and love the ultimate Person, God himself.â Notice that the centrality of relationships is also evident when Jesus sums up all of Godâs laws in just two: love God and love your neighbor. The moral law â and, not coincidentally, lifeâs ultimate meaning â is about relationships, both human and divine. God, then, created humans for his own purpose. Our purpose â the meaning of life â is also importantly objective, just as morality is: it is human-independent. Yet itâs obvious that we can and do reject Godâs purpose for us. In fact, the gospel message â and the entire Bible â is predicated on such rejection. But God has given us another chance to truly flourish, to find ultimate meaning through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. He has made this possible at an immense cost to himself. Dan, I get why you would reject Christianity, viewing it as you do from the outside. I hope youâll continue to consider all this and at least begin to sense that genuine atheism might be a lot different from your current âkinder, gentlerâ version. I also hope that in the process youâll reconsider Christianityâs claims â in particular, Jesusâs offering of himself and the relationship you were made for. Article by Mitch Stokes