God's Generals (Maria Woodworth) Order Printed Copy
- Author: Roberts Liardon
- Size: 397KB | 32 pages
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About the Book
"God's Generals" by Roberts Liardon is a biographical look at the life and ministry of Maria Woodworth-Etter, a pioneering female evangelist known for her powerful preaching and healing ministry in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. The book details Woodworth-Etter's struggles, triumphs, and impact on the Pentecostal movement, highlighting her dedication to spreading the gospel and leading countless souls to faith in Christ.
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.
to all who feel empty - invitation to the bored and disappointed
It was a small, flesh-colored growth on my cheek. The doctor said it was mild skin cancer and should be removed. But after looking at the biopsy, the hospitalâs tumor board recommended a second procedure to remove more skin, to be sure they got it all. Thatâs when my fear started. What if the cancer has already spread? What if this is more serious than everyone is saying? What if itâs too late? At times like this, itâs tempting to seek comfort in being positive (âIt will be okayâ), in percentages (âMost of these cancers are nothingâ), or in self-pity (âWhy is this happening to me?â). But God invites us to a far better comfort: Come, everyone who thirsts,      come to the waters; and he who has no money,      come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk.      without money and without price. Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread,      and your labor for that which does not satisfy? Listen diligently to me, and eat what is good,      and delight yourselves in rich food. Incline your ear, and come to me;      hear, that your soul may live; and I will make with you an everlasting covenant,      my steadfast, sure love for David. (Isaiah 55:1â3) This invitation is for everyone who is emotionally thirsty and hungry, longing for peace and joy. Itâs for everyone who feels bored, insecure, jealous, frustrated, impatient, disappointed, fearful. Fearful . That described me. So, Godâs invitation was for me . âGod satisfies us fully and lastingly by giving us himself.â And what does this invitation promise? God promises to satisfy and delight our hearts (Isaiah 55:2) with wine and milk and rich food (Isaiah 55:1). How does he do this? Not by giving us earthly comforts, since at best those give temporary, partial satisfaction. No: God satisfies us fully and lastingly by giving us himself . We can see this by comparing the beginning of the passage, where God says, âCome to the waters ,â with the end, where he says, âCome to me .â What God gives us is himself . Sit and Eat The prophet Hosea puts it this way: âLet us know; let us press on to know the Lord; his going out is sure as the dawn; he will come to us as the showers, as the spring rains that water the earthâ (Hosea 6:3). We are dry, parched land, in need of rain. And God promises that when we press on to know him, he himself  will come to us with the refreshing rain of his presence. And he says this promise is as certain as the sun rising tomorrow. So, when we are emotionally hungry and thirsty, itâs like God is inviting us to a banquet table piled high with sizzling chicken fajitas and hot, cheesy lasagna and apple pie Ă la mode and fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies and water and wine and milk. All we need to do is come, sit down, and eat. But if thatâs true, then why are we ever emotionally hungry and thirsty? Why do we get bored, or jealous, or bitter, or insecure? And why was I feeling such fear? Why Such Fear? We often blame our circumstances. We think we lack joy and peace because we didnât get the promotion, or because our children arenât behaving, or because weâre stuck in traffic, or in my case, because I have skin cancer. But God says thereâs a deeper reason. Itâs that weâve ignored his invitation, and taken our hunger to what is not bread (Isaiah 55:2). Weâve turned from Godâs table to the worldâs table, which at best has an occasional rotten, mushy banana, a day-old bowl of half-eaten oatmeal, or a glass of murky water. Thatâs why I was fearful. I was ignoring Godâs table, with its unshakable promises of everlasting joy, and was trusting the worldâs table, whose promises were being threatened by skin cancer. And thatâs why we are: Bored:  We are ignoring Godâs table and looking for something exciting at the worldâs table. But nothing looks promising. Grumpy:  We were hoping something on the worldâs table would satisfy us, but when we sat down, it ended up being a dry, half-eaten cracker. Disappointed:  Weâve been trusting that something on the worldâs table will satisfy us, but either it was taken away, or it didnât end up being what we hoped for. Jealous:  Weâre sitting at the worldâs table but are not satisfied with what weâve been served, and we think that what someone else was served would make us happier. Whenever we feel emotional hunger and thirst, we do well to ask if weâve moved from Godâs guaranteed, all-satisfying table to the worldâs uncertain, disappointing table. Buy Without Money But turning from Godâs table not only leaves us hungry and thirsty. It also makes us guilty before God, because eating from the worldâs table is sin. And sin requires a payment of punishment, which is why God says his food must be bought (Isaiah 55:1). But God also says that we have no money (Isaiah 55:1), because we canât make up for our sin by being good enough. âWhen we press on to know God, he himself will come to us with the refreshing rain of his presence.â So, if we are going to enjoy Godâs table, someone else must make the payment. And two chapters earlier we read that this is what the Messiah would do: âHe was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquitiesâ (Isaiah 53:5). Though we have no money, we can buy this food by trusting Jesus, who pays the penalty of our punishment by dying on the cross. God has given us the invitation, and he has paid the price. So, how do we get up from the worldâs table and enjoy Godâs table? Come to the Table Here are the steps God used to help me. First, I confessed my sin to God â that I had turned from his table to the worldâs table, and I was fearful because the worldâs promise of earthly comforts and long life was threatened by my skin cancer (1 John 1:9). Second, I admitted to God that I could not pay for my sins, and I thanked and praised him that Jesus fully paid for them on the cross (1 Peter 3:18). Third, I asked God to help me taste and experience how superior his banquet is to the worldâs table (Psalm 43:3â4). Fourth, I set my heart on a few Scriptures that describe Godâs banquet (John 8:31â32): Pleasure in him now and forever (Psalm 16:11). Joy unspeakable and full of glory (1 Peter 1:8). Life in Christ now, and gain when I die (Philippians 1:21). A heavenly, eternal dwelling made by God himself (2 Corinthians 5:1â4). Fifth, I prayed over these Scriptures, asking God to help me feel their reality and glory, until I experienced the Spirit changing and satisfying my heart (John 6:35). And thatâs what he did. Over the next twenty minutes, I felt my faith strengthen and my fear disappear, as God used his word to give me a taste of his all-satisfying glory, which nothing, not even death, can threaten. Are you sitting at the worldâs table, hungry and disappointed? If so, God is inviting you to his piled-high banquet table. Heâs paid for the ticket, and is holding a seat for you. Enjoy the feast.