Quiet Time (School Of The Word) Order Printed Copy

Author: Dag Heward Mills
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About the Book

"Quiet Time (School of the Word)" by Dag Heward Mills is a practical guide to establishing and maintaining a daily quiet time with God. The book emphasizes the importance of spending time in prayer, meditation, and studying the Bible in order to grow spiritually and deepen one's relationship with God. It offers practical tips and insights on how to make the most of quiet time and draw closer to God through regular, intentional time spent in reflection and communion with Him.

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 “The Voice of the Irish.” As he read it, he seemed to hear a certain company of Irish beseeching him to walk once more among them. “Deeply moved,” he says, “I could read no more.” 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 “laborious episcopate” 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 “idols and unclean things” had become “the people of God.” The phenomenal success of Patrick’s 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, “The moral and spiritual greatness of the man shines through every stumbling sentence of his ‘rustic’ Latin.” 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 “heathen” indicates that the letter must have been written between 451, the date generally accepted as that of the Franks’ 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 “first bishop to the Irish believers in Christ.” 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. Patrick’s Day, March 17.

The Sweet Grief of Repentance

The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise. (Psalm 51:17) I can still see the moment clearly in my mind. At a Christian conference, a friend whom I had been studying the Bible with that semester shared with our group that he was ready to follow Jesus. He broke down in tears. We were football players. We didn’t cry. I honestly couldn’t believe it. He not only accepted my invitation to attend the conference, but he even repented of sin and believed upon Christ for the forgiveness of sins. I sat watching it unfold in absolute awe. Afterward, I talked with the campus minister about how amazing my friend’s conversion had been. The minister, an older man, shared that he had witnessed many such conversions — and that not all had lasted. I didn’t have categories at the time for what the minister said. Had the minister not been there? My friend spoke, “I want to follow Jesus,” so clearly; no doubt he felt some truths deeply; he soon sung hymns so sweetly, as the crowd sang with him. But time proved that repentance was not his truest praise. The talk, the tears, the newfound happiness soon led to a crossroad. A sinful relationship with a girl proved harder to give up, for him, than Jesus. Fruit of Lifelong Repentance If someone’s conversion to God is true, lifelong repentance will follow. The mouth of one not born again can say true things for a time. Unchanged eyes can cry. A dead tongue can sincerely sing worship songs for a season. And turning away from Christ, repenting of him, can prove it all was false. “Christians sin, and at times sin grievously. But they do not make a lifestyle of sinning.” This is what the minister had seen time and time again. He witnessed seed fall on rocky soil — someone who received the word “with joy,” yet because they had no root, they fell away eventually (Matthew 13:20–21). Though they seemed to experience the Spirit’s transformation and fellowship with other believers, they finally “were not of us; for if they had been of us, they would have continued with us” (1 John 2:19). And the pain of watching them leave us can be unbearable. True repentance, then, is lifelong. Martin Luther, in the first of his ninety-five theses, began, “When our Lord and Master Jesus Christ said, ‘Repent,’ he willed the entire life of believers to be one of repentance.” Luther is capturing what Scripture attests to, for example, when John the Baptist instructs, “Bear fruit in keeping with repentance” (Matthew 3:8). The wringing of our hearts over our sins, the sighs and groans of remaining corruption, our turning away from sin and looking to Christ will follow us to the grave — if we’re true. Saints Still Sin Now, do not misunderstand: Christians sin, and at times sin grievously. But they do not make a lifestyle of sinning. It is impossible to do so. “No one born of God makes a practice of sinning, for God’s seed abides in him; and he cannot keep on sinning, because he has been born of God” (1 John 3:9). Those with the Spirit repent of sin and turn away from it, encouraged by the discipline of a loving Father. Repentance, we learn in Scripture, is not figuring out the secret passwords to get into heaven. We do not begin an immoral relationship, get confronted in our sin, and continue on in that immoral relationship. We confess our wrongness before God, understand how we’ve conspired against him, and prayerfully cast the sin into the fire, like Paul cast away the poisonous viper fastened to his hand on the island of Patmos (Acts 28:3). Have you continued in a life of repentance? Have you continued in true contrition over sin, accompanied with a true impulse to renounce that sin? Have you continued to wonder how you could so offend your dearest Friend, grieve his indwelling Spirit, and dishonor your heavenly Father? Have you asked, How could I indulge the sin that Christ died to redeem me from? Contrition Draws God Near If you have persisted in repentance, do not forget that your God does not despise this brokenness: “The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise” (Psalm 51:17). He does not stand in heaven cross-armed, scowling. Contrition draws him near. As with the Prodigal Son, we do not need to bring our mere promises to do better next time; we bring bended knees and lowly hearts. We ask him to cover our disgrace and lavish us with fresh mercy flowing from the cross of his beloved Son who died to take away our sins. This is an immovable part of our praise to God: agreeing with him that our sin is horrible, that we deserve punishment for it, but that Christ died for our forgiveness, and gave us his Spirit to put it to death. We vow to turn from it, yes, but only in the strength, forgiveness, and acceptance that he provides through grace alone. Having seen more men walk away after sin, having witnessed the painful sights the minister has seen, I plead with you: Continue to offer God this truest, deepest, and sweetest of praises to God. “Repent therefore, and turn back, that your sins may be blotted out, that times of refreshing may come from the presence of the Lord” (Acts 3:19–20). Article by Greg Morse