Sayansi Ya Kujizuia With Mwal.Francis Order Printed Copy
- Author: Mwal.Francis
- Size: 455KB | 68 pages
- |
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.
But Have You Prayed
What hasnât yet changed in your life because you havenât started praying for it? Prayerlessness, of course, comes in varieties. Some almost never pray, proving that prayer is nothing more than a formality, a greeting card to God when they have time. Others only pray when they have some desperate and immediate need, treating prayer like a crisis-response line (and largely neglecting prayer otherwise). Others may pray regularly, but their prayers slowly devolve into repeated phrases that taste stale, impersonal, removed from real life. Even the best among us can sometimes swing between treasuring prayer when we think we really need it and skipping prayer when life seems to be going well. Prayer, however, is not a last resort, but a first line of defense, because God is not a last resort, but the one to whom we look first. Prayer is powerful because God is the most powerful agent of change in any of our lives. Oh, what peace we often forfeit Oh, what needless pain we bear All because we do not carry Everything to God in prayer. Jesus confronted the threat of prayerlessness in his disciples, and in a way that should land with gravity and hope in the midst of our own trials and burdens. Desperate Situation In Mark 9, a man had come, bearing his self-destructive, demon-oppressed son, searching desperately for Jesus â for healing. âTeacher, I brought my son to you,â the father says, âfor he has a spirit that makes him mute. And whenever it seizes him, it throws him down, and he foams and grinds his teeth and becomes rigidâ (Mark 9:17â18). Parents of young children can at least begin to imagine how excruciating and debilitating this suffering was. Is there anything this father would not do to see his son whole again? âWhat hasnât yet changed in your life because you havenât yet prayed for it?â By the time Jesus arrives on the scene, his disciples have been attempting to drive out the demon. But they were not able (Mark 9:18), even though they had been given authority over unclean spirits (Mark 6:7). And as they struggled over the helpless boy, the religious leaders emerge with crowds to argue with them (Mark 9:14), surely making the situation all the more stressful and tragic. Nothing but Prayer Jesus asks his father, âHow long has this been happening to him?â âFrom childhoodâ (Mark 9:21). Not just for several weeks or months, but over years, potentially decades. âAnd it has often cast him into fire and into water, to destroy him. But if you can do anything, have compassion on us and help usâ (Mark 9:22). Jesus, of course, can do anything, literally anything. ââIf you canâ! All things are possible for one who believes,â he replies (Mark 9:23). âI believe,â the father famously responds, âhelp my unbelief!â (Mark 9:24). So, Jesus heals the boy: âYou mute and deaf spirit, I command you, come out of him and never enter him againâ (Mark 9:25). The same spirit that evaded and overpowered the disciples surrenders immediately (and violently) (Mark 9:26), and at just the sound of his voice. When he is alone with his disciples, who are feeling confused and defeated by their failures, they ask him, âWhy could we not cast it out?â (Mark 9:28). A penetrating and ageless question. âThis kind,â Jesus says, âcannot be driven out by anything but prayerâ (Mark 9:29). Maybe they didnât pray at all, or maybe they prayed very little, or maybe they prayed formal, empty, heartless prayers, but either way Jesus says prayer â actually asking God â is what was missing. He could have said, This kind cannot be driven out by anyone but me, but instead he said, âThis kind cannot be driven out by anything but prayer.â And as surprised as we might be that the disciples didnât think to pray (or pray more), how often might Jesus say the same to us? What Kept Them from Praying? So, why didnât the disciples pray? Why didnât they ask God to help, to intervene, to do what was beyond the disciplesâ own ability? We donât know for sure, but the scene gives us a surprising number of potential reasons, many which might feel surprisingly relevant (and sobering) for own our prayer lives. DISTRACTED BY NOISE âHow often have we given up praying because too many days or months or years have passed?â First, a great crowd had gathered to watch (and interfere with) their ministry (Mark 9:14). They werenât doing spiritual warfare in the privacy of a home. The painful scene had become a stage, and the more the disciples failed and the longer the boy suffered, the more people came to watch. How many of us, with so many curious and suspicious eyes trained on us, would be courageous enough to stop and look toward heaven and pray? Or, how often does the sound of the crowds around us (constantly clawing at our attention through our devices), keep us from hearing Jesus say, âAsk, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to youâ (Matthew 7:7)? Distractions, which come in many kinds and ways, often keep us from praying. DOUBTED BY MAN Not all had come simply to watch, though. Religious experts joined the crowd, arguing with the disciples and saying it couldnât be done (Mark 9:14, 16). The spiritual enemy was obvious, but they had human enemies, as well â doubters, detractors, scoffers. Theyâre not waiting, like the rest of the crowd, for the disciples to heal the boy; they want nothing more than for followers of Jesus to fail (Mark 11:18). We may not face the same immediate opposition (though many Christians do), but wherever we are in the world, many want our prayers to fail â to prove that Jesus was just a man, the Bible just a book, and our prayers just wishful thinking. We know that faithfulness to Christ will cost us favor and approval from the world, and so the fear of man often keeps us from praying. DEFIED BY SATAN But the scribes were nothing compared with their unseen enemies. The disciples were dealing with an actual demon oppression â a real, destructive, spiritual enemy. A spiritual enemy strong enough to hurl the boy into fire and water, âto destroy himâ (Mark 9:22). Maybe worst of all, he made the boy mute (Mark 9:17), unable to cry for help or even explain what was happening to him. What would you do while you watched him being torn apart? Even if we are not experiencing this kind of manifest demonic opposition, we do wrestle, every day, âagainst the spiritual forces of evilâ (Ephesians 6:12). We pray into a downpour of fiery hostility. How often does Satan keep us from praying, doing all he can to keep us from our knees? DISCOURAGED BY INEFFECTIVENESS Though the disciples tried, really tried, to heal the boy, nothing changed. We donât know what they tried, but we know that they tried (Mark 9:18) and that they had tried everything they knew to do (Mark 9:28). When Jesus says, âThis kind cannot be driven out by anything but prayer,â he hints at all their failed attempts. And the boy still writhed and foamed and groaned on the ground â like he had for so long. A sense of futility surely began to set in. They had healed many before, but this spirit wouldnât surrender. Maybe no one can heal this boy. How often have we given up praying because the outcome seems decided, because too many days or months or years have passed? Discouragement over unanswered prayer often keeps us from praying. Jesus Really Prayed Many barriers keep us from praying, but nothing kept Jesus from asking his Father, because Jesus knew that nothing was more vital and powerful than prayer. And he knew nothing was more vital and powerful than prayer because no one was more vital and powerful than his Father. âSome things will not change unless we humble ourselves, kneel, and plead with our Father in heaven.â When Jesus says, âThis kind cannot be driven out by anything but prayer,â he knew so from personal and persistent experience. He was tempted in every way as we are, but without ever indulging in prayerlessness. We know how dependent he was on God â rising early in the morning (Mark 1:35), getting alone with his Father (Mark 6:46), and pouring out his heart (Mark 14:35). And we know he did this regularly (Luke 5:16). He was not distracted by the crowds or undone by the fear of man. He was not intimidated by demonic warfare or discouraged by Godâs timing. He knew the soul-sustaining, demon-defeating, mountain-moving power of prayer â and he wanted us to know it too. Some oppression will not lift without prayer. Some wounds will not heal without prayer. Some trials will not end without prayer. Some sins will not die without prayer. Some relationships will not mend without prayer. Some things will not change, things we desperately want to change, unless we consistently and persistently humble ourselves, kneel, and plead with our Father in heaven. The all-wise, all-loving, all-powerful God has chosen to do much in the world through our prayers, because prayer is part of his precious relationship with his children and exalts him as the listening and answering God. So, what hasnât yet changed in your life because you havenât yet prayed?