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.
you donât have to know godâs will
You donât have to know Godâs will if you are confident in Godâs word. If that raises objections, trust me, I understand. Like you, I have significant questions that I donât have answers for. I have personal quandaries, parenting quandaries, ministry quandaries, financial quandaries, etc. Some are massively important and Iâm not sure what to do. This can tempt me to fear. Iâve prayed about these things, some for quite a while. Clarity has not yet come. But over the decades Iâve followed him, Jesus has made something very clear to me in the Scriptures, the lives of eminent saints, and my own stumbling experience: Living in the will of God is more about knowing and trusting his specific promises than receiving specific direction (Hebrews 11:8). Itâs more about resting in his sovereignty than wrestling with my ambiguity (Psalm 131:1â2). Iâve learned and continue to learn that embracing Godâs will for me largely consists in transferring my confidence from my own miniscule capacity to understand whatâs going on and why to Godâs omniscient and completely wise understanding (Proverbs 3:5â6). Our Felt Need Is Often Not Our Fundamental Need As the result of the fall, we all come into the world wildly and irrationally over-confident in ourselves. When God redeems us in Christ, he enrolls us in a discipleship program uniquely tailored to the purposes he has for each of us. He knows that for us to live according to his will, our fundamental need is a significant loss of self-confidence and a significant gain in God-confidence. But this is usually not our felt need. The need we typically feel is to know specifically what weâre supposed to do, where weâre supposed to go, how our needs will be provided, or why the terrible thing happened. âLiving in the will of God is more about resting in his sovereignty than wrestling with your ambiguity.â What weâre seeking for and hope to find in those answers are certainty and security â peace. But due to our manifold limitations on every level, the answers we think we want would rarely provide us the peace we seek. God knows his explanations would not even make sense to us since we lack the capacities to comprehend the complexity of the equation. Thatâs why Hudson Taylor counsels us to, âmake up your mind that God is an infinite Sovereign, and has the right to do as He pleases with His own, and he may not explain to you a thousand things which may puzzle your reason in His dealings with you.â (A Camaraderie of Confidence, 31) Our infinite Sovereign knows that our fundamental need is to learn to trust him over our very finite selves. He knows that trust will provide us what explanations wonât: the peace that surpasses understanding (Philippians 4:7). Thatâs why when we pray about Godâs will for us, Godâs answers often aim at addressing this fundamental need: learning to trust him over our understanding (Proverbs 3:5). But because we are focused on our felt needs, we often fail to recognize Godâs answers at first. He is addressing a need we have, but donât feel. So it can seem like God is ignoring our need for the peace we long for. How God Meets Our Need for Peace But God is most certainly not ignoring our need for peace. He has promised that we will experience peace through believing (Romans 15:13). Believing what? Believing his âprecious and very great promisesâ (2 Peter 1:4). This is what I mean when I say that we donât need to know Godâs will if we are confident in Godâs word. When Godâs direction and purposes for us are unclear, his promises are always crystal clear. God frequently calls us to stand on the rock of his promises and faithfulness in the murky, swirling fog of perplexing circumstances (Hebrews 10:23). Is this not the story of almost every biblical saint? âWhen Godâs direction and purposes for us are unclear, his promises are always crystal clear.â Godâs promises are the checks that are accepted at the bank of heaven. They are Godâs promissory notes to us, guaranteeing that he will make good on the value they represent. No matter how things appear at any given time, no matter how dark, foreboding, lonely, depressing, even hopeless things look, God always makes good on his promises. And he wants us to cash them. Thatâs why Charles Spurgeon said, âWhen I pray, I like to go to God just as I go to a bank clerk when I have [a] cheque to be cashed. I walk in, put the cheque down on the counter, and the clerk gives me my money, I take it up, and go about my business.â (A Camaraderie of Confidence, 54) That almost sounds flippant. Itâs not. Itâs experience. If there is anything we can legitimately name and claim as Christians, it is a clear promise of God. We cannot claim it on our own terms or timing, but we can in good conscience hold God to it, because it is Godâs will to say yes in Christ to every promise he makes to us in the Bible (2 Corinthians 1:20). Godâs word is as good as God. Listen to the Cloud of Witnesses: Cash the Checks! If you struggle to believe these things, join the club. It doesnât come natural to any of us to trust Godâs promises over our perceptions. God knows this and knows how to cultivate trust in us. And one way he does this is through the testimonies of others who have put his promises to the test. This âcloud of witnessesâ (Hebrews 12:1), those who have known God best, all cry, âCash the checks! Theyâre real!â Listen to them speak from the Scripture and church history. âGod always makes good on his promises. And he wants us to cash them.â One of my favorites, a man whose example convicts and encourages me every time I turn to him, is George MĂźller of Bristol. And speaking on behalf of the great cloud he says to us: âEveryone is invited and commanded to trust in the Lord, to trust in Him with all his heart, and to cast his burden upon Him, and to call upon Him in the day of trouble. Will you not do this, my dear brethren in Christ? I long that you may do so. I desire that you may taste the sweetness of that state of heart, in which, while surrounded by difficulties and necessities, you can yet be at peace, because you know that the living God, your Father in heaven, cares for you.â (A Camaraderie of Confidence, 83) God has given you the checks of his promises and you are invited to take them to the bank of heaven. If you want peace, the peace that surpasses understanding and guards your heart and mind during your most embattled, stormy, confusing, and frightening moments, you must cash the checks. For this peace comes only from trust. If you do, you will be able to live at peace in the midst of many quandaries not yet knowing Godâs specific will because you are confident in Godâs specific word.