Patrick: The Slave and the Missionary

As a child, it’s fair to say what I knew of classic literature came from “Wishbone” and what I knew of church history came from “Adventures in Odyssey.” Each afternoon after school, I was transfixed during the thirty minute audio theater-style broadcast. I remember the dramatic episodes that introduced me to St. Patrick, the young slave boy whose faithfulness to God would change the face of Ireland. 

Patrick grew up in late 4th century Britain, the son of a wealthy deacon. By his own account, he ignored the religion of his family. When he was about 16 years old, he was captured by Irish raiders and taken back to pagan Ireland as a slave (circa 405). For six years, he was enslaved and worked caring for his master’s herds. Far from home and surrounded by a pagan culture, Patrick clung to the Christian faith he had previously shrugged off. He later attributes this season of his life with his coming to the Lord. Alone in the fields, he spent the majority of his time in prayer. After a dream instructed Patrick to leave and return home, he escaped and fled. A long dangerous journey led him home to the safety of his family. 

Shortly after his return to Britain, Patrick had another dream. I’ll record it in his own words.

“There, in a vision of the night, I saw a man whose name was Victoricus coming as if from Ireland with innumerable letters, and he gave me one of them, and I read the beginning of the letter: ‘The Voice of the Irish’; and as I was reading the beginning of the letter I seemed at that moment to hear the voice of those who were beside the forest of Foclut which is near the western sea, and they were crying as if with one voice: ‘We beg you, holy youth, that you shall come and shall walk again among us.’ And I was stung intensely in my heart so that I could read no more, and thus I awoke.”

I can only imagine. Violently captured, stolen from your family, enslaved in a foreign land—your youth lost in slavery. The last place I would want to return would be to the land of my captivity.

Read more

Why Lent is About Discipleship

Many believe the 40 day Lenten period before Easter originated as a season of preparation for new converts before baptism. In the early church, particularly as Christianity gained popularity in the 4th-century, new converts were put through an intense discipleship process before being baptized and welcomed to receive Communion for the first time. Church leaders wanted to ensure that the person’s faith was active and life-changing and not simply rush them through the baptismal process. So, they instituted a period of time for the character and life of those pursuing baptism to be examined publicly. Intensive teaching sessions were included in this time, and church leaders would explain the teachings of the Bible. The season included fasting and prayer in preparation for their full inclusion into the Christian community. This entire process culminated in baptism on Easter morning. Gradually, this Lenten season expanded to include the entire church community, not only baptismal candidates, and became the period of remembrance and preparation for Easter we now know.

How does this early picture of Lent shape our understanding of its purpose now?

To me, it suggests that fundamentally Lent is about “formation in the way of Jesus.” Lent is primarily about our journey of discipleship. This embodied season of repentance, fasting, self-denial, and humble awareness of Christ’s sufferings is all for the purpose of making us look more like Jesus. Abstaining from something if it doesn’t make us more Christlike isn’t beneficial. 

 

Read more

Francis of Assisi

He was born Giovanni Francesco Bernardone. His father was a successful cloth merchant. His childhood and adolescence were by all accounts carefree, marked by the ease and education of relative wealth. He was a sometimes-benefactor of his friends’ rowdy adolescent forays. As a young man, he was captured in battle and spent a year in a damp prison cell. Upon his return, he sobered up, and began spending long times in prayer. In one such time he had a vision in which he heard Christ asking him to “go repair my house, which, as you can see, is falling completely to ruin.” Although at the time, he began by repairing the dilapidated church in which he had been praying, his followers would later come to understand this as his call to reform the worldly and corrupt practices of the church. 

His merchant father was furious at his change of behavior and had him brought before a local bishop, complaining that his son had thrown off all his responsibilities. In response, our young friend stripped off his clothes—which represented his wealth and position—and put them at his father’s feet. He said, “Up to today I called you ‘father,’ but now I can say in all honesty, ‘Our Father who art in heaven.’” With these words, he abandoned his place in his father’s house and went out to live as a hermit. His work would leave a mark on Christians for generations to come. History would come to know him as St. Francis of Assisi. 

Read more

Unusual Lent Practices

We have now entered the season of Lent. If you haven’t picked a practice to focus on yet, it’s not too late. Some of you may opt for a more traditional fast for Lent, which is wonderful. If you haven’t already, read my original post on giving up and taking on things for Lent. If you’re still unsure, in this post, you’ll find some less conventional ideas of practices to adopt for Lent.

Remember that this Lenten season is for the purpose of repenting of the sins and idols in our hearts, solemnly remembering the sufferings of Christ, and humbly and prayerfully embracing the hard work of God in our lives. It is a season of prayer and sacrifice. Remember that these practices can be helpful to develop long-lasting habits and attitudes. The goal in all of this is that we would be shaped ever more into the likeness of Christ. Allow this to guide you as you consider a Lenten practice that will speak to how the Lord is working on you.

Read more

Death Be Not Proud: Ash Wednesday Reflections

Today, Ash Wednesday, marks a sobering beginning to the season of Lent. Traditionally, people’s foreheads are marked with ashes as a symbol of repentance (think of the Biblical “sackcloth and ashes”) and as a reminder of our mortality. We are not gods—we are but creatures

We do our best to flee from death. Our humanity is at war with it, fighting to keep it at bay. We fill our lives to distraction with the things of life. We work, we play, we are entertained. We build careers and homes and families. All in bold-faced defiance of our inevitable end. As we get sick and as we age, pills, tests, and treatments bandage us up and get us back into the game. All along, our mortality looms around us. Even with all of our medical advances and the continually rising life expectancy, we have yet to find any secret to immortality. We are dust; to dust we will return (Genesis 3:19). Death comes to all of us.

In the Christian worldview, we believe death is not the end. Through Jesus, we have the hope and possibility of an endless life in the presence of God. For those whose trust lies in the atoning work of Christ, we look forward to a day when suffering, tears, pain, and death are brought to an end. Christ’s death conquered not only sin but death itself. This is the bedrock for hope in the midst of the painful reminder of our human mortality. Death comes to all of us—but we put our hope in the Savior who has swallowed the grave.

 

Read more