Chapter 9: The Door Is Closed

Lesson Transcript

Chapter 9: The Door Is Closed. Return to Ireland? Absolutely not. Calpornius was quite angry. "Haven't you suffered enough in Ireland already? Do you expect us to believe that God delivered you from Ireland only to send you right back? What will your master do when he discovers that you've returned?" At this point, Patrick's mother completely broke down, wailing so pathetically that even Patrick was moved to tears. "Dear God, no, don't let this happen," she lamented loudly.

"Please, don't let our boy leave us ever again." "Think of what the Scriptures teach," Calpornius reminded Patrick sternly. "They tell you to honor your father and your mother. You certainly won't be honoring us if you do such a foolish thing as going back to Ireland. This time, you'll probably be killed." "Why would God want you to go back to Ireland?" Patrick's mother pleaded. "He saved you from the Irish. Use your head, Patrick.

Use your head." "My head tells me not to go, but my heart tells me that I must," Patrick replied firmly. He paced around the room for a moment and then stepped outside into the walled patio. His parents followed him outside. "Look, do you think this is something that I want?" Patrick asked, turning to face his parents. "I have no desire whatsoever to set foot in Ireland again. In fact, I was looking forward to having a family and living here in Bannavem for the rest of my life.

I'm sure that nothing but hardships await me in Ireland, and maybe death." "So then tell God no," Calpornius insisted. "But I owe God my life. I'm His bondservant. I can't refuse Him.

As for the reason why God wants me to go back, I'm sure it's to bring the good news of Jesus Christ to the Irish people." Then, speaking very tenderly, Patrick continued, "I know that the Scriptures tell us to honor our father and mother, but Jesus also tells us that 'He who loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me.' I have no desire to leave you, ever, but I have to obey my Lord." Patrick's mother broke into loud wails.

Even many of the servants who had been listening in on the conversation were crying. Finally, Calpornius interjected quietly, "Will you do this one thing for us, Patrick? Will you talk to the presbyters of the Church, see what they have to say? After all, God speaks through the Church as well as through dreams." Patrick thought for a moment, gazing into his father's gray-blue eyes. Finally, he replied, "Yes.

I will talk to the leaders of the Church and see what they say." The next Sunday, after the morning worship service, Patrick and Calpornius sat down with the presbyters in a quiet room off of the nave of the Church. The presbyters listened attentively to Patrick's account of his recent dream and the earlier dreams in Ireland. When Patrick finished, they asked Calpornius what he thought about the matter. After hearing his thoughts, Petronius told Patrick, "Give us some time to pray and talk about this.

We'll meet back with you on Tuesday morning. How does that sound?" Patrick agreed, and he and his father silently walked home together. During the rest of that day, and the next, a visitor would have thought that there had just been a funeral in Calpornius' home. Everyone was abnormally quiet, including the servants. No one spoke any further about Patrick's dream. Patrick's parents prayed ardently that God would not take their boy to Ireland.

Patrick prayed just as ardently that God would reveal His will to his parents and to the leaders of the Church. Everyone waited anxiously for Tuesday morning. "Patrick, I know you're not going to like what we're about to tell you," Petronius began. Patrick's heart sank. "We're all very impressed by your sincerity and your desire to do God's will," he continued. He glanced at the other presbyters, who all nodded in agreement. "However, God has not made it plain to any of us that this is what He wants you to do.

We feel that if this were His will, He would have revealed that to us as well." "Patrick, this mission is just too dangerous," another presbyter interjected. "Word would almost certainly reach your former master that you had returned. Before very long, you'd be a slave again, if you're fortunate. You might end up being tortured or sacrificed to one of their gods." Before Patrick had a chance to say anything, Hosius, another presbyter, chimed in, "Patrick, we don't want to hurt your feelings.

But you've always been somewhat of a dreamer. We remember when you were a boy, you used to dream about being the emperor someday. You were always imagining things. We think this just may be something else you've imagined." "Did I imagine the dream in Ireland when God told me my ship was waiting for me?" Patrick retorted, raising his voice. His face was flushed with anger. "Did I imagine the dream when God told me that I would be free from the Irish sailors in sixty days?" "Well, we don't know about those things.

But if it was God who saved you from the Irish, He would hardly be sending you back to certain captivity or death, now would He?" Hosius answered, "Besides, the hearts of the Irish are far too hardened at the present time to ever receive the Gospel. They still offer human sacrifices to their demon gods. Perhaps someday God will send someone to preach the Gospel to them. But, Patrick, you're hardly qualified for such a monumental task." "That's right," Petronius added in a gentle voice.

"Patrick, through no fault of your own, you've missed out on your education. You know none of the canons and doctrines of the Gospel. You read the Latin Scriptures only with difficulty. For such a task as bringing the Gospel to Ireland, God needs someone who has much more training than you have. When God raises up that man, perhaps you can accompany him. If this dream was from God, no doubt that's what He meant." Blinking back tears, Patrick left the meeting with his head hung low.

He made only half-hearted jabs at his food that evening, and he went to bed early. The next day, Patrick went to visit Victoricus, who lived alone in a simple hut in the woods. Although he came from a middle-class family, Victoricus had spent his life as an ascetic man of prayer. Many Christians in the community viewed Victoricus as a prophet. Others thought he was just a demented old man. Victoricus warmly welcomed Patrick inside his hut.

"Are you the one I've heard about, the young man whom God delivered from Ireland?" Victoricus' big smile revealed several missing teeth. "Yes, I'm the one." "But you look so troubled, lad. I would think you would be leaping about joyfully. What's burdening you?" "I don't know where to start," Patrick murmured. "Well, start with your kidnapping," Victoricus suggested as he handed Patrick a cup of water. So Patrick told him about his kidnapping, his years in Ireland, and his providential deliverance.

"But the reason I've come to talk with you is because of a dream I had last week. In the dream, you came to my house with a satchel of letters from Ireland." "Me? I came to your house from Ireland? But Patrick, I've never been in Ireland," Victoricus objected. "Yes, but dreams don't always fit life as we know it. Isn't that true?" Victoricus thought for a moment. "Yes, it's true. But imagine me being in one of your dreams," he chuckled.

"We hardly know each other." "That convinces me all the more that the dream was from God. You're the most spiritual man in these parts. That's why God put you in my dream." "You mean I'm the craziest man in these parts?" Victoricus protested with a grin. "But go on. What did the letters say?" Patrick went on to describe the rest of the dream. He then told Victoricus how his parents responded and what the presbyters had said.

"So, the presbyters don't think you're qualified to be a missionary, do they?" Victoricus commented, stroking his long white beard. "The truth of the matter is that it would be hard to find anyone in the entire world right now who is as qualified for this mission as you are, Patrick." "You really think so?" Patrick answered in surprise. "Why do you say that? You hardly know me." "I don't have to know you," Victoricus responded as he refilled Patrick's cup.

"I've heard your life's account, and I know the ways of God. Don't you realize, Patrick, that you've just graduated from God's training school? For six years, God has been specifically training you for the very purpose of bringing the Gospel to the Irish." "I never thought of that," Patrick replied, his eyes suddenly lighting up.

"But none of the presbyters think I'm qualified." "Well, let's go over some of the qualifications that the man who takes Christianity to Ireland must have," Victoricus suggested, "and then we'll see where you stand." "All right. First of all, before a man can bring the Gospel to others, he must have a deep, personal relationship with God marked by a life of continual prayer. Where do you stand there?" "I guess I'm on safe ground there," Patrick replied. "I pray around the clock.

When I was in Ireland, I prayed at least a hundred times a day." "Yes, I remember your telling me that. Now, the second qualification for the man who takes the Gospel to Ireland is that he must love the Irish people. Do you really love the Irish, Patrick? Or deep inside do you still resent them for what they did to you?" Patrick was silent for several seconds. Then, nodding his head, he replied confidently, "I can honestly say that I love the Irish. Now, mind you, I didn't at first.

After they kidnapped me, I hated them. But over the years, through God's grace, I have come to love them. They are truly like sheep without a shepherd. They need the saving message of the Gospel." "I was hoping that's what I would hear," Victoricus said with a warm smile as he stood up. "Come and walk with me in the woods for a while. I need to stretch my legs.

We can talk further as we walk." As the two men rambled through the woods, Victoricus continued, "Now, the third qualification is that you must have an unshakable faith in God's sustaining grace to preserve you through any trials. You must have absolute faith in Him to provide for your needs, regardless of the circumstances. Do you have such faith, Patrick?" "I know this must sound boastful," Patrick said with considerable hesitation. "But I can honestly say that I do.

I've had to depend absolutely upon Him all of these past six years. Yes, I truly believe that He will sustain my needs if I go back to Ireland." "I sense you have such faith, Patrick. But another thing is that the man who evangelizes Ireland must be ready to lay down his life for the Irish. If you go to Ireland at God's call, you might not ever come back. Are you prepared for that?" Patrick thought for a moment, absently toying with a flower he had picked. "Yes, I truly am.

I've thought about that very thing over the past week. I'm ready to die in Ireland." Victoricus smiled broadly, then put his arm around Patrick. "Yes, you're God's chosen man for Ireland. There's no doubt in my mind. It's been many years since I've seen a young man with your faith." "So, will you talk to the presbyters for me?" Patrick inquired anxiously. Victoricus shook his bald head. "I would be happy to, if I thought it would do any good. But most of them think I'm just an eccentric old man.

Anyway, there are some other things we need to explore. We've talked about the important ones, the spiritual qualifications. I'm convinced you're God's man, all right. But that doesn't mean that you're ready to go right now. There are some practical qualifications you must have as well." "Such as...?" "Well, to begin with, to take the Gospel to the Irish, you've got to be able to speak their language. Can you do that?" "Yes, I'm fluent in their language." "Yes, I suppose so, living there six years.

But are you mentally and physically prepared for the hardships ahead? You say you're from a Patrician family. Are you going to be able to endure hunger, cold, nakedness, and the many other hardships ahead of you?" "Without a doubt," Patrick responded immediately, "I'm sure that's why God had me working as a slave for so long, so I'd be ready for such hardships. When I was in Ireland, I was often cold and hungry. I learned how to sleep on the ground or on a pile of dirty straw.

I learned to work out in the rain, even in winter." "Good," Victoricus responded, clapping his hands together. "Now, what about your knowledge of Scripture?" Patrick's face went blank, and the fire disappeared from his eyes. "I have to admit that I don't know the Scriptures very well," he confessed reluctantly. "I've only been reading them for a few months. I didn't have the Scriptures in Ireland." "Eh, don't get discouraged again," Victoricus urged Patrick as he put his arm around him.

"Just because God's called you to Ireland doesn't mean that He wants you to leave tomorrow. He's invested six years in you already. He won't mind waiting another year or so for you to learn the Scriptures. And don't be in such a hurry that you run ahead of God. After all, you're going to need to know the Scriptures backward and forward if you're going to teach God's ways to the Irish.

You can't get by on just a few months' worth of reading." "I suppose you're right," Patrick said in a small voice, dropping the flower he had been holding. "What else am I lacking?" "The other thing you're lacking is that you need to go to Ireland with the blessing and authority of the Church. Even Paul didn't embark on his journeys on his own accord. Rather, he was sent out by the Church in Antioch." Patrick's face went pale, and he swallowed hard.

Sensing Patrick's discouragement, Victoricus quickly added, "There's no reason to feel dejected. You're still quite young. Once you've studied the Scriptures in depth and know the teachings of the Gospel, no doubt God will put in the hearts of the presbyters to send you. Remember, you've got to wait on God's timing, Patrick. In the meantime, I'll be praying for you every day." Patrick thanked Victoricus for his godly counsel. They returned to Victoricus' hut and enjoyed a simple meal of bread and water.

Patrick was feeling more encouraged now. "I will learn the Scriptures backward and forward," he called to Victoricus as he walked away from his hut. "Wait and see." "I'm sure you will. Come back anytime to see me, dear lad," Victoricus shouted back, waving goodbye. That night, in his sleep, Patrick heard the voices of the Irish once again calling to him. In his dream, Patrick cried out to God, but the words were not his own. It was as though someone else were praying through his mouth.

When the prayer ended, Patrick heard a voice from above, saying, "The one who has laid down his life for you, it is he who speaks in you." Patrick woke up full of joy. For the next few nights, Patrick experienced the same type of prayer several times in his dreams. He decided to tell Victoricus about these dreams, to see what insights he might have. "I'm not sure how to describe it," he told Victoricus. "In a sense, it's me praying, but the words are not of my own composing.

It's like they're coming from a greater power within me." "Yes, it's the Spirit who is praying through you and interceding on your behalf. The Scriptures speak about this. Let me show you." Victoricus produced a well-worn copy of Scriptures from his bedside and turned in them to Paul's Epistle to the Romans. "Here," he said, handing the Scriptures to Patrick, "read the passage that begins right here." His gaunt finger pointed to the passage. Patrick eagerly took the ragged book and began reading.

"Likewise, the Spirit also helps in our weaknesses. For we do not know what we should pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself makes intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered. Now, he who searches the hearts knows what the mind of the Spirit is, because he makes intercession for the saints according to the will of God." On reading these words, Patrick's heart leapt. So it was the Spirit praying on his behalf. Patrick had not known what to pray for, but the Spirit did.

"Go and speak to the presbyters again, Patrick," Victoricus urged him. "Perhaps these Spirit-composed prayers have changed their hearts. Meanwhile, I'll be praying for you as well." The next Sunday, after Petronius dismissed the congregation, Patrick went up to him and brought up the subject of Ireland again. He told Petronius that God was continuing to call him to Ireland in his dreams. He then described how the Spirit had been praying through him.

Petronius listened with serious interest and then summoned the other leaders over to hear what Patrick was relating. When Patrick finished, Petronius spoke up. "Brothers, I don't know whether Patrick's dreams are genuine or not, but this past week I've been reconsidering the whole matter. Perhaps God is really calling Patrick to Ireland. We can't deny that He did rescue him from slavery there.

We need to be quite cautious here, or we may find ourselves opposing the will of God." The other presbyters nodded their heads in agreement. "Yes, I've been rethinking the matter myself," one of them chimed in. Petronius then asked Patrick to wait as he and the other leaders discussed the matter alone in a nearby room.

Later, returning with the other presbyters, Petronius told Patrick, "The other leaders and I have decided that if it's God's will that you go to Ireland, then the Church in Britain will send you there to do the work of God." Patrick's face was beaming. "The Spirit has changed their hearts." "At the same time," Petronius continued, "you're hardly ready to embark on such an important assignment right now. You're not even a deacon yet, and you know very little about Scripture, doctrine, or the canons of the Church.

So the Church will first train you in the Scriptures, the doctrines of the Gospel, and canon law. We will not send you out until you have at least been ordained as a presbyter." Patrick was a little disappointed about the conditions the leaders had attached to their permission, but he remembered Victoricus' counsel not to run ahead of God. He certainly didn't want to be a maverick operating outside the authority of the Church.

After a long pause, Patrick finally responded, "Yes, I can see the wisdom in what you're saying. If it's all right, I would like to begin studying for ordination right away." The presbyters told him he could begin his training in a week. Patrick thanked them and quickly excused himself, his heart bursting with joy. He practically ran to Victoricus' hut to tell him the good news. Naturally, his parents weren't overjoyed when they heard the news.

In fact, the next day, they went and talked to the presbyters about the matter. "Don't fret about this," one of the men reassured them. "It will take many years for Patrick to receive the necessary training. By then, he'll probably have changed his mind. My guess is that, in a few years, Patrick will be married, have a family, and forget all about Ireland."