ike Logan’s father was a member of the Irish Republican Army (IRA). He counts Gerry Adams (president of Sinn Fein) among his relations.

Before Mike was as much as a twinkle in his father’s eye, his father came to be involved in what the Irish call a “midnight flit”—from Belfast, in Northern Ireland, to Limerick, in southwestern Ireland. There he met and married a Limerick woman, and, in the fullness of time, Mike was born.

For a picture of his upbringing in Limerick, Mike refers to the book (and the movie) Angela’s Ashes, by Frank McCourt. Poverty, alcohol, and Irish nationalism were the principal ingredients of Mike’s childhood.

Mike Logan intones the fluency, humor, and soft consonants of the south, and his wit and extroverted behavior do much to reinforce the stereotype—and then some. Mike has not so much kissed the Blarney stone as swallowed a large chunk of it.

Headed for Trouble
Mike hit the bottle at an early age, but somehow that did not prevent him from landing a good job and a beautiful wife, Evelyn.

Mike’s upbringing and schooling were Roman Catholic. His mother, who died when he was 18, had taught Mike to “call on the name of Jesus” when he was in trouble. Wrapped around the fender of a truck (he had been driving while drunk) and pouring blood, Mike called on the name of Jesus.

Later, in the hospital, a Christian friend asked Mike, “Were you ready to die?” That question troubled him a great deal for months. Along with his wife, Evelyn, he moved away from his Catholic background and began the long search for truth. They attended services with both the Pentecostals and the Brethren. At some point they gave their hearts to the Lord.

But Mike had been “Jack the Lad”* on the streets of downtown Limerick. Social life in the city did not necessarily include attendance at Mass, but it did include spending a major portion of one’s income in the bars.

Evelyn wept and suffered a lot. Insecurities from her childhood resurfaced as anorexia. She wanted children, as did Mike. They prayed.

Evelyn and Mike were overjoyed as first Joy and then Mike, Jr., were born. The Logans moved to Shannon, where Mike first ran marathons—and encountered Seventh-day Adventists. Mike and Evelyn were baptized by Pastor Don Vollmer. Things were on the up. When Mike was acting elder of the Shannon church plant, Evelyn began to hope that he would begin to train for ministry.

“The story of how Mike Logan gave up a good job to keep the Sabbath is legendary around here,” says Angela OBrien, Shannon’s current elder. And an erstwhile boozy Jack the Lad from the streets of Limerick was about to apply for ministerial training at Newbold College.

Not Without a Struggle
Then disaster struck. Five-year-old Joy was diagnosed with cancer. A tumor was near her kidney. Joy lost her pretty golden curls to chemo-therapy. There was an operation. The Shannon congregation prayed for God’s healing. Mike and Evelyn anointed their daughter. Today Joy has topped 20 and is bursting with health.

Progress through Newbold was hard work for Evelyn, who slaved in the kitchen, as well as for Mike. One day the college treasurer told them they would have to leave the school unless they could come up with £1,000 in back fees. On decision day a grant of £750 was awarded by the British government and a check for a further £370 arrived from a member who “felt impressed” to make a contribution to Mike’s theological training.

I first met Mike at an all-Irish shindy given in the home of Les Hill, whose parents, Captain and Mrs. Hill, had befriended them in the days before Mike forswore the bottle. Mike told me his story.

How could either of us have known that the story was scarcely begun?

What does God do with an Irish Jack the Lad who has been saved by grace and become a gospel minister? As Mike would say: “Let’s cut a long story short.”

Back on the Streets
Mike is working the streets of Ireland’s second city, Cork. When he arrived there three years ago there were no Adventists in the city. In essential respects Mike Logan’s personality is unchanged, and God is using his extroverted friendliness to win souls. A new spin on “friendship evangelism,” perhaps.

Questions for Reflection or for Use in Your Small Group 1. What do the words “friendship evangelism” mean to you? 2. In one word describe the interaction you have with non-believers? 3. What is the greatest challenge in reaching out to non-believers? 4. How would your non-believer friends characterize your religious practice? What do they admire about you?

Mike, now ordained, first made contact with Morris and Mary Lynch and their three teenagers. Morris, a friendly taxi driver, was made elder at Cork as suddenly as Mike had been at Shannon 16 years earlier. Mary, a social worker, teaches Sabbath school. Roy, already an Adventist when he came to Cork, married Caitriona, a local girl who has been baptized. Before Roy was baptized he started his own house meetings in Mitchelstown, where he regularly has seven visitors. After Gerry Bramble had been baptized, his girlfriend, Brid Hannigan, soon requested baptism.

God has fixed up His own “coincidences.” One day, for example, taxi driver Morris gave a lift to Imelda. Imelda, who came from the Philippines, was complaining that she could not find a Seventh-day Adventist church in that large city. Morris immediately said, “I’m a Seventh-day Adventist.” Now Imelda provides the music for Sabbath worship.

And so it has gone: Mike and Evelyn’s neighbors and their children are regular attendees at the Sabbath morning worship, as is a keenly interested minister of the (Anglican) Church of Ireland.

There are now three groups, two in the city, one 15 miles distant, all worshiping the Seventh-day Adventist way. Mike Logan has so many interests and is giving so many Bible studies that he has asked for help. Kevin and Vicky Wiley, of Adventist Frontier Missions, arrived in October, 2001 to provide this much-needed assistance.

God apparently needed a modern Saint Patrick. And He has found an unlikely one. Mike Logan can still look like Jack the Lad—but the new birth has changed him. And God is using his irrepressible Irishness to reach out to those of his own nationality—and the church is growing weekly.

*Typically, a young man who is loud, brash, and anything but a model of temperance.

_________________________
David Marshall is editor of Stanborough Press, Grantham, Lincolnshire, England.