But God hath chosen, the foolish things of the world to confound the wise, and God hath chosen the weak things of the world to confound the things which are mighty; And the base things of the world, and things which are despised, hath God chosen, yea, and the things which are not, to bring to naught things that are That “no flesh” should glory in “His Presence.” (1 Corinthians 1:27–29)
I’m one of those foolish, weak, base things, so in God’s eyes, I’m well qualified. (C’mon—that’s funny, right?)
As a lay preacher and a student of the Bible, Mark Christopher has gained great insight into God’s desire and strategy to spiritually strengthen men and women in their faith. In his 33 years of service to the Lord, he has come to understand the many challenges associated with living for God, as a man, in our generation. Mark is apprehending and discerning his calling as a man of God and is becoming greatly encouraged and strengthened. His great hope is that as others press into these principles that he has come to understand, is that they too will become encouraged in their faith, and strengthened in their calling as a man of God. He resides in Southern California where his greatest joy is serving God and praying for his family and Nation.
Mark Christopher Folan- Foley
I’d rather be a “Lay Preacher” ordained by God, than a lame preacher ordained by some group or person.
“Let’s come together over true biblical understanding through the eyes of the great theologian Matthew Henry“
About the Author
According to the files at the Catholic Charitable Bureau in Boston, I was born on December 23, 1959, to Mary Anne Folan, who named me Christopher (Christlike). The story goes that she was an eighteen-year-old Irish immigrant just off the boat who worked as a domestic in Cambridge. She was supposedly intimate with a very handsome nineteen-year-old Irish immigrant, which made me a purebred Irishman.
At three months, I was brought to the adoption center, and I can still see her kissing me on the cheek crying as she turned and walked away. Thank you, my darling mother, for not having had an abortion. I love you! I figured all of that was just a fictitious story because the Irish kids were going like hotcakes back then. Two weeks went by, and I was starting to get nervous. George Albert Foley and Mary Theresa Foley suddenly scooped me up and named me Mark Christopher Foley (strong and Christlike). God is good.
When the bagpipes play, something calls out to my spirit, and that’s the way it is with my country. I’m not an Irishman; I’m an American who happens to be Irish. Call it the luck of the Irish if you will.
Here are a few quotes from Mark Christopher’s alter-ego. Steven, the “mad” Irishman, a member of the cast of Braveheart:
“This land is mine.” What? America? Yeah, it’s mine! (Smiling) You’re mad! Ha ha ha—Yeah, looks like I’ve come to the right place.”
“If I serve God, do I get to eliminate spirits of hate and division?” Yes, American, you get to eliminate spirits of hate and division.” Excellent!”
“Yes, Father, I’ll ask them,” Is your father a ghost, or do you converse with the Almighty? To find and know the truth, Christians are forced to talk to God.”
“Surely has the Lord brought me to watch your back, America. I never liked division and hate anyway; they’re not right in the head.”
I was born in Boston in December 1959, was raised there, and lived there for thirty-five years. I “paaaked” the “kaaaa,” and everything was “wicked good.” If you’re from there, you know exactly what I’m talking about. Santarpio’s Pizza, the only place where you can still see a Duke and the Drivers T-shirt, the incomparable J. Giles Band, Kelly’s Clam Chowda on Route 1 in Saugus, Nick’s world-famous roast beef in Beverly, baked haddock at the Causeway Restaurant in Glosta—you get the point. When I visit, I love to walk along the Charles River (’cuz I love that “dirty water; Boston, you’re my home,” by the Standells). I walk by the esplanade and recall the times I watched the Boston Pops and the fireworks on the Fourth of July with my bare feet in the Charles. When I’m standing on the bridge that crosses the river looking toward Cambridge while the sun is rising and see how still the water seems—not a ripple—suddenly and seemingly out of nowhere, I notice a college crew team cutting through the glass-like water headed toward me almost silently and in perfect precision. I look up to heaven and say, “You can take the man out of Boston, but you’ll never take Boston out of the man.”