I'm not sure how pervasive the Sunday School Choruses of my childhood were but you probably had to be in certain traditions in order to recognize the one about being in the Lord's Army. As with many of the choruses, it came with fun action gestures. This one had pretending like your were marching, riding a horse, shooting a rifle or handgun if you preferred and making the motion of a plane flying over plus doing real salutes. What's not to like?
I may never march in the infantry
Ride in the cavalry
Shoot the artillery
I may never fly o'er the enemy
But I'm in the Lord's army!
Yes Sir!
I'm in the Lord's army!
Yes sir!
I'm in the Lord's army!
Yes sir!
I may never march in the infantry
Ride in the cavalry
Shoot the artillery
I may never fly o'er the enemy
But I'm in the Lord's army!
Yes sir!
My thinking at that point wasn't too militaristic, but I went with the flow. Not having anything to challenge the concept, I assumed it somehow had its place along the side of the many, many Bible stories and other action songs like "Deep and Wide" and "This Little Light of Mine." My awareness of any conflict between war and peace was quite limited for many years as I readily accepted the popular 'peace is preferred but war is sometimes necessary' construct. Like many kids I played WAR far more than I played PEACE. Actually, I can't quite remember how playing PEACE even goes. I went through several cap guns and other arms like the sawed off rifle from "Wanted Dead or Alive." Sometimes playing WAR ended up in arguing over if it was a mortal wound or not. But if you had enough participants to fight against, it could be a lot of fun.
Because of circumstances and a working knowledge of wound severity, I also collected and played with a plastic army of soldiers in various positions, jeeps, tanks and artillery pieces. It was about the only time I got to be the Field Commander. Frankly, the job wasn't all that hard and I only lost 10-20% of the battles. But when my interest turned to cars, it also turned to real guns. I bought a 303 British deer (formerly human) rifle from my Grandpa Hill. Shooting it and various other rifles was exciting but the best fun was getting a box of 22's and spend a Saturday afternoon shooting everything that looked like it needed to be shot. One time a picture of sign I shot a few times appeared in the paper. It didn't take much to make the news where I grew up.
However, by the time I reached the real army, the only living thing that I had killed with a gun was a deer and maybe a woodchuck or two. Oddly, the Drill Sergeant explained that it was pretty much the same dynamics to kill a human. Fortunately, I was going into a MOS that tried to save those who were injured. The job fell somewhere in between CHINA BEACH and MASH. I liked medical work but didn't get along too well with Army ways.
Similarly, helping the wounded was the only job I wanted in the Lord's Army and that hasn't changed very much over the years. My lack of a this worldly vision and focus was quite limiting. So when it came to church work, I was more like a Beetle Bailey than a Sergeant York. The best I ever did was make it into the Christian "F Troop." Even with knowing most the verses to the "The Battle Hymn of the Republic," I couldn't muster up enough zeal for the REAL BATTLES of church politics. The song is still rather inspiring and lyrically it still carries the feel of a worthy theological conquest.
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord
He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored,
He has loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword
His truth is marching on.
Chorus:
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
His truth is marching on.
I have seen Him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps
They have builded Him an altar in the evening dews and damps
I can read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps
His day is marching on.
Chorus
I have read a fiery gospel writ in burnish`d rows of steel,
"As ye deal with my contemnors, so with you my grace shall deal;"
Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with his heel
Since God is marching on.
Chorus
He has sounded from the trumpet that shall never call retreat
He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgment-seat
Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer Him! Be jubilant, my feet!
Our God is marching on.
Chorus
In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea,
With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me:
As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free,
While God is marching on.
Chorus
I spent time, or maybe did time, in several conservative churches but also a couple traditional and liberal churches as well. I never fit in. I admit that I wasn't the ideal candidate. Let's just say that whatever happens at YFC camp doesn't stay at YFC camp. Despite any indiscretions, I sincerely pursued a calling only to find out much later that I wasn't a people person. I first thought that to be rather funny until I realized that I could have at least committed to something that paid better or better fit who I really was. But I did see and learn a lot. As Nora Ephron said, "Everything is copy."
I had to laugh the other day when I was listening to a podcast. A person said how proud she was to have been selected to remove or change all of the offensive language from a church hymnal. I imagine sexist pronouns, negative ideas, militant expressions, questionable beliefs, and exclusive sentiments were among the targets. I think that's a pun ...but maybe not. She was obviously in THAT part of the army. I could imagine her not even knowing where her shield, helmet and sword were.
There is a reason Amish believers don't make good police officers or infantrymen (infantry persons if you prefer). I am very, very, very anti-war but in this world, I rather fight than lay down my arms, especially if it would protect the innocent. I would say family and friends, but some of them would really struggle trying to pass the innocent test. Don't pretend to not know who you are. The defense of others is the choice we make. It would help if it were more black and white. War is horrible, but it's made worse when everything is some shade of gray.
