What’s
in a name? A name can be difficult to
live up to, or can be misleading. When
London’s Imperial War Museum was recently refurbished, it was observed by one
journalist that the attraction has often had to overcome one obstacle: “the
three words of its title”[i] – all of
which can turn potential patrons off.
The
Salvation Army, it seems to me, also has a problem with its name. This is more of an identity crisis, a danger
of falling short of living up to its name.
To understand who we are as a movement, a body, a phenomenon, requires
digging deeper into the meaning of our title.
I
will look at the words in reverse order, starting with the most common
shorthand for our movement: Army. This automatically
throws up the much-debated issue of the military metaphor, which is plagued by
the same PR crisis as the Imperial War Museum.
The military metaphor may or may not be satisfactory, although this
article does not call for a name change, but greater ownership of the name.
Similar tension surrounds the Army-related issue of uniform. Again, one can legitimately ask questions
around the suitability and practicality of full Salvation Army uniform
(granted, there is a time and a place), but what we should focus on here is the
way in which our clothing can identify us.
I would also stress the difference between unity and uniformity: unity
is everyone being together; uniformity is everyone being the same. The former is crucial, the latter undesirable
to say the least. Uniformity implies
homogeneity, which is contrary to our DNA as The Salvation Army (the
“whosoever” probably won’t look like a lot of Salvationists). Unity, however, is what we must strive
for. This is born of the kind of
sacrifice, selflessness, and humility present in Jesus Christ (cf Philippians
2:1-11, for example). It suggests a body
of people who are prepared to take a bullet for one another, to put themselves
on the line for the cause and for each other.
Identifying ourselves as an Army carries other implications. Along with the idea of sacrifice for one
another, there is the call to sacrifice on behalf of those whom we serve in
mission. And mission is necessarily
risky. Roman Catholic priest and
missiologist William Frazier once commented that “Those who receive [the
missionary cross] possess not only a symbol of their mission, but a handbook on
how to carry it out”[ii]. Mission is costly, potentially dangerous
business, and an Army is therefore well-placed to engage in this enterprise.
An
Army is disciplined. Trained. In fact, we could shorten the word
‘disciplined’ to ‘discipled’. Our Army
must be discipled, every member a disciple, a student, a follower, of the
Master, Jesus Christ. We seem to accept,
in general, that our music requires commitment and discipline. We build into our programmes musical
practices, but what about spiritual practices?
While personal, individual devotions are essential, and we each need to
take responsibility for our own spirituality, it is clear to me that we need
also to create a culture of spiritual accountability, of training
together. This may take the form of
prayer meetings, bible studies, small groups, accountability partnerships,
mentoring. I would not want to prescribe
how it should happen, but rather that
it should happen. We are good at
training for Sunday morning, but as Message Trust founder Andy Hawthorne has
observed, Sunday morning isn’t the match – it’s the teamtalk. The match – or war, to use our favoured
metaphor – happens the whole week. Let’s
train for that.
As an
Army, we must assess whether we are a marching army or a standing army. A marching army ‘marches as to war’; this is
a flexible, fighting force, advancing into enemy territory, breaking new
ground, pushing boundaries. A standing
army is stationed with a defensive posture, its primary function and duty to
protect key strategic points and guard boundaries. It remains within its own territory, it is
well-drilled in parades and performance.
A good example of this contrast is found in the respective armies of
King David and King Solomon. Only a
generation apart, David’s army was a marching army, while Solomon’s was a
standing army. David (latterly, his
general, Joab) led his troops into battle, expanding his territory, overcoming
enemies. Solomon, however, inherited his
father’s large kingdom, and defended it with a standing army (cf 1 Kings
10:26). Solomon devoted considerable
attention and resources to the administration of his kingdom and building
projects (albeit spectacular ones). What
happened after Solomon should sound a note of caution (his kingdom split,
ultimately collapsing).
If,
then, we are a marching Army, to which war are we marching? For whom, for what, and against whom, against
what, are we fighting? We have “a
burning desire to… fight for social justice” (from the Territorial Vision
Statement). This is consonant with the
gospel, the mission and ministry of Jesus involved a head-on battle with social
injustice in many guises. However, some
will argue that our battle is spiritual warfare. Again, Jesus cast out many demons, and
engaged the devil himself. Paul wrote to
the Ephesians that “our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh, but
against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this
present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places”
(Ephesians 6:12). He then goes on to
list the items of the armour of God, but many of these refer to this-worldly
struggles for social justice, as much as to spiritual battles[iii]. Like the apocalypticists, perhaps we do well
to see battles here, intertwined with heavenly war. Jesus did not see the social and the
spiritual as dichotomous, and never the twain shall meet. Rather, in the mission of Jesus, we see a
holistic approach, whereby people are set free from whatever is holding them.
This
brings us nicely to the concept of Salvation.
What do we mean by salvation?
When someone is saved, what are they saved from? From hell and damnation? We hope so!
But not only as an eternal, yet-to-come possibility, but a here-and-now
reality. For many people, life is a sort
of hell, they are already living as the condemned. People currently suffering abuse, or
survivors of abuse; people who are oppressed, in various ways; people living without
a consciousness of God. People need
salvation from all these situations.
It
might be helpful here to revisit our doctrine of total depravity (Article 5:
“We believe that our first parents were created in a state of innocency, but by
their disobedience they lost their purity and happiness, and that in
consequence of their fall all men have become sinners, totally depraved, and as
such are justly exposed to the wrath of God”).
It seems to me that the total depravity of humanity is not such that every
human being is a monster, with no moral compass, and no possibility of ever
doing any good. Rather, I suggest it has
to do with the breadth, rather than depth, of depravity, the range. Sin has gotten into every aspect of
humanity. Every level and dimension of
human life is under the effects of sin.
In fact, sin affects (or infects) the whole of creation, as Paul
suggests in Romans 8, because of human distortion of God’s order.
Thus,
sin or evil takes many forms. There is
personal sin, which is perhaps the most obvious and easy to conceptualise. I find the following definition of sin quite
helpful: ‘going against the known will of God’.
Thus, if I know (or believe) that a certain action goes against God’s
revealed will, but choose to do it anyway, I am sinning. This is also helpful, because it frames the
issue in relation to the kingdom of God, God’s reign. God’s reign is about God’s will being
done. So, in the prayer Jesus taught his
disciples, we find, “Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in
heaven.” Heaven is the place, the state
of affairs, where God’s will is done, absolutely and completely and perfectly. Sin hinders this heavenly order on
earth. But this sin operates in many
dimensions.
There
is also structural or systemic evil, whereby sin takes hold of structures or
systems (eg, organisational or social) and manipulates these to oppose God’s
will. So, for example, any system which
is designed so that, or as a corollary causes the situation whereby, privilege
is maintained over against the exploitation or disadvantage of others. To ground this example in real life, in a
corporation where the directors are on six-figure salaries, with even larger
bonuses, while the labourers (be they factory workers, retail assistants, etc.)
are on barely the minimum wage (or less, as the case may be), I would suggest
that structural evil holds sway. In such
a case, the salvation war might call us to boycott their business, or to
campaign for greater economic justice (such as the rule of 10%, whereby the
lowest salary in the corporation cannot be less than 10% of the highest). This is just an example, among far too many,
alas, of the reality of structural sin.
Another “consequence of their fall” is bound
up in the problem of suffering. Why does
suffering happen? Why are there natural
disasters that wipe out thousands of innocent lives? Why do good people get cancer? These are questions which cause heartache,
and for some are even deal-breakers between them and God. I have no intention of trivialising any of
this, or trying to explain these away.
Such questions are valid, and deserve to be explored. But for now, I would offer that the world,
the created order, life itself, is under the power of sin, and this means decay
and destruction dog our every step. Paul
suggested something along these lines in what is considered by many his magnum opus, Romans 8, as noted above. It is not just humans who are affected by
sin, but the whole creation. One day,
however, we will see “thy great salvation,/Perfectly restored in thee” (SASB
438), as He makes all things new, and removes all suffering, all sickness, all
sorrow, all sin.
It
seems to me that we are called to advertise this coming kingdom. We are called not to build the kingdom, but,
as Jesus said, to seek it. To look for
it, to anticipate it, here and now. And
that means we can enact it, on some level.
We can work to alleviate suffering.
We can be there when disaster strikes – personal, communal, ecological,
economic, and so on. Sometimes we can
relieve the problem, sometimes we can only live through it with someone. But that kind of solidarity is holy –
Christlike, as He came to share, to take on our pain and weakness, and
everything else that human life and inhuman death involves.
Therefore, if sin affects every dimension of our existence, then so does
God’s salvation. God’s salvation, I
suggest, involves the restoration of all relationships. It involves individuals coming into proper
relationship with God, our Father, through Jesus Christ, the Saviour and
Lord. It involves individuals being
brought together into the new humanity, where they can relate properly to one
another. It involves individuals being
brought into proper relationship with themselves: understanding who God has
made them to be. It involves humanity
being brought back to its initial state of proper relationship to creation (cf
Genesis 1:28ff). A salvation which fails
to take seriously, but also integrally, the individual and corporate and
societal, the spiritual, physical, social, and the ecological dimensions is a
salvation which fails to reckon on the God who is “the Creator, Preserver, and
Governor of all things”, and who as Trinity is perfectly relational, and
invites everyone and everything to join His community of love and wholeness.
And
finally, we come to the beginning. One
little word, easy to overlook, the definite article: “The”. We do not purport to be simply a Salvation
Army, as though there are other such groups.
We make the bold claim that we are “The Salvation Army”, and as such we
are saying that we have a particular, perhaps unique or exclusive,
calling. Salvation, it seems, is our
business. But what is our Unique Selling
Point? After all, surely, the Church
universal is called to this business, to mission, stemming from God, to the
whole world. How do we differentiate
ourselves, so that we can truly own our name and calling as The Salvation Army?
I
would suggest that this has to do with how far we will go. To the ends of the earth? In a sense, although not so much
geographically, as socially. We were
raised up to reach the parts of society that other movements were not reaching. Those who would not ‘fit in’ within the
existing church cultures and structures.
A wise colleague officer once pointed out to me that we are there to
catch those who fall through the gaps – gaps in welfare provision, in church
affiliation, in our communities, and so on.
As The Salvation Army, we are perhaps God’s ‘special branch’, for the
purposes of search and rescue; of going behind enemy lines and bringing down
strongholds; rescuing captives and hostages; disrupting enemy operations.
Comrades, there is a war going on.
Are we The Salvation Army? Often,
I hear those parting words of the Founder ringing in my ears:
“While women weep, as they do now, I’ll fight. While little children go hungry, as they do
now, I’ll fight. While men go to prison,
in and out, in and out, as they do now, I’ll fight. While there is a drunkard left, while there
is a poor, lost girl upon the streets, while there yet remains one dark soul
without the light of God, I’ll fight.
I’ll fight until the very end.”
William Booth’s sight was failing by that time, but his vision was
undiminished. He could still see clearly
that we were called to the salvation war.
One day, The Salvation Army will find itself in the heavenly version of
the Imperial War Museum, as the fighting will be over. There will be no more weeping. No hunger.
No crime, no criminals, no victims.
No addiction. No poverty. No darkness without God, because everyone
will see His light. Our mission will be
accomplished.
Until
then, we fight. We are The Salvation
Army.
[i] Marina Vaizey, 22 July 2014, http://www.theartsdesk.com/visual-arts/first-world-war-galleries-imperial-war-museum. ‘Imperial’ is a throwback to an era many of
us are ashamed of, or mourn. ‘War’ is
not a popular word or reality in many cultures, not least in a liberal
democracy such as our own. Even the word
‘Museum’ makes many of us yawn, I would suggest.
[ii] Quoted in Bosch, David J., Transforming Mission, 1991, Maryknoll, NY, Orbis, p.122
[iii] It seems obvious to me
that Paul would be well aware of these Hebrew Bible references: in Isaiah
59:17, God puts on the breastplate of righteousness and a helmet of salvation
to intervene in the corrupt state of affairs on earth; in Isaiah 11:5, the
servant, the shoot from Jesse, will wear faithfulness, or truth, as a belt;
also, no shoes are mentioned, but the feet of the one who brings good news
(gospel) of salvation are beautiful on the mountains in Isaiah 52:7 (the
content of that gospel: “Your God reigns”); God as a shield is a common Old
Testament motif, for instance, Psalm 18:30, Proverbs 30:5; God’s word as a
sword is not an Old Testament concept, but does feature in the deuterocanonical
work Wisdom of Solomon, 18:15f (“your all-powerful word leaped from heaven,
from the royal throne, into the midst of the land that was doomed, a stern
warrior carrying the sharp sword of your authentic command…”)
