Too much to handle

by Peter Lublink

I

f you have spent any time either as a member of The Salvation Army or with people who have been a part of The Salvation Army, you have likely come across the following phrase: “I didn’t realize that you’re a church!” Or perhaps you have come across one of these other common reactions: “Can a government social services provider really be a church as well?” “Don’t you guys just recycle old clothes?” “Don’t you just help poor people?”

Over the years, many Salvationists have begun to doubt themselves, their essence and their place in the global church as a result of these kinds of questions. For example, the question “Is the Salvation Army a church?” has been raised in the minds of many in and outside the Army. While at times these discussions can be interesting, the reality is that we are unquestionably a “church” in the most biblical sense of the word. But we are also a social services provider on behalf of the government; we do feed and clothe the poor; and we do operate a variety of services internationally that seek to aid people and their needs. And of course, we do recycle clothing and bring new life to old furniture, but that doesn’t mean that this takes away from our number one priority: to see new life breathed into people and their families.

The Salvation Army has both the blessing and the curse of being able to be many things to many people. For some, this has caused a sense of disorientation; for others, the diversity has fed a spirit of ingenuity and led to a plethora of ministry models worldwide. Unfortunately, the disori-entation has led some to want to become more like the Western world’s vision of what a church should be, and it has led others to quite the opposite desire for further recognition as a secularized social services provider. The unnatural division between serving a suffering humanity and proclaiming the good news that some have sought after can only harm us. Our very essence as a Salvation Army is that we are a body of Christian believers, growing in our own walks with Christ and seeking after the physical and spiritual salvation of the lost. There can be no separation between the tasks of sharing and demonstrating Christ’s love.

If you were to consider the life of the person of Jesus Christ, you would note that there is no distinction between the moments he was “ministering” and the moments he was not. Better yet, there is no real distinction between when he was the “church” and when he was not. Christ lived a holistic life of teaching in the synagogues (Mathew 4:23), challenging the wealthy in the marketplace (Mark 10:17), feeding and clothing the poor (Luke 1:53), caring for the sick, preaching on the street corners, caring for widows and children and loving everyone he met (Mathew 4:23). Now there is a great holistic example for the Army to follow.

If we are to remain the Army we were first called into existence to be, we must not draw artificial lines between being a church and serving suffering humanity. There cannot be a distinction, or we have lost the very thing that has been our raison d’être thus far. We are at our core a Christian community mobilized and unified by the principle that we desire to see souls saved, saints grown and suffering humanity served. We are an army of salvation. That is not a 40-hours-a-week job, not a career path, not a matter of church membership and not a profession that simply requires training and certification: it is a lifestyle. It’s a lifestyle to which all officers and soldiers of the Salvation Army have joyfully and humbly committed themselves.

While it sometimes remains difficult to explain ourselves to a curious public and a global church, it becomes a lot easier to explain who the Army is if we live and demonstrate who we are by our actions and choices.

Writer: Peter Lublink is training as an officer of The Salvation Army at the College for Officer Training in Winnipeg, Canada. While his background is in political science, business management and teaching he enjoys developing web and graphics solutions for missionaries and non-profit organizations. Visit him online.

4 Comments to Too much to handle

1. I remain convinced the only way to integrate the two is through an intentional, articulate and focussed attention on our journeys after getting saved into discipleship and formation, and our experience of transformed life not just as individuals but as communities and congregations (that’s a tough one). Why does the wider church, our companions on this faith journey, see TSA as one minister friend put it, as being in a state of arrested spiritual development? (She is brutally direct, and has a lively time with her congregation …) We talk a lot about salvation and getting saved, and then about serving suffering humanity. But we don’t talk about growing in faith. I don’t mean we don’t ever do that, obviously we do at times, but I mean if you just cast a look around the army, what is it all about? Getting saved and sheltering the homeless etc. We have one third of our lives of faith that in general terms is simply not articulated in our church culture, not developed and not celebrated. If we start trying to talk about holiness, it goes where? We need to reshape our spirituality and learn how to both live and articulate it differently in order to integrate the two elements - as (er, Cooperrider?) said, communities grow in the direction of their chosen positive inquiry. We grow as a community in the direction of what we ask ourselves questions about, reflect on, dialogue over and struggle with. We need to step back and listen to ourselves and what we consider important, and I’d argue integrate intentional and focussed ways of discipleship and formation into the practical ways we serve, and vice versa. Do come back and argue - ! :0)
Eleanor Burne-Jones on December 27th, 2007

2. The integration issue stems from various historical roots. The plea for more intentional spiritual formation from Eleanor is an often heard one and certainly in our movement’s wild and crazy youth, we tended to neglect this in favour of more immediate results. Who thinks about middle age or plans for retirement when in the full flower of youth? Anyway, we have ended up paying for this neglect as we have aged.

   However, I don’t think we’ll ever turn into a contemplative community. We are activists, it has been this way pretty much since our beginnings and I don’t think a leopard can change its spots. As a movement we have never really produced any great, worldclass theologians or even thinkers… we tend to scare off mystics, bully the creative, are impatient with the awkward and show a decreasing tolerance each year for the prophets. We are simply too pragmatic. We are defined by our actions and measure success by our achievements.

   The question is: who do we want to be when we grow up (as a people of God)?
   Depending upon your perspective, as a movement we are either in an awkward adolescence and therefore suffering the attendant identity issues; or we entering our dotage and so have become fearful of the future and resistant to re-imagining oursleves.

   There is an adage that says that while the sins of the young are lust, the sins of the old are fear. Both could be applied to us, I reckon.
Geoff Ryan on December 27th, 2007

3. I wouldn’t say we need to be contemplative, as few groups in the church develop that aspect - reflective, certainly, and more articulate and with a broader understanding of spiritual life? Far more monastic communities are active (apostolic) than contemplative.

   Does it seem a bit premature to write off the army has having failed to produce good theologians, thinkers, writers etc after such a brief existence historically?

   As a Franciscan I’d passionately affirm that just because one works long hours in practical service does not mean therefore that spirituality is necessarily diminished or inevitably neglected. If it is, and I’ve seen that happen, those serving tend to become hardened, cynical, and sometimes disaffected generally. They focus on ‘getting the job done’. At that point, with a spiritual director hat on, I become concerned for their spiritual wellbeing and that of those around them. In the disciplined life under vows the brothers and sisters simply have to make time for prayer and reflection as part of their (my ) rule of life. If it gets squashed out they/we are called to account, whether in a religious house or individual ministry, by our spiritual directors or novice guardians etc.

   So I’m not buying the either/or approach.

   The question of measuring our success by concrete acheivements is interesting - in the UK TSA is mainly churches rather than social services, so the picture is perhaps different.
Eleanor Burne-Jones on December 27th, 2007

4. Eleanor…What you have to say about disciplinary supports makes me think that perhaps it is a good idea to think of the Army as an order. Also, I wonder if what “activists” (I call myself a “community worker”) need as much as formation and the accountability mechanisms we associate with churches is something akin to ongoing (as opposed to just during training) “supervision” as it is practiced in psychotherapy. The potential for burnout is as real as is the enemy.

   Andrea
Andrea614Regent on December 31st, 2007

Leave a comment