Playing armies

 

When I was a kid I spent a lot of time with another family of Army kids. We’d kick a football on the road, ride billycarts, splash around in a backyard swimming pool or, when it was wet (as it often was in Melbourne, Australia), we’d be inside the house “playing armies.”

Don’t ye know it’s wicked to play cricket on a Sunday?
Any worse than playing soldiers, hey old boy?

The eldest boy would always be the officer leading us in an overly sincere prayer, vigorously conducting the band or preaching the hellfire and brimstone sermon. Another would play the CSM, humorously explaining some intricate detail of corps life. My sister and anyone else would be the band, songsters and timbrel brigade. My baby sister did a lot of crying from the pram, and I’d play the part of “Old Wally” who always had a very earnest testimony that started with a whisper and ended in full centurion roar. “Armies” always followed the same basic plot, and we’d laugh ourselves stupid at the jokes and routines. There was comfort in that ritual, and the humour helped us make sense of the strange actions of the adults that we observed in our corps each week.

It seems that a lot of us still hanker for the “good old days” when everything was heavily structured and everyone had their place in the efficient machine that was a Sunday at the army. There was so much happening and so many people involved we thought it would go on forever. Psychologists explain that it is natural for human beings to seek structure and being an active part of the machine can be extremely reassuring for some, but structure that exists without real purpose and a clear and achievable objective is ultimately empty and soulless.

This cartoon above appeared in the Australian Bulletin magazine in February 1885 and was meant to be about Sunday observance, but there remains a far-reaching question for Salvationists, 125 years after its publication. How many of us are guilty of just “playing soldiers” with all of the trappings and routines, basking in our traditions and our public credibility?

I often ask myself how long the machine would continue if we somehow extracted God from our activities. We could get still get dressed up in our finest, the band and timbrels could still provide excellent entertainment, the songsters or worship team could sing something of a feel-good nature; we’d listen to some thoughts for the week, catch up with our friends and head on home. It would be reminiscent of country club membership.

Unfortunately, there are still some corps that operate like that, and it seems that amongst the routine there is very little place for the Holy Spirit to crash through and truly impact our lives and the lives of others. Ultimately it becomes self-serving, empty drudgery that declines into an ineffective navel-gazing.

Perhaps the greatest legacy of the post-modern age is an attitude that rejects doing things just for the sake of doing things. So many of our people now desire involvement in SA activities that are mission focused, outward looking and not based around sections, meetings, buildings or any other precepts. In true “army” style, they are mobilized and ready to do what ever it takes to impact people’s lives for God.

Now that’s the sort of army that I want to keep playing my part in.

2 Comments to Playing armies

1. Amen! You speak in eloquent terms the thoughts of my heart. Thanks for this excellent article Bruce.

   I prepare the weekly newsletter for my small Corps (Dubbo NSW) and I like to persistently challenge my readers (if there are any) to consider why they serve with their hands, and whether it involves their hearts… and whether those hearts are ultimately bent towards God for His glory only.

   May I have permission to quote your words?

   In Him,
   Brett
Brett Phillips on September 5th, 2009

2. Hey thanks Brett. I’m pleased that the post struck a chord. I’m more than happy for you to quote if it works for you. Please remember to acknowledge the site and encourage your people to check in regularly.
Bruce Redman on September 6th, 2009

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