Real Joy in TSA

Joy Joy Joy! There is Joy in the Salvation Army!

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 f I was being brutally honest I’d have to say that my experiences with the Salvation Army haven’t been particularly joyful of late. Interesting, exciting, rewarding, satisfying, hurtful, frustrating, exasperating, exhausting and disappointing maybe, but definitely not what I would describe as  joyous. And I don’t think I’m Robinson Crusoe.

The really sad thing is that most of the time I just accepted that as the ways things were and just got on with it. That was until the New Year rolled around again and I was determined to “shake the dust from my sandals” and to start the year afresh with a new attitude and a determination to not get bogged down with particular personalities or dwell on the bitter disappointments of the recent past. This was not just some whimsical wish-fest but a concerted effort to want to get on with doing great things for God. The effect was intense and almost immediate.

After spending some serious time in the word over several days, I was just doing some mindless cleaning around the house when I was suddenly overcome with a sense of real joy. It took me by surprise (reminiscent perhaps of C S Lewis), but it felt like I’d been drenched from head to foot by a jug of water. I felt refreshed, invigorated, purposeful, content. It was an incredible feeling that I have reflected on many times since.

Restore unto me the joy of my salvation …  (Psalm 51:12)

I recognized that feeling as joy. Unabated, uncontained, unspeakable joy!  For the first time in a long time I felt like I was in sync with God and I’m very excited about where we go to from here. I’m also now a confirmed addict - I want more joy and not just for myself, but an overflowing abundance of joy which by its very nature becomes infectious and must be shared.

Joy to the world, the Lord is come!

This past Christmas season that song became a reality for me, I trust it will be for you too.

Writer: Bruce Redman is Editor of the Rubicon. He is an Australian film and television professional, radio broadcaster and university lecturer in journalism and communication. Bruce and his wife Anne headed up a team to plant an SA mission in Fortitude Valley, in inner-city Brisbane. He attends Carina Corps and is a lifelong, fourth generation Salvo with a mission heart. Personal Blogspot:  http://neosalvosunite.wordpress.com/

New Year Priorities

Eleanor Burne-Jones shares her shopping list for 2010

These are my ten points that I think TSA needs to urgently attend to in 2010:

1. There are more people in our congregations with frustrated vocations or no sense of vocation than those with one actively nourished and affirmed by TSA.  This needs to totally reverse.

2. Officers need to be held to account as powerfully for discipling, developing, deploying soldiers in meaningful missional service as they are for financial and moral trustworthiness.

3. The army needs to be clear thinking about how to adapt to reach people in postmodernity.

4. The army needs to move toward a clear and shared understanding of how to address the problem of clericalisation and post-Christendom adjustment.

5. The army needs to embed in the thinking of every officer and every new soldier that we are a church planting movement, a movement where planting new churches is normal, not exceptional, and where every soldier should expect to spend a good part of their lives involved in this as a matter of routine.

6. All soldiers need to train in conflict transformation and conflict literacy. if we can’t resolve conflict in life-giving ways we can’t handle change or get anything done.

7. The army needs to attend carefully to its wake (former officers and former soldiers)  and understand how to build trust internally as well as externally.

8. The army needs to grasp that theological reflection should be part of the normal life of any congregation, this particularly because we are in a rapidly changing missional context.  Church planting movements have to handle rapid change, and rapid progress and need to do so by instinctively thinking in an ethically driven way and in a way that values and priorities reflecting on the Bible and on our daily practice as part of a learning community.

9. The army needs to make sure that every officer understands the factors that impede renewal in congregations, particularly the problem of control cultures and leaders thinking in terms of ‘my ministry’ rather than the ministry of others.

10. (but absolutely not least!): We need to get on our knees and pray for powerful renewal and revival … NOW!

Discussion welcome!

 Writer: Eleanor Burne-Jones grew up in The Salvation Army, but gradually left the Army and the church by her mid twenties. She spent more than fifteen years in the Jewish faith, before returning to Christ and The Salvation Army in 2003/4.  She was noviced as a Franciscan at the same time she was enrolled a soldier, and had nearly three years of Franciscan spiritual formation in the Third Order Soc. St Francis before asking to live out her vocation within The Salvation Army. In 2007 she set up Kres Jesu Krist, (Cornwall Church Health) with an ecumenical lay team. They offer training and spiritual accompaniment, and facilitate the Cornwall Fresh Expressions Network for people in pioneering ministries and church planting across the county. She is studying theology, and is a soldier at Penzance Corps, UK and has her own blog.

I was a teenage fundamentalist - part seven

Are we saved to salve?

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he seventh doctrine of The Salvation Army is a doozy. In 22 scants words it establishes a threefold process, involving all three members of the Godhead, which leads to salvation:

 ’We believe that repentance towards God, faith in our Lord Jesus Christ, and regeneration by the Holy Spirit, are necessary to salvation.’

Turning, restoring and changing. Believing, acting and living. Preparing, dreaming and renewing. It’s a doctrine that should delight any change theorist or futurist.
Many Salvationists subscribe to the belief that repentance, faith and regeneration are all ongoing experiences. An enormous amount of work has been done on the three stages of spiritual progression; I don’t intend to focus on them in this piece.

An awareness of our journey towards God, undertaken with God as our travelling companion, successfully helps us guard against our human tendency to form ‘club Salvo’ enclaves; it can also help Salvationists balance between the chasm of the great commission and Christ’s parable of the sheep and the goats.

This is the big ticket item for people who worship at the Salvation Army. It’s also the doctrinal payoff to this article; the notion that those processes (repentance, faith and regeneration), in cahoots with God, ‘are necessary to salvation’.

What’s ‘necessary’? Easily puzzled over; necessary is our get-out-of-jail-free card on life’s monopoly board. It’s John 3:16, writ large in Christ’s sacrificial life and death.
The much juicier, more debated query is ‘what’s salvation?’ What do we mean by the term?

There is currently in several countries (as has occurred periodically in our movement’s history) a big, rear-guard call for an ‘evangelism-first, ‘count the converts’ approach to The Salvation Army. As well as our normal processes of record keeping, in some territories Salvationists are being encouraged to tick off the total of buttocks on seats (duly dividing by two), to record those numbers of supplicants making public or private decisions to become Christians, as well as submitting the numeric totals of folks assisted financially and materially, through counselling and ministry of various hues.

It’s a worthy process, as (arguably) was King David’s divinely-unpopular inaugural census. The focus, of course, falls logically on both the journey and the outcome.
Whereas the founder once grumbled to his troops that ‘no-one gets a blessing if they have cold feet, and nobody ever got saved while they had toothache!’ (duly suggesting a spiritual emphasis and imperative to our social welfare efforts - a kind of John the Baptist ministry to go before the Spirit’s ministry of conversion and transformation), there is another school of thought that says we are rewarded for every cup of cold water given to the thirsty wayfarer.

Good juju, indeed, for every good deed done in Christ’s name, and for his sake.

The theological tug-of-war between interpretations of salvation is nothing new to Salvationists. In his paper William Booth: The Development of His Social Concern (2000), Lieut-Colonel Paul Bollwahn, (citing Roger Green), wrote that William Booth developed ‘a doctrine of redemption which embraced both spiritual and social redemption’. Booth’s dream of God’s salvation and his theological understanding of that salvation, Bollwahn surmised, had ‘deepened to where universal social redemption was as viable as the possibility of universal spiritual redemption…salvation was not only individual, personal, and spiritual; salvation was also social and physical’.

In the newly-released homage to General Eva Burrows (Rtd),  Hallmarks of The Salvation Army (edited by Colonel Henry Gariepy and Major Stephen Court, 2009), General John Larsson (Rtd) writes that by ‘the mid-1880s…The Army’s mission was not only soul salvation but whole salvation’.

It’s a big ambition, worthy of pursuers of a big Deity.

Citing a dizzying number of educational, nutritional, financial, medical, psychological, spiritual and societal programs done by Salvationists and Salvation Army staff, the former world leader says the movement’s mission is ‘truly war on a thousand fronts’ ‘The Army has proved it can do the impossible: fight successfully on a thousand fronts at the same time,’ he adds with beautiful optimism.

While I tend to think we are overcomplicating the process - we are saved through faith, ’so that none should boast’ - the doctrinal verbiage reminds us that salvation is not just a one-off decision to accept Christ and live as a Christian. Nor is it merely a process of gradually shucking off harmful habits and addictions, thereby reducing the damage we do to ourselves and to others. Life is more glorious, more generous than that existence. God’s grace, if lived out in our lives, is bigger than mere survival.

So, salvation is broader than pie in the sky when ya die; it’s also a recognition of being reconciled with the one who oversaw the merging of egg and seed during the very act of procreation. 

That awareness, that we are wonderfully and fearfully made, should bring us into a state of awe. If we are blasé about life then we are blasé about Love (my favourite nickname for God). Living and believing have to go together. Faith without works, as the apostle James wrote, is kaput. But equally works without faith is ultimately lacking.

For the Christian, there is no transcendence - no understanding of the human condition, no grasping of God in human flesh in Jesus - without a cheek-to-cheek dance with mystery.
This spiritual truth, perhaps ironically, was well captured by the 19th century Scottish satirist and historian, Thomas Carlyle. The cranky Romantic and lapsed Calvinist, in Sartor Resartus (The Tailor Retailored), wrote that ‘the man who cannot wonder, who does not habitually wonder (and worship)…is but a Pair of Spectacles behind which there is no Eye. Let those who have eyes look through him; then he may be useful.

‘Thou [who] wilt have no Mystery and Mysticism; wilt walk through thy world by the sunshine of what thou callest Truth, or even by the Hand-lamp of what I call Attorney-Logic [legalism]; and “explain” all, “account” for all, or believe nothing of it? ‘Nay, thou wilt attempt laughter; whoso recognises the unfathomable, all-pervading domain of Mystery [God], which is everywhere under our feet and among our hands; to whom the Universe is an Oracle and temple, as well as a Kitchen and cattle-stall.’

For those in our sphere of influence who may be tempted to try to rationalise their lives away, denying the ultimately-unknowable spiritual dimension of existence, Carlyle had this somewhat belligerent advice:

‘Retire into private places with thy foolish cackle; or, what were better, give it up, and weep, not that the reign of wonder is done [over], and God’s world all disembellished and prosaic, but that thou hitherto art a Dilettante and sandblind Pedant.’

Ouch.

Let’s pursue the mystery of God’s grace. We are saved to save, whatever form that desire and action may take in our own lives and in the lives of others.
We follow Christ, albeit stumblingly at times. As we get into 2010 let’s pray the scriptures and the Spirit guide our footsteps. 

Writer: Barry Gittins is a Melbourne-based writer, lifelong Salvationist, husband (to Trudy) and father(to Emily and Benjamin) who seeks God in everyday encounters. A frustrated poet and playwright, he has worked for the Salvos’ Australia Southern Territory in various roles since 1991: as a journalist (for Warcry, The Young Soldier/Kidzone, The Musician),technical writer and CD-ROM author in corps program (mission development), senior review editor (Warcry) and editor (On Fire). He currently works as a social program and policy consultant (writer/researcher) for the social program department.

SHOW US THE MISSION!

Is HAITI: This Year’s Cause Cé·lè·bre? asks Joe Noland

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e have just returned from a cruise, seven days around the Hawaiian Islands. We didn’t actually disembark once as we’ve been to those islands so many times before. Most of the other passengers did though, having been suckered into those outrageously high-priced, underrated tours by fast talking, opportunistic shylock-type sales people. You’re held captive, emotionally, with little choice but to pay those inflated amounts. They understand the psychology and prey on your weaknesses, relaxed, guard down, defenseless on this, for many, once-in-a-lifetime cruise around this enchanting, Polynesian archipelago.

 SHOW US THE MONEY!

 ”Mo betta” for us, though, as they say in pidgin. While the others were ashore, we had the ship to ourselves with food galore. The word, “gluttonous” immediately comes to mind. Look, I’m going to get my money’s worth, no question about it! I eat like there’s no tomorrow, and with all of that saturated fat and cholesterol coursing through the arteries, there may not be one either - like playing Russian roulette with chocolate chip cookies. And to think while I’m scarfing down all of this food, those other hoodwinked passengers have paid plenty, additionally, to eat raw fish and poi at an “authentic” Hawaiian Luau. By the way, did you know that “Americans scarf down 50 million hot dogs on an average summer day?”

SHOW US THE MONEY!

Hey, when the other passengers are aboard, the pile on my plate pales by comparison. Some of those plates look like Mount Vesuvius just prior to eruption. Or since we are in Hawaii, should I say Kilauea? As do the corpulent bodies attached to those platefuls. The tonnage on that ship easily doubles with each sailing no doubt. Again there is method to this gastronomical madness. It is no secret that the psychological effect of a diet high in carbohydrates is associated with chemicals in the brain that control emotions and mood changes. The accompanying lethargy and melancholy weakens the defenses, paving the way for those slick talking art show evangelicals (found on every cruise ship) to pick your pockets clean. Not to mention those fully framed photos snapped at every turn and purchased with portly abandonment.

SHOW US THE MONEY!

The cruise is over and my thoughts are now consumed otherwise. They hearken back to a Haiti mission experience we had several years ago. I remember thinking to myself while there, This isn’t a disaster waiting to happen; it’s already happened! And The Salvation Army is here, salvaging children out of the chaotic rubble. No fanfare, no high powered, high priced public relations/fundraising campaigns, no causes cé·lè·bres, just sacrificial, humble no nonsense compassion in action: 700 permanent staff year round, schools, clinics, hospital, feeding programs, children’s homes and church-related activities through some 60 Corps community centers across the country.

This while other high-powered charitable organizations sit by idly, oiling their public relations and fundraising machinery, waiting for the next highly publicized disaster to happen.

BOOM! “Show us the money, gather the celebrities, put our public relations plan into action, and when all of that is accomplished we will get down to work (maybe), “feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, sheltering the homeless, caring for the sick and burying the dead.”

PRONTO! “This is hard, backbreaking, strenuous, emotionally draining work. You can’t expect us to do this 12/365! But, we’ll be there, temporarily, when a highly publicized disaster strikes. And you can take that to the bank! Our prowess and expertise in fundraising justifies the high salaries and expense accounts, because proportionally the secondary beneficiaries will get more, even though percentage wise it will be less, when even the ‘more’ is not enough, ever. And besides, we need to earn enough for that next cruise.”

SHOW US THE MONEY!

Check out the high profile disaster relief organizations and ask these kind of questions: Who’s been there 12/365? What kind of salaries go to their CEO’s command? Are they driven politically or philanthropically, secularly or spiritually, economically or compassionately? Is it self-serving or others serving? What are they in this for primarily, the buck, the bang or what’s best for the people? Where were they (organizations) and what were they doing before the tragedy struck? Who benefits most from a disaster? Who benefits least? What comes first, the money or the mission?

SHOW US THE MONEY!

What short memories we have! I’ve been on several cruises and should know “mo betta,” but relaxed, guard down, defenseless, preying on my emotions, I give them the money. We live in one of the most affluent countries in the world, the USA being a veritable cruise ship with abundance galore. Come to think of it, the ship we were on is aptly named, “Pride of America” - Suites, penthouses, restaurants, pools, room service, spas, Las Vegas type shows, you name it. I should know better, but memory is short and I inevitably succumb, only to regret it afterward.

Make no mistake about it, America; there is an eerie parallel to disasters and its purveyors of opportunistic relief, the charity part often being self-serving. What short memories we have! I’ve been involved in several major disasters at the top leadership level and know “mo betta.” I haven’t forgotten the self-serving repercussions following 9/11 and New Orleans, just to name a few. I know the difference between letting your light shine in the trenches “doing the most good,” and letting your light shine in the media “collecting the most money!” And so do the hurting recipients. They don’t have short memories; just ask them.

Jesus puts it all into perspective with an inspired Word to us. Since we’re following a Hawaiian theme here, let me give it to you from the Pidgin Bible (www.pidginbible.org):

“You guys jalike da light dat help da peopo all ova da world fo see. You no can hide one town on top one hill. Same ting, you no light one lamp an den cover um up. You put um up on top one high place, yeah? Den everybody inside da house can see. So, you guys jalike da light. Let everybody see da good kine stuff you guys doing. Den dey goin say dat yoa Fadda, God, dat stay in da sky, eh! he awesome!” (Matthew 5:14-15)

SHOW US THE MISSION!

Michelle Obama, Larry King and other “kine peopo,” I admire and respect you greatly, but suggest strongly that memories be searched before putting your mouth where the money is. The world would be better served if you put it where the mission is!

“Da Boss Above, he take care me,
  Jalike da sheep farma take care his sheeps.
  He goin give me everyting I need.”

PS Liberal or conservative, the message communicated in this Daily Show video link cannot be ignored nor hid under a bushel (Compassion in Action):

http://www.thedailyshow.com/watch/thu-january-14-2010/haiti-earthquake-reactions

Writer: Commissioner Joe Noland’s ministry can be summed up in three words: chaos, creativity and controversy - three elements implicit in any successful innovative endeavor. Cecil B. DeMille, renowned producer of Biblical epics, once wrote, “Creativity is a drug I cannot live without.” Joe’s mantra reads, “Creativity is my drug of choice.”  Access Joe Noland’s complete bio, among other things, by clicking into his website.

How the Greed stole Christmas!

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 heard (and saw) a slightly irregular sermon today (the final one in a series of four) based on the Seuss book/film, How the Grinch Stole Christmas. As a backdrop for the message, the platform was decorated like Seuss’s Whoville, very clever indeed. And a clip from the film preceded the message.

What made it slightly irregular was the title of the sermon, “How Christmas Was Almost Stolen!” and its accompanying Scripture references from Revelation 12. Ever heard a Christmas message preached from Revelation? Read it for yourself, “And the dragon (Herod = Grinch) stood before the woman who was about to give birth (Mary), so that when she gave birth he might devour her child (All children under the age of 2 ordered to be slain)”.

The introduction was titled, “The Grinch’s efforts to steal Christmas” - Devour (Vs 4) Deceive (Vs 9). Its main points came under the heading, “Things to Thwart the Grinch” 1. Christ/Cross (11) 2. Testimony (13) 3. Obedience (17).

Clever, creative and innovative! It’s too late for this year, but here’s your 2010 Christmas message, I’m sure the pastor won’t mind. Google, How The Grinch Who Stole Christmas for an introductory film clip.

The modern-day parallel to Grinch, it seems to me, is Greed: How The Greed Stole Christmas. There is a thin line between need and greed. We see the consequences of crossing that line being played out in the world economy today, all guilty even though America is taking the lion’s share of the blame. As accumulation occurs, need begins to take on a whole different meaning, doesn’t it? Dr. Seuss captures it perfectly in another story, “The Once-ler (from “The Lorax”):

“I meant no harm. I most truly did not.  But I had to grow bigger. So bigger I got. I biggered my factory. I biggered my roads. I biggered my wagons. I biggered the loads of the Thneeds I shipped out. I was shipping them forth to the South! To the East! To the West! To the North! I went right on biggering … selling more Thneeds. And I biggered my money, which everyone needs.” 

The church (including TSA) is not immune to “biggering” and greed, especially with its emphasis on fundraising during the Christmas season. The real danger is that cleverness and competitiveness (the pursuit of “bigness”) will take us off Message; that in a genuine desire to meet need, compromise and commercialism will take precedence and devour the Christ right out of Christmas.

Take this Walmart sponsored commercial for example, one out of several in America today (http://walmartstores.com/Video/?id=1424).

Here we have bigness in retailing and bigness in charity joining together, feeding off each other’s enormous brand image, primarily to fill their coffers. For this purpose, the ad is very positive and compelling, enabling us to fulfill a greater Thneed. It’s the subtlety of compromise that worries me, this being but one example out of many. I’ll let you puzzle over it, but if I’m right let us not be guilty of this kind of Thievery. Remember how the Grinch’s story ends?

“He puzzled and puzzled till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn’t before! Maybe Christmas, he thought, doesn’t come from a store. Maybe Christmas… perhaps… means a little bit more! And what happened then? Well, in Whoville they say that the Grinch’s small heart grew three sizes that day. And then - the true meaning of Christmas came through, and the Grinch found the strength of *ten* Grinches, plus two! Welcome, Christmas, bring your cheer. Cheer to all Whos far and near. Christmas Day is in our grasp so long as we have hands to clasp. Christmas Day will always be just as long as we have we. Welcome Christmas while we stand, heart to heart and hand in hand.”

Heart to God and Hand to Man! Notice the sequence priority in this slogan? No compromise here! Let’s be very careful.

As an aside, coincidentally, my son, Guy, was married this December at the Pasadena Tab - a Christmas wedding. The groom and his groomsmen all wore kilts for the occasion, honoring the groom’s Scottish heritage. Pictured are my two sons talking with Clint Howard, one of the groomsmen. Clint is an actor and played Whobris, the Mayor’s aid, in this film, directed by his brother, Ron Howard.

And those wedding vows recited, beside a Christmas tree, were right on Message!

Writer: Commissioner Joe Noland’s ministry can be summed up in three words: chaos, creativity and controversy - three elements implicit in any successful innovative endeavor. Cecil B. DeMille, renowned producer of Biblical epics, once wrote, “Creativity is a drug I cannot live without.” Joe’s mantra reads, “Creativity is my drug of choice.”  Access Joe Noland’s complete bio, among other things, by clicking into his website.

The lame walk again - Advent Musings #4

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ell here we are at the 4th installment of these Advent thoughts. As I write this today we are exactly one week away from the big day. We are 7 days from the day we celebrate the arrival of the King of Kings … but yet I am ashamed to admit that today my main anxiety is regarding the few presents I want to buy for the people that I love the most. As much as I try to leave behind the baggage of this westernized version of materialistic, consumer driven Christmas where the only entity that seems to come out on top is Walmart, I can’t seem to shake it off.

So these four blogs have hopefully demonstrated my own personal struggles in Christmas. I wait for Christ’s final return in desperate anticipation of the day when He’ll make all of creation right, but yet get sucked into my own selfishness which then contributes to the destruction of the same creation I long to see made whole.

I struggle with all of the brokenness that I see all around me which often brings me down, but yet I’m overcome with joy when I see something wonderful happen in someone’s life. I hope beyond hope for all of the pain in the world to end, but yet I love my life, my wife and daughter, my friends, my job and my church so much that I want it to last just a little bit longer despite the billions of people all over the world who are desperate to leave behind the destruction that they face every day.

So I’ve concluded within myself that these musings are quite a bit about me. And so I’ve chosen to end these stories of hope and struggle with my own.

Many of you will know that I have lived with Multiple Sclerosis for almost 13 years now. It has been full of ups and downs but for the most part has been quite manageable and I have come to grips with it. But this Advent season of waiting has brought with it a very personal anticipation in light of the amazing new possibilities in MS research that have come to light these past few weeks. Most of you will have heard about this already, but for those who haven’t, a doctor in Italy has hypothesized that MS is a vascular disease as opposed to an auto-immune one and that it could quite possibly be cured with a simple angioplasty surgery to open the veins wider and allow for better blood flow. 

I must admit that despite my doctor’s urgings to not get too excited about something that hasn’t been tested enough yet, it has been massively difficult to keep it together since that news hit the airwaves. While I have come to grips with the disease, I have also needed to acknowledge some losses along the way. Lately I have real difficulty in walking and it seems to be here to stay. I can’t stand up for more than a few minutes without it zapping all of my energy. Walking for more than a few blocks is a real challenge for me. I’ve even needed to admit to myself that I now need a scooter in order to get around on longer journeys. So for example, if I want to spend the day at the zoo with my 7-year old daughter Cate, I will need a mobility scooter in order for that to be possible. (One of the Advent miracles within the story is that this week a very generous family has offered to buy me the exact scooter that I need. I’m truly overwhelmed by how supported I feel at times like this.)

I watched a half-hour TV special on this new MS discovery that showed interviews with people who had lived with MS, who had the exact same struggles as I do, who had the surgery and now can no longer remember what it was like to have MS. I watched one man with tears in his eyes speak of how he can now play tennis with his son when he couldn’t do that before he had the surgery. And I found myself longing for it more than I can remember longing for anything in my life. I want to be able to run around in the park with my daughter. I want to go for long walks with my wife. I’m embarrassed to have to need a scooter and be looked at with sympathy and even scorn. I would trade everything I own for this as not one material thing in this world could ever come close to what this would mean to me.

The most brutal thing of all in this is that it’s so painfully humbling to need to be cared for when I’m the guy who cares for others. I hate it. Yet it is a gift to me that I needed even though I haven’t asked for it and I’d gladly give back if I could. It is here that I will turn it over to Henri Nouwen who speaks to me and can speak on my behalf.

Keep your eyes on the prince of peace, the one who doesn’t cling to his divine power; the one who refuses to turn stones into bread, jump from great heights and rule with great power; the one who says, “Blessed are the poor, the gentle, those who mourn, and those who hunger and thirst for righteousness; blessed are the merciful, the pure in heart, the peacemakers and those who are persecuted in the cause of uprightness” (see Matt. 5:3-11); the one who touches the lame, the crippled, and the blind; the one who speaks words of forgiveness and encouragement; the one who dies alone, rejected and despised. Keep your eyes on him who becomes poor with the poor, weak with the weak, and who is rejected with the rejected. He is the source of all peace.

Where is this peace to be found? The answer is clear. In weakness. First of all, in our own weakness, in those places of our hearts where we feel most broken, most insecure, most in agony, most afraid. Why there? Because there our familiar ways of controlling our world are being stripped away; there we are called to let go from doing much, thinking much, and relying on our self-sufficiency. Right there where we are weakest the peace which is not of this world is hidden.

While I haven’t found complete peace in my weakness, I know exactly what he is getting at here and I long for more of it. So I find myself yet again stuck in the paradox of Advent. I long to be whole in body but my brokenness is bringing me closer to my God. I want to be in unity with the Creator of the universe but I want to be able to run around with my daughter too. I want to be dependant on the Prince of Peace but I also want to be independent in this body of mine. I want this peace that comes from only being weak but I desire to be strong while I experience it.

Come Lord Jesus. Come quickly and rescue me from my confusion and make me, along with all of creation, whole.

Shalom,
Dion

Writer: The Concise Oxford is written by Dion Oxford who, along with his wife, Erinn, and daughter, Cate, live in Toronto, Canada and are committed to journeying alongside people in the margins of society. He and Erinn have spent a combined 30 years working amongst folks who are living on the streets of Toronto. Dion is a recovering Salvationist who currently worships at an evangelical Anglican church but still works for The Salvation Army at the Gateway, a shelter for men experiencing homelessness. He and his wife see the solution to homelessness as the church taking seriously the two great commandments of loving God and loving our neighbour. He likes to read, write, fly kites, cycle long distances, watch TV, play in his band and hang out with his friends.

Come and Get It!

The responsibility to be generous was very important for the Jews of Jesus’ day. In an earlier article, I wrote that not all people were farmers, therefore, not all people tithed. Tithing was a gift of food to the Temple for the purposes of feeding everyone who came to the festivals in Jerusalem. Those who did not have farms did not tithe.

With more information, I should make it known that according to Ray Vander Laan; every family had a small farm that provided certain foods for the home. Jews did not farm to make a living, such as present day farmers. To make a living, they would work as brick masons, tanners, et cetera.

Leviticus 23:22 instructs Israel that they are not to reap the edges of their fields or pick up what they drop, but they are to leave that for the poor.

Every family had a small farm in which they grew crops on their home’s terrace. The first crop to be produced is barley. The first ripe barley heads are to be harvested in late March and presented at the Festival of First Fruits. When the fall harvest comes in late September/ early October, the people of God are to leave the corners of their farm and anything they drop while harvesting to be left for the poor. The poor were those whose farms were not successful on a particular harvesting year. This was a welfare system. However, there were no handouts. Those whose farms did not produce were responsible for going into their neighbor’s farms to harvest what they needed. Another point is that there was no dishonor in this because though a family was poor this year and would have to go to another family to harvest what they needed, it could very likely be that the roles are switched next year.

After the poor harvest what they need, the shepherds are then required to allow the sheep and goats into the farms to clean up whatever is left and to leave their droppings, which provide fertilizer for the next farming season. If a sheep or goat gets into the field before the “poor” are able to glean, the sheep or goat is to be killed. The shepherds live in the fields while waiting to send in their flocks. (Remember the Christmas story which tells us that there were “shepherds living in the fields.” This is a clue as to the time of year that Jesus was born. The Shepherds begin living in the fields two Sabbath’s after the harvest season-Late June until the rainy season, which begins around November 1.)

Why is this important for us today?

The generosity of God’s people is to be public. It was up to the one who was in charge of the family crops (blessings) to decide on how large the corners of the field would be. Everyone who walked by the family farms could see whether you were generous or stingy.

In His dust,

Johnny.

Writer: Capt. Jonathan Gainey was born in Jacksonville, FL in June, 1969. He has been married to Staci, the daughter of retired Salvation Army officers, for twenty years and they have four children ages 18, 16, 12, and 4. Jonathan was commissioned as an officer in June of 2002, and is currently serving in his third appointment in New Bern, NC, USA. He is working on a Masters of Divinity from Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary and is the creator and manager of the Flocks Diner website, where his passion for learning and teaching is expressed and shared through writing and a weekly podcast.

I was a teenage fundamentalist - part six

 Unchained, unbowed, boundless

I

 grew up in a very conservative part of the world (Queensland, Australia, under the flawed premiership of the late Sir Johannes Bjelke-Petersen). I was part of a welcoming, loving but conservative family and denomination. “Christianity” was the name of the game in much of public life (even though the Government, Police and Judiciary were ultimately exposed as systemically corrupt).

My class endured the singing nun’s cover version of The Lord’s Prayer played over the PA system in much of my primary school years (in a state school); it was interchanged with Mancini’s ‘Baby Elephant Walk’, depending on the whim of the school secretary.

My sometime-desire to be an inconspicuous Christian in high school was often rendered ineffectual by my appearance in the Corps Band as we played at local fetes or marched in the local Anzac Day parade (a day Aussies and New Zealanders remember their military personnel who had been injured or killed in wars).

In short, I had a fairly public witness and was a ‘known’ Christian; as I am today. I’d add that I was a junior soldier and a young senior soldier who often did not know how to respond helpfully to people who were different from me.

Zayed* was a Muslim that I knew in primary school. We would sometimes play in the same mob of kids at lunchtime, wrestling and kicking footballs around happily. We had something in common, too; both of us were often in trouble with our Mums for forgetting to put our shoes back on after footy (I must have gone through about nine pairs of shoes some years). 

But Zayed was never a close mate. A couple of times he looked at me sadly - I recall this vividly - and said, ‘You don’t really like me, because I am a Muslim’ (he knew I was a Christian; I’d been called upon to pray in the classroom a few times at Easter and on Anzac Day).

As I didn’t have a clue what a Muslim was back then - I vaguely knew we both believed in God - his rejection always struck me as confusing. It was certainly a self-fulfilling prophecy, in the sense that we never really established a lasting friendship.

Deepak* was a Hindu who was one of my best mates in the first few years of high school. He didn’t talk much about religion, nor did I to be honest. I was fascinated by the religious symbol on his door the one time my herd of friends walked past his home, and I met his Mum once and was even more fascinated by the red dot on her head. (At the time I suspected it symbolised her caste and status. Actually, the marking symbolised a third eye/chakra and also indicates that a female Hindu is married. The ‘dots’ are also utilised by Jains and Buddhists).

Apart from sports and some parallel romantic interests - at one stage we both had a crush on the same girl - I never got to understand Deepak and I lost contact with him after grade 10.

Helen* was a gorgeous, voluptuous girl I used to sit alongside and play the piano (badly) with at lunch times in my senior year.

A lovely person, she was also vaguely interested in me - but told me in no uncertain terms that she couldn’t go out with me because she was a Jehovah’s Witness (her decision could have also been influenced by the fact that I couldn’t actually play the piano, thus suggesting a lack of sincerity and dedication to our duets on my part). 

My connection with these three people, and with numerous other folks, was often directed by their and my beliefs about Jesus. I believed he was the Son of God. They didn’t. It got me thinking.

I subscribed, and I still subscribe, to the belief that ‘the Lord Jesus Christ has by His suffering and death made an atonement for the whole world so that whosoever will may be saved’.

While I couldn’t articulate what ‘atonement’ meant back then, and I’d still do a patchy job today, my heart was and is warmed by (I say this at the risk of scaring readers or being misinterpreted) the universal love of God and the desire to reconcile ‘whosoever’ through the sacrificial love and actions of Jesus.

In  my late teens I grew to be near-obsessed with Tim Rice’s libretto from Jesus Christ Superstar. I was a big fan of Jesus Christ’s; I loved him and, in the words of a then-popular Christian ditty, ‘I knew Jesus before he was a superstar’.

I knew from Christ’s parable of the sower that he didn’t expect everyone who heard about him to have faith in him. I knew, also, that he was very suss when it came to religious leaders and the ‘respectable types’ who have scorned the efforts of scores of Christian visionaries such as Bill Booth. People who believed in Jesus, who loved him and wanted to publicise him to any- and everybody they met.

But why didn’t the whole world see what I saw? How come they didn’t ‘get’ Jesus? What does it say about the destiny of Zayed, Deepak or Helen? And what does it say about my presumptions in the first place, or any assumption I felt towards them and their beliefs?

As Rice asked, so they also asked (well, all those who weren’t blandly ignoring him completely), ‘Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ, Who are you, what have you sacrificed?’

What I’ve come to know as Christology comes into play at this point: who was Christ, what was his mission, why did he end up being tortured by the Imperial storm troopers of his day? What did any of it mean?

Rice plays in my head again …

DID YOU MEAN TO DIE LIKE THAT?

WAS IT A MISTAKE?

OR DID YOU KNOW YOUR MESSY DEATH

WOULD BE A RECORD BREAKER

As I previously discussed concerning The Salvation Army’s fourth doctrine, the way you perceive Jesus Christ tends towards a dismissal (liar or lunatic) or an acceptance (Lord). Christ’s first followers were convinced to the point of death that God was within Jesus. That Jesus, the self-titled Son of man, was the Son of God.

Jesus got tired, thirsty and hungry. He cursed and wept. He partied and lost his temper; he loved and he despaired. He healed, taught, walked, worked, argued, sweated, ate and drank booze.

It is Christ’s humanity that gives Christians hope, as it means that God identified with and embraces his creation to the point where he redeems it through a mystical process that, while theorised, hypothesised and analysed ad nauseum, ultimately must be taken on faith.

Scriptures teach, as God symbolically promised back in Genesis (3:15), that Christ died for us, his brothers and sisters, and ‘was made like us in order to be our priest’, mediating and linking us back to God the Father (Hebrews chapter two, 1 timothy, chapter two).

Jesus knew what it means to be human and frail (Hebrews chapter four), to be limited and finite (Hebrews, chapter five). The same man will be revealed, John the revelator predicts, to be the potent albeit confusing embodiment of salvation; the Lamb become the Lion (Revelation, chapters five and six).

Without being able to comprehend what it took to redeem us, the hows and whys that will always defeat us, I embrace and honour Christ’s sacrifice. Like Peter, I see a pattern in how we should live (1 Peter 2) and I look to fit the groove, as is only possible through some welcome and much needed- divine intervention.

* Not the person’s real name. 

Writer: Barry Gittins is a Melbourne-based writer, lifelong Salvationist, husband (to Trudy) and father(to Emily and Benjamin) who seeks God in everyday encounters. A frustrated poet and playwright, he has worked for the Salvos’ Australia Southern Territory in various roles since 1991: as a journalist (for Warcry, The Young Soldier/Kidzone, The Musician),technical writer and CD-ROM author in corps program (mission development), senior review editor (Warcry) and editor (On Fire). He currently works as a social program and policy consultant (writer/researcher) for the social program department.

Raised from the Dead - Advent Musings #3

T

o think that we have just remembered the 3^rd of only 4 Sundays of Advent is shocking to me. Time keeps flying by and it overwhelms me to think of how quickly life seems to keep on happening.

The 3^rd Sunday of Advent is known in liturgical circles as ‘Gaudete Sunday’. And the symbolism of this 3^rd Sunday is perfect for those of us who cannot quite believe that we are this close to Christmas already. The word ‘gaudete’ means to rejoice, and anticipates the arrival of Christmas. It is the first word in the liturgy of the day; 

Rejoice in the Lord always. Again I say, rejoice; let your forbearance be known to all, for the Lord is near at hand; have no anxiety about anything, but in all things, by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be known to God.

Of the 4 candles in the Advent wreath to be lit on each Sunday of Advent, three are purple and one is pink. The pink candle is lit on this 3^rd Sunday as it is meant to symbolize the joyous anticipation of the coming of the King of kings and the Prince of peace. Pink is meant to symbolize the merging of the purple more somber candles with the white Christ candle which gets lit on Christmas day. Gaudete is an early celebration of what is to come. It anticipates light overcoming the darkness, peace overcoming war, hope overcoming despair, and life defeating death.

Here at Gateway we get to have these gaudete days quite regularly amidst the turmoil of the streets. I’d invite you to meet Anthony;

“Imagine the dirtiest, smelliest bum you’ve ever seen. Now multiply that by 100. That was me in 2002,” says Anthony Schofield, now 34.

Anthony grew up in a home with a stepfather who has since lost his life to crack cocaine and alcohol abuse. Anthony had low self-esteem, and his erratic behaviour led his parents to have him placed in special education classes, group homes and a mental health centre. Anthony started selling and using drugs at a young age. His drug problem escalated when he was accepted into the Ontario College of Art. His $8,900 student assistance loan and the downtown school’s proximity to drug dealers proved to be too tempting of a combination.

In 1994, Anthony dropped out of school and started living on the streets. He was one of the first “squeegee kids”, cleaning drivers’ windshields for a donation. “When we first started doing this, drivers were sympathetic to us and quite generous. I was making about $60 an hour.” Yet, this newfound source of plentiful cash only made it easier to feed his crack addiction.

Living under an overpass, Anthony’s white skin turned black with grime. Hardly eating, he dropped to 100 pounds. His shoulder length hair matted into dreadlocks. His face was swollen. His feet were so bruised and raw, he could barely walk. Not bathing for months, he constantly smelled like urine. “Even other bums were repulsed by me. It’s a miracle that I’m alive today,” says Anthony

For four years, he popped into the Gateway on occasion to warm up, get a bite to eat, clean up, or sleep in a bed. “At the beginning, I was belligerent and foul-mouthed with them, and abused the place by smoking crack in their bathroom. And they’d kick me out because they didn’t allow that behaviour. Yet, every time I came back, I received unconditional forgiveness and support.

“One day while in the Gateway, I was really feeling hatred for myself. I started punching myself in the face, and blackened my own eye. The staff at the Gateway held me down so I couldn’t hurt myself any more. They hugged me and prayed for me until I settled down.

“Over the years, they have listened to me and I’ve received counseling from everyone there, on my addictions, on managing my life, on self-awareness. They helped me make the decision to get off drugs. On the day I was going into detox, one staff member dropped everything to drive me to the hospital. The Gateway helped me to get into a recovery home. I lived there one year as a recovering addict, and the next year, they hired me to manage that home, which I did for a year. With the grace of God, I’ve stayed off drugs ever since, and continue to go to Narcotics Anonymous meetings.

“The people at the Gateway gave me the strength to turn my life around. They have become my friends, and they never stopped believing in me. They taught me what it was like to have a healthy relationship with someone, and how to love.

I’ve done a lot to get myself back on my feet, but they’ve supported me every step of the way and still do - I run all the big changes in my life past them. “The people at the Gateway never turned their back on me. I owe them my life.”

Presently Anthony is employed at Gateway as a street outreach specialist. In fact, he tapped into his skills as an artist this year and designed our Christmas cards that we used as a fundraiser (I still have a few packages of these for sale if anyone is interested) In my opinion, he epitomizes the theme of gaudete Sunday in that he is alive and has defeated death.

In fact I would say that he has literally been raised from the dead.

Still waiting but rejoicing.

Dion

Writer: The Concise Oxford is written by Dion Oxford who, along with his wife, Erinn, and daughter, Cate, live in Toronto, Canada and are committed to journeying alongside people in the margins of society. He and Erinn have spent a combined 30 years working amongst folks who are living on the streets of Toronto. Dion is a recovering Salvationist who currently worships at an evangelical Anglican church but still works for The Salvation Army at the Gateway, a shelter for men experiencing homelessness. He and his wife see the solution to homelessness as the church taking seriously the two great commandments of loving God and loving our neighbour. He likes to read, write, fly kites, cycle long distances, watch TV, play in his band and hang out with his friends.

Do They Know it’s Christmas?- Advent Musings #2

As a reminder of where I left off last week, I outlined that at Advent, Christians are asked to remember and reflect upon the past, present and future of what Christ’s coming means to us and to the world. I admitted my own impatience as I wait for Christ’s final return where He will set all of creation right again, but I also acknowledged that as I not-so-patiently wait for this, in the meantime I get the privilege of witnessing glimpses of grace and hope right here and right now.

It’s during the 2^nd weekend of Advent that, among other things, we remember the feast of St. Nicholas. He was a holy man in the 5^th century striving to live out the Christian life in the best way that he knew how. Legend has it that when his parents died he inherited so much money that he’d never be able to spend it all. But instead of living a life of luxury, he chose to use that money to help people who were struggling through poverty.

Legend has it that there was a widow that he knew of that had 3 daughters. The widow had no source of income and so was very close to turning her three daughters out to the streets as prostitutes in order to pay the bills and put food on the table. But good old St. Nick was having none of that so he filled 3 bags full of gold and either slipped them in the house through a window or a door, or actually dropped these bags down their chimney. The woman and her daughters were spared a life of humiliation and degradation.

Long story short, this is the origin of our current form of gift giving at Christmas as well as what has now become Santa Claus. This very righteous act of kindness has been destroyed over the centuries by human greed and turned into the disgusting self-centred shop-till-you-drop nastiness that is Christmas today.

At Gateway, thankfully we’ve seen some resistance to this.

Every year we have a Christmas store. We know that the men who stay with us have loved ones (a child, a parent or family member, a partner, etc.) that they want to give a gift to. But being homeless doesn’t exactly make it easy to go and buy something for them. So unfortunately every year they have to go and beg for these gifts from some gift depot or toy distribution place and give it to their loved one. But deep down inside it becomes another humiliating reminder of their inability to provide for the ones they love. So we at Gateway buy about $1000 worth of toys and trinkets and set up a Christmas store. Then our residents can either buy these gifts at very discounted prices, or they can do chores to earn coupons to purchase them. This way, when they give their loved ones a gift at Christmas, they know that they’ve earned it and didn’t have to beg for it. After all, as Jesus Himself has said, “It is more blessed to give than to receive.”

But some guys are so alone and so alienated from anyone that they once loved, that they have no one to give a gift to at Christmas. So last year a group of men who fit this description showed me a beautiful glimpse of wonder and hope and community. These 3 or 4 men decided they’d do a bunch of chores and earn as many coupons as they could, and then buy up as many things as possible from our Christmas store and donate them back to a gift distribution centre so that they could help less fortunate families at Christmas. After all, it is more blessed to give than it is to receive.

Now, while this was quite a bit awkward for us as it sort of defeated the purpose of what we were trying to do, it was a moving display of beauty and selflessness that really demonstrated that while the world certainly isn’t all right, there are some miraculous things to witness right here and right now that remind us that there is still much to hope in; even amongst those that much of the rest of the world has discarded and left behind as having no value.

So in this 2^nd week of Advent, let’s reclaim the legacy of St. Nicholas and let’s keep our eyes open for glimpses of hope. They’re all around us; especially in places we least expect to find them.

Still waiting.

Dion

Writer: The Concise Oxford is written by Dion Oxford who, along with his wife, Erinn, and daughter, Cate, live in Toronto, Canada and are committed to journeying alongside people in the margins of society. He and Erinn have spent a combined 30 years working amongst folks who are living on the streets of Toronto. Dion is a recovering Salvationist who currently worships at an evangelical Anglican church but still works for The Salvation Army at the Gateway, a shelter for men experiencing homelessness. He and his wife see the solution to homelessness as the church taking seriously the two great commandments of loving God and loving our neighbour. He likes to read, write, fly kites, cycle long distances, watch TV, play in his band and hang out with his friends.