“I want to be a soldier of the cross

Brave-hearted and true…”

Once we were “red-hot and righteous”—now we are “The Most Effective Organization in the United States.”

I’ve been wondering—what does that mean? Does it indicate progress? Maturity? Growth? Keeping up with the times? What’s it mean to be red-hot? Do we really measure effectiveness? How?

I’m proud of this Salvation Army—most of the time—and love it all of the time. It’s where I’ve spent a significant portion of my life. It’s where I found my wife and helped raise our children. It’s where I’ve made my “best” friends and discovered my spiritual self.

“I’ll never let the old flag fall…”

No, I won’t…although I might suggest that we change the words on the flag because we fail to communicate to the public their original intent (heresy—heresy). Here’s a thought. How about…Love and Justice.

So you see, I’m an enigma. Somehow, I have this passionate commitment to our Army’s traditions of working with the total person—facilitating development in the entire human organism: mental, physical, emotional, social and spiritual. The last is what everyone else leaves out. I’m glad we’re not serving any particular class, race or gender structure. We’re committed to anybody and everybody. We don’t forget about saving and serving the poor, the destitute, downtrodden and marginalized. That is the Jesus plan.

“And we’ll roll the old chariot along…”

I don’t think we’re dragging on behind, but I don’t know about everything we do. I’m grievously disappointed when we close programs serving the poor on skid row or any other part of town. I’m saddened that we have given up elements of foster care for difficult young children and adults who tend to act out their dissatisfaction with a society that turns its back on them. I understand the rationale for such decisions, but have a difficult time accepting it. The explanation for almost any program closure seems shrouded in dollar signs.

Personally, I believe the Army should always be just a little bit in debt, and then turn the responsibility for raising the difference over to God.

Simultaneously, however, I want to be an instrument of significant change, and am delighted when territorial leadership approves and invests in programs that have “future” written all over them. That’s the way I perceive Jesus, and I want to walk with him…

“All the way to Glory.”

Being red-hot and righteous and highly effective are not mutually exclusive. We can be both. We must, however, be passionate if we are to be red-hot. Also, we must be knowledgeable and skilled if we are to be effective. They must be combined.

So, how does one measure organizational passion? I believe we measure it by the quality and leadership of programs serving a designated population.

We need programs that stimulate soldiers to be in helping relationships with those in need, and we need more soldiers with a passionate willingness to sacrifice some time and effort to meet that need. As soldiers, we have become overly willing to delegate all social services. We lose a vital opportunity. We fail too often to minister to those to whom Jesus called us. We might not be willing to return to the days of the “Slum Sisters,” the “broom brigades” or the “boozers parades,” but soldiers still need to feel motivated to be much more than simply church members.

“Launch out into the deep

O let the shoreline go!”

In my judgment the current territorial leadership loves action and moves without fear into uncharted waters. This is a perfect time for action.

We’re great at disasters. Shortly after terrorists destroyed New York’s Trade Center towers and portions of the Pentagon, an article appeared in Worth magazine titled “Calling in the Troops.” In it, John Sedgwick and Loch Adamson said: “The Salvation Army has been called the most effective organization in the country. New York City now knows why.”

The “why” described an immediate response appropriate to the problem, a focus on mission, a stimulation of volunteers, perseverance of commitment, and an application of Christian love—delivered with passion.

The same thing happens with every other manmade or natural disaster.

There are disasters, however, that receive much less attention. They are the unpublicized, small-scale human disasters generating one small story in the morning paper. It only touches a few. Somehow, we need to study various such circumstances, determine what can be done, and train responders to do it.

“I’m a soldier should you want me,

You’ll find me in The Salvation Army.”

The Long Beach Grand Prix is finally over and the streets of the city can get back to normal. For the past two or three weeks, there has been a restriction on turning left from Pine Avenue onto Ocean Boulevard. Meaning those of us at DHQ and THQ must go right on Ocean and then make a U-turn at the first opportunity. However, it is amazing how many THQ and DHQ drivers I saw ignoring the “no left turn” sign and zipping over to the left lane. I never saw anyone get a ticket, but a lot of us ignored the warning sign.

I’ve seen many funny warning signs. In Singapore we saw people sheltering under palm trees beside signs that said, “Beware of falling coconuts.” There is a sign in a church (not Salvation Army) that says, “WARNING—articles of value should not be left on seats when receiving Holy Communion.” The Newcastle (Australia) Tramway Authority posted signs that said, “Touching wires causes instant death—$200 fine.” Then there was one sign which said, “Violators will be towed and fined $50.” That should cover the cost of towing. A sign in Myanmar reads, “Please do not sit on crocodile,” and my favorite says, “Children left unattended will be sold to the circus.”

Life has its warning signs too. I have noticed as I get older my body is giving me more and more serious warnings every year. Recently, I have discovered I can no longer race my granddaughter on a scooter, nor can I eat an ice cream sundae at bedtime and expect my blood sugar to be normal.

The Bible has plenty of warning signs. Israel was told many times in the Old Testament about what would happen if they disobeyed God’s commands–and for the most part, they ignored them. Perhaps one of the most serious in our day is found in Revelation 22:18, I warn everyone who hears the words of the prophecy of this book: If anyone adds anything to them, God will add to him the plagues described in this book. And if anyone takes words away from this book of prophecy, God will take away from him his share in the tree of life and in the holy city, which are described in this book.

Ah, yes! I can hear you say, but that only applies to the book of Revelation. Then turn to Deuteronomy 12:32, “See that you do all I command you; do not add to it or take away from it.” And in Deuteronomy 4:2 Moses says, “Do not add to what I command you and  do not subtract from it, but keep the commands of the Lord your God that I give you.”

God’s word was written under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit and has never changed and never will. What God has decreed as sin, is still sin. So we are warned by God not to mess with it. Not to try to make it agree with our opinions, or fit into our culture. Culture cannot change the Word of God, but the Word of God can and must be used to change culture.

One final warning from Leonard Ravenhill, “If the whole church goes off into deception, that will in no way excuse us for not following Christ.” Christ trumps culture. Don’t take my word for it, take God’s Word.

Lately, I have spent a fair amount of time searching for the unexpected. Normally, I would not have to search very long or hard in order to experience the unexpected, but in this instance I needed to come up with something appropriate for the 2013 Youth Councils theme: “Unexpected.”

A cryptic message from a fortune cookie at my favorite “fast casual” Asian restaurant encouraged me in my quest: “You will find your solution where you least expect  it.” An intriguing paradox for sure; finding things in the most unexpected places. A concept not unlike losing your life to find it, the last being first, or the requirement that those seeking greatness must first become servants of all. On another occasion, I might have enjoyed pursuing such a path in exploring this topic but I was drawn to consider the unexpected as recorded in Acts chapters 3-4.

There we find a man disabled from birth who expects Peter and John to give him some money as the two disciples pass through the gate called “beautiful” on their way to afternoon prayers.

But on this particular day, instead of receiving a few sympathetic coins, a miracle happens. An unexpected act of kindness takes place. The disabled man is made whole. He is able to walk for the first time in his life. And, as you would expect, he is absolutely elated.

The onlookers who witness this unexpected miracle are completely awe-struck—filled with surprise, wonder and amazement. They can’t believe what they are seeing. Meanwhile, the religious leaders of the day are both dismayed and astonished by this miracle. They cannot understand how uneducated, ordinary men like Peter and John could possibly be used by God to accomplish such things.

As always, the Bible is crystal clear: It is not the “power or godliness” of Peter and John that heals this man but God’s power; the power of Jesus’ name at work doing unexpected things through them (Acts 3:12 NIV).

I believe that God is searching today for unexpected potential in unexpected people who are willing to do unexpected things for his kingdom. Like Peter and John, we are God’s silver and gold. We are the very best God has to offer a sin-sick, weary world where unexpected, often unwelcome and sometimes profoundly disturbing events threaten to rob us of our humanity.

In recent days we have seen incredible heroism, compassion and kindness directed toward those impacted by these unexpected events. In every case, the consecrated self we offer in service to others is always the most personal, the most powerful, the most precious gift we bring. It is a treasure we carry in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us (2 Corinthians 4:7).

Through the love of God our Savior all will be well;

Though we pass through tribulation, all will be well;

We expect  a bright tomorrow, all will be well.

Mary Peters (1813-56)

You can hear the trains from my house. It’s not so much the clickety-clack of the wheels as they run along the steel tracks, although if it is especially still outside you can just identify that pulsing rhythm as an undertone of movement. No. It’s the horns! Running north and south through town, both passenger and freight trains are required to sound their presence at every street grade intersection where the tracks cross a street. The piercing blast of noise carries easily, catching your attention in a crescendo of sound as the train approaches and then fading away as the engine moves further down the line. I prefer to sleep with the window wide open and I can tell you this: this is a town with a lot of intersections!

I happen to love trains—watching them and riding them—and it’s not the first time I’ve lived so close to the tracks. Most of the time I hardly notice the noise and, for the most part, getting caught behind a lowered crossing bar when I’m driving around town is an enjoyable moment of pause in an otherwise crazy busy day.

The topography and skyline of Salem are pretty flat and as the sound of the train horns caught my attention last night, it occurred to me that living our lives for Jesus has to happen at street grade. His instruction in Matthew 5, to go as salt and light to the world wasn’t a lesson in culinary skill or interior decorating. It was about being “boots on the ground,” present and engaged at street level. And I started to wonder, when was the last time any of us carved out the time and space to live at street grade?

I recently changed television providers at home and in assembling the package of services, I decided to include a DVR (digital video recorder). I’m not sure if it was a smart move or not. Although I love the fact that I can record programs from all hours of the day and night and save them to watch at my convenience—I do find that lining up the recordings and checking out whatever is on the playlist can easily fill hours of time.

I remember well, the evening I was first introduced to this new electronic contraption. I had just returned home from assignments in Europe and was enjoying fellowship with officer colleagues. They gave me a quick demonstration of the system. Wow! With hundreds of TV channels to choose from, having this means of managing a family’s viewing was simply amazing to me. But in the split second that followed, I recall thinking to myself how easy it would be to never leave the house. Huddled up safely with a glimpse of the wider world as seen through a camera lens, yet never experiencing it for ourselves. And now some years later, I am the possessor of a DVR and I wonder to myself if I’ve been wise.

Engaging the world at street grade means we actually get out on the street. I was fortunate to have many friends from home come and enjoy some vacation based at my place in each of my appointments in Europe. The end of day debrief, as they returned home from the wanderings of tourism, almost always started with, “I just love walking around…” (insert name of the city).

At street level, you see the intricacy of carved doorways and the beauty of children playing in the park. At street level, you hear the sounds of life expressed in the movement of heavy equipment and the laughter of men telling stories about days past. At street level, you are confronted by the odors of need and the color pop of the first shoots of spring green. Imagine being salt and light there?

The psalmist David wrote, Teach me to do what you want, because you are my God. Let your good Spirit lead me on level ground (Psalm 143:10).  Sounds to me like living at street grade. May it be so.

How does a person seek help from God when he or she is having difficulty accepting the tenets of the Christian faith, if help is desperately needed now? This is a challenge we must be bold enough to confront when reaching out to the lost and disenfranchised in our charge.

As chaplain, I have found a method which works for me. But when I share with others that I sometimes encourage Adult Rehabilitation Center (ARC) beneficiaries that they might begin by praying “to God as they understand him,” I am often met with astonishment!

Today I want to clarify my actions—and suggest that this approach is in line with Salvation Army founder William Booth’s philosophy of “soup, soap, and salvation”—everything in its proper order. Booth realized that a person’s physical needs for food, shelter, personal hygiene and self-worth must be addressed, as well as spiritual needs. A corollary to this philosophy is the famous Alcoholics Anonymous slogan: “First things first.” In sharing Christ, what counts are results.

The Reverend Samuel Shoemaker, rector of Calvary Episcopal Church in New York, coined the phrase “God as we understood him,” which we find in the literature of Alcoholics Anonymous—as well as that of its numerous spinoff 12-step programs.

Shoemaker had what I believe was good reason for introducing the method. Here’s his thinking:  “Any honest person can begin the spiritual experience by surrendering as much of himself as he can, to as much of Christ as he understands. Begin honestly where you are” (Shoemaker, “Extraordinary Living for Honest Men”). Elsewhere he writes: “Congregational minister Horace Bushnell once said, ‘Pray to the dim God, confessing the dimness for honesty’s sake.’ I was with a man who prayed his first real prayer in these words: ‘O God, if there be a God, help me now because I need it.’ God sent him help. He found faith. He found God…God will come through to you and make himself known” (“How to Find God”).

I agree with Shoemaker, for I have seen men—and was once one myself—who cannot swallow all of Christian theology in one gulp. Just a few days clean and sober, their mind’s full of cobwebs, they come to us with a million questions and doubts about organized religion. They are enormously anxiety-ridden, struggling moment by moment with whether to stick around or run and go get drunk or high.

After an assessment of the individual, if the wall of understanding appears impervious, then, like Shoemaker, I advise him to reach out to the God of his own understanding, to whatever vague concept of God he may have, and seek his help. I encourage him then to watch what happens next. I direct him: “Surrender as much of yourself as you can to as much of God as you understand.” I quote James 4:8—Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you.

I tell such men, “Let’s begin where you are. You currently have a wall up against the Christian faith—it will take you time to get there—yet we both agree that you need to latch on to God’s power today! Not later!  Let’s start from where you are, and over the next days and weeks, as you listen to the sermons, hymns and Bible studies, hopefully these deeper matters will become clearer to you.”

It is my experience that the vast majority of the men and women who begin their spiritual journeys in our ARC programs—and remain for the full six months—regardless of their religious backgrounds eventually find Christ there. Over the course of extensive spiritual immersion—twice a week chapel services, Bible studies, and daily morning devotions—they ultimately give considerable thought to the Christian faith. As they see many of their prayers answered and repeatedly hear testimonies from others who declare themselves empowered by Christ, most who begin by praying to “the dim God,” eventually find the Trinitarian God of Scripture. The philosophy that works is “one day at a time.”

When management guru Peter Drucker called The Salvation Army “the most effective organization in the U.S.,” he was only confirming what people who work there already believe—that well-trained leadership, careful infrastructure, and a clear, spiritually based mission keep the focus on “soup, soap, and salvation.” The “God as we understood him” approach is part and parcel of this soup and soap philosophy—it leads to salvation.

BY NATHAN DARLING, CADET

When I returned to school in 2011, as a cadet at the College for Officer Training (CFOT) at Crestmont with the Proclaimers of the Resurrection Session, I faced some challenges.

Although I previously trained in pastoral ministry, I completed that schooling in 1983. As a 21st century student, I came face to face with my almost nonexistent computer skills. Also, once the first quarter got into full swing, I found my schedule much fuller than I was used to, even as a seminary graduate. I struggled to keep pace with everything.

What started as struggles, though, turned into blessings. By the midway point of that quarter, I began to get comfortable with the computer and I adjusted to the rhythm of school life. When I returned from my first Christmas assignment, I was no longer anxious about managing everything. I now felt like a veteran. I appreciated the full schedule—it was providing experiences to equip me for the life and work of an officer.

Another CFOT blessing is the exposure to Salvation Army culture and personnel—especially helpful to me as I had attended just one corps for two years before entering training. Through classes on music, business and Salvation Army history, I learned what the Army is all about. I also broadened my circle of Army acquaintances through meeting people at school, at out-Sundays in area corps and in extended off-campus assignments. I almost feel like I have always been a Salvationist.

God used my time here as an opportunity for spiritual deepening. The schedule encourages this, with spiritual assemblies three times a week, small group discipleship meetings once a week, and a variety of men’s and women’s meetings. In addition to out-Sundays at area corps, we enjoyed excellent Sunday services on campus. The schedule also allows personal fellowship with God. I even had some great prayer experiences in the midst of house duties.

If you have felt the call to officership, you will be thankful for your time at the College for Officer Training.

Two articles in the current edition of The Officer magazine emphasize the Army’s commitment to the process of human transformation—a changing of one’s belief system and lifestyle. One, by General Linda Bond, titled “I Believe in Transformation,” focuses on her hopes for the international Army’s accomplishment of one of her 12 goals: “We will reaffirm our belief in transformation.”

In her article, she speaks poignantly of her great friend, General John Gowans, recently promoted to Glory: “He experienced the ultimate transformation, that dramatic change, ‘…the perishable clothed with the imperishable, the mortal with immortality…death swallowed up in victory’” (1 Cor: 15:53, 54).

Bond considers a number of dramatic accounts of different individuals who, themselves, were transformed. “Let’s never shy away from our belief in transformation,” she writes.

“What God has done, he still can do; his power can fashion lives anew” (Salvation Army Song Book, no. 335).

The second article, by Lt. Colonel Laurie Robertson, questions the reader: “Are people being transformed by God?”

“The Salvation Army exists because God still wants to use it to transform people—which means getting people saved and living holy lives,” Robertson writes. “It involves a complete change.”

Both Bond and Robertson refer to John Gowans’ song in our Song Book (no. 324):

I believe in transformation,

God can change the hearts of men,

And refine the evil nature

Till it glows with grace again.

Others may reject the weakling,

I believe he can be strong,

To the family of Jesus

All God’s children may belong.

It’s evident here that the word “transformation” as used by these writers has spiritual intent, probably based on Romans 12:2, where Paul urges: Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.

Anything that can change can also be transformed. Also, anything that can be transformed can also be converted. These are all synonyms. Webster’s Encyclopedic Dictionary of the English Language contains more than two pages of words beginning with the Latin prefix “trans.” The prefix itself has multiple meanings as does the word “transform.”

Paul’s phrase “the pattern of this world” indicates anxieties found in various religious circles concerning aspects of “worldliness.” The Army perceives itself as “in” but not “of” the world. Thus, we circulate among sinners. The concern here is negative incursion on individuals by the common culture. The “new” becomes threatening and, therefore, often receives the label of “sin.” There has always been, and there is now, great tension between the enticements of some facets of the common culture and the belief systems of religious groups. This fact has not changed since the beginning of time.

Paul, himself dealt with it in Galatians 1 as the Christian churches he had initiated in this region were confronted by Judaizers, Jewish Christians who believed that a number of ceremonial practices of the Old Testament were also required by the New Testament churches.

For instance, if a group holds values that demands strict separation from a society that embraces the values of the common culture, it would isolate itself and resist anything that facilitated information about or connection with others acting on those values. No telephones—wireless or wired. No television—cable, satellite or regular transmission. No newspapers or magazines. (My grandfather, a retired Salvation Army lt. colonel, was shocked that my father allowed my brother and me to read the comics in the Sunday paper.)

The culture grows. Some call it progress. Others call it sin. Each must test God to determine for himself or herself right action versus wrong action.

Let’s explore, now, factors of a spiritual nature related to Paul’s phrase “the renewing of your mind.”

The prefix “re” comes to English usage through the Latin and means “again” or “again and again.”

Paul writes that the means by which one is transformed comes with mind renewal. We must change the way we think. Thought triggers feeling, and feeling triggers behavior.

Referring to our first parents, he writes of the godlessness of mankind: Since (mankind) did not think it worthwhile to retain the knowledge of God, he gave them over to a depraved mind to do what ought not to be done (Rom. 1:28).

We must, therefore, grow in knowledge of God and, thus, make our minds new.

From this, I presume that Paul saw the relationship between thought and behavior. Belief is “mind” driven. We use our cognitive processes, our minds, both to maintain a strong belief system in a God we’ve never seen as well as to justify mind slippage as the culture presents us with a wide array of choices—some very good, and some very harmful. To achieve transformation, we must change the way we think as we seek to test and approve God’s will for us.

While sometimes we may have difficulty seeing the forest because the trees get in the way (i.e. getting so caught up in the details that we fail to see the larger picture), we are faced with equally troublesome issues when the converse is true: those times we get so focused on the forest that we miss the trees altogether! In other words, we look with consternation on the immensity of our mission (i.e., winning the world for Christ and meeting human need in his name), and are overwhelmed and immobilized by the apparent impossibility of achieving our objectives. We stare in wide-eyed, petrifying panic at a sinful, self-destructing world, and are convinced in our innermost being that we are fighting a losing battle.

Satan appears to be winning on every side, and we cry out for reinforcements that we don’t really expect to show up. We dream of a world at peace, and wake up daily to a nightmare brought home to us in living color by the relentless and depressing reports of the news media. We want to retreat into a protective cocoon of home and family, to leave the ills of the world to be solved by someone better prepared to deal with them, but no one is stepping up to take up the fight. We want to cry out with Elijah, “I have worked very hard for the Lord God of the heavens; but the people … have broken their covenant with you … and only I am left” (1 Kings 19:10 TLB).

I wonder sometimes if we think we would be happier to be David, playing his harp and singing the Lord’s song as he cared for the flock in his care, rather than to be like the David who took only his sling and a few stones to face the fearsome Goliath, representative of the might of the Philistine military, because he was convinced that his God was ready and able to overcome the enemy. And all this assembly shall know that the Lord saves not with sword and spear; for the battle is the Lord’s, and he will give you into our hands (1 Sam 17:47 AMP).

Sometimes we forget that young David challenged not only the mighty Goliath, but the might of the entire military force of the Philistines. He was so certain that the outcome of the battle was entirely in the hands of Jehovah God that he refused the protective armor King Saul tried to force on him and actually ran toward the battle line to confront Goliath! David knew without doubt that God was able to use him, an adolescent untrained in the art of war, to do the impossible! Goliath was brought down by a single stone, slain with his own sword, his army was fleeing in panic—all because a boy trusted God to defeat an apparently invincible army.

David understood clearly the situation. It was unreasonable to believe that a boy could defeat a mighty army—but God is not limited by the perceived “reasonableness” of any situation. He was—and is—capable of  bringing glorious victory over a seemingly insuperable foe.

In those moments when we gaze upon a lost world and sigh at the enormity of the task, when we weep helpless tears and fear that the devil is gaining the upper hand—when we throw up our hands, and say, “Lord, I just can’t!”—that’s when the Lord reminds us: The battle is the Lord’s!

So, we assess, we analyze, we plan, engaging God in every detail. We recognize the enormity of the challenge, and strategize to break down the immense task into doable steps. And then, armed with the grace of God and the power of his Word, filled with renewed vision, we march out to confront the enemy and reach the lost with his message of love. We cannot, in good conscience before the Lord, do otherwise.

Edward Everett Hale, a 19th century clergyman, expressed the situation clearly:

I am only one, but I am one.

I can’t do everything, but I can do

            something.

And that I can do, I ought to do.

And what I ought to do,

by the grace of God, I shall do.

I am grateful for all that The Salvation Army is and the good that we have been able to extend for the well-being of the spiritual and physical lives of our neighbors.

Conversely, I am grieved by the missed opportunities and willingness to settle for what looks good on the surface, but lacks substance and life-changing capacity.

In my brief 10 years as a soldier and officer in the Army, I have struggled with the inner-focused perspectives and entitlement attitudes that are encountered at too great a frequency in corps and among officers. There are many shining stars that the Founder would say of their work: “That and better will do!”—our comrades who understand the importance of a truly holistic engagement with the body, mind and spirit of those we are called to serve.

We have too many corps and officers that are not comfortable with “those people,” who have forgotten (or never knew?) that “those people” are indeed God’s people.

Several months ago, I had two newly created positions at Seattle Social Services with the primary responsibility of community outreach through the food bank, on the streets and in the tent cities. I made area corps officers aware of the openings. I made the divisional youth secretary aware of the openings. Not a single Salvationist applied. Eventually we filled the position with two local community members who are doing a fine job—but they are not (yet) Salvationists.

When we arrived in Seattle Social Services, God was not welcome in a number of the programs that had been relinquished to our highly educated social services professionals. I spoke in Occidental Park last summer, at an open-air event to celebrate the 125th anniversary of the first Holiness Meeting in Pioneer Square. The prepared remarks provided by our development department carefully left out any reference to our spiritual calling, to avoid giving any offense to the government officials present—an “error” that I corrected with a clear proclamation of the gospel and a reminder that we were called by God to our mission.

Bob Docter, in his New Frontier “On the Corner” column entitled “Serve a suffering humanity” (vol. 31, no. 5), wrote: “Who speaks for the poor? Whose voice will be most trusted? It is the voice that speaks with accurate authority and has assembled the facts, understands how they are misused or kept secret, a voice without any gain other than serving a suffering humanity—one of our missions.

“In this nation, the Army needs some kind of data-gathering agency whose responsibility will be to keep us apprised of issues we face in the present and the near future. We need a think tank.”

If the Army moves ahead with such an endeavor, it must not be simply a sterile analysis of statistical information. Like Darkest England, such a modern-day effort must cloak those cold numbers in the rags and tears of poverty, in the pain of untreated PTSD and TBI, in the anguish of a family watching a child whither away from addiction. It needs to be an impolite, politically incorrect advocacy arm that can unflinchingly hold a mirror up to society and help us understand painful truth—and the reason for hope.

Until we as individuals and we as an Army consistently live and breathe our mission, our message will remain unheard.

Thanks, Bob, for continuing to shout from the corner!

Having just recalled and celebrated the Easter season, I am reminded of the Scripture in Acts 2:42, which is the definition of the early Christian church: They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer. This verse of Scripture occurs just after Pentecost when the Holy Spirit came upon the disciples and they were set on a path to win the world for Jesus.

These individuals who walked with Jesus during his ministry had now experienced the truth that Jesus was alive. They knew without a doubt that God had fulfilled his promise of a Messiah who would redeem the world—and them.

One of the phrases in the New International Version of this account of Pentecost is that the disciples were all together in one place. While this implies that they were in the same room, I think about us as his disciples, hoping that the “one place” we are together is in asking for the Spirit to guide, teach, and encourage us in our faith.

In recent days, we had the opportunity to visit the corps in Bishop, Calif. This is a relatively new corps, deep into the canyons of the beautiful state where we live. In a storefront building, this Sunday about 60 people gathered to worship and to share in breakfast together. Actually, the day began with coffee brewing and the smell of bacon filling the few rooms called a corps. We noticed that a few families began to arrive and many single individuals, who we soon learned were members of the homeless population in that small town of 4,000. Someone once told me that the only difference with homeless people and the rest of us is that they do not have an address and we do.

As breakfast was being prepared, Sunday school classes began with studies that would encourage our faith and understanding of God’s love for us. Soon there was a lively discussion of God’s provision and evidence that those in the room were hoping that these truths would pertain to them.

We then began to break bread (in reality) together. Plates were piled high with eggs, bacon, French toast and pastries. Men, women, and children had enough to eat with food enough for “take-out” when the service was over.

We began to sing and praise, and listen to the Word of God. The atmosphere in the room was one of reverence even though the occasional sip of the coffee cup could be heard. As the message was being preached, I noticed a young woman weeping at the table where her empty plate sat. A soldier of the congregation slipped next to her and simply held her hand. It was a sign of beautiful fellowship.

When the invitation was given to pray at the mercy seat, without hesitation, people went to seek the Lord. As I prayed with a young woman, her prayer was simple: she said she had been pushing the Lord away from her and just didn’t want to do that anymore. She asked Jesus to come into her life and her tears were for remorse and release.

We were all together in one place. God was present and moved in the hearts of all of us. We found ourselves living the Scripture in Acts 2:42: we were devoting ourselves to the apostles’ teaching and to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer.