Lent and war

For most of the Christian community, the season of Lent has begun. This season, which follows the Church seasons of Advent (preparing for the coming of Christ), Christmas (the birth of Christ), and Epiphany (a season of the “revealing” of Christ, which includes the story of the Wise Men), is almost like a liturgical “stop sign” in the middle of the Christian calendar.

Following the joyous celebration of the previous seasons, yet taking place before the highest holy day in the Church, Easter Sunday, Lent is a sobering reminder that we are sinners, that we shall die, and that we shall be held accountable for our words and deeds or lack thereof. Lent is a reminder that not all about living the life in Christ is easy, or sweet, or simple.

Nearly every male child envisions himself being a soldier, looking sharp in a stunning uniform complete with ribbons, patches, and badges, and going off to save the world and do heroic deeds.

For those children who do grow up to be soldiers and go off to war, there is the sobering discovery that war is difficult, bloody, chaotic, disorganized, and full of the possibility of dismemberment, dishonor, and death. Many are those who find themselves in the midst of a battle who wish they had never enlisted.

There is a similar situation in that army called “the Church.” Some are enlisted under false pretenses with evangelists and ministers emphasizing the glories, possibilities, and privileges of the Christian life but never warning of the responsibilities, the difficulties, and even the battles.

A man recently said to me, “It seems that we are under attack.” Of course we are. There is a spiritual battle: “The thief comes only to steal, and kill, and destroy” (John 10:10a NASB).

There is also a battle against self, the “old man.” Paul observed that the “members of the body,” that is, his own fleshly body, were “waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin” (Romans 7:23 NASB).

Then there is the war in the world against Christians and the Church. Jesus warned that there would be people who would actually “hate” true Christians (see Luke 6:22, 27; 1 John 3:13). There have been more Christians murdered in the last 100 years than in all the previous centuries combined. Hatred? Indeed.

During the winter of 1777-78, the Continental Army, under General George Washington, suffered greatly. Between 10,000 and 12,000 soldiers marched into Valley Forge to begin their winter encampment.

Enduring shortages of shelter, food, medicine, clothing, and other supplies, the Army camped for six months in the brutal winter weather that, along with disease, would claim 2,000 lives. Another 4,000 would be so sick as to be declared unfit for duty.

But, amazingly, 2,000 soldiers deserted. In fact, historical records indicate that desertions were a daily occurrence. Nevertheless, at Valley Forge, we read of words like “sacrifice” and conjure up images of bloody footprints, but the concept of suffering for freedom isn’t easily understood.

What kept these men going? What happened at Valley Forge?

Those men who remained, who suffered and survived, who went on to engage the British and win freedom and independence for the colonies, endured and fought for more than themselves. They fought not for honor or for glory or for fame. They fought for children and grandchildren and the possibility of a brighter existence. They fought for the generations to come.

In Psalm 102:28, the writer pens these words of hope and promise: “The children of Thy servants will continue, and their descendants will be established before Thee.” The hope of the Psalmist was not centered in himself alone but in the possibility that future generations would also come to know God.

In other words, like those at Valley Forge, the difficulties and sufferings encountered in the present day may have a wonderful and positive impact on the lives and destinies of those who will follow.

When we began our church in September 1996 with a handful of people, we knew it would be difficult but we also knew that we needed to keep “the long view” in mind. We needed to keep in mind our children and grandchildren and those who would follow.

So, with just a few people, we bought more land than we presently needed. Those of us who receive income are paid far less than we might be elsewhere so that we can invest in people and in the future. Ninety per cent of the clergy in our denomination are unpaid and work a secular job, keeping in mind the “descendants.”

Ten years later, at Christ the King, we are still in a “pioneer” situation. It’s not Valley Forge, but, yes, there are the “attacks,” and there is a certain amount of sacrifice involved. Some people aren’t cut out for pioneer work, or soldiering, or taking the “long view.”

Lent reminds us of the battles, of the sacrifices necessary, of the facts that there are few shortcuts. Lent reminds us that we are not self-sufficient, that we have problems we must deal with, and that we must have the courage and determination to prevail in our call and mission in spite of adverse circumstances and changing feelings.

Lent is not joyless but it is sobering. Warfare, whether temporal or spiritual, is serious business and, in either case, the future of our offspring hangs in the balance.