“13 But we ought always to give thanks to God for you, brothers beloved by the Lord, because God chose you as the firstfruits to be saved, through sanctification by the Spirit and belief in the truth. 14 To this he called you through our gospel, so that you may obtain the glory of our Lord Jesus Christ. 15 So then, brothers, stand firm and hold to the traditions that you were taught by us, either by our spoken word or by our letter. 16 Now may our Lord Jesus Christ himself, and God our Father, who loved us and gave us eternal comfort and good hope through grace, 17 comfort your hearts and establish them in every good work and word.” (2 Thess 2:13-17 ESV)
The power of a Christ, brings out the heart-on-the-sleeve sincerity, whether sincerely for or sincerely against. We can be part of this Event, with our writing, with our studies, with our life’s choices. Yet the heart-on-the-sleeve Promise is no sensible or reasoned intuition, feeling, vibe, but rather it is half-crazed and teetering on illogic, bald refusals or ambitions, senseless violence. People go crazy, schizoid, because simple bullish unrelenting Promise is spoken of: Him… I met Him… I knew Him… Her… and it made all the difference.
The soldier sees this violence—against the educated state of mankind, against the better angels that ebb and flow, making community work—and puts their foot down. An end to the loss of life, life so significant, souls so significant, that entire legions of converted souls would have—in the Christ event—been inspired, led, reformed, baptised. One life matters. And end simply to our personal prayer and personal time of weeping, of tears, because a part of us is challenged, under undue stress and cancerous cynicisms, accusations, jealousies. Part of us is no more.
Gospel living however also reminds us we shall see loved ones again. It reminds us amidst the harrowing trials and blessed oases, never do we quite rest. Until our Sabbath comes, never do we quite rest. Words are mellifluous but not traitorous, treasonous, expository except in exposition of what is our deepest feeling, deepest secret, deepest pride and purpose: to Preach the good news, to see lives lifted up by the Spirit, and hearts cheered by this same Spirit.
Friendships never wane, though the years separate them. Fathers and mothers in Christ, we have had many. We are dumbfounded, not quite tearful for the first hour, because of news but that same news is met with friendship regained. Friends back in the picture. So the Christian knows: they will throw you out of synagogues; you will be hated by all for my name’s sake; and, if we add our own, senseless violence will follow your like a hawk. But our own hawkishness is, again, to Love, to Bless, to Encourage, to Lift Up the good man or woman of God.
Therefore to game day, and to some sentiment or willingness to be, in our humble and impoverished state, the negotiators vis-a-vis what small portion is entrusted to us. That it may suddenly be a big portion. That we are on “the front lines” more so than those talking heads even, and more so than our people behind the scenes, the avuncular or the elder, the bishop or the teacher; and as assets poised and positioned, we have Reach. Reach to assess, and realize: be confident O young man, young woman! You have the seeds of peace within yourself. In your own simple conversation. In talking through the mental bind or spell, sleepwalking spell, that erroneously says “Attack!”. Or in the hearty courage that says, “Move!”. Into the framework. Into the peacefully-made place of Encounter and Fellowship. Into the together mindset that runs things per the recorded newsflashes, the ebbs and flow of simple negotiations. The news station and the friendly refusal to admit fatigue. Until our Sabbath. Until Tomorrow’s edge of the world sad fact: annihilation? Rather, civilization shepherded forward. That much, at least, shall not be lost on our watch.