“17 But since we were torn away from you, brothers, for a short time, in person not in heart, we endeavored the more eagerly and with great desire to see you face to face, 18 because we wanted to come to you—I, Paul, again and again—but Satan hindered us. 19 For what is our hope or joy or crown of boasting before our Lord Jesus at his coming? Is it not you? 20 For you are our glory and joy. 3 Therefore when we could bear it no longer, we were willing to be left behind at Athens alone, 2 and we sent Timothy, our brother and God’s coworker in the gospel of Christ, to establish and exhort you in your faith, 3 that no one be moved by these afflictions. For you yourselves know that we are destined for this. 4 For when we were with you, we kept telling you beforehand that we were to suffer affliction, just as it has come to pass, and just as you know. 5 For this reason, when I could bear it no longer, I sent to learn about your faith, for fear that somehow the tempter had tempted you and our labor would be in vain.” (1 Thess 2:17-3:5 ESV)

Addicted to the strife, coexisting with the nerves, angst, pressure: the soldier’s harrowing experience alternates between what’s alert and what’s unseemingly calmed. The calm… it maddens, it harbors temptation, it mocks. But the true grit immediately reckons with a declaration made, one of War, against Satan the lifeless ghoul, the pathetic rogue. We fight against this Demon, because he or she mocks quieter times, mocks Servant-Mindedness with the numb boredom, mocks good order with the panting longing for something More.

We long, and are surprised by the day of small things. Small things, they wrestle out, meditate forward, mesmerize and play to us like a child’s mobile. We harp on the day of small things, because already Prophetic insight claims a stake, plants a flag, comes down decidedly Militarily-Minded, amidst the wide-eyed fascination with things nominally celebratory around a Peace.

That Peace… it is a hallowed Remove that we… that, as for us and our generation… we cannot brook quite yet, at least, speaking for ourselves. We are Trained and Mobile about waging the Good Fight. We discern Satan, and know him or her as an old bedfellow, one we detest and rightly shun, exorcise, toss out of the playground, remove from the sanctuary.

Christian soul on the line, beckons us to answer the Call here and Now, Today, while it is still light. Strangely sooth, capable of meeting the interlocutor in nominal Calm, nonetheless the Soldier is jumpy and Alert. So that peaceful dialog… it is Strange and Wonderful. The soldier stutters and lets slip nothing: no secrets are divulged, no secret Rank or Objective is explained, only this: that what we are is plain for all to see. Are all apostles? Are all healers? All delight to converse around the heart of the matter, which heart… for us spelt War… which heart will whisper post-conversation, into the ear of our recruit. But is it us recruiting them, or vice-versa? Time shall tell.

The Christian’s Today declaration of War minds itself to be aggressive precisely because of having passed the contest of loving Peace. Precisely because of having passed the contest of simple affection for the brotherhood and sisterhood. Precisely because of having passed the contest of no alarmist behavior, but come forsooth patience in the very face of so much Noise. Like the club-kid mellowing out as the techno beats bombard, like the jazz culturalist sipping a beverage in the quiet corner of the piano club, like the hard rock fan jumping and headbanging at the packed stadium; something Peace and Feng Shui is uniquely ours to own.

Because never for a moment did we concede to those who got exasperated with us. Never did we concede that “just give me someone I can fuss to about you, someone I can explain my exasperation to”. The notion that if only we could point to some “higher authority” that the radical nature of our claims would be assuaged and made tenable, is a point of doctrine: what we are is plain for all to see. Show us the Father… the Father and I are one. My deeds, they come from the Father. He… if you two spoke… He would drive you even more mad, being the Author and Final Judge or Arbiter, please do see that our Jesus is a gentler and more patient variant on this Heavenly theme.

So to the solemn personal duty: each of us… would it reassure if I—like Paul the Apostle does—would preach some “Law” today? That I would mutter and fuss and gripe about presenting Sins? The sins of lust, of six more just as deadly? The sins of sloth, of avarice, of greed? Yet are you not startled when we as a team feel entitled to Move On? No, it isn’t that we don’t take our solemn charges seriously, it is that we take them so seriously as to be Alert and Determined immediately to accept Christ’s mercy seat. But truly, the mental denials and head games are a mania or false repose so tempting. Let us speak as those monitored by some Spirit, twenty-four seven. And said Spirit… loves on us, shapes us, hears us in our silence of prayer. We are entrusted to be One Coherent Whole rather than a sloppy middling response to some earthly Patron or Tutor. Our Patron is Him who taught and Tutored us in the arts and in the Operation. Our Operation holds firm to the doctrine of a Strange Presence we exhibit. Things like homelessness and persecution… these are assumed and accepted much more radically than any cozy citizen might think. More, the culture of sinfulness is so radically expunged, that we become free of sin. In the light of Christ’s persistent Mercy. In the light of radical “other” thinking. In the beauty queen called Grace, the power of One Person, the role of a Friend we lean on in the hour of trial. Christianity, soldiering life, has so much that is Awe-inspiring and Beautiful, if only we could thus Celebrate minus the hate and persecutions.