“15 Now I would remind you, brothers, of the gospel I preached to you, which you received, in which you stand, 2 and by which you are being saved, if you hold fast to the word I preached to you—unless you believed in vain. 3 For I delivered to you as of first importance what I also received: that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the Scriptures, 4 that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the Scriptures, 5 and that he appeared to Cephas, then to the twelve. 6 Then he appeared to more than five hundred brothers at one time, most of whom are still alive, though some have fallen asleep. 7 Then he appeared to James, then to all the apostles. 8 Last of all, as to one untimely born, he appeared also to me. 9 For I am the least of the apostles, unworthy to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God. 10 But by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace toward me was not in vain. On the contrary, I worked harder than any of them, though it was not I, but the grace of God that is with me. 11 Whether then it was I or they, so we preach and so you believed.” (1 Cor 15:1-11 ESV)

The impulse to Low, walking on the edge of Futility, the band all gone home and Silence. Each Christian expresses in her or his way some Post-Futility, Post-Subdued, Post-Silent salvage job. We were, after all, there once. We were, after all, forlorn. We were, after all, Aware: sinner I am, and what of these curious ones, the “established church”; is their “Calling” and “Consecration” any more fitting, as a glove to a hand, than mine?

It sure can seem that way. We were Electric, after all, in the gung-ho race to the front line. We were “National Pride” and “Own our Flag”. We were “Duty” and “Heroism”. And what if, what if some cipher or elixir suddenly vacates the premises. And we are there looking the fool, bearing our firearm rather bemusedly, a little nervous as to whether we are not after all most to be pitied. But the only reason to pity us, we ask for no Pity! The only reason is in the case that we’ve forgotten our initial Testimony. Yes, sinners we are, and finally Worthy the Altar to approach. Finally Worthy, the Fellowship gladsomely to engage. Finally Worthy, the devil-may-care Cheer to imbibe.

Or was it all a Dream? Sad confessions, may be rooted in truth, or rooted in a misunderstanding as to terms. We were not, after all, so far gone down the rabbit’s trail, at least by some accounts: what we repent towards, is simply a bit foolhardily mentally associated with Known Quantities of Sin: Yes! I am a sinner saved by grace! Wowsers, I can dig it! But no, I will not make a false confession just because of social pressure.

To the Reverence, then for revered Church Incarnate, Community-Driven, in the “Wild”: we sat in sanctified sanctuary and Meditated, please O Lord, though I… dare I say with Paul that I, the “chief of sinners”… though I reckon myself sinful, please O church do hear: yes, you will say “password accepted, move on Christian soldier”, but will you mean it when, tomorrow over fellowship hour I mouth a frustration or “sinful” gesture? Because I was subdued for a season, and only have this hour Forgotten my own plaintive cry?

Yet this is a comment on War as much as on Personal Prerogative: we are deuced and jostled by a sinful conversation partner called Society. We are mocked and degraded by a “didn’t hear anything!” Denier. We are too Mature, too Fatherly, Motherly, even if reluctantly or not so on paper, and we thereby Inspire youthful rebellion. In a weird vortex called dynamically situated, called parental, called master-servant, called professor-student, and—we dare say with Paul—husband-wife. The affair of the One destined for the Cross, being the loving conversation partner to the one punctiliously, delightedly, purely, Died For.

The Christian is indeed Capable, because last night they cried themselves to sleep, to Engage on all fronts in a “I deserve far worse” mentality. The impulse to “Low”. Walking on the edge of “Futility”. The band all gone home and “Silence”. Because where in our midst is the one who Despairs? Honest Concern permeates the rest of the troops: please hear! We remember the fruitful years as much as those lean years! We will—naturally—take you back, indeed we already have! Oh, as for us, we had incidentally Forgotten! Forgotten the averse sin, the enmity, the jibe in the wind. Come, now, yes if we’re honest: our good cheer is itself a fruit of the Spirit, borne—yes—in our own Contrition and silent hours. So we long to be Kosher and Submitted, Calm and Belonging, to the zany house of horrors repelled, to the sin repulsed, to the gladsome Greeting and loving Exchange. We exchange what we are, which is servants for your sake, destined to cause Many to be forgiven. Our theology, this like a book of the bible penned by the best Deuteronomically-driven attorneys, is writ in a day, seven day creation, indeed. Our theology really revolves around certainty: moles and monitors will slip in the moment we lose sight of the Cross. Did we, indeed, while on that subject, ask someone else, allow someone else, to go to the cross on our behalf? Were we willing ourselves thus to take up the mantle? While arguing over one set of affairs, did we lose sight of Christ’s encouragement and self-sacrifice? So we stay Low, Humble, Quieted. Resurrection is Ours to live into and to claim.