Worship & Wonder 8: Sacrifice

Soldiers of Christ, arise,

and put your armour on,

strong in the strength which God supplies,

through his eternal Son;

Strong in the Lord of Hosts,

and in his mighty power:

who in the strength of Jesus trusts

is more than conqueror.

Stand then in his great might,

with all his strength endued;

and take, to arm you for the fight,

the panoply of God.

To keep your armour bright

attend with constant care,

still walking in your Captain's sight,

and watching unto prayer.

From strength to strength go on,

wrestle and fight and pray;

tread all the powers of darkness down,

and win the well-fought day;

That, having all things done,

and all your conflicts past,

ye may o'ercome, through Christ alone,

and stand entire at last.

‘Soldiers of Christ, arise’

Charles Wesley

I have to confess this is my father’s choice of a Wesley text, designed to provoke discussion on the theme of worship as a living sacrifice, and it is a text I struggle with and would not normally have chosen to bring into this space.  I understand the context.  Charles Wesley wrote this hymn as a rousing revival song and that his lyrics were designed to give what his brother John called a "distinct and full account of scriptural Christianity” in the most accessible terms to a potentially illiterate audience.  But I can’t get past my feeling that historically the Church has been far too quick to reach for the military option - even metaphorically - and it is language we should be wary of using in a trigger-happy world.  Or perhaps, it is language I am aware I should be chary of using. 

Perhaps I, in my lust for power which has led me to be a poor teacher and an unfair leader, in my pursuit of control that has led me to be a fractious patient and disgruntled friend, perhaps I should be the last person to stand up and shout I know how to ‘tread the … darkness down’.

Perhaps my defensiveness at this hymn arises from the fact I am weary of battling.  Depression makes me feel in the most intimate way that my whole life is one long attempt to ‘wrestle and fight and pray’.  Some people might say my depression arises precisely from the fact that I have not yet learnt how to surrender, that fear or anger leads me to resist God’s Spirit at work in me, that I am still bound up in my paradoxical struggle for peace.  

Perhaps it’s that I don’t recognise what the ‘panoply of God’ looks like; it only brings to my mind the gold suit of armour in medieval paintings of Sant Jordi.  The effort required to keep polishing my armour seems like far too great an ask, and anyway, it reminds me of being some kind of eager girl guide (which I didn’t enjoy very much when I was twelve, so why should I enjoy it now?).

Perhaps it all boils down to the fact that I don’t understand how I am supposed to ‘stand then in his great might’.  I don’t feel I even have the courage to be ‘strong in the strength which God supplies’, even as I crave for that exact thing.  I long to 'stand entire at last’, to be healed, but today such healing seems a very long way off indeed.

And yet I know sacrifice is about offering: offering what is most dear and most costly in an act of recognition that the Holy One is in control. It is the Holy One who is all powerful.

To me this is the opposite of fighting with military might.  It is about recognising and embracing my powerlessness.  And it is about doing this over and over again as an active choice, not as a passive act, but allowing the Spirit to guide me in what 'battles' are mine to enter into.

I woke this morning with a question crystal clear in my mind:  Am I willing to lay down, give over, offer up, all that I am so that I might be who God made me to be?

So can I say to my weary, cowering soul: ‘come darling, be ‘endued’ with all the might of the Lord of Hosts.  Hear this promise: you can be transfused with the power of the angels’? 

Let me say to my soul: ‘Come, let us together ‘attend with constant care’, listening not for the alarums of war, and the sound of my own so-called righteous posturing, but for the still, silent heart of God whispering to me’.  

‘Come, let us remember that when I gave up in the face of the ‘too muchness’ of yesterday, Grace provided the path through the weakness’.

‘So come, walk one more step and let us watch for what Grace would do in us today’.

My prayer: Let me ‘attend with constant care’ to God in every detail of this day, so I may be ‘o’ercome’ until I come to the point of worship indeed.

bright attending. f2.8. 1/2000. ISO 500.