Volume 29, No.26
July 4, 2004
A New Fortress Mentality
Some segments of the church have a fortress mentality. Feeling under siege,
they retreat behind high walls of holy isolation.
To some extent, that keeps out the evils of sin and secularism, and protects
against the winds of change that might force a painful reexamination of
long-held ideas. But such a fortress also becomes a permanent prison, shutting
in those who need spiritual purpose, and shutting out those who need spiritual
protection. It doesn’t have to be that way, as we see from a glimpse into the
armies of ancient Rome.
At the end of a long day’s march into enemy territory, the Roman fighters
stopped at a place chosen by scouts and set up camp. On command, each soldier
fanned out, forming a huge square to mark the boundaries of the camp. Putting
down their packs and picking up their spades, every soldier dug feverishly and
formed a tall dirt wall, just behind the hole left by the missing mud.
Once the earthen barrier was up, each soldier attached the section of wall he
carried with him each day — wooden planks lashed together and designed to fit
with all the other parts. In no time, the portable fortress was done,
surrounded by a shallow but effective moat.
Inside, “streets” were laid out along a precise military grid. The main
avenue — Via Principalis — was the site of headquarters and the supply tents.
On the back streets were the hospital and the “extraordinarii”, valued soldiers
including the generals’ bodyguards.
But before any Roman soldier could put up his own tent, he had to set up
those of the commanders and even the common labourers who were so invaluable,
such as those who operated the catapults or dug under walls during sieges. Even
then, some had guard duty while others foraged for food or brought water to the
fortress.
When it was time to break camp, everything was packed and either carried or
loaded onto mules and horses. Anything left was set afire so the enemy couldn’t
use it against them. After a rallying cry to boost morale, the army marched on,
ready to do it all again at dusk. In the same way, the church must stay on the
move. We can’t stand still and still stand. As soldiers of the Cross, we must
continually examine and reexamine doctrine without fear or pride, to make sure
we understand our marching orders. We must connect that doctrine to everyday
life in a real and relevant way. And we must actively meet the needs of those
around us in a radically loving, courageous way.
To do any of that, we must march into enemy territory, taking our fortress
with us, just as David did. “I love you, Lord; you’re my strength,” he wrote.
“The Lord is my rock, my fortress, and my saviour... in whom I find protection.
He is my shield, the strength of my salvation, and my stronghold.” (Psalm
18:1,2)
If we follow the lead of his Spirit who goes before us, we’ll know where to
take our stand and when to take our rest. We, the army of God, are the visible
sign of his safety and security. Serving side-by-side, we mark the boundaries
insi”de which the Lord offers peace and refuge, in the church, to those who seek
sanctuary from sin. Our Father is the fortress, Christ is the Via Principalis
around which everything else is ordered, and we’re the warriors, safe inside his
presence.
Yes, God is the fortress, but He entrusts to each of us a part of himself
that we’re to share through our insight, experience and giftedness. Everything
is complete only when we put those pieces together, “ loving one another and
working together with one heart and purpose.” (Phil. 2:2). “Be humble, thinking
of others as better than yourself,” says Paul. “Don’t think only about your own
affairs...” In other words, we must put up each other’s tents, honouring and
supporting not just the leadership of the church but all who sustain the work,
will and worship of our Lord.
Inside the stronghold of our relationship with him, we must be vigilant. We
must care for the wounded and make sure everyone has access to rest, nourishment
and Living Water. At the close of each day, we must lleave nothing behind our
enemies can use against us. Most of all, we must keep marching, each of us
carrying our wooden planks lashed together — our cross.
By Rick Gamble, published in Cross Current, the weekly newsletter of the
Followers of Christ congregation in Brantford, Ontario, Canada. Reprint at will
in not-for-profit publications. To subscribe, contact
sgamble@bfree.on.ca