What Does it Mean to be a Disciple?

One of my classes during the fall semester was on discipleship and evangelism. I confess I wasn’t thrilled about the class, since I had previously read a number of the books and both were topics that had frequently been addressed in Sunday school classes and seminars I had attended. But the personal interaction and assignments made it very helpful, and reading Bonhoeffer’s “The Cost of Discipleship” greatly influenced my view of what it means to be a disciple.

If a disciple is “one who accepts and assists in the spreading the doctrines of another,” then discipleship would be the lifestyle of a disciple and teaching others how to be a follower of a certain other. In the case of Christianity, this would mean discipleship is a lifestyle of following the teaching of Jesus, and thus become like Him, even as we teach others to do the same. Being a disciple of Christ isn’t simply reciting a creed; this would not require trust in the leader (Coleman, 51-52). Jesus “did not urge his disciples to commit their lives to a doctrine, but to a person who was the doctrine” (Coleman, 56). Thus, true discipleship requires of the disciple “absolute obedience to the Master’s will, even as it meant complete abandonment of their own” (Coleman, 59). Dietrich Bonhoeffer echoes this idea when he says, “Discipleship betokened the separation of the disciples from all their old ties, and an exclusive adherence to Jesus Christ” (Bonhoeffer, 203). This means that the Christian “belongs to Christ alone, and his relationship with the world is mediated through Him” (Bonhoeffer, 257). That is what it means to be a disciple.

Discipleship, then, would be living out this abandonment to Christ in one’s own life and teaching others to do the same. Despite popular opinion, this is not primarily done through large events and formalized programs. Coleman writes, “One cannot transform the world except as individuals in the world are transformed, and individuals cannot be changed except as they are molded in the hands of the Master” (Coleman, 30). The best model for discipleship is Jesus’ own: “life-schooling” a select few “when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise up,” (Deut. 6:7). This means bringing others to see the Father and thus become more like Him, through prayer, life in the church, and the study and application of scripture to personal life, instilling in them a greater love and worship of God that allows them to turn from all earthly ties and be bound to Christ alone” (Bonhoeffer, 68). Just as following Christ in your own life requires great cost, so making disciples is also costly. This cost is not that we are purchasing our discipleship, but proving the worth of the One we follow by abandoning our own will for His. But the cost is worth it, and near the end of his book Bonhoeffer offers encouragement:

“The goal is to become ‘as Christ.’ Christ’s followers always have his image before their eyes, and in its light all other images are screened from their sight. It penetrates into the depths of their being, fills them, and makes them more and more like their Master. The image of Jesus Christ impresses itself in daily communion on the image of the disciple. No follower of Jesus can contemplate his image in a spirit of cold detachment. That image has the power to transform our lives, and if we surrender ourselves utterly to him, we cannot help bearing his image ourselves. We become the sons of God, we stand side by side with Christ, our unseen Brother, bearing like him the image of God.” (Bonhoeffer, 337)

“Because He really lives his life in us, we too can… it is only because he became like us that we can become like him. It is only because we are identified with him that we can become like him. By being transformed into his image, we are enabled to model our lives on his. Now at least deeds are performed and life is lived in single-minded discipleship in the image of Christ and his words find unquestioning obedience. We pay no attention to our own lives or the new image which we bear, for then we should at once have forfeited it, since it is only to serve as a mirror for the image of Christ on whom our gaze is fixed. The disciple looks solely at his Master. But when a man follows Jesus Christ and bears the image of the incarnate, crucified, and risen Lord, when he has become the image of God, we may at last say that he has been called to be the ‘imitator of God.’ The follower of Jesus is the imitator of God.” (Bonhoeffer, 344)

Bonhoeffer, Dietrich, The Cost of Discipleship, The Macmillan Company, USA, 1969
Coleman, Robert E., The Master Plan of Evangelism, Fleming H. Revell, Grand Rapids, MI. 1993.

Note on Bonhoeffer: he has much good to offer in The Cost of Discipleship, despite being not fully orthodox in his theology. There is a sense of this in Cost of Discipleship but there were only a few times I could actually put my finger on something that was off.


Look to Jesus

I remember being in Sunday school when I was eight or nine years old. The teacher asked what faith was, and I blurted out the answer, “Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. Hebrews 11:1.” We had just memorized it as a family, and I was proud I knew what faith was.
But until recently, I didn’t know what faith meant for the mundane struggles of my life, especially the daily grind as a mom. Does faith have anything to do with getting angry at my kids, eating more cake than I should, or wasting time on Facebook? Does an oft-repeated, little-understood definition intersect with exhausting mom life?

It does: the author of Hebrews moves us beyond a definition. He spends ten chapters proving that we will receive the salvation in Christ God has promised us. These promises, but even more our ability to come before God as His beloved children, are the “things hoped for” in Hebrews 11:1. Sarah, Abel, and the other examples in Hebrews 11 witnessed to the worth of what He promised. Their confidence that they would receive it changed how they lived.

It can change how you live, too. We are told what our lives will look like when we live with our hopes set on His promises in Hebrews 12:1-2:
“Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us also lay aside every encumbrance and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.”
Lay aside encumbrances. Run with endurance. Look to Jesus. These are components of faith. Faith is living with the conviction that Jesus is worth more than all of the encumbrances we cast away and all of the pain we endure.

Moses exemplifies this. Hebrews 11:24-26 describes him giving up his rights as a Prince of Egypt to suffer with the people of God, because he was looking to Jesus. He laid aside the treasures of Egypt that would have hindered him from following God. He endured persecution and difficulty, because he “considered reproach of Christ greater wealth than the treasures of Egypt, for he was looking to the reward.” Moses knew with certainty that what was coming in Christ was worth more than the vast riches and comforts of any earthly kingdom.
Likewise, we can say no to sin and lay aside distractions when we are looking to Jesus. Fix your eyes on Him – the “unseen,” rather than your “seen” circumstances. Seek satisfaction in Him, not your earthly desires.
But who is this Jesus that we are looking to as our reward?

Jesus founds our faith. Without His death on the cross atoning for our sin, we are God’s enemies. You and I deserve His judgment, not His help. We look to Him with hatred, not love and desire. Unless He makes us spiritually alive in His resurrection, we can’t see beyond what’s right in front of us to the great things He has promised.
Jesus perfects our faith. He takes it from a weak initial faith to complete dependence on and satisfaction in Him.
Jesus is our example. Even more than Moses, he laid aside encumbrances, ran with endurance, and looked to future joy. Like a runner pushing through the “hump” with her mind focused on the finish line, Jesus looked not to the pain around Him and His own wants, but to the joy set before Him. He looked ahead to His reunification with the Father. We can look ahead to the day we will see and know Him fully and receive the fullness of what has been promised.

The woman in childbirth can endure the pain when her goal is not comfort, but Jesus. The mother entertaining children on a trans-oceanic flight with long delays can be patient when her hope is in Christ, not the end of the journey. The wife in a difficult marriage can remain faithful when her joy is in her Savior, not her husband.

This is the direction of our faith, the goal of our race. Look to Jesus: the One who delivers God’s word to us, intercedes for and sympathizes with us, is a sufficient sacrifice for our full salvation, and endured suffering and temptation – the Jesus put forward by the rest of the book of Hebrews.
You can lay aside discontentment when you look at what you have in a God who will never forsake you.
You can say no to another piece of cake when you know it’s not going to satisfy you, but that God can. You can also accept it with thanksgiving, setting your hope on what your Heavenly Father thinks of you, not what the mirror reflects.
You can put down your phone when you’re not seeking the approval of men because you’re secure in Christ.
You can stop losing your temper every time your kids squash your desires if you want to please God more than you want your way.

Are there encumbrances and sins you need to lay aside? Are you running with focused endurance, or are you distracted from what really matters? Are you looking to Jesus, or are your eyes on the trials in front of you? Live by faith, with the conviction that what you will receive in the Unseen Jesus is greater than anything you could possess on this earth. He is the Son of God, worshipped by Angels, righteous ruler of a forever kingdom, partaking of flesh and blood to sympathize with our weaknesses, dying to free us from death, judgment, and slavery to sin. He completely satisfied the wrath of God so there is none left for us and gives us full access to God our Father.
How would your life change if instead of chasing after earthly desires, you lay aside encumbrances, live with focused endurance, and look to Jesus?

Discipline: Changing Desires

(a follow-on to my post, Christlike Maturity)
At the beginning of the year I mentioned my word for 2018 was “discipline.” It’s been neat to see how daily life, Bible study, classes, and other reading have converged to teach and grow me in that area. One of the most helpful things was a process for working through desires. This is a combination of a 3-step process from dealing with emotions put forward by Dr. Randy Roberts and the book Gospel Treason by Brad Bigney. I’ve listed more resources that contributed to this thinking at the end.

1. ADMIT your desires: This may take digging. As the tag line for “You Are What You Love” says, “you may not love what you think.” Our idols hide. Strong cravings, anger, irritability, and conflict are all signs that we love something. There are times when these emotions stem from godly desires. But most often, we experience them because we are desiring an idol more than God. So when you desire a second helping, find yourself on a Facebook binge, lose your temper when your child does something sinful (or even childish), or are irritated at your husband putting his dirty dishes in the wrong side of the sink, ask yourself: what does this reveal about what I truly love right now?

2. ASSESS your desires: Once you’ve identified what you are desiring, determine whether or not it’s a legitimate desire with legitimate intensity. Wanting your children to obey you is not wrong. In fact, it’s a biblical desire. But if you want them to obey you for your own ease and not because it’s what God wants for them, then it’s no longer a legitimate desire. Wanting to eat is also a good thing. But if all you can think about is eating what you want when you want it, it doesn’t have legitimate intensity. What does the Bible say about your desires? What should you be desiring, and why?*

3. ALTER your desires: In the moment of temptation, this usually looks like choosing to obey God even when we don’t feel like it. I may still really want a second (or third) piece of cake, but I’m going to choose not to because it wouldn’t be caring for the body He’s given me to steward. So I say no and remind myself of truth about God and how His love satisfies more than gorging myself on dessert. If you’ve already acted on an inordinate desire, then repentance is key here as well.
Altering desires is proactive as well. In order to desire God more, we must know Him more. This happens through worship and immersion in His Word, so that we desire Him more than our sin in the first place, and so that our emotions reflect His, not our own sin nature.
External stimuli and internal desires should lead us to acknowledge, assess, and if needed, alter our desires. This repeated process accumulates into habits, which in turn becomes our character. If our responses aren’t shaped by His Word, then we will continue to fall to sin. But if we reorient our desires to align with His, then our wants and trials will make us more and more like Christ.

*I often will try to fight checking social media by saying “I shouldn’t,” but not giving a specific reason. But I need to know why I shouldn’t in order for there to be any real growth in self-control. I also need to make sure that my “shouldn’t” reaches my heart, rather than being an external rule that is of no value against the flesh (Colossians 2:21-24). Is my heart set on Christ?

Gospel Treason (Bigney)
A Chance to Die (Elliot)
You are What you Love (Smith)
True Feelings (Mahaney/Whitaker)
Love to Eat, Hate to Eat (Fitzpatrick)

Words for 2017

As I look back on the last twelve months, three words seem to summarize the year for me – how I grew, what I learned, what characterized the year, how I will remember 2017. Much of the year I felt overwhelmed (in a good way) by things I was learning and ways I was growing, but most of that really does boil down to these three things.

2016 ended with us in transit and fighting PPD. I knew there was a lot that needed to change – so much that I didn’t want to put any sort of time frame on it, so I never said “2017 will be a year of healing” because I knew that it could be much longer than a year before I felt whole again.
But God not only healed the PPD but also so much more as He worked in me as a wife and mother, and brought to light sin that needed to be worked through and emotions from the last four years that I had swept aside instead of processing – mostly to do with all of our moves and the sadness of saying goodbye to so many people and communities in such a short time.
A lot of this healing came through prayer, the Psalms, and replacing lies with the Truth.

This started as rest connected with healing – clearing the schedule to simplify life and leave breathing room for lack of stress and to spend more time together now that Ezra’s schedule gives him more time off.  I had to learn first that having nothing to do is OK – I often found myself puttering around trying to find things to do instead of picking up a book or playing with the girls because having more to do than I was able had become so habitual after E was born.
At the same time, I’m now a lot better about sensing that there is too much on my to-do list and being willing to drop things or let them take longer – loving my children is more important than being on time or getting everything done, and better a late dinner in love than on time with biting words. I realized a lot of ideals from myself or society that I was focusing on instead of what my job as wife and mommy are according to God.

But it was also realizing that rest isn’t the same as an empty schedule, but is relinquishing control and letting God be God – resting from worrying about things, over-planning, micro-managing, etc.  – and so there can be rest even when the calendar is full.
This came up again and again in books I was reading – mostly Humble Roots and None Like Him, but also Teaching From Rest and Parenting (Tripp) – resting not in the successes or abilities of me or my children but in the One who sent me, admitting how often I try to be God despite not being omnipotent, omnipresent, omniscient, etc, not worrying about how things will work out in the future but trusting God and being faithful now.

“Looking to Jesus” has been on my mind since before E was born, but it came up again and again as I was memorizing Hebrews 12, doing the Behold  Your God study, and reading various books and kept connecting what I was struggling with to a solution of looking to God for satisfaction.
But before that could happen God had to work in my heart to bring me to trust Him again after a season of depression where it often seemed like He was turning away from my cries. Joni’s story helped much with that – faith not in my ability to accept PPD but to embrace Christ because of my problems – and a quote from Tripp’s Parenting book: “Biblical faith never asks you to deny reality, it calls you to look at your realities through the lens of the awesome glory and grace of your Redeemer.”

Then I was able to begin to learn what it talks about in 12 Ways Your Phone is Changing You:
“As faithful eyes perceive the unseen glories of God and reborn hearts embrace them, all the visible glories of God in the world seem to thicken in substance. The more eagerly we embrace God, the more gratitude we express for His created gifts for us and the more clearly we begin to discern the sinful distortions and the hollow promises of free sin.”
– Tony Reinke (page 140)

Faith, looking not at the seen of social media’s pull, daily trials, fears of future PPD, but instead looking to Jesus, my Savior.

I suppose in the end all 3 things come down to letting God be God and not trying to do His job myself, but rejoice and rest in His care and power.

Saying those words characterized 2017 doesn’t mean that I have those things down, far from it! I expect 2018 will be a continuation of those three things and growth in many other areas as well.

On a more practical note, 2017 introduced me to crafting with felt, transformed my bread-baking (Thanks Laurel’s Kitchen and Peter Reinhart), and included 11 Ferling etudes and doing music for church twice a month.

Lessons on PPD from a Paraplegic

In July, I read various articles by and about Joni Earekson Tada on the 50th anniversary of her diving accident. I remember watching her movie as a kid and had read other things by and about her, but to hear her pretty much say that she wouldn’t change what she’d gone through was mind-blowing to me as I was coming out of PPD. How in the world could I ever say that about PPD?

In October, I listened to her talk about how more than healing from paralysis she needs healing from sin. That really resonated with me, as I could see that PPD had dredged up so much awful stuff from my heart that went way beyond the immediate depression, and God was working on all of that in addition to PPD.

I kept glancing at The God I Love, a book by Joni that had been a Christmas present years earlier that I had read and shelved as something that was interesting but not really something I had deeply connected with. When Joni was announced as WORLD Magazine’s Daniel of the Year, I finally reached for it, and it was another piece in the PPD puzzle.

I read it the week before Thanksgiving, and the same questions kept rolling around in my mind. How could I ever be thankful for PPD like Joni was for her accident? Would being thankful for it be admitting PPD – something so dark and God-forsaken – was something good? Could I ever come to a place where I would choose to go through it again for what God worked through it?

The third question is one that only time will answer. It may be “over” but I shudder at the thought of what was going on a year ago, while knowing that those exact same circumstances will never repeat.

A quote from both the book and WORLD’s article more or less answer the first two questions:
“God permits what He hates to accomplish what He loves.”
Postpartum depression is not something I ever have to call good. It’s not something I ever have to think of as something God loves. The book also talks about our suffering – wheelchairs or PPD – not being things that we embrace or accept, but as being jackhammers obliterating our sin and sheepdogs snapping at our heels, pushing us to God – who we DO embrace.

We may be called to be joyful in trials because of what they produce in us, to accept His sovereignty in bringing us difficulty instead of running from suffering… but that doesn’t mean we ever have to call things like PPD and paraplegia good.
The fact that God can use them for good isn’t about there being inherent good in the suffering, but about a God that is so incredibly good that He can turn even the darkest evil – which isn’t PPD or paraplegia, but the death of His Son – into the greatest good. And if He can do that with the cross, how much more with the daily suffering we face on earth?

Modern-Day Heroes

It’s hard to move 19 months after you moved to a place. It’s even harder when that place is where you made your first home as a married couple, walked through your first pregnancy, and began the journey of parenthood – all supported and surrounded by loving people, who loved you when they barely knew you and didn’t relent in their loving when you were getting ready to leave.
It’s also hard to leave the first friends your baby had – the one that looks like her polar opposite with the ‘fro and chocolate skin, the one who handed down head bands and tries to play with her during church, the one people asked if they were twins – the blue-eyed fair-skinned blonde fall-babies of GBC.
As I think about leaving behind yet another place and another set of friends, I’m reminded yet again of what Eleven said in Doctor Who:
“We all change. When you think about it, we’re all different people all through our lives, and that’s okay, that’s good, you gotta keep moving, so long as you remember all the people that you used to be. I will not forget one line of this. Not one day. I swear. I will always remember when the Doctor was me.”
We may be leaving our home here, but we won’t ever forget the people we love here and everywhere. It’s hard to leave, but it’s easier when you remember that leaving doesn’t mean forgetting and starting life in a new place and enjoying it doesn’t negate how wonderful where you were before was.

As I look back on the last year and a half and the people we have had the privilege of knowing here, especially at church, I have thought a lot about the people who have taught me so much by their lives, from when I was a child through to today.
I keep thinking of a stanza from the Getty’s “O Church Arise” –
“As saints of old still line the way,
Retelling triumphs of His grace,
We hear their calls and hunger for the day
When, with Christ, we stand in glory.”

Some of those people I’m not in contact with much any more and we’ve grown apart. Others I have sporadic contact with but it’s the kind of friendship that we can just pick up where we left off. Most of the ones I write about below I don’t know that well but the way they live inspires me.
In “A Sacred Sorrow” Michael Card wrote,
“The deep things of the faith we learn less by didactic principle and more through people of faith and their simple stories. After all, the gospel is not a systematic/theological presentation to which we give assent or not in order to become “believers.” No, it is a story, which we enter into even as it enters into us. We, iint eh most real and literal sense, become characters in this ongoing incarnating of truth and of the gospel. Its story continues to be told in and through us, and along the way we begin to understand.
“I believe the same kind of incarnational process is at work in understanding lament. Eventually, when we are struggling to explain a difficult topic like prayer, faith, or perhaps servanthood, we resort to naming a person who incarnates that ideal. … When we seek to understand discipleship, we think of someone like Deitrich Bonhoeffer, not because of his book on the subject, but because his life and death validated everything he spoke about in his writings.”

I’ve found that the people I want to learn from most don’t have lessons they can teach you very well. The things I respect and love and want to emulate in them aren’t usually things they can tell you. They’re often lessons learned through trial. These people are often ships battered by many storms, yet coming out triumphant through the guidance of Christ.
There’s the woman at church who lost her husband to cancer soon after they remarried after they had divorced, and said “grieve, but don’t be downcast.” (Among so much other wisdom I can’t remember).
And another who shared wisdom on marriage (that also applies to parenting) – “He’s not irritating, I’m irritable.”
And the mother who commented that she had nothing to share about parenting, then said – “Jesus, help me! That’s my advice.”
And the one who stayed with her unbelieving husband, holding on through difficult times, and then God changed his heart.
And Amanda, who died of cancer a year ago, whose hope of heaven and joy in Christ was so beautiful to see as she shared her struggles with the church.
My cousin, Kristen, hanging on to life and finding joy in it through Christ despite long-term health issues.
My mother-in-love, who had to take care of new mothers just hours after giving birth to her fourth, braved homes with rats and lands with many poisonous snakes, and is such a wonderful example of godly marriage and parenting (as are my own mother and Mrs. C!).
Mrs. Y, who opened her home to me and gave of her time to let me come in and learn from her, the way they disciplined their kids with gospel, her joy in motherhood, openness in sharing things with me and letting me open up, choosing marriage and motherhood above a career.
The M’s – Mr. M who takes such care of his wife and has taught their sons to do the same, and in it all their use of their home for hospitality and evangelism. Mrs. M who digs down to the root of the issue and turns it so you can see it in the perspective of Christ, who so openly and clearly loves her husband, who has such a great strength from being steeled -yet also softened – in fire of trials where she had to let go and let the Lord work, and trust Him.

There’s M, who my dad discipled and endured persecution by co-workers for his new-found faith.
And my friends who lived in an Arab country filled with turmoil, staying for years after most others left even though it meant being “stuck” there and knowing every day could be their last. They were faithful during the trials, hard though days are with little water, gas, or electricity. These things they gave up and suffered for the gospel – because Christ and the souls of the lost Brothers are worth those hardships.
And two others who the world calls our enemies but who counted the cost yet had great joy in Him as their satisfaction and certainty in their faith in their Lord, a willingness to give their lives if necessary.
And another whose testimony I heard before I met him, how God saved him from a wild lifestyle. I met him and was immediately amazed at his humility, boldness, and intentionality. His favorite question to ask people is “What are you reading right now?” and he uses that to channel conversations to eternal things. He’s ready to be a martyr. He’s ‘planning’ on putting his life on the line in a place where Christianity is unknown – because he loves Christ and His glory so much more than life.

I think it’s people like this Hebrews has in mind when it says the world was not worthy of them.
What a privilege it has been to know each and every one of these, and many more, and some even greater that I just don’t have the words for because they’ve taught me so much (like our pastor’s wife, and my parents, and the C’s).
I’m excited to see who we meet in all of the places we live in the future and how God uses them in our lives.

“I saw what I saw and I can’t forget it
I heard what I heard and I can’t go back
I know what I know and I can’t deny it

Something on the road
Cut me to the soul

Your pain has changed me
Your dream inspires
Your face, a memory
Your hope, a fire

Your courage asks me
What I’m afraid of
And what I know of love
And what I know of God.”
– I Saw What I Saw – Sara Groves

Current Events, the Church, and our Children

Sometimes I wonder what we’re doing having kids in today’s world. ISIS, Boko Haram, other terrorists. Our country spiraling down. Natural disasters. Violence in malls and movie theaters.
I want to protect any children we have from being affected by any of that, and I want to protect their hearts from being drawn to it, as I know is possible with the depravity of all human hearts. It’s terrifying whenever I think about it.

But in the midst of all the brokenness, it has been amazing to see the opportunities the church has to help and to see the church begin to step up to help.
Our church has been taking part in weekly protests at Planned Parenthood – and some have had opportunities to talk to those seeking PP’s services, and members also engage in weekly evangelism at a large, nearby park. We recently took food to a hurting neighbor next door, and Ezra has been able to talk and pray with him some. WORLD Magazine reports on a lot of the devastation in the world, but they also highlight many ministries that are helping people all over the world.
Caring for the poor, broken, and needy is not the job of the government, but of the church. Not in the sense of church programs, but in the body of Christ stepping up to the plate and working in the world around us.

As I paired these stories – though they’re not stories, they’re real life – with my struggle as we think about bringing more little sinners into this world, I was reminded of a phrase I heard John Piper say in a clip on birth control a few years ago.

“…Because the kids I’m going to raise are going to lift a million burdens.”

You Christian, you’ve got to believe that bringing kids into the world and being brought up in the Lord makes them burden lifters, not burden adders. They are in the world to lift the world, to save the world, to love the world.

You’re not just adding dead weight to the world when you bring a child up in the kingdom. You’re bringing up lovers of people and servants of the world.”

While what our children become is ultimately in God’s hands and not ours, it is my prayer and desire that our children – however many we have – will be children of change. That they will be men and women that will join with the body of Christ in showing His compassion to the sheep without a shepherd and rescuing those headed for destruction. That they alongside us will bring others to Christ and lift their burdens.
The world around us may keep spiraling down, but rather than cause for throwing up our hands in despair, it is opportunity for us to get in the trenches and come alongside both the hurting and the wicked with the hope we have in Christ.

O church, arise and put your armor on;
Hear the call of Christ our captain;
For now the weak can say that they are strong
In the strength that God has given.
With shield of faith and belt of truth
We’ll stand against the devil’s lies;
An army bold whose battle cry is “Love!”
Reaching out to those in darkness.

Our call to war, to love the captive soul,
But to rage against the captor;
And with the sword that makes the wounded whole
We will fight with faith and valor.
When faced with trials on ev’ry side,
We know the outcome is secure,
And Christ will have the prize for which He died—
An inheritance of nations.

Come, see the cross where love and mercy meet,
As the Son of God is stricken;
Then see His foes lie crushed beneath His feet,
For the Conqueror has risen!
And as the stone is rolled away,
And Christ emerges from the grave,
This vict’ry march continues till the day
Ev’ry eye and heart shall see Him.

So Spirit, come, put strength in ev’ry stride,
Give grace for ev’ry hurdle,
That we may run with faith to win the prize
Of a servant good and faithful.
As saints of old still line the way,
Retelling triumphs of His grace,
We hear their calls and hunger for the day
When, with Christ, we stand in glory.
– O Church Arise, Getty