26. We Few, We Happy Few

All ye inhabitants of the world, and dwellers on the earth, see ye, when he lifteth up an ensign on the mountains; and when he bloweth a trumpet, hear ye. Isaiah 18:3

This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,

AN ENSIGN ON THE MOUNTAINS 6 June 2014

From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remember'd;

Seventy years ago today, the Allied liberation of Europe began with D-Day, the largest amphibious landing in history. D-Day has always held an important spot for me not only because you and I conceivably would not be here without it, but also because my dad was there. Not in the initial landing – he arrived six days afterward, but from there he was transferred to the first American Army unit to march under the Arc de Triomphe at the liberation of Paris and from there served in Patton's Third Army at the Battle of the Bulge and after that got transferred stateside to train for a highly likely land invasion of Japan. Then came the atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, which ended the need for that training.

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me

For the rest of his life (and I expect in heaven now) my dad was proud of his military service and would talk about it to anyone who would listen. And it wasn't that hard then to find a fellow veteran to share war stories with or teach a new generation what he and others like him – mostly scared out of their mind kids – had fought and endured. I have and have seen some of the medals and some of the photos, but I'm kicking myself that I did not pay more attention while I was growing up. But I'm learning now, and what I'm learning now I find myself applying in my lifelong walk of faith – that sounds pithy but bear with me – and even though I have not fought on a physical battlefield in a military campaign, I have something to say.

Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition:

There's a Dennis the Menace comic strip that has the title character, a five-year-old boy, coming out of church with his parents and asking the pastor, “If God is my Father, does that make Jesus my Brother?” All of us who commit and accept Jesus Christ as our Savior and Lord – you've read before in Ensign how hesitant I am to use the term “Christian” – become brothers and sisters in a common faith, with common goals (namely to reach the whole world for our Brother who is also our Master, per the Great Commission at the end of Matthew) as much as we ourselves are able while we are part of it. For we are in the world, but not of the world. And to model how we are to treat each other, very often Jesus would point out literal brothers who would engender strong family ties. But it's not a requirement.

And gentlemen in England now a-bed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,

Four of the main twelve disciples we hear of – James and John, Peter and Andrew – were brothers. Lazarus was the brother of Mary and Martha. But to be a blood relative is not a requirement; however, it does take blood to save us. Specifically, it's Jesus' blood – that is, the blood of someone innocent who hasn't sinned against God (and if you remember that's He hasn't done anything out of the will of God) that we accept into ourselves, that covers us along with Jesus' broken body as expressed in the Crucifixion and reaffirmed every Communion. We accept Him into ourselves, no one makes us take Him. I hear murmurs in the reading audience that some have been forced to as kids or even as adults to “fit in”, and let me ask your forgiveness – that's not how the church is supposed to operate.

And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.

(For the record, St. Crispin's day commemorates two late-third century Christian martyrs, and the speech I've excerpted here is from William Shakespeare's play Henry V.) A church that's afraid of questions is afraid of change – not altering the Cornerstone (one of Jesus' titles for Himself), but altering how we need to relate to the world. YES, as the city on a hill, YES, as the light of the world – I find it interesting that Jesus said WE are the light of the world (see Matthew 5:14), not that He is – but if we're overbearing about it, no one will want to know our Brother. (Shine a flashlight in someone's eyes and you'll see what I mean.) Truth be known, neither do I some days. But as I DO want to be a better representative for Him while I'm on Earth, I pray God will make me, as part of His Own Band of Brothers, a better one.

Finally, my brethren, be strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might.

The term “band of brothers” has been applied to those who landed on D-Day since at least the early 1990s, and throughout Scripture we see the term applied to blood relatives as well as relatives we have through our hope in Jesus (1 Timothy 1:1 comes to mind, but keep reading). Sometimes we get along with them better than our real-life relatives, sometimes not – the fact is, we are constantly at war and often we don't realize it because it's a war against beings we can't see. We put on the whole armor of God to fight them – continue reading from Ephesians 6:10 that I quoted above for more about that. And without the Lord, without being willing to accept Him as our Father, and consequently Jesus as our Brother, we can't ever be lastingly, eternally happy.

The thing is, so few will do that. Be one who will.

David

P.S. Thank You, Lord, that we can come to You in prayer and that You provie for all our needs, even when we don't know what they are. We pray for the peace of Jerusalem on both sides of the fence there and around the world.

Thank You, Lord, for everyone in leadership and service, both here and abroad. Thank You for the opportunities we have and the promise of new life! I pray that we all seek and have a blessed week. Amen.