"Rag-Tag Army" --- Luke 4-9:6

When Jesus selects the twelve disciples, also called apostles according to Luke 6:13, he spends the night prior in prayer. It must have been a difficult thing for him. He knows from the beginning that one will betray him. He knows from the beginning that one will vehemently deny him. He knows from the beginning that they will sleep when he needs them awake; they will lash out when he needs them to be quiet; they will question when he needs them to trust; they will wonder when he needs them to be strong. Yet he chooses them anyway. Isn’t that just like him?

In Martin Bell’s The Way of the Wolf, he has a story called “Rag-Tag Army”. It goes something like this:

I THINK God must be very old and very tired. Maybe he used to look splendid and fine in his general’s uniform, but no more. He’s been on the march a long time, you know. And look at his rag-tag little army! Listen! The drum beat isn’t even regular. Everyone is out of step. And there! You see? God keeps stopping along the way to pick up one of his tinier soldiers who decided to wander off and play with a frog, or run in a field, or whose foot got tangled in the underbrush. He’ll never get anywhere that way. And yet, the march goes on.

He goes on to describe a group of “soldiers” who take off their shoes for the march and of course, God will have to stop again and wait for them. Then, there is a group who is holding hands while they march. The ones on the end, are not holding onto anything – “one hand is reaching, empty”. So, they hold hands with each other and “everybody marches around in circles. And so God must stop again”.

If God were more sensible, he’d take his little army and shape them up. Why, whoever heard of a soldier stopping to romp in a field? It’s ridiculous. But even more absurd is a general who will stop the march of eternity to go and bring him back. But that’s God for you. His is no endless, empty marching. He is going somewhere. His steps are deliberate and purposive. He may be old, and he may be tired. But he knows where he’s going. And he means to take every last one of his tiny soldiers with him…And most of us are afraid and lonely and would like to hold hands or cry or run away. And we don’t even know where we are going, and we can’t seem to trust God – especially when it’s dark out and we can’t see him! And he won’t go on without us. And that’s why it’s taking so long.

Listen! The drum beat isn’t even regular. Everyone is out of step. And there! You see? God keeps stopping along the way to pick up one of his tinier soldiers who decided to wander off and play with a frog, or run in a field, or whose foot got tangled in the underbrush. He’ll never get anywhere that way!

And yet, the march goes on….

I know God is not “old” and He is not “tired” – but He sure has the right to be! And I’m certain He has times when He must wonder what it is that so distracts us from keeping in step with Him. Was it a frog, or a romp in the field, or did you, like me, get your foot tangled in the underbrush and need some help getting it out?

There is nothing easy about discipleship. Jesus does everything he can to equip his disciples to be prepared for their upcoming journey. On more than one occasion, he looks them straight in the eye and gives them the instructions they need in order to survive. In Luke 9, he gives them their marching orders. But still they keep bumping their heads against the wall of “oh-I-can-do-this-myself” or veering off course following road signs that read, “Narrow Road Ahead – Come Over This Way”. You would think they…

You would think we….

You would think I would learn after a while? Let’s see if I can get this right.

If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will save it. (Luke 9:23-24)

Deny – daily….save – lose….lose – save.

That’s how you develop discipleship. That’s how you measure a life. And the march goes on…

Father Spirit, dying to self is a difficult thing. I have a tendency to hold on tight to who I am. I think somehow my meaning and purpose comes from that. In reality, nothing could be further from the truth. My purpose and meaning comes when I shoulder the cross and put one foot in front of the other on a street called straight. Through the power of your Holy Spirit, let me walk that street with confidence today. In Jesus Name.