Miller Family News!

Dear Friends,

 

Abby: We are writing to share news about our family. As of June 20, 2021, Andy and I will be concluding our 14 years as officers in The Salvation Army. After that date, we will be moving to Jackson, MS, where Andy will serve as the Vice President of Academic Affairs and Professor of Theology at Wesley Biblical Seminary. While this appears to be a sudden unexpected career change, Andy and I can see how God has graciously been laying a foundation for this possibility for some time. As you can imagine, such a decision came only after prayer, fasting, and seeking advice from mentors. As Andy starts a new career path, I plan to take advantage of having some flexibility with my time to help our family get established in a new home and community. 

 

Andy: As we look ahead to our new home in Jackson, we intend to soldier (attend church) at the Jackson Corps. We plan to stay engaged in the Army’s local mission. My writing and research will, I believe, continue to serve the Army. I have been working on a second doctorate, a Ph.D. in historical theology, at Manchester University (U.K.) for the past year. My dissertation focuses on William Booth’s doctrine of the church. This degree is not funded by the Army. 

 

Andy and Abby: The Army has generously provided for our lives these 14 years, so you can imagine, this decision is a leap of faith for us. We recognize that this is a big change for our children, Andy, Titus, and Georgia, as they have grown up serving alongside us. We are grateful for the countless moments God provided to use us and bless us as a family, through Salvation Army officership. 

 

We will be sad to leave Tampa, just as it was hard to leave Madisonville, KY, Arlington, TX and Gwinnett County, GA. After we made the decision to leave, we met with Colonels Ken and Dawn Luyk. While disappointed, they were supportive of us. We learned that the Army had planned, this June, to move us on from Tampa after five years in this appointment. We will miss members of our board, staff, church members, and friends from Cambridge Christian School. 

 

While we don’t yet know who the new Area Commanders/Corps Officers for Tampa will be, we are certain, by God’s grace, that The Salvation Army in Tampa will thrive in the future.

 

We know we are embarking on a new adventure for our family, and we are all eager to learn what this new phase of our family’s life will include. We look forward to learning how God will use our family in the future.

 

For the King, 

Andy and Abby Miller

 

Here’s a link to a podcast interview I did with WBS president, Dr. Matt Ayars. If you listen to this interview, you will get a sense of where we are going. 

 

 

On "Changing the Army"

The following article first appeared in The Officer Magazine (July 2015). 

 A loyal soldier approached me, it was clear he had something important to say. It was Sunday and the holiness meeting had just finished. His index finger was pointed right at me and with an agitated tone he said, “Your goal must be to kill the Army. You are trying to change everything!” Kill? I think not. Advocate for change to advance the fight? Absolutely.

 

In contrast, a few years ago I received a phone call from a well-known Salvationist writer asking me to contribute a chapter to a volume on Salvation Army doctrine that would feature  “liberal” and “conservative” opinions on a variety of theological issues. He said, “We are looking for a solid conservative voice like yours.” That volume never came out, and I was too busy changing diapers, so I declined.

 

So what gives? Am I conservative or progressive? Do I want to change everything, or remain parked with the status quo? It depends on whom you ask.  My experiences have led me to ask, “In what way can, or should, we change the Army?”

 

In full disclosure, I am a person who loves intra-Army discussions and am invigorated by change. I enjoy expressing my passions about the Army so much that I have found it to be a temptation for me. However, my efforts to “change the Army” shouldn’t keep me from “being the Army” while living out my covenant. 

 

While at training, a staff officer said to a group of Cadets, “If you think you became an officer to change the Army, you are in the wrong place [officership, training college, etc.].” There are several ways to think about what is involved in “changing the Army.”

 

One way to enter these discussions is to list “non–negotiables,” as did General Clifton and General Rader. They have been helpful for my understanding of Salvation Army theology and practice. So when considering change you can ask yourself, “Are any of these values compromised in the process?” Other methods use mission statements, branding promises, or core values to achieve a similar response to proposed changes. For the Salvationist, and particularly the Officer, I suggest Covenant-centered change. If a simple test had to be administered it should be this, go look at your Soldier’s Covenant (Articles of War) and ask, “Is this change in conflict with what I covenanted with God?” 

 

What is it that has formed the essence of the church’s beliefs throughout its history; we could describe this as the canon or orthodoxy. The Army’s canon is most fully summarized in the covenant we share. It is expounded and clarified through Handbooks of Doctrine, Song Books, Year Books, and other publications.

 

Do some of these articles (doctrines) need nuancing? Probably, but that does not mean they need to change.  We need to explain what we mean by “…the divine rule…” We need to shade “total depravity” with prevenient grace. We need to carefully discuss and elaborate on what being “wholly sanctified” is and is not. We need to clarify that we are not platonic philosophers as we present a Christian version of “immortality of the soul.” It could be an American stylistic bias, but I wouldn’t mind gender neutrality in the human pronouns. These pieces are all consistent with how the Army does theology and I don’t think they need, or should, change. 

 

There are areas where I desire to see the Army change. I would love to see a renewed understanding of how we approach training and the connection therein to officer recruitment. A more nuanced conversation on sacraments would be helpful and welcomed. We probably need to do better in understanding the complexities of the marriage relationship in officership and how the dynamics of shared and separate appointments can work. The uniform and its use should be updated or changed as we seek to be a visible people. I have at times found myself helpfully and humbly corrected by experienced officers who have helped shape and refine my “ideas.” The biggest change I would like to see is this – more soldiers, more corps, and more officers, bringing more people to Christ’s saving grace. This is a necessary change. 

 

Changes that call us to redefine marriage, cut certain articles of our faith, reject original sin, deny the substitutionary nature of the cross, get rid of our name, become a formal high church that is a liturgically drenched denomination or embracing universalism all are changes that move us away from a centered identity, these changes are outside of the scope of Covenant-centered change. These changes are instead, Covenant-rejecting changes. 

 

So what of those changes? First, questions lead to answers and we need to ask good questions to get good answers. When I was learning to swim in the discipline of theological studies, I had to work through each article of faith. When I came up for air I discovered a richness in Army theology that humbled me.  

 

Second, if you come up for air in your search for truth and are resolutely opposed to the Army’s theology and you can no longer affirm the covenant, and if you are trying to make changes that move away from the canon of Salvation Army teaching or Covenant-centered change, I wonder if you should find another institution in which to serve. I say that not in cruelty or anger, but in love. These things will not change in the Army. I am no psychologist, but I think your life would be much more fulfilled in another movement if this is the sort of change you seek. 

 

A wise senior officer, who taught many years at the training college, described his approach in teaching the doctrines in our covenant. “Andy, I am not telling Cadets what they should believe, I am expanding on what they have covenanted their lives to believing and teaching.” 

 

 

If the changes I desire remain unchanged, then I trust God. Continued growth and relevance are contingent on our ability to adapt to our changing world. However, that change must be centered in the covenant which unites every Salvationist. 

                                                                                             

 

 Forward to the Fight!,

Andy Miller III

 

Where You Sit

In my new book, Stay the Course: Challenges to Salvationists from the Book of Acts (Atlanta: The Salvation Army, 2016), I have three chapters dedicated to Acts 2. On this Pentecost Sunday I share this one with you. The book will be released Jun 3, 2016. You can order a copy here.

Chapter 2

Where You Sit

Acts 2:1–4

After the disciples have their last conversation with Jesus, they watch their Lord miraculously ascend into Heaven, where He will “take His place” at the right hand of the Father. The angels come on the scene to ask them an interesting question: “Men of Galilee, why do you stand here looking into the sky?” (1:11) The angels inform the disciples that Jesus will return again, in the same way they have just seen Him leave.

But the angels’ question also implies: Don’t stand here any longer. It’s time to move on, to receive that power Jesus promised you. Jesus’ ascension is the necessary precursor to all that will happen in the 28 chapters of Acts, as the disciples of Jesus begin to fulfill the mission statement they have been given: to spread the Word in Jerusalem, Judea, Samaria, and to the ends of the Earth.

But what did the disciples do first?

 “They all joined together constantly in prayer … ” (Acts 1:14) While they wait, they pray. They don’t wait and wander; they wait in place and pray.

When Luke escorts us to the magnificent day of Pentecost, we find the disciples sitting and waiting. “When the day of Pentecost came, they were all together in one place.” (2:1) In the previous chapter of this book, we learned that waiting is actually an action. Mohandas Ghandi once said, “Action expresses priorities.” The disciples’ action of waiting expresses their larger priority—obeying their Lord, Jesus. 

Their sitting also brings a bit of tension to this scene. They may have been saying to themselves, Why are we sitting here, God? There is a world to save, a plan to enact, and we haven’t even moved out into Jerusalem, or even outside the walls of this house.

Yet they continue to sit, waiting, as Jesus had commanded. Then, as Jesus had promised, the Spirit arrives in that room in a most dramatic way.   

When the day of Pentecost came, they were all together in one place. Suddenly a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where they were sitting. They saw what seemed to be tongues of fire that separated and came to rest on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit enabled them. (2:1–4)

The Spirit doesn’t come because of the disciples’ abilities. The Spirit doesn’t come as they reach a level of cultural acceptance. The Spirit doesn’t come when they have the proper funding. The Spirit doesn’t come when they have finished their strategic plan. The Spirit doesn’t come because they have reached a high level of spiritual maturity. The Spirit doesn’t come after they have completed their readings, their degrees, or their lunch. The Spirit doesn’t come when they are perfect, where they might be someday or where they think they should be. The Spirit comes where they sit! Hallelujah!

It is interesting that in the telling of this great event, Luke never describes the disciples as “standing up,” until they begin to excitedly tell others about Jesus. The first time Luke writes about someone standing up is when Peter stands to give the very first “sermon”: “Then Peter stood up with the Eleven, raised his voice and addressed the crowd.” (2:14) The Spirit came to the disciples where they were sitting. Then they stood, filled with that Spirit, ready to change the world.

The Spirit also comes to us where we are sitting. The Spirit comes if we wait in prayer, knowing that outside of our “house” is a world that needs to be changed. But like the disciples, we dare not go without the Spirit.

Today, God wants to fill us where we are, where we sit, where we kneel, so that we can be His voice.

Where do you sit? He wants to fill you, where you are. Maybe you are retired and wondering how God can fill and use you at this point in your life. Maybe you are about to start something new or you need to make a decision. Maybe you have been filled before and you know it, but you are “leaking.”

Maybe you need to be filled again, D.L. Moody said, “A great many think because they have been filled once, they are going to be full for all time after, but O, my friends, we are leaky vessels, and have to be kept right under the fountain all the time in order to keep full.”[1]

So ask the Lord to fill you—where you sit.

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[1] Quoted in Lawrence W. Wood, Truly Ourselves, Truly the Spirit’s (Grand Rapids: Francis Asbury Press, 1989).

Here We Go: An Easter Sermon

Here We Go

Matthew 28

Easter Message 2012

Here we go. It’s Easter and once again we rally the troops and rally ourselves around this high point of the Christian year. When Abby and I were a part of the Lexington, KY corps , we participated in a literal sunrise service. Whenever the sun would rise, generally somewhere in the five-o-clock hour, the meeting started. The problem for me was that Abby and I lived forty-five minutes away. When the alarm went off around 4:00am getting out of bed took extraordinary effort. Trying to summon my stiff and sleeping muscles to start showing life, I would count… “OK…one, two, three,” ...nothing would happen!  Then as if I were a professional weightlifter I would say, ‘here we go,’ making a strong willful effort to lift myself out of bed. Then make my way to the sunrise service.  

It might have been that Mary Magdalene and “the other Mary” felt like they had to pull themselves out of bed the morning “after the Sabbath, at dawn on the first day of the week…”(28:1) they had to wake up before the sun could brighten their path[1] and head to the tomb.[2]

          For the past three weekends, I watched the NCAA basketball tournament. With every victory there was footage of the winning team bursting with excitement and raising their hands in the air. That image is contrasted by that of the losing team, covering their face with their jersey, some crying, hugging each other, or others standing still. We feel with them the weight of disappointment. Then at some point a teammate or a coach takes their arm and says “it’s alright” and they head to the locker room. They might simply say in a soft and disappointing tone, “ok…here we go, come on, here we go.”

I could be what these ladies named Mary had to do for each other on that morning. Yes, their hopes for the Messiah were failed. Yes, their leader who they thought could bring justice to the empire was dead. Yes, even Peter left him. Yes, the disciples are cowardly huddled away. But these women named Mary had to do something. They had to at least go and emotionally close this period in their lives. In the darkness of the first step of their morning, the Marys….said, “here we go.”

          A few days earlier, following Jesus’ crucifixion, “the chief priests and the Pharisees went to Pilate” (27:62) asking him to guard the tomb for fear that the disciples would “steal the body and tell people he was raised from the dead.” I can imagine the guards sarcastically moving toward the tomb, thinking “right we’re going to guard a dead man…they’re taking us off our regular watch to guard a dead man.” Cynically they could say to themselves, “Alright, [yes sir, boss]…here we go.”

          One group in sarcasm the other in lament, they both find themselves at the tomb on the first day of the week. Matthew is the only gospel to record the drama of an earthquake. He says, “a violent earthquake” came because an “angel of the Lord came down from heaven and, going to the tomb, rolled back the stone and sat on it” (28:2). I imagine Matthew includes the earthquake because he is connecting to a Jewish audience, which was used to Earthquakes accompanying God’s actions. Maybe the other gospel writers did not want to seem overly dramatic, but not Matthew. Matthew fills the scene with drama and the same happens as he describes the appearance of the angel.[3]

          The guards who had one job—to watch a dead man, ironically “became like dead men” (28:4) themselves. I am not sure if they were faking it like my sons do, when I come in and ask them if they are asleep. As they squint their eyes and move their head in my direction, I say “are you asleep?”  and they say, “yes.” Certainly this angel was not a soft cuddling precious moments figurine. This angel was striking and scared these full-time warriors to act like they were dead.

          It’s not surprising then that the first words of the angel are, “Do not be afraid…” (28:5). The next words were wonderfully shocking. I imagine for the rest of their lives they could hear the tone, the pitch, and the pace of the angel words:

“He is not here; he has risen, just as he said. Come and see the place where he lay. Then go quickly and tell his disciples: ‘He has risen from the dead and is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see him.’ Now I have told you” (28:5-7).     

          There are a few ways to read this last line.  It could seem like the end of the message. Something like the end of a message in a Mission Impossible scene, “this is the end of the message; in ten seconds this message will self-destruct.” Or we could hear it in a sophisticated tone, thus endeth the lesson, as the angel yawns, “now [yawn] I have told you.” This conclusion is connected to the four words of instruction, imperative commands, from the angel, “Come, see, go, tell.”  The angel tells them to get going and to tell the disciples.  They are commissioned with the most significant news in world history. “Now…anytime now…” The Marys maybe are waiting to hear another word, they are waiting to hear him say, “Now!! I have told you [get going].

          I can almost see the Marys looking to each other and saying, “I don’t know what all of this means, but here we go,” as they take off running and they hurry to obey. The text lets us into their world, and says that they were “afraid yet filled with joy.” Then “suddenly Jesus met them.”

          In an almost comic moment comes Jesus speaks to these ladies. He could have bellowed in a large voice, “Behold…I am raised from the dead, stop and worship me.” Instead he gives the most casual greeting; it is the equivalent of, “Good morning/What’s up.” Their response is to worship him.  Notice too, just in case any assume that Jesus did not bodily raise from the dead, that as they give homage they, “clasped his feat.” Meaning…Jesus was touchable and tangible. He was in every way alive and not a hallucination or a figment of their imagination.    

          Jesus speaks and gives a similar message as the angel did: “Do not be afraid. Go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me” (28:10). And so they went.

          I have never picked up in this passage, until now, how stark the contrast is between the women and the guards. They both are witnesses to a miraculous event. The women listen, while the guards appear dead.[4] Verse 11 paints the diverging ways they went that morning: “While the women were on their way…” (28:11).[5]  We are told that only “some of the guards went into the city and reported to the chief priests” (28:11). What surprises me is that these guards apparently told the truth about what happened.  Verse 11 says they “reported…everything that had happened.” This was certainly trouble for these guards. They had failed, but some of them looked at each other and their certain failure and said, “here we go.”[6]

           Both Marys go as they are told, the guards go and report, and the disciples also receive a command to go. You and I are here today because Mary Magalene and “the other Mary” went, and the disciples responded to Jesus’ call—went. Jesus gives them what we know as the great commission, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations” (28:18-19). They were to make disciples by going. Because of Jesus’ resurrection and its power they looked at each other on that mountain and could have said, “here we go.” It because of what we saw here…that we go.

          William Booth, the founder of our movement was fascinated by this commission. So much so that Officers weren’t originally ordained, they were only commissioned.[7] He had an article that that was published in 1885 simply titled, “Go!” In it he addresses those who say they are not called to go:

‘Not called’ did you say? Not heard the call, I think you should say…. Put your ear down to the Bible, and hear Him bid you go and pull poor sinners out of the fire of sin. Put your ear down to the burdened, agonized heart of humanity, and listen to its pitying wail for help. Go and stand by the gates of Hell, and hear the damned entreat you to go to their father’s house…And then look the Christ in the face, whose mercy you profess to have got [sic], and whose words you have promised to obey, and tell Him whether you will join us heart soul and body and circumstances in this march to publish his mercy to all the world.^[8]

          Those who are a part of the Salvation Army are called to be people who go. The Marys, the guards, and the disciples all respond to Easter by going. How will you go this morning?  Because the Marys went, because the disciples went…we go.

          There is someone else in this story that goes [break]. In 28:7 the angel says, “Then go quickly and tell his disciples: ‘He has risen from the dead and is going….” “…and is going…” Yes, the resurrected Jesus too is on the move. Jesus is going. Jesus isn’t a mere concept, he isn’t an idea, Jesus isn’t a set of rules, Jesus isn’t a denomination, and Easter tells us that he isn’t dead. Jesus is moving. Jesus is going. With thankfulness in my heart, I am glad that when Jesus looked at the chaos of the world because of sin, he didn’t sit on the sidelines. He didn’t play dead like the guards. Instead he looked at the trouble of our world with quiet resolve, “Here we go.” He went ahead even though he knew we would turn our backs on him. He is still going, by the way, as he looks at our world…he looks at your life and he wants to join you, so that together we can say with Jesus, here we go.

          How does Jesus go? That same verse says, he is “going ahead of you into Galiee.” We trust that when Jesus commissions us, just as he commissioned the Marys and the disciples. He is going ahead of us. God’s prevenient grace is working and moving before we ever arrive. Praise the risen Lord, we do not go alone! Because of the resurrection, we say with Jesus the Christ leading us—here we go!

          Not only does he go ahead of us, but he is available to us right now. Two different times there are beautiful and simple words in this passage: (1) 28:9, to the Marys, “Suddenly Jesus met them,” (2) 28:18 “Then Jesus came to them.” He wants to come to you this morning.

          The resurrection of Jesus starts a movement in time and space that challenges us to move our lives only by his grace. Here we go. It is from here: when Jesus conquers death. It is from here: The place where death loses its sting. It is from here: the empty tomb which declares Jesus as king of the world. It is from here: the place where our broken relationship is made right, that we go. [List some situations: additions, families, children, your next decision, your job, your challenge to witness, your need to live a life fully alive] It is from here, that we can say with Jesus, and move into a world longing for the power of his resurrection, that we go. It is from here, the reality and presence of the risen Christ that we go. Here we go. 

         

Preached April 12, 2012 in Arlington, Texas  

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[1] It’s too late now, but is interested how their path was brightened by the Son on their way back.

[2] Matthew’s telling of the Easter story is nuanced differently than the other gospels [Mark, Luke, John]. In Matthew they simply go to “look at the tomb” (28:1).

[3] Tom Wright, Matthew for Everyone; Craig Keener, IVP Commentary on Matthew.

[4] They both tell the good news as they go, but one to deny and the other to proclaim.

[5] Remember too that the first Christian were not called “Christians” that was a name mocking them. The first disciples were called, “followers of the way.” Here Matthew shows the “women were on their way.”

[6] My soft spot for these guys…how do we know that they followed through and took the money to lie? Could it be that latter, and this is pure speculation, they came to recognize who Jesus was? Could it be that they could not ignore the image that they saw of that morning. Maybe Matthew has this source because one or more of these soldiers becomes a follower of Jesus. At some point the guard says, I can’t lie any longer and say, “Here [ the way of the cross and the resurrected Christ]…here we go.”

[7] Now officers are commissioned and ordained. More this in Harold Hill’s book on leadership in the SA.

[8] William Booth, “Go!” The General’s Letters, 1885 (London: International Headquarters, 1890), 4-5. 

A Reason to Shout “Hallelujah”

I was caught off guard. My Salvation Army worshiping tradition has produced in me a naturally interactive worship style that wasn’t ready for what I was about to experience. Surrounded by fellow students from many denominations, my “Amens” and specifically my “Hallelujahs” distinguished me amongst hundreds of my colleagues at Asbury Seminary.  Then role reversal came when I was the unresponsive, reserved worshiper. Outfitted in liturgical gown, Dr. Ellsworth Kalas majestically read the Scripture lesson for the morning. When he finished, my eyes were drawn to him as he raised the Bible in the air, not just to eye level, but above his head as far as his arms could reach. With a joyful thunder in his voice he declared, “This is the word of God for the people of God.” I was overcome with emotion with the respect being given to Scripture, and I had a “hallelujah” ready to burst out of my mouth, in old-fashioned Army style, but I was interrupted. I was interrupted by the non-Salvationists in the room, everyone but me that is, as they said back with vigor, “Thanks be to God!”

Dumbfounded in that moment, I realized that maybe this liturgical style was not as dusty as I thought. I was taught in Corps Cadets to simply repeat, “May the Lord add a blessing to the reading of His word.” In that moment in the seminary chapel service I was disappointed with our movement. “Come on….we’re the people with brass bands, fire volleys, waving flags, Joe the Turk, and hallelujahs. We’ve got to do better.” In becoming friends with my fellow students, I found a similar love and respect to what my tradition taught me about Scripture. I learned their hearts were filled with deep conviction when they responded to the affirmation, “This is the word of God for the people of God.”

Despite our lack of a liturgical formula in the Army, we do whole heartedly agree with many other denominations about the authority and power of God’s word. We affirm in our first article of faith that the Old and New Testaments are inspired Scripture, representing “the divine rule of Christian faith and practice.”

                

When we say the Bible is the “divine rule” in this context, we mean so much more than a rule book. While reading a fairly technical book on theological hermeneutics (I get tired just saying that), these words of Dr. Kevin Vanhoozer hit me right between the eyes: the Bible is “less textbook [rulebook] than playbook.”[1] With this image of the playbook, Scripture becomes a basis for how we practice, live, breath, and battle as Christians. It is the source for our action as a movement of God. It is the battle plan for an Army: a fight which we know we will win. Scripture then is more than ‘do’s and don’ts,’ or a “instruction manual” but this vision sees Scripture saying to us today, “Here we are in the fight, and here we go!” If you take away the revelation of God that comes through Scripture, then we are running around in circles lacking reason and rhyme.  So the divine rule is more than rules.

It is no surprise that when General William Booth crafted the articles of faith of the Christian Mission (later The Salvation Army), he primarily copied the doctrinal formations from his previous denomination—The Methodist New Connexion. That is where we get this phrase the “divine rule.” John Wesley, our spiritual grandfather in the faith, is the source of this language. He called it the “rule of faith” or the “analogy of faith.” In his Explanatory Notes on the New Testament he explained that this rule is:

The basis for understanding the grand scheme of doctrine…original sin, justification by faith, and present and inward salvation….any question should be determined by this rule… interpreted according to the grand truths which run through the whole.[2]

It was Wesley’s way of keeping the big story of salvation in front of his reading of Scripture. Essentially the divine rule implies that we should keep the “fight” in mind as we read the Bible. Or with a sports image, the “action on the field” is the purpose of the playbook.  The action that we affirm as this “divine rule” is that God is working in history to save the world through the resurrected Christ. Scripture constitutes this divine rule and the authority of the God who inspired it. The pages and the ink itself are not our authority, but it represents the divine rule, which is God’s authority. British Bible Scholar, N.T. Wright helped me understand the point that Scripture is authoritative not by itself but because is carries the authority of God.   

                

With this confidence in Scripture as the foundation for my identity as a Salvationist, I have adapted a practice in worship that affirms what I have been itching for since my days at Asbury Seminary. Just as my friends in more liturgical contexts relish their opportunity to affirm the place of Scripture when the reader proclaims, “This is the word of God for the people of God,” and the congregation responds, “Thanks be to God,” we in The Salvation Army can develop a distinct affirmation. One suggestion that has been meaningful in a corps that I serve gives people an opportunity for an old fashioned “fire a volley.” The person reading scripture symbolically lifts up the Bible after it has been read and declares, “This is the word of God for the Army of God” to which the corps’ congregation responds “Hallelujah!” The interactive worship style that we love in Salvation Army congregations can meet up with the consistency of liturgical drama. This practice has been a beautiful part of our worship.

                

This statement affirms that the word of God—the Bible— is the engine of God’s Army and consequently a good reason to shout hallelujah. Wherever I have preached during the last few years, I have introduced this practice. Just after I preached for the Territorial Executive Council and explained this idea, a wise senior officer in my territory came to me with a little concern. “Andy, about that…” My stomach turned a little as he started to speak because he had the ability to give me “marching orders” right then and there. Sheepishly I responded, “Yes, sir?” “The word of God is not just for the Army of God…it’s for all the people of God.” Then as he and I discussed the point, we both affirmed that this concept of the “Army of God” is bigger than “The Salvation Army.” Salvationism and the divine rule of Christian faith and practice is about the way all Christians rally around the authority of God as revealed in Scripture. With his encouragement I kept the practice up. I confidentially encourage every believer, but specifically the battle focused Salvationist, to let out a “Hallelujah” when hearing the “word of God for the Army of God!”

This article appeared in the July 7, 2012 edition of The War Cry 

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[1] Kevin J. Vanhoozer, The Drama of Doctrine: A Canonical-Linguistic Approach to Christian Theology (Louisville: WJK, 2005), 145.  

[2] John Wesley, comment on Romans 12:6, in Explanatory Notes on the New Testament (London: Epwoth Press, 1954), 569-570. 

Holistic Hospitality: A Bridge to a Future Army - Chapter One - Make Room

On Wednesday my book, Holistic Hospitality, was released on Amazon, at the moment it is under Amazon Prime which gives you some options if you would like to make bulk orders. Also there is a subtle discount. If you are with the Salvation Army's Southern Territory you can use your account and order it from trade@uss.salvationarmy.org. Or preferably you can get a copy of it on Amazon here. This chapter is based on a sermon I preached in Arlington, Texas. The rest of the book develops  the historical, theological, and practical dimensions of this command from Paul.

Forward to the Fight,
Andy Miller III

Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves. Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. Share with the Lord’s people who are in need. Practice hospitality. —Romans 12:9–13

I wanted to leave, and no one would have blamed me. I could see nothing but an ocean of gold and dark blue. There had to be 40,000 people looking down at me, and not one was glad to see me. I was at the bottom of the section, and our tickets were marked NN, so our seats were far past the Z section, at least 40 rows away. As I looked up, my legs tightened for the climb ahead.

My parents, who were then serving a Salvation Army corps in St. Louis, had gotten us the tickets to see our team, the Chicago Bears, play the high–flying, “greatest show on turf,” St. Louis Rams. But it was a Sunday game, and there was no way we were getting out of church early. So we arrived at the game in the middle of the second quarter. The fans were all in their seats as my family walked in. My brother and I, with our Bears jerseys and other fan gear on, tried to balance our food as we walked up the seemingly endless staircase. You can imagine the interesting and colorful language that was flying in our direction. Talk about feeling out of place! We wanted to leave, but we “hung in there” even in the face of defeat. I have never felt as unwelcomed by so many people as I did that day. People did not want to make room for us in their stadium.

Have you ever felt unwelcome? Your experience might not be as dramatic as being outnumbered by thousands at a football game. Maybe you moved to a new town or stepped into a new school. Maybe you were sent in to replace someone else on a job, or you had to give someone an assignment you knew they didn’t want. Sometimes when people are forced to make room, they are not very welcoming.

Or have there been times when it was you who didn’t want to make room? I grew up in a family with four kids (I was the oldest), so private space did not exist in our house. As most Salvationists know, the Army owns the houses of officers. On one occasion, we moved from a five–bedroom house to a three–bedroom one. Well, I did not want to give up my space and “make room” for my brother.

Sacrificing your space is hard. But “making room” is more than a physical reality. Maybe you don’t want to make room in your world for people you don’t like. Making room stinks. Why? Because you have to give up; you have to give in; and you have to share.

Reading Romans 12:9–13, it’s easy to jump past some of the commands Paul gives. The text seems like a typical list of “do’s” and don’ts.” In just the first few verses we read: “Be devoted … honor one another … never lack in zeal … keep your spiritual fervor … be joyful in hope … be patient … be faithful in prayer … share … ” (vv. 9-13). The list is much like what my wife, Abby, and I said to our son, Andy IV, as he went off to pre–school. Suddenly we felt the need to summarize everything we had taught him in three years of life: “Ask for help, say please, eat your food, tell your teachers when you have to go … ” (Then we cried because we saw the inevitability of our son’s growing up.)

After Paul’s list of admonitions, he writes one command in a sentence that takes two words: “Practice hospitality.” The force in the original language is hard to communicate. In Greek, it is as if Paul underlined this word and made the font extra large, extra bold, with italics: “You must practice hospitality.” Or it could be translated, “Pursue hospitality.” The word here for pursue was often used to describe a hunt or a vigorous chase.

The backstory of this letter is that Paul was writing to Christians in Rome whom he had not met. The church there was not a big group that came together in a large cathedral. Instead, there were small churches that met in homes. What was distinct about this Christian population was that some were Christianized Jews and others were Gentile Christians. In 49 A.D., the Jews in Rome had been exiled, and this letter was likely written as they were returning from that exile. The two groups had to learn how to love each other and exist as “the church” in Rome. You can imagine that they might not have wanted to get along. Paul was giving them this command to practice hospitality because it was something that they lacked. He needed to say, “Be devoted to one another in love” (12:10), and “Share with the Lord’s people who are in need” (12:13). Maybe these Christians needed to be challenged to make room for each other.

We live in a very inhospitable time. As a society, we don’t want to make room for anything. We don’t want to make room for others, especially strangers. Even though I meet strangers who are looking for help every day right here in my office, it is easy for me to say to myself, Don’t they realize that I am behind on a hundred emails, and our Angel Tree application process doesn’t start for two weeks? Can’t they read the sign on the door? In our increasingly isolated world, it is also easy for us to stick with the friends we have on Facebook, the contacts in our email list, or the people we see on a regular basis. We don’t have time for new people—for strangers.

But the heart of the word hospitality is strangers. In Greek, the word for hospitality is an invented word, kind of like “shop–ortunity” or “fan–demonium.” It combines the word for brotherly love, phileos (as in Philadelphia), and the word for stranger, xenos. The essence of the word hospitality, then, is “love of stranger.”

Today, the word hospitality has come to be associated with the hospitality industry or conversation over coffee at someone’s house. But until the last 300 years, the word was specifically understood as a Christian practice. So the root of the word, hosp, is found in the words hospital, hostel, and hospice. The idea was that Christians had a duty to make room for strangers.

Our inhospitable world, in which “it’s all about me,” shuts people out. That is why most Salvation Army shelters have a waiting list. It is why people are starving; it is why children are left alone; it is why people are sold into slavery; it is why there are wars.

Our lack of a welcoming attitude is more than, “We don’t want to make room … We don’t want to practice hospitality.” The scary thought to me is that we often say to ourselves: “We don’t have to make room … We don’t have to practice hospitality … We don’t have to love the stranger.”

God didn’t have to make room either. These problems in our world are not His fault. Sin is not His fault. God created our world for us, but our corporate sin in Adam has brought us to a place of rejecting all that God has given us. Our sin separates us from God; our selfishness keeps us from looking at anyone beyond ourselves; and those things that we know have moved against God’s direction in our lives give God every right to say, “I don’t have to make room.”

But thanks be to God that in Jesus Christ, God made room for us. We don’t deserve the mercy of God as He stepped out in time in the person of Jesus Christ to welcome us. When our world is blind and looking for its way, Jesus steps in as the Savior for all of humanity to offer us salvation—to save us from our sin, and to offer us a new way of understanding and looking at the world.

Later in Paul’s letter, he challenges the believers in Rome to, “Welcome one another, then, just as Christ welcomed you, for the glory of God” (15:7, NRSV). How did Jesus welcome us? He welcomed us on the Cross. While I was a cadet at the training college in Atlanta, I often I went out on our canteen ministry, where we interacted with people living under bridges on a weekly basis. One man became my friend. He said to me one day, “I know why you do this, ’cause of what He [finger pointing up] did.”

In other words, we help people not to make ourselves feel better but because Jesus has welcomed us.

I suggest that we would do well to reframe our ministry in The Salvation Army. We should not be simply “doing social services” or “opening a shelter.” Instead we should be opening ourselves, our resources, and our buildings, as we are commanded to do, in light of Christ’s making room for us. We should practice hospitality.