I stood looking at
the front of the Salvation Army Hall.
It was dusk.
The frontage, a bit
retro, a bit intimidating, loomed large,
casting an evening shadow about half way across the road.
The Citadel.
Citadel?
A word that sounds
so utterly regal.
A word that speaks
of safety inside.
A protective retreat
for the forces.
A protective shield
for our communities.
Of course the word
citadel, comes from the Latin word civis, meaning citizen. Many say the citadel
is the strongest part of the town and the last line of defence in a city
system.
Citadel.
So many Salvation
Army Corps call themselves a citadel.
Loads of them have
it in their names.
And.
As I stood in the
dim light of dusk looking up at a real time Citadel.
I wonder.
Inside the spaces of
my wondering I feel a question surface.
Are we?
A citadel?
Am I a citadel?
A last line of
defence for our communities?
The strongest part
of town?
Cos.
The Citadel ain't
really the building.
Is it.
In fact?
It's us.
We are it.
The citadel.
And in the dusk.
I ask myself am I
really the strongest part of town?
Would I defend my
community to the last?
Yeah.
I wonder.
We are not talking
about doing Salvation Army for Salvation Army's sake.
No.
We are talking about
defending our community in Spiritual
terms.
Battling to
establish peace and justice.
By pushing back the
dark forces of this world with a depth of love that can only come from the
heart of Jesus. Stopping at nothing to turn our attention on the needs and the
cries of the broken. Stocking up our armoury with the weapons of love
acceptance and compassion, sharpening our approach with the communion of Gods incessant love. Advancing the war with
open arms and an open door.
Yeah.
Sounds like a
citadel to me.
The strongest part
of town.
The last line of
defence.
So a call from God
to the Salvation Army asks this.
Will you be a
citadel?
Will you?
Can you?
Are you?
Dusk turns into
night.
I walk on.
I know I've heard from God.
He is astonishing.
