My First LJ Entry As A (Practical) Noncombatant!
It has been a while since I've blogged, but, as this entry title indicates, I bear great news! My Division General approved my noncombatant status, and the paperwork is now in the hands of Department of the Army Headquarters. The official bestowal of noncombatant status upon myself is eminent. But in the meantime, while waiting for the administrative particulars to come into effect, my unit leadership has agreed to relieve me of my weapon. So, I've actually been without a weapon for... I'm not sure exactly... a few months, now? It required some persistence to be rewarded with such practical noncombatant status from the people I work with, but I had the backing of the official army regulations as well as the highest levels of the Theater's legal team. It's interesting how much this process has involved extremely high ranking personnel.
But why did I not share this earlier? To be sure, it has since been a season of skepticism. I allowed myself to share celebratory joy with those from my unit who were happy to see me released of my rifle. But in private, I checked my initial emotional response. In doing so, it began to seem to me that continuing to wear this uniform (officially called the Army Combat Uniform) was now as condemning as carrying an unused rifle had been. It seemed that I had not entirely repented, and thus had not repented, of my variation of true Christian discipleship. What to do, then? Accepting that I was not a Christian, and more fully that I had not been a Christian for years, was miserable, but true to my conscience. Having admitted that, I was desperate to become a Christian again. Such a thing could be done the very day it is considered, but I was tortured by the hole I had dug myself in. I had asked much of my unit and the greater Army, in enlisting, in re-enlisting, in deciding I need to be disarmed, in allowing myself to become part of the deployment team, and now, to frustrate it all, to decide that disarming is not enough, but only an immediate refusal to participate at all. So, I concluded that, out of basic decency to my unit and the Army, I should not outright quit my services until my unit had returned from the deployment. This would at least make their administrations easier, besides demonstrating that my latest decision is at least not a fit unable to outlast the deployment mission.
This was a miserable time. I had little hope for myself, should I die and be returned to my Lord before I had reached the time when I was willing to fully repent. But I had grown so disgusted with the accumulative disregard for others that I had gained over my lifetime. I refused the cost of repentance on others until I could reasonably and substantially reduce it (by allowing the deployment some months to finish). My prayers to God were confused, unsure of their own sincerity or motivations, desperate but resolute in disregarding self, even personal salvation, should it cause others to righteously bemoan the burden of survival-centric Christianity. Looking, back, I can only admire God for his patience and affection throughout this whole ordeal, besides my greater lifetime.
Things began to improve only after I opened up to those around me. My chaplain and social worker served as sounding boards as I voiced my intent to respectfully refuse to work, once we had all returned from the deployment, come what may. After that (although I should have done it long before) I shared an e-mail exchange with D-Rock, which also seemed to serve foremost as merely a sounding board. It was my own blundering through the issues that confronted me with the latest satisfying truth: Jesus paid taxes.
The implications were mind-blowing. Jesus paid taxes to the Roman empire. The Roman empire slew Jesus and countless of his followers in the Preconstantinian Church. The Roman empire slew countless gentiles within and without its citizenship. And yet Jesus, who knew best, dutifully paid taxes without incurring guilt. By God's standard then, one can generally fund whatever government and not need to be identified with and condemned with its specific policies and executions. I could resist this incredible compromise on God's part
no longer. And with this submission to the wisdom and courage of God (though they confound me), I find the strong implication that being a noncombatant in an army, offering the medical services that anyone needs, while being an open enemy to the cause of war, and being recognized and defended as such, is quite acceptable.
As a measure to safeguard my motives, and also to keep faith with statements I have made in the past, I will continue my recent commitment (it came in full strength in January of this year) to give away the great majority of my military salary (after bills) to charities. Further, I won't use my GI Bill, among other benefits (though I wouldn't mind transferring them a stranger, if I had the opportunity), will refuse promotion (as I had been doing thus far for professional reasons), and will not acknowledge any decorations or awards earned.
So, it's pretty great to be a Christian again- and to know it!
Yours,
Jake
But why did I not share this earlier? To be sure, it has since been a season of skepticism. I allowed myself to share celebratory joy with those from my unit who were happy to see me released of my rifle. But in private, I checked my initial emotional response. In doing so, it began to seem to me that continuing to wear this uniform (officially called the Army Combat Uniform) was now as condemning as carrying an unused rifle had been. It seemed that I had not entirely repented, and thus had not repented, of my variation of true Christian discipleship. What to do, then? Accepting that I was not a Christian, and more fully that I had not been a Christian for years, was miserable, but true to my conscience. Having admitted that, I was desperate to become a Christian again. Such a thing could be done the very day it is considered, but I was tortured by the hole I had dug myself in. I had asked much of my unit and the greater Army, in enlisting, in re-enlisting, in deciding I need to be disarmed, in allowing myself to become part of the deployment team, and now, to frustrate it all, to decide that disarming is not enough, but only an immediate refusal to participate at all. So, I concluded that, out of basic decency to my unit and the Army, I should not outright quit my services until my unit had returned from the deployment. This would at least make their administrations easier, besides demonstrating that my latest decision is at least not a fit unable to outlast the deployment mission.
This was a miserable time. I had little hope for myself, should I die and be returned to my Lord before I had reached the time when I was willing to fully repent. But I had grown so disgusted with the accumulative disregard for others that I had gained over my lifetime. I refused the cost of repentance on others until I could reasonably and substantially reduce it (by allowing the deployment some months to finish). My prayers to God were confused, unsure of their own sincerity or motivations, desperate but resolute in disregarding self, even personal salvation, should it cause others to righteously bemoan the burden of survival-centric Christianity. Looking, back, I can only admire God for his patience and affection throughout this whole ordeal, besides my greater lifetime.
Things began to improve only after I opened up to those around me. My chaplain and social worker served as sounding boards as I voiced my intent to respectfully refuse to work, once we had all returned from the deployment, come what may. After that (although I should have done it long before) I shared an e-mail exchange with D-Rock, which also seemed to serve foremost as merely a sounding board. It was my own blundering through the issues that confronted me with the latest satisfying truth: Jesus paid taxes.
The implications were mind-blowing. Jesus paid taxes to the Roman empire. The Roman empire slew Jesus and countless of his followers in the Preconstantinian Church. The Roman empire slew countless gentiles within and without its citizenship. And yet Jesus, who knew best, dutifully paid taxes without incurring guilt. By God's standard then, one can generally fund whatever government and not need to be identified with and condemned with its specific policies and executions. I could resist this incredible compromise on God's part
no longer. And with this submission to the wisdom and courage of God (though they confound me), I find the strong implication that being a noncombatant in an army, offering the medical services that anyone needs, while being an open enemy to the cause of war, and being recognized and defended as such, is quite acceptable.
As a measure to safeguard my motives, and also to keep faith with statements I have made in the past, I will continue my recent commitment (it came in full strength in January of this year) to give away the great majority of my military salary (after bills) to charities. Further, I won't use my GI Bill, among other benefits (though I wouldn't mind transferring them a stranger, if I had the opportunity), will refuse promotion (as I had been doing thus far for professional reasons), and will not acknowledge any decorations or awards earned.
So, it's pretty great to be a Christian again- and to know it!
Yours,
Jake