'Ye are of his militia; ye are now to fight his battles': Jeremy Taylor, Confirmation, and the Quiet Revival
Be open about the cost of being a Christian. Young men in particular really want to be challenged. Talk about the ways that following Jesus has been hard, and then talk about why it was worth it. Talk about Christian views on sex and porn. Talk about giving money away to the poor. Talk about how Jesus teaches us to forgive our enemies. Talk about the spiritual disciplines. Talk about sacrifice. Tell them to read Bonhoeffer.
The reason it caught my attention is that, with Confirmation soon to be administered in the parish, I have been re-reading Jeremy Taylor's A Discourse of Confirmation (1663). (I thoroughly recommend the very reasonably priced Seminary Street Press edition.) Now, yes, one might think that a 21st century charismatic theologian and Jeremy Taylor are not the most obvious theological combination. Taylor's A Discourse on Confirmation, however, is a superb statement of how Confirmation brings us to share in the gift of Pentecost.
Coppin's point about those coming to faith in the 'quiet revival' being open to being challenged by Christianity - indeed, actively wanting this challenge - was in my mind as I read Taylor's account of Confirmation as the Holy Spirit equipping us for the challenges and conflicts of Christian service:
in confirmation we receive strength to do all that which was for us undertaken in baptism: For the Apostles themselves (as the holy fathers observe) were timorous in the Faith, until they were confirmed in Pentecost, but after the reception of the Holy Ghost, they waxed valiant in the Faith, and in all their spiritual combats ...
The aids given in Confirmation are in order to our contention and our danger, our temptation and spiritual warfare ...
Remember how great things ye have received, and what God hath done for you; ye are of his flock, and his Militia; ye are now to fight his battles, and therefore to put on his armour, and to implore his auxiliaries, and to make use of his strengths, and always to be on his side, against all his and all our Enemies. But he that desires grace, must not despise to make use of all the instruments of grace. For though God communicates his invisible spirit to you, yet that he is pleas'd to do it by visible instruments is more than he needs, but not more than we do need. And therefore since God descends to our infirmities, let us carefully and lovingly address our selves to his ordinances; that as we receive remission of sins by the washing of water, and the body and blood of Christ by the ministry of consecrated Symbols, so we may receive the Holy Ghost sub Ducibus Christianae militiae, by the prayer and imposition of the Bishop's hands, whom our Lord Jesus hath separated to this ministry.
Taylor here sets forth an understanding of Confirmation that surely has relevance amidst the 'quiet revival': an ordinance to strengthen us, by the indwelling of the Holy Spirit, for the spiritual battles of the Christian life. While the secular culture of North Atlantic societies is intellectually, morally, and spiritually exhausted, this does not at all mean that those coming to Christian faith in the 'quiet revival' will not face challenge, sometimes bitter opposition, and demoralising contexts. This is where Taylor's portrayal of Confirmation has significance and application: it is an ordinance for such a time, strengthening us for service in Christ's "militia".
If you are uncomfortable with the phrase, I confess that I too have been uncomfortable with it in the past. There are, however, a few reasons why I think we should get past our discomfort.
While there is a risk that such language can be misinterpreted and misapplied, this is also true of much of the language of Christian devotion. Eating the Lord's Body and Blood, the use of romantic and sexual metaphors to describe the relationship between God and the believer, King and Kingdom, crucified with Christ, holy kiss - the list is rather extensive, but such language rightly continues to be commonplace in Christian piety and devotion. The suspicion must be that because military metaphors offend a certain type of 21st century progressive sensibility, they are particularly singled out for criticism and rejection.
We also need to recognise the realities of the cultural context faced by those coming to faith in the 'quiet revival'. They have experienced - in a way which those of us who are older often have not - the social, cultural, and spiritual costs of a profoundly confused, disordered society. (Jonathan Haidt's The Anxious Generation: How the Great Rewiring of Children is Causing an Epidemic of Mental Illness examines but one expression of this.) The language of 'militia', 'battles', and 'armour' can have a deep resonance in such a cultural context. It would be very foolish of the churches not to recognise this.
It should be very obvious that such language also has deep roots in Scripture and the Christian tradition. From the Lord teaching about the Kingdom through a parable about a king "going to make war against another king", to the Apostle's "take unto you the whole armour of God", from the Prayer Book's "manfully to fight under his banner", to Ignatius of Loyola's "to fight, and not to heed the wounds", such language is both clearly scriptural and embedded in the Christian tradition. To avoid it or - worse - to repress it, is to deny a means from Scripture and the Christian tradition of addressing contexts in which such language is not only appropriate but required.
Finally, there is the fact that Taylor was very well aware of how such language could be disordered and perverted. Having served as a chaplain to Royalist forces in the civil wars of the 1640s, he knew how Parliamentarian forces 'weaponised' such language in the pursuit of earthly political goals. As he stated in the dedication of Holy Living:
I have lived to see Religion painted upon Banners, and thrust out of Churches, and the Temple turned into a Tabernacle, and that Tabernacle made ambulatory, and covered with skins of Beasts and torn Curtains, and God to be worshipped not as he is the Father of our Lord Jesus (an afflicted Prince, the King of sufferings) nor, as the God of peace (which two appellatives God newly took upon him in the New Testament, and glories in for ever:) but he is owned now rather as the Lord of Hosts [the war cry of Cromwell's New Model Army], which title he was pleased to lay aside when the Kingdom of the Gospel was preached by the Prince of peace But when Religion puts on Armour, and God is not acknowledged by his New Testament titles, Religion may have in it the power of the Sword, but not the power of Godliness.
A Discourse on Confirmation was written a decade after Holy Living, with the horrors of the civil wars and the subsequent constitutional disorder of the Cromwellian regime all too apparent to Taylor and those to whom he ministered. It did not stop him, however, from rightly invoking and employing the language of 'militia', 'battles', and 'armour' when describing the Christian life in general, and Confirmation in particular. Indeed, in 1655 - only 5 years after Holy Living, and surrounded by the consequences of the Parliamentarian victory - Taylor would offer this prayer for us in Golden Grove:
Pity us in the midst of these disorders; and give us spiritual Strength, holy Resolutions, a watchful Spirit, the whole Armour of God, and thy protection, the guard of Angels, and the conduct of thy holy Spirit to be our security in the day of danger. Give us thy grace to fly from all occasions to sin, that we may never tempt our selves, nor delight to be tempted; and let thy blessed Providence so order the accidents of our lives, that we may not dwell near an enemy; and when thou shalt try us, and suffer us to enter into combat, let us always be on thy side, and fight valiantly, resist the Devil, and endure patiently, and persevere constantly unto the end, that thou mayest crown thy own work in us.
Armour, security, enemy, combat, fight valiantly, resist, endure: Taylor, even with his bitter experience of spiritual language being weaponised for earthly ends, knew that military metaphors must have a role in the Christian life.
(The second picture is taken from the website of the excellent St. Bartholomew the Great, London.)
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