ORSBORNAGAIN (27)
A devotional series by Major Rob Birks
ORSBORNAGAIN is meant to introduce the poetry of the first Poet General, Albert Orsborn (1886-1967) to a new audience and to reintroduce his works to dyed-in-the-(tropical)-wool Salvationists.
These are not new songs.
However, the lyrics are jam-packed with new life, which may be missed during corporate worship. Re-examined through scripture and experience, Rob Birks intends through an examination of these scared songs to renew the spiritual fervor of believers, and point seekers to their Savior.
Not unto us, O Lord,
But unto thy great name;
Our trumpets are awake,
Our banners are aflame,
We boast no battle ever won;
The victory is thine alone.
We were that foolish thing
Unversed in worldly ways,
Which thou didst choose and use
Unto thy greater praise,
Called and commissioned from afar
To bring to naught the things that are.
A hundred anthems rise
For every fighting year
Since thou, as Lord of hosts,
Our captain did appear
To sanctify, to take command
And bring us to the promised land.
Not yet we hail the day
When all to thee shall yield,
But we behold thee stand
Upon our battlefield.
And this alone shall ever be
Our sign and seal of victory.
Albert Orsborn
969 – Our Response to God – Life & Service, Warfare
“Trumpets,” “banners,” “anthems”—I love a parade! Most people do, I think, to some degree. The imagery in this song leads me to believe that Orsborn envisioned The Salvation Army as a parade of formerly foolish types, “called and commissioned,” cleaned and commanded by the “captain,” whose presence is “our sign and seal of victory.” Great stuff! But what if the parade marches off course? What if the parade becomes the thing? God, help us! (That was a prayer, by the way.) Many parades, most notably the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade in New York, involve balloons. Here’s a cautionary tale of balloons gone bad:
In a village far from wherever you are as you read this, there lived a people who were very poor, but very happy; poor because money was scarce, happy because they knew their place and purpose in the world. Their village had been built on the southern side of a tremendously large sinkhole. For centuries, people traveling north would fall helplessly into the sinkhole, never to be seen or heard from again. When this came to the attention of the ruler of the land, he commissioned a village to be erected on the southern side of the hole for the sole purpose of warning travelers away from danger and death. And so, the town was raised (not pretty, but functional) and the community developed (not pretty, but friendly and faithful). They knew what to do; their mission was clear: warn people and steer them away from falling into the pit.
The ruler’s plan worked. Countless lives were saved. For several years, the lifesaving village developed new ways of helping travelers avoid the sinkhole on their journey north. One of the most creative ideas was the “balloon brigade.” Members of the village would blow up bright balloons and place them around the edges of the pit. This served at least two purposes: creating beauty in a place which desperately needed beauty, and (most importantly) catching the attention of weary travelers, and saving their lives.
After a century or so, however, something went terribly wrong. The balloon plan didn’t seem to be working any longer. Or at least the plan wasn’t working as well as it had in the early days. Most travelers either didn’t see the balloons, or saw them and weren’t curious enough to inquire as to their purpose. This trend led to innumerable deaths. One might think this would’ve caused the village some concern. One would be wrong. While it’s true that some in the village attempted to sound the alarm and questioned the effectiveness of the balloon brigade, they were not taken seriously. In fact, these warnings and wonderings were seen by the village elders as rebellion against the ruler’s original plan for the village. “We were built to blow up balloons” was the party line of the day. So those who thought differently (i.e., “the village was built to save lives”) were stuck with one of three choices:
- Try something new on their own, though it would be unsanctioned and unsupported by the village.
- Leave for another village that welcomed new life saving ideas and techniques.
- Shut up, pull up a chair, and blow all of their hot air into balloons.
It should be noted that at some point the blown up balloons were no longer even placed on the edges of the sinkhole. Instead, balloons decorated the inside walls of the village homes and gathering places. The balloons became the thing. Much time, energy and money was invested into the production and celebration of balloons. And the travelers kept walking, falling and dying.
Here is where the account comes to an end. I have no idea what happened to the village, the sinkhole, the travelers, or the balloon brigade. Do you?
When an Army settles down to the acceptance of a code and is content to stitch its trophies on its banners and admire its own history, that army is lost. —Albert Orsborn (as quoted on the wall at the William Booth Birthplace Museum in Nottingham, England)
Not unto us, O Lord, but unto thy great name …