Commander of commanders
At first I ignored him. My mind focused on too many other things as I walked along the street: the crisp wind biting through my Navy Dress Blue uniform; my son's graduation from Boot Camp; my scheduled flight back to San Diego in two days. Little wonder I hardly noticed the new recruit suddenly snap to attention and salute. Besides, no one salutes a naval officer a block and a half down the street.
But when I looked up, he was still there -- frozen at attention, and I realized he was waiting for me to return the salute.
He was not the only recruit at Great Lakes Recruit Training Command to go out of his way to salute me. Everywhere I went -- the food court, the barracks, the Shopette -- young men and women nearly fell over themselves to render the military courtesy.
Over the next two days, as I watched groups of novice sailors march to a cadence-call, double-time to chow or stroll with their families visiting for graduation, I realized how different things are in the "real" navy. I knew from experience that some of those salute-happy recruits would -- in only a few short months -- become careless about what they learned in boot camp. Instead of snapping a salute, they will cross the street to avoid rendering the courtesy. Instead of standing to their feet when an officer enters the room, they will avert their eyes and pretend no one is there.
As I silently (and a little pompously) lamented how some of those young men and women would lose their zeal for military discipline, my mind took an unexpected turn.
As new Christians, when we first meet the King of kings and Commander of commanders, many of us nearly fall over ourselves trying to honor Him and render the respect He is due. We are careful to stifle old habits of using His Name flippantly. We are attentive to our choice of clothing and entertainment. We force ourselves to be honest in our relationships with others. We devour the Scriptures in daily study.
Then, somehow, "real" life takes its toll and some of us grow careless. The awesome becomes trite, the magnificent trivial. Our sense of holy respect dulls to casual regard. When once we were embarrassed at the thought of personal sin, now some of us invent a dozen excuses for our behavior. When once we were quick to listen for His voice, now we find it deceptively easy to cross the street and pretend He is not there.
Such carelessness before the Almighty knows no particular era. I am reminded of the Lord's lament through the Old Testament prophet, "An ox knows its owner, and a donkey its master's manger . . . .but my people do not understand" (Isaiah 1:3).
As I observed the new recruits, I wondered how much I understand.
The passion of those young sailors for military courtesy reminded me of something I periodically forget: I am not my own. I am bought with a price (1 Corinthians 6:19,20). And as I returned salute after salute, I realized it was time for me, once again, to snap to attention and renew my own passion, holy respect and awe for my Owner. It was time to recommit myself to honor Him each day with the work of my hands, the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart.
rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net
But when I looked up, he was still there -- frozen at attention, and I realized he was waiting for me to return the salute.
He was not the only recruit at Great Lakes Recruit Training Command to go out of his way to salute me. Everywhere I went -- the food court, the barracks, the Shopette -- young men and women nearly fell over themselves to render the military courtesy.
Over the next two days, as I watched groups of novice sailors march to a cadence-call, double-time to chow or stroll with their families visiting for graduation, I realized how different things are in the "real" navy. I knew from experience that some of those salute-happy recruits would -- in only a few short months -- become careless about what they learned in boot camp. Instead of snapping a salute, they will cross the street to avoid rendering the courtesy. Instead of standing to their feet when an officer enters the room, they will avert their eyes and pretend no one is there.
As I silently (and a little pompously) lamented how some of those young men and women would lose their zeal for military discipline, my mind took an unexpected turn.
As new Christians, when we first meet the King of kings and Commander of commanders, many of us nearly fall over ourselves trying to honor Him and render the respect He is due. We are careful to stifle old habits of using His Name flippantly. We are attentive to our choice of clothing and entertainment. We force ourselves to be honest in our relationships with others. We devour the Scriptures in daily study.
Then, somehow, "real" life takes its toll and some of us grow careless. The awesome becomes trite, the magnificent trivial. Our sense of holy respect dulls to casual regard. When once we were embarrassed at the thought of personal sin, now some of us invent a dozen excuses for our behavior. When once we were quick to listen for His voice, now we find it deceptively easy to cross the street and pretend He is not there.
Such carelessness before the Almighty knows no particular era. I am reminded of the Lord's lament through the Old Testament prophet, "An ox knows its owner, and a donkey its master's manger . . . .but my people do not understand" (Isaiah 1:3).
As I observed the new recruits, I wondered how much I understand.
The passion of those young sailors for military courtesy reminded me of something I periodically forget: I am not my own. I am bought with a price (1 Corinthians 6:19,20). And as I returned salute after salute, I realized it was time for me, once again, to snap to attention and renew my own passion, holy respect and awe for my Owner. It was time to recommit myself to honor Him each day with the work of my hands, the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart.
rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net
posted by rich at
10:57 AM
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