Meanwhile, back at Ft. Church ...

7:40 AM

Sometimes the places of worship we’re familiar with can be described as Fort Church.

It’s an outpost with sharp walls and sentries, occupied by believers huddled inside who see themselves as surrounded on four sides. Lookouts guard the front gate, scanning for any sign of enemy activity outside the fort’s walls.

Ft. Church is always fearful of a surprise attack, always concerned with infiltration from the outside, desperately short of supplies, ammunition and hope … badly frightened of being outmaneuvered, outnumbered and overrun. In the face of such overwhelming odds, it’s no surprise Ft. Church’s combat backbone is comprised of secret passwords, coded texts, uniforms, strict rules and procedures.

So they can tell who's allowed inside the fort, and who isn't.

Because they see themselves as pitifully outmanned, under-supplied and under-gunned deep inside enemy country, the soldiers at Ft. Church must choose their skirmishes very carefully. As a result, they’ve rendered themselves totally useless for offensive combat operations.

The garrison at Ft. Church is just holding on, day after day and month after month, waiting to be rescued by the cavalry … not realizing they’ve made themselves prisoners by staying locked behind Ft. Church’s walls.

Oh yeah. At Ft. Church they don’t mind shooting their own wounded.

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I’m a member of a church that’s more likely to see itself as teams of Navy SEALS and Special Forces paratroopers, armed with the most powerful weapons available, looking forward to offensive combat and engaging the enemy behind his own lines.

Instead of sitting back waiting to be rescued by the cavalry, our teams realize our strength comes from Cavalry … and not from uniforms, rules, secret passwords, nor man-made barriers or walls.