Back in 2003, Rolling Stone magazine (issues 925 and 926, July 2003) featured an article entitled “The Killer Elite”. The author of the article, a reporter by the name of Evan Wright, had spent two months in 2003 traveling with a Marine reconnaissance battalion in Iraq. This particular battalion, populated by young, courageous, and well-trained soldiers, was at the forefront of the charge toward Baghdad.
In the article, the author spends some time addressing the role of the military chaplain who was a part of the battalion. The chaplain believed that it was his primary responsibility to help the soldiers to cope spiritually and emotionally with the almost incomprehensible horrors of combat. On Easter Sunday of 2003, that chaplain held a worship service in a barren field in Iraq. About fifty Marines were in attendance. One Marine, new to faith, chose to be baptized at that worship service. When the chaplain poured the baptismal water over the soldier’s head, the rest of the Marines applauded. The chaplain believed that the baptism boosted the collective morale of the battalion and served as powerful evidence that the Holy Spirit was moving even across the sands of Iraq.
Later that day, however, when Sgt. Brad Colbert, the team leader and one of the most respected Marines in the battalion, heard about the baptism, he became angry. In fact, the article maintains that, when Colbert heard about the baptism, he could not conceal his outrage: “Give me a break,” Colbert exclaimed. “Marines getting baptized? This used to be a place of men with pure warrior spirit. Chaplains are a goddamn waste.”
Jesus, I suppose, will always be looked upon as a dangerous threat by all those who are more invested in the kingdoms of this world than they are in the kingdom of God. Think about it. King Herod saw Jesus as a threat to his throne 2,000 years ago. Current-day soldiers occasionally see Jesus as a threat to the “pure warrior spirit.” Perhaps such conflict is inevitable. Jesus, after all, came to inaugurate a new kingdom, and new kingdoms, it seems, are never established without considerable resistance.
As the presidential race goes into high gear, I find it particularly urgent to remind myself of which kingdom it is in which I have my primary citizenship. It is a kingdom that is governed, but not by Republicans or Democrats. It is a kingdom that is protected, but not by Marines. It is a kingdom in which a single baptism is more threatening and unsettling than an M-16 rifle.