Badges

Few things inspire and spur me on more than the powerful personal stories of those who have gone before and lived the “faithful life”. Roy Hession’s autobiography My Calvary Road is one of those stories—a story of a man’s spiritual pilgrimage with God. It was Roy’s hunger for the Holy Spirit that challenged me the most. Roy remembers his days as a new believer being marked with an insatiable appetite for God’s kingdom to come to earth. Roy found fellowship in his hunger with a group of late teens and twenty-something’s in northwest London who called themselves the “Crusaders.” Most of the Crusaders were young professionals—working in offices and ‘provoking one another on towards love and good deeds’ as they moved together in their spiritual development. Of his “Crusader years”, Roy recalls:

As I began work in a London bank, the little Crusader badge I wore in the lapel of my jacket was especially precious to me. Although the world did not know what the badge meant, I knew, and God knew. It meant that I was marked out by Jesus to be separated from the word, part of a special people unto Himself. Separation from the world was no hardship to me—it was the cause of a secret joy, to be no more of the world, even as He was not of the world. Crusader badges proliferated in the city of London as young people came from the surrounding suburbs to work there, and we all recognized one another, and knew we were all in possession of the same secret joy. Lunch hours in city restaurants were often times of joyous Christian fellowship.

What a profound movement—what a special little marking—a badge to represent a new identity found in Christ, a reason for “secret joy”. What if we similarly recognized others around us who possessed that same “secret joy”?

In India, though badges aren’t externally worn on the lapels of jackets, it seems that believers recognize—and seek one another out—with ease. I was shocked when I walked through the local fruit market last month with Stella, the warden of the orphanage here on campus. I remember a man dressed in white, pushing a cart piled high with balanced pyramids of guavas, oranges and apples who stopped to greet Stella with all the warmth of an old friend. “Praise the Lord!” he said exuberantly. She echoed the same greeting, smiling with a certain grace in her eyes. “Who was he?” I asked, only to find out he was a perfect stranger. There must have been something familiar in Stella’s countenance—the redolence of Jesus’ love constantly carried with her—that was recognizable to another believer, even while walking the crowded streets.

Encounters like Stella’s seem to happen frequently here. The exact reason why is beyond me, but perhaps it has something to with the way Indian believers prize their “secret joy”—a gift so undeniably precious to them. They realize what a privilege and honor it is to serve the Living God and be identified with Him—and they live out their faith by wearing it like a garment, despite posed threats or potential opposition. Daily they bathe and clothe themselves in the Holy Spirit. Praying without ceasing, they seem to saturate every livable moment in this realm of “secret joy”—proud to be separate from the world they live in. With such commitment and faithfulness, the result of their “secret joy” is that it’s hardly a secret at all.

I can’t help but wonder how our nation would be different if we took more seriously our privilege and right to be called children of God—possessors and bearers of His name. Our access to the “secret joy” is nothing to be overlooked, nothing to be wasted—but something to revel in along with those who similarly share it. How would our unity, our fellowship, and our brotherly love change and heighten if we lived with the badges of marked separation from the world “pinned to the lapels of our jackets” every day? How much further would the gates of increased ministry in the everyday be swung widely open if we wore our badges of “secret joy” by clothing ourselves daily with tenderhearted mercy, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience? (Col. 3:12) The problem is not that we don’t have access to the “badges of secret joy”—it’s that we keep them conveniently locked up in drawers that we refuse to open as willingly and readily as Jesus Christ and Calvary’s cross have given us the freedom to do.

“For you died to this life, and your real life is hidden with Christ in God…put on your new nature, and be renewed as you learn to know your creator and become like Him.”
-Colossians 3:3, 10

"By this all men will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another."
-John 13:35