Seven Statements

      How many different statements did Jesus speak as He hung crucified on the cross?

       The answer is seven. Christ made seven statements.

       To be candid, it is physiologically extraordinary that Jesus spoke at all from the cross. Consider that any word spoken by a crucified victim would need to come about through excruciating pain—literal ‘excruciation,’ a word that derives from the Latin excruciāre, which means “from torture (of the cross).” Medical experts have analyzed everything we know of modern medicine to conclude that victims of crucifixion likely died from asphyxiation and cardiac arrest. You see, as Roman Soldiers hoisted the cross into a vertical position, Jesus flexed His knees at a 45 degree angle to bear His full bodyweight. This was done after a Soldier nailed His hands to the patibulum (the cross bar of the cross) and another Soldier nailed His feet to a smaller crossbar near the base of the Crux (the vertical pole). Once in the vertical position, His strength quickly gave out and He sunk downward, increasing the force of torque on His arm and shoulder joints. Eventually, His arms and shoulders dislocated. Pain shot throughout His body and waves of cramps throbbed in His muscles. His bodyweight transferred to the chest and He arched His back to elevate the rib cage in a position of perpetual inhalation. To exhale, He had to push down on His feet with agonizing effort. We learn from the four Gospels that Christ endured this process from nine in the morning until three o’clock in the afternoon. Dehydrated and fatigued, He became less and less able to bear His full weight, which caused Him to further arch His back and to further raise His chest wall to make breathing more difficult. As a result, blood oxygen level dropped, His heart stimulated and His blood pressure fatally increased.

       With a strained heart, collapsed lungs, and an asphyxiated, dehydrated body, Christ could barely retain oxygen between quick, hyperventilated gasps, which made speech nearly impossible as He neared His death. There is a good medical case to be made that supports a conclusion that the seven statements recorded in the four Gospels may have very well been the only seven statements Christ managed to speak in six hours of this excruciating torture.

       Now then, with this in mind one should ponder the meaning of Christ’s final words, realizing the Holy Spirit intended that we should learn of not just their importance, but of how they are chronologically ordered. Here is what most will agree to concerning Christ’s crucifixion: it is the seminal moment leading to the culmination of God’s divine plan for salvation by raising Christ from the dead. I must add that Jesus’ final seven statements portray the reversal of the fall of Man along seven key ideas: forgiveness, grace, obedience, companionship, willpower, fulfillment, and reunion. What is more is that these ideas are not isolated incidents unto themselves to be viewed as marvelous examples of God’s perfect love for us; rather, His statements occur in a particular order and for a particular reason. 

       (1)  Forgiveness: While looking down at Roman soldiers casting lots for His seamless garment, Jesus said, "Father, forgive them for they do not know what they do." (Luke 23:34). Speaking to His heavenly Father, Christ asks for “their” forgiveness; but who are “they”? After sampling various articles on the subject, sermons, and blogs, it seems that most contemporary religious writers appear convinced that Jesus referred to His tormentors and persecutors; and why not? This makes perfect sense. He endured tremendous torture, yet we imagine (and with good reason) that the God of the universe would nevertheless extend His infinite love to even those who would kill His only begotten Son. However, I believe there is more depth to God’s forgiveness. After all, it was not only the Jews who delivered Christ to the cross; it was the whole of humanity. Christ died on the cross to right what wrong we committed at Eden. Jesus asked as much for the forgiveness of our ancestral parents as He did for those who tortured and crucified Him. From the cross, Jesus looked out at not only the sea of vitriolic hatred before Him, but He saw all past and future sins we commit against His father and begged for our forgiveness. The first order of preparation for divine mercy is to seek forgiveness. 

       (2) Sanctifying Grace: Jesus said to the penitent thief, "Today thou shall be with Me in Paradise." (Luke 23:43). Once again, it seems most contemporary religious writers appear consistent in their conclusion that this exchange between the penitent thief and Christ is an example of Christ’s sanctifying Grace on the cross. I agree, though I believe there is more to ponder. God’s sanctifying grace extended not just to the penitent thief on the cross that day, but it paves the way to redemption that dates as far back as the fall of Man. I believe God’s sanctifying grace is present at the fall. Accordingly, Jesus’ words on the cross represent the inception of God’s plan at the very moment He condemns Adam and Eve, if we can understand God’s plan in chronological terms. Christ’s resurrection fundamentally reversed the death sentence that God handed down to Adam and Eve at Eden. He is the way, the Truth, and the Life (John 14:6)), which is why God’s judgment at Eden (“Thou shalt surely die.” Gen 2:17) can only be reversed through Christ, the logos. Just as the penitent thief, our first parents are sentenced to death, but through Jesus, we are now assured we will be with Him in Paradise. The second order of preparation is preparing for God’s sanctifying grace to redeem us.

       (3)  Obedience: Looking down at His mother, Christ said, “Woman, behold thy son. To the disciple whom Jesus loved, He said, “Behold thy mother” (John 19: 26-27). On this point, I am astounded how many writers and religious thinkers consider this moment an example of Christ’s humanity. It is an attractive idea to imagine that the God of the universe would humble Himself to become a Man to endure the Cross as atonement for a sin we committed, but not before ensuring the long-term care and wellbeing of His earthly mother. I wonder are we not yet clear that Christ is not concerned with the comfort and care of this life, but of the next?

       And still, many imagine that Jesus presented Mary to the “Disciple whom Christ loves” for earthly reasons, a sensible supposition since the sentence concludes with the Disciple taking Mary into his own home. I argue a different case. At the fall of Man, God condemns the serpent for his evil deed: "I will put enmity between thee and the woman, between thy seed and her seed; he will crush your head, and you will strike his heel" (Gen. 3:15). The woman and her seed are both prophesized at the fall as being integral to God’s plan for salvation. With this in mind should we not find it odd that Jesus calls Mary “Woman?” More to the point, she is the new Eve, the woman through whom God delivers her seed, Christ, to crush the head of the Serpent. Through her courageous fiat, she obediently presents herself to be used by the Lord to fulfill His prophecy, in spite of how her soul would be pierced in the process (Luke 2:35). As Eve was disobedient to God’s will, Mary is obedient. And what is to be said of the obedience of the disciple beside Mary in this passage? John immediately takes Mary into his home. What better example of obedience is there on display in the Bible than what we find at the foot of the cross in these two Biblical figures?

       There is much speculation as to why John refers to himself as the “Disciple whom Christ loves,” but consider this: John means to relate his experiences as personal to the reader by presenting an anonymizing idiom that we can substitute for ourselves. There is a school of religious thought that views the Gospel of John as being more grounded in theological truths, whereas the Gnostic gospels tend to read along a more historical-factual basis.  Martin L. Smith, a member of the Society of St. John the Evangelist, writes that the author of John's gospel may have deliberately obscured the identity of the Beloved Disciple in order that readers of the gospel may better identify with the disciple's relationship with Jesus. He writes, “Perhaps the disciple is never named, never individualized, so that we can more easily accept that he bears witness to an intimacy that is meant for each one of us. The closeness that he enjoyed is a sign of the closeness that is mine and yours because we are in Christ and Christ is in us.”  Msgr. Charles Pope, pastor of Holy Comforter-St. Cyprian in Washington D.C., concludes that “John’s deeper purpose for not supplying the name of the beloved disciple is so that you will understand and experience in a very true sense that the beloved disciple is you. You are the disciple whom Jesus loves.” Jesus presents His mother to us to take into our homes immediately and obediently so that she may carry our burdens to Him in prayer.  

       Finally, imagine the solace Jesus experienced to see the beautiful face of His mother weeping at his feet as He endured the cross. “Woman, behold thy Son.” There is a case to be made—the better case, I argue—that Jesus confirmed for us in this sorrowful exchange Mary’s special role in the story of salvation. She is the new Eve whose seed crushes the head of the serpent. As Fr. Michael Gaitley , author and member of the Marians of the Immaculate of Conception, said: “Jesus knew that He asks all of us to take our cross daily and follow Him, even all the way to Calvary, and He wanted to make sure that we had no less a consolation than He Himself had during His time of trial. There as He was dying on the Cross, He surely took consolation in the love of His mother as she looked at Him with love, and was present for Him there. She was like a drop of consolation in the midst of an ocean of bitterness and Jesus wants the same for us.” There at Calvary, at the foot of the Cross, Jesus invited Mary to gaze upon her crucified Son and to bear a soul-piercing agony greater than any poor burden we may deliver to her through intercessory prayer. There at Calvary, at the foot of the Cross, Jesus invites us as the disciples whom He loves to obediently accept Mary into our homes, to understand her as His blessed Mother who prays for sinners now and at the hour of our death. The third order of preparation for God’s plan is obedience.

       (4) Companionship: In quoting the opening verse of the 22^nd Psalms of David, Jesus cries out, "My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?" (Matt 27: 46). Have we not all cried this Psalm at some point in our lives? This cry represents not only the fall of Man, but is the cry of an outcast Adam and Eve, their hearts yearning to return home. Consider the people of Israel as they cried out to God while enslaved in Egypt. Remember the Israelites cry as they wandered in the wilderness. Remember in more recent times how the Saints in heaven who once lived their lives on earth spoke of the “Dark Night of the Soul.” St. John of the Cross wrote of the “Dark Night of the Soul,” explaining how the initial exhilaration of conversion is followed by a "dark night of the senses" that is "bitter and terrible to taste."  What follows is "the soul feels itself to be perishing and melting away, in the presence and sight of its miseries, in a cruel spiritual death, even as if it had been swallowed by a beast and felt itself being devoured."  The “darkness” of Dark Night comes in part because the soul is blinded by the bright light of wisdom. As it adjusts to the light, it gradually sees past sins and present inabilities. Overall, says St. John, the soul feels as if it is “being undone” and lost in interior darkness. The most disorienting part of the Dark Night is the painful loss of God. As Adam and Eve departs from the light of Eden into the “Dark night of the Soul,” we are reminded by Christ on the cross of how dark the road is that we must travel to return to light. However, Christ left us an organism called his Church; we are all individual cells of His mystical body. This is not a journey we must take alone, although it will seem so at times. It is through companionship and constant intercessory prayer for one another that we may someday see God. Understanding our friends in the communion of Saints as our companions on the journey through darkness to reach the light is the fourth step.

       To this point, we have explored four ideas in the first four of Jesus’ final seven statements, ideas which offset the effects of what took place at the fall. Forgiveness for the original sin (“Father, forgive them…”), sanctifying grace that extends from the first man and first woman to the last day before Judgment (“…this day you will be with me in paradise.”), a reissuance of God’s order to be obedient (“…behold they son,” “…behold thy mother.”), and a community of companions and friends to help guide us through the darkness to the light (“…why have you forsaken me?”). As Christ nears death, it is likely His last three statements were made between agonizing gasps of breath.

       (5) Willpower: Nearing death, he cries out, “I thirst.” (John 19:28). Physiologically speaking, it makes perfect sense that Jesus would thirst. He is beaten, broken, and dangerously dehydrated. However, He is not referring to an earthly drink of water. Jesus taught us as He informs the Samaritan woman that “Everyone who drinks of [earthly] water will thirst again; but whoever drinks of the water that I will give him shall never thirst; but the water that I will give him will become in him a well of water springing up to eternal life." In His cry, “I thirst,” we are reminded of Isaiah 58:11, “The Lord will guide you always; he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame. You will be like a well watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail.” In the physical sense, the moment one becomes conscious of his or her thirst, their bodies are already dehydrated. In the spiritual sense, our souls are neglected and yearn for replenishment, but there is no form of material drink that can satisfy the soul.

       Fr. Robert Barron cites Thomas Aquinas to help us understand why:

  “The human spirit is structured in such a way that it pushes beyond itself toward the good, the true, and the beautiful. The mind seeks the truth, and it finds it, to some degree, in this world, but it's never enough, because the mind seeks absolute truth. The will seeks the good, and it finds it, to some degree, within this world, but it's never enough finally to satisfy the will. The soul seeks the beautiful, and, to a limited degree, it finds it, it achieves it in this world, but it's ordered toward the beautiful itself. There's a kind of holy longing in us. There's an aching, a restlessness that pushes us beyond anything in this world toward a transcendent truth, a transcendent goodness, a transcendent beauty. This is why, as C.S. Lewis so clearly saw, the most exquisite experiences in life—aesthetic pleasure, sexual intimacy, deep friendship—are always accompanied by a certain aching sadness, a sense that there must still be something more.”

       The search for “something more” is the thirst Christ referred us to as He hung from the cross. To be conscious of our spiritual thirst is to form the impetuous, the willpower, to align our priorities finally with God’s will. It is what the people of Israel struggled with for so long as they wandered in the desert following their freedom from Egypt. Jesus reminds us that since the fall of man, we have been wandering in darkness in search of light, longing to drink from the well of eternal life. Thirst arrive us at a brink of desperation in where we form the impetuous to quench the thirst. Only at this point can we finally form the willpower to properly align with the will of God. Exercising willpower is the fifth order of preparation.

       (6) Fulfillment: “It is finished.” (John 19: 30) Every monotheistic religion faces a serious intellectual obstacle in justifying evil in a world created by an omnipotent, benevolent Being. If God is an all powerful loving Being, then why does He allow evil to exist? Why does He allow for good people to die and for bad people reign? Christianity is the one religion that provides solace on the problem of evil. No other monotheistic religion knows of a personal God who condescends to take the form of, and in turn be killed by His creation. This is exactly what Christianity offers; the problem of evil is solved by Jesus Christ. Sin freely entered into the world and by freewill, sin is defeated. St. Augustine in the fourth century said, “"God judged it better to bring good out of evil than to suffer no evil to exist." God judged it better to bring good out of evil than to suffer no evil to exist." Jesus’ fulfillment of prophecy (Gen 3: 15) by declaring “It is finished” is the seminal moment that leads to the culmination of God’s divine plan by raising Christ from the dead. St. Paul summarizes this Christian victory over the death sentence issued to Adam in Gen 3:19 when he wrote:

“…that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, and that He was buried, and that He was raised on the third day according to the Scriptures, and that He appeared to Cephas, then to the twelve. After that He appeared to more than five hundred brethren at one time, most of whom remain until now, but some have fallen asleep; then He appeared to James, then to all the apostles; and last of all, as to one untimely born, He appeared to me also.” (1 Corinthians 15: 3-11)

      Christianity is not a moral philosophy. It is based on a particular man born in a particular time and witnessed by particular people. “O death, where is your victory? Oh Death, where is your sting?” The Christian victory over evil is through the Resurrected Christ. St. Paul postulates what it would mean if Christ was not raised from the dead. He writes:

 “…if there is no resurrection of the dead, not even Christ has been raised; and if Christ has not been raised, then our preaching is vain, your faith also is vain. Moreover we are even found to be false witnesses of God, because we testified against God that He raised Christ, whom He did not raise, if in fact the dead are not raised. For if the dead are not raised, not even Christ has been raised; and if Christ has not been raised, your faith is worthless; you are still in your sins. Then those also who have fallen asleep in Christ have perished. If we have hoped in Christ in this life only, we are of all men most to be pitied.” (1 Corinthians 15: 13-19)

      “But,” Paul writes, “Christ has been raised from the dead…For since by a man came death, by a man also came the resurrection of the dead. For as in Adam all die, so also in Christ all will be made alive.” Christ crying out between gasps of air, “It is finished,” calls to mind the fateful Fall in the Garden where God’s plan “is started.” We thirst until we reach such a time in where we are satisfied and fulfilled; this is the sixth order of preparation.

      Christ spoke seven statements on the cross. Upon the completion of his seventh and final statement, he passed. "Father, into Your hands I commit My spirit." (Luke 23:46) We must all pass through death to reunite with God in eternal life. Reunion is the final step. Notice how Jesus’ final statements encapsulate the whole story of the fall and of God’s plan for salvation. We see forgiveness for original sin, a sanctifying grace to redeem fallen Man, a reissuance of God’s order to obey as counterbalance to Eve’s disobedience, a community of companions present to accompany forsaken Man cast out of Eden, willpower to quench thirst as we wander in the darkness, a prophecy fulfilling a way back home, and finally, reunion with God.

      Seven spoken words by Christ on the cross, a number that evokes perfection and the completion of the Genesis seven day cycle of creation. God spoke the cosmos into existence in seven days and He judged His creation perfect. Sin freely entered the world and disrupted God’s perfect creation. His word became flesh (John 1:1) and on the cross, Christ’s final seven words are the key to restoring God’s perfect kingdom. Just as His Father spoke all things into existence and rested on the seventh and final day, Jesus rests upon the conclusion of His seventh and final statement on the cross, for in doing so, He arrived at the culminating moment—His resurrection. The very next statement that we hear from the resurrected Christ, His eighth statement to keep with chronological order, is spoken by an eternally living God. After all, eight represents infinity because it stands outside of seven, or the completion of the cycle of time.

The Existence of God

A thought: An argument against the existence of God—all evidence and reason included—amounts to no less than the moral question, “Can God and evil coexist?” 

You will hopefully see that this is not a case against God’s existence—an existence that is logically irrefutable even without the Bible—but rather a question of whether you can love (and worship) a God that allows evil to not only exist, but to seemingly inflict upon humanity so senselessly and dramatically. 

By the way, I did say His existence is irrefutable. 

To demonstrate how, let us look to reason and logic—namely philosophy—since Mankind possesses intellect to deduce and reason. To be clear, philosophy (the “love of Wisdom”) relies on logic and reason; theology (the study of God) relies on divine revelation. One can arrive at God purely along reasonable means, but, without theology, the same cannot arrive unassisted at the truths of God 'essentia,' or essence. Thomas Aquinas said, “Philosophy is the handmaiden of theology,” which means the power of reason and the truths known by reason enable and assist in the study of theology. 

Ok, let’s suppose that we have managed to possess 10% of all knowledge that is intelligible about the universe—meaning that of all there is to know about the universe, we are certain of only a tenth. If you want, we can stretch this scenario liberally to grant that we know 99% of all knowledge claims, impossible though it may seem (the universe is a big place). Nonetheless, it stands to reason that there very well could be some fact about the universe, whether in the 90% or in the 1%—depending on which case you argue—that humankind has yet to discern as truth that could contradict what we claim to know. (Note: I will cede to the one who argues “we know 99%” that the probability of a fact remaining in the 1% which would contradict the other 99% drastically diminishes; but, to quote Jim Carrey’s character, Lloyd Christmas, from the movie ‘Dumb and Dumber’, “so you’re telling me there’s a chance.”) Put simply, if one does not know what he or she does not know, whether in the 90% or 1% to the scale of the universe, then how exactly can one be certain (and I mean absolutely certain) of anything at all? The answer is he cannot know; the only way he could know anything for certain is if he knew everything. Therefore logic follows that no one can know anything with absolute certainty at all.

 But we do posses scientific, empirical knowledge such that we detect through five senses subject to all the natural rules it detects, an inescapable and viciously circular argument without a First Cause to set the cycle into motion.  People all throughout the ages understand this First Cause as God. 

When I say “people through the ages,” I do not mean exclusively Christians. I refer to people of all creeds, nationalities, philosophies, and backgrounds. God is irrefutable because without Him, one could not refute; God ‘is’ existence, and from Him, all things came into being.

Does this mean God created evil as well? How could an all powerful, loving, peaceful Being allow for such horrendous evil to inhabit the world? Why does He not just stomp it out of existence? 

If you cannot answer these questions convincingly and you consider yourself Christian, I’d advise that you read the early Church writings from around the first century through the fifth—the church endured tremendous persecution during that period and much of the early documents dealt specifically on this subject (after all they needed to answer the question for themselves).  If you are not Christian, but you claim a monotheistic faith, I am curious how it is that you answer this question. I am regrettably ignorant on how this topic is approached by most other non-Christian faiths.  And if you altogether reject God’s existence on this ground (or perhaps another), I invite your feedback.

Oh, and please include two things in your answer: (1) an understanding of evidence that “Bad things happen” is not proof there is no God; it may be included in support against a claim that “God is good,” (for the record, I believe God is good) but it does not prove there being no God; and (2) if you feel that you have soundly disproven God’s existence, then with whom or with what do you replace Him, for there must be a “First Cause” (ref: my example above)?

No, Marcus. They Did Not Die in Vain

On Friday, Christina and I watched “Lone Survivor,” also a best-selling memoir based on the harrowing experience of the eponymous lone navy seal who survived the ill-fated Operation Red Wings—a 2005 military operation that cost the lives of 19 members of the U.S. Military’s Special Operations community. The movie was emotionally jarring and exceptionally well done. It also, however, sparked a much needed conversation about the responsibility inherited by the living to carry on with the Just Cause of the fallen.

The question on the table is this: did the men of Operation Red Wings die in vain?

In the wake of the movie’s release, there was much fervor over a January 12th exchange between the true Lone Survivor, Marcus Lutrell, and CNN’s Chief Washington Correspondent Jake Tapper. Tapper implied the senselessness in how the men “up on that mountain” died in vain, seeing how the Afghanistan war lacks national conviction and strategic direction, and, perhaps most damning, has lost public support. By this time in the interview, a quite offended and visibly angry Navy Seal, Lutrell, responded while a helpless Mark Wahlberg looked on, "We spend our whole lives training to defend this country, and then we were sent over there by this country, and you're telling me because we were over there doing what we were told by our country that it was senseless and my guys died for nothing?"

In a larger sense, the true question is: can the sacrifices of our brave men and women in Uniform—sacrifices which include, as President Lincoln once noted, the full and costliest measure of sacrifice “laid upon the altar of freedom,” one’s life—ever be made in vain if our nation loses sight of the meaning and purpose of the sacrifice?

In a well circulated Foreign Policy article, author and journalist Jim Gourley succinctly answered Mr. Lutrell’s question in just the title of his piece, “Yes Marcus. They Did Die in Vain;” He continues to eloquently state in though painful terms the reason he believes this to be true. His article, though well written and reasonably balanced, also misses the mark.

Are we really so pretentious, so narcissistic a society as to suggest that by our action—or inaction—we possess the power to add or detract from the honor of a sacrifice that is made in the spirit of something larger than ourselves? As Lincoln famously stated on the occasion to dedicate a plot of land as a national ceremony in honor of Gettysburg’s fallen: “…we cannot dedicate—we cannot consecrate–we cannot hallow—this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it far above our poor power to add or detract.” He continues in a later portion of his address, “…from these honored dead we [should] take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion.” This might come as a surprise to many, but the sacrifices made by both the living and fallen are not about us—the people. And, when we fail to honor their sacrifice through word and deed, we can do little to dishonor them, but rather, to do much to dishonor ourselves. When we fail, as many suggest we may in Iraq and Afghanistan, it does little to shame the sacrifices of our service members, but rather, does greatly to shame ourselves.

As the American song writer Julie Ward Howe wrote in the Battle Hymn of the Republic, “As [Christ] died to make men holy, let us die to make men free;” You see, such a sacrifice is necessarily made in the same spirit of Christ's death on the cross. As is commonly stated, God is love, and, as it is remarked in the Gospels, no greater love can one possess than for him or her to lay down their life for another—as in the case of an ill-fated operation that cost our nation 19 brave sons who each loved their country in so complete a way as to fashion their final act as the fullest and costliest measure of devotion to duty.

How can a sacrifice made in the spirit of the greatest of virtues and fully enshrined with the eternal sovereignty of the Creator ever be made in vain? The answer: it cannot. It is rather for the living to increase in devotion in the spirit of love, the same of which our bravest men and women willingly paid the ultimate price; it is rather that our nation—the last best hope for peace in our world—should remain unwaveringly committed to a national will grounded in the transcendental value of love.

The Invaluables Have The Most Intrinsic Value

Originally appearing on Facebook on 2 September 2013

Aristotle introduced in his Nicomachean Ethics—and I am paraphrasing—that the best activities tend to be the most useless because they are merely a means to serve a greater ends. In other words, one who works to make money does so not because working, unto itself, is a worthy activity, but rather because earning money is important—not true in all cases, I admit, but sensible enough to serve as a basis. Yet, earning money, in and of itself, does not inherently possess its own value, but is rather used to obtain further goods or services, which in turn serves yet other ends. This ‘ends’ to serve as a ‘means’ relationship infinitely regresses until nothing has value, precisely because all things possess tangible value. In my example, the activity of working, sensible in function and necessary to wellbeing though it is, ultimately subordinates to a greater 'ends,' and therefore is inherently of lesser value than the 'ends' it serves.

There are certain 'ends' that serve no other 'means' than to fulfill its own good. The function of building a virtuous character, for instance, useless though it may seem in the tangible sense amidst a culture that places so a high a value on "better activities" (like earning money), is, in actuality, the most important activity we could endeavor to perfect.

One example of this comes from an encounter I had this summer with one of my Soldiers. I said, "You know, one of the least understood, and therefore the most neglected dimension of comprehensive Soldier fitness, is the spiritual dimension."

The battlefield promoted and newly minted Staff Sergeant, a year my junior, sat on a wooden bench beside me on a patio deck that he helped build early in the deployment.

"And when I say spiritual," I continued, careful not to tread into sensitive areas, "I do not mean 'religious'. I think that's the mistake Soldiers make when they hear that the Army wants Soldiers to be spiritually fit.' It sounds like the Army saying 'we want our Soldiers to be Christian,' or ''we want our Soldiers to be religious', or '... to go to church,' and that's not what the Army leadership is saying at all."

He said, "Well, I personally don't go to church—It's not my thing—and I'm not religious. When I talk to my Soldier, who is Wiccan, I have a hard explaining to him what the Army means by 'Spiritual fitness, so I ignore it...'"

"Exactly!" I said, a bit animated. He smiled at my excitement. I continued, "Exactly, that's my point. So, let’s break it down this way: you and I are here having a conversation. You respect me—at least I hope you do—either because I am your commander, or, let's say, it's because I took the time to come out here and have this conversation with you. And let's also say—for sake of argument, because I actually can't stand you (at that, he smiled and said, "Whatever Sir.”)—“but let's just say I have a good deal of respect for you, because I see something in you that is different, something that has value—which is the truth, by the way. So this mutual respect we have for one another creates a third element to our relationship, an esprit-de-corps that becomes an independent entity separate from you and I, but connected to us at the same time. It is, in fact, bigger than us both because we are in service to its existence. It takes us both to create it, so the spirit is bigger than we are each alone. But it cannot exist if we exist each alone. That is the spirit the Army talks about. It’s the common bond between Soldiers, the third entity that springs out from the camaraderie and respect we have for one another and for the Army organization itself."

He seemed intrigued by all of this, so I continued, "That's why when you hear a Soldier say that he or she is getting out because 'the Army doesn't care' about him or her, what the Soldier really means is, 'my team leader...,' or 'my squad leader...,' or 'my platoon sergeant or platoon leader doesn't care about me.' Sometimes I want to say, 'you're right Soldier! That Army you talk about, well, it's an inanimate, incompassionate organization comprised of rules and regulations, of norms, values, and ideals. The Army doesn't care about you because it isn't capable of caring, but your team leader, your squad leader, your platoon sergeant and leaders should care about you."

He smiled and said, "That’s what I always try to tell Soldiers also!"

"So you get it then," I said. "in the case of the Soldier who blames 'the Army' for 'not caring', the spirit of his or her unit, that larger entity he or she senses as 'not caring', the weakened esprit-de-corps of the Army, absorbs the blame for what is really a neglected spiritual relationship between a leader and his or her Soldier."

With that, I concluded, "Spiritual fitness begins with understanding we are in service to something bigger than ourselves. It is not subjecting your happiness or your wellbeing entirely to another thing, but rather one must understand there are bigger things in life. The purpose and sense of serving something bigger than you and I is what the Army would like to cultivate by strengthening spiritual fitness. This is how one becomes a servant-leader, which, in turn, is the basis for unlocking natural leadership."