Army pack marches with a stretcher as a metaphor for the Christian life

I will get back to Calvin when I can, but inthe meantime, this little metaphor cropped up in a conversation between Dad and I, and I thought it worth sharing. It is based on an incident when I was an officer cadet at Melbourne University Regiment.

So given that we are already saved and have passed the test, and that this world and all that belongs to it is fading away, why does God have us live out this charade of social life?
Dad and I came up with the metaphor of the tried and tested Army selection tool of the stretcher carry.

Assume you are an officer cadet, as I once was, trying to impress the instructors that you have what it takes to be an Army Officer.
You have been out in the field practicing attacks and patrols and ambushes all weekend with relatively little sleep and only army ration packs to live on, so you are already fairly exhausted. You have finished your last attack, and know that you really have finished because you have been ordered to oil up your rifles to make them easier to clean later. An army truck comes and picks you up to take you back to base camp.
As you bump along the dusty road, in the middle of nowhere, the truck comes to a squealing halt and an instructor comes round the back and lifts up the back flap,
“Unfortunately, gentlemen, your truck has just broken down. You will have to walk with your packs from here. It is 6km, and your bus leaves in 90 minutes.”
6km in 90 minutes is not too strenuous, even with a 30kg pack, so you all jump down and begin to put on your packs. As the last man gets down, the instructor points to him,
“You, down on the ground. Unfortunately, gentlemen, your friend here has just broken his leg. Fortunately for you there is a stretcher in the back of the truck. Better get moving.”
Assume also that if you do not complete the stretcher carry in time, or in the proper spirit, you will be removed from officer training.
And as you pick up the stretcher to move off, the truck starts up and rumbles past you towards base camp. So you carry the stretcher with a man on it, as well as your own pack and rifle, taking turns at each of the four corners of the stretcher to average out the strain on your failing grip, for kilometre after dusty kilometre.

But this is what the training is really all about – finding out if you have what it takes to be an Army officer. The fact that there was nothing wrong with the truck, or the man on the stretcher is entirely irrelevant. The relevant question is – can you perform your role satisfactorily under pressure?

And in many ways this life is like that. This world and all it contains is fleeting, and passing away. Yet God still expects us to go to work, own cars, dress appropriately, love our neighbours. But we already know we have passed the test and are destined for heaven. Why the pretence of normality?
Imagine you are back on that pack march with the stretcher and on one of your rest rotations, where all you have to carry is your own pack and rifle, and instructor pulls you aside. He whispers,
“Soldier, me and the other instructors have already decided that you have impressed us enough over the weekend. So you can relax, I know you were worrying about it, but you have already passed. But we would like you to carry on with the march for the sake of the other officer cadets. We haven’t made up our mind about quite a few of them yet, but I think a bit of encouragement from you might help them through. Can you do it?”
Well, what is your answer?
You have passed the test. There is a land rover trailing along behind to pick you up if you want. There is nothing wrong with the man on the stretcher, and your arms, back and legs all really hurt.
But if you stay, and encourage and help the others, some of them who might not otherwise make it might. And by staying with your team, for the sake of your team, you are infact displaying exactly the officer qualities that got you passed in the first place.
God expects us to carry our load and take our place in society, not because this society matters, but because the people in it matter, and most of them are like helpless, clueless sheep without a shepherd.

Here endeth the lesson.