It is the Lord of Hosts, the Lord of Armies, who trained his hands for war, the great warrior-poet, King David, sang in Psalm 18:34, the same Lord who makes war today. Independence Day brings to mind the American ensign, the Star-Spangled Banner, our American flag. A symbol of freedom and patriotism, our national standard is an ancient custom, and one our Jewish forefathers participated in, surprisingly, at the command of our Lord of Armies.
A picture of perfect design and order in what seemed like chaotic wandering in the wilderness, God placed each Israelite tribe in a specific position around the Old Testament tabernacle (Num. 2). The camp was divided quadrilaterally, four sets of three tribes at each compass point and one standard for each. The four sets of triads camped facing the tabernacle, within which the Presence of the Lord rested on the ark. Because one’s identity was derived from his tribe and also his position in relation to the tabernacle, such organization lent a peace and anticipation to the Israelites relationship to the living God who dwelt there.
The standard, or banner, was used in much the same way our American flag is today. The standard was a symbol, usually a carving or likeness of an animal, carried on a pole and raised high in the air, to rally a tribe or group of warriors in battle (Num. 2:10; Is. 59:19). A crossbar was attached below the standard on which hung the banner, a flag or streamer, and together, they served to indicate the line of march and rallying point for military, national, or religious purposes. Usually set on a hill for best visibility, the standard was also accompanied by the sounds of a trumpet, a Scriptural symbol of the word of God. It was the priests’ responsibility to sound the alarm of attack and/or the call to arms, to remind Israel that it was only by God’s presence and activity that they could hope to gain victory.
Before beginning a military engagement, the priests also offered sacrificial rites (1Sa 7:8-10; 1Sa 13:9), so that to “prepare” for war was make sacrifices that would sanctify it. Isaiah speaks of God gathering His armies and summoning to battle His “consecrated ones” (Isa 13:3), those warriors set apart through sacrifice before the battle actually commenced, under the Lord Himself: “Then the Lord will be seen over them [as a standard], and His arrow will go forth like lightning. The Lord God will blow the trumpet, and go with whirlwinds from the south. The Lord of hosts will defend them . . . The Lord their God will save them in that day as the flock of His people. For they shall be like the jewels of a crown, lifted like a banner over His land” (Zech. 9:14-16).
Similarly, Moses once lifted up a serpent on a standard to heal the people of a widespread viper infestation that was killing them. God commanded that the death-dealing instrument would be the same used to heal (Num. 21). In one military campaign, Moses became a living standard by lifting up and spreading his hands over his warring army below, personally symbolizing God’s presence as the Lord of Hosts (1 Sam. 1:3), or “armies,” leading His people to victory. After the battle Moses built an altar and named it Jehovah-Nissi, meaning The Lord is My Banner.
These Scriptural precedents make the standard beautiful for the Church, for similarly, Jesus became our living Standard, spreading out his bleeding arms on the angry crossbars of a wondrous cross, hanging from it as a banner and lifted up on a hill of terror for all to see. The Word of God, a trumpet ringing out across the seas of men and history, calls the Church Militant to glorious battle. This same Word is a rampart from enemy fire, a shield and rear guard for those taking up arms, a citadel for the fearful, a bulwark for the weak. With bowed heads and knees planted firmly on the ground, we hearken to His call and model, offering the sacrifices of our very selves for war: “We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies. For while we live we are always being given up to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus may be manifested in our mortal flesh” (2 Cor. 4:9-11). The death-dealing cross is the same used to heal.
Fight on, comrade! I am beside you! Our standard is raised on every crucifix in procession and behind a Catholic altar. Though the battle is fierce, keep your eyes on the glorious rallying point, for “His banner over me is love,” says the Song of Solomon (2:4), and it is to this war we are called, the war of Love, a love so vast and prolonged that it transcends time, death, and eternity, till the soul presses deeply, maddeningly, forever toward Him. The Lord Our Banner of love yet waves for the Promised Land of the truly free, calling us to the Beatific Home of the truly brave.
