Military dog tags—two metal plates worn around a soldier’s neck. Name. Blood type. Religion. Essential information when you can’t speak for yourself. The hymn “Onward, Christian Soldiers” once stirred congregations to see themselves as God’s army, marching with purpose, united in mission. Written in 1834, it spoke to Christians who understood discipline, sacrifice, collective purpose. Today? We struggle with the military imagery. Too aggressive. Too confrontational. Too demanding. We prefer “followers” to “soldiers,” “community” to “army,” “journey” to “march.” But Paul didn’t soften his language for Timothy: “Join with me in suffering, like a good soldier of Christ Jesus.” Not a tourist. Not a spectator. A soldier. The difference matters. Tourists take pictures; soldiers take ground. Spectators watch battles; soldiers fight them. Civilians pursue comfort; soldiers pursue mission. “No one serving as a soldier gets entangled in civilian affairs.” The early church understood this. Hell’s foundations quivered at their praise. Satan’s hosts fled at their advance. They weren’t divided—all one body, one hope, one doctrine. They marched where saints had trod, knowing kingdoms rise and wane but Christ’s church remains. Today’s church? We can’t even agree on worship style, let alone march together. We’re entangled in civilian affairs—comfort, convenience, personal preference. We’ve traded our dog tags for name tags, our mission for meetings, our march for meander.