Onward, Christian soldiers / Marching as to War
With the Cross of Jesus / Going on Before [1]
I.
If there is one 19th-century English hymn I truly detest, then 'Onward, Christian Soldiers' could be it.
I know defenders of the hymn will argue that the imagery is purely metaphorical and rooted in the language of the Bible; that believers are called on to fight a spiritual battle against Satan and to morally struggle against the temptation to do evil or commit sin - that it is not a call to physically take up arms.
But we know that's not how it's heard in practice by many Christians - anymore than the term jihad is interpreted in a purely benign manner by those Muslims keen to take up the sword. It's a song effectively promoting holy war, religious triumphalism, and imperialism [2]. I know it, you know it, and I suspect that William Booth knew it also when he selected this hymn as the battlecry of his Salvation Army [3].
What's more, I suspect that the manufacturers of Christian streetwear also know it ...
II.
Faith hoodies - like those modelled in the image above [4] - are, along with other forms of Christian streetwear, a predictable but deeply depressing reaction to increasing ethno-religious friction in the UK, serving as a defiant assertion of traditional British identity in the face of a rising Islamic presence.
I realise many of those wearing the clothes do so simply as followers of fashion; they like the blending of streetwear with spiritual messaging and find the bold gothic or minimalist style graphics visually appealing. They certainly don't regard themselves as neo-Crusaders.
I realise also that other young adults regard wearing faith hoodies as an authentic expression of personal belief and are sincerely devout in what they do without being militant or hateful. But then, on the other hand, I know that there are those happy to co-opt the Cross in order to fuel a rising tide of Christian nationalism, turning a fashion trend into a uniform suitable to wage cultural warfare.
The fact is, these garments sit at a complex intersection of fashion, consumerism, and socio-political gesturing, and in a highly polarised environment they have the potential to piss a lot of people off. Not just members of other faiths and communities, but also those Christians who are appalled by what they see as the cynical commodification of faith and holy scripture.
As for secularists and liberal humanists, they might smile on the sidelines, but I imagine they too are made more than a little nervous by overt displays of religious iconography in the public arena. They may, in principle, support religious freedom and the right of the individual to wear what they wish, but one suspects they know only too well where this is leading.
III.
And where is it leading?
Well, a future defined by sectarian division and civil war along ethno-religious lines is not likely to be a happy time or place, and I'm surprised that certain politicians in the West seem to be facilitating this via the state-sponsored promotion of mass migration on the one hand and multiculturalism (leading to hyperplurality) on the other.
Faced with such impending chaos and structural fragmentation, one is vaguely nostalgic for a time when young people found and expressed their identity through pop music and safety pins, not scripture ...
Notes
[1] Lyrics from 'Onward, Christian Soldiers' by Sabine Baring-Gould (1865). It was set to music by the composer Arthur Sullivan in 1871. Usually, I would provide a link to the song, but not in this case (I'll also resist the temptation to put something by Welsh anarcho-punks Icons of Filth here in its place).
[2] There is a long history of debate regarding the hymn 'Onward, Christian Soldiers' and whether or not it might lend itself to real world religious violence thanks to the martial language it employs. Even many churchgoers are troubled and have difficulty squaring it with the peaceful teachings of Jesus. Some Anglican hymn books use revised lyrics and replace the word 'Soldiers' in the title with 'Pilgrims'.
[3] William Booth was an English Methodist preacher who, along with his wife, Catherine, founded the Salvation Army in 1865 along quasi-military lines (appointing himself as its first General).
Booth may primarily have been concerned with spiritual and social welfare, rather than geopolitics and British imperialism, but he certainly wanted his organisation to become a global force and openly spoke of occupying territories with the ultimate aim of subjugating the entire world to the Word of God and the Love of Lord Jesus.
And so, while members of his Salvation Army didn't themselves carry weapons or volunteer to fight in overseas wars, they were happy to rely upon the infrastructure of the British Empire in order to expand their own power and spread the gospel as they understood it.
[4] The visual language of these garments shown here (even if the image is probably AI fakery like almost everything now found on Instagram) is revealing. The young man and woman look less like churchgoers and more like insurgents; their hooded tops pull up to obscure the lower half of the face, co-opting a tactical, urban aesthetic. Yet the details are explicitly sacred: zippers shaped as crosses, a crown of thorns wrapped around the sleeve, and a prominent reference to Psalm 27:1 ("The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear?").
