In the mid-20th century, composer Meredith Willson created a song for The Salvation Army. Willson, who composed well-loved music such as “It’s Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas,” “Seventy-Six Trombones” and the hit Broadway musical, “The Music Man,” also had a soft spot in his heart for the work and ministry of The Salvation Army. In 1963, he appeared on the game show “I’ve Got A Secret” and revealed that as a boy, he played the bass drum for a Salvation Army band in his hometown of Mason City, Iowa.

Meredith Willson’s song, “Banners and Bonnets,” asks the question: “Could you love the unloved, never reckoning the cost, giving them comfort and care? Could you love the unloved, in the legion of the lost, sharing their grief and despair?”

As the story goes, Willson wrote this song after hearing a Salvation Army band play as they marched down the streets of New York City. Willson penned the lyrics, echoing the language found in a Salvation Army officer’s covenant: “To love him supremely all my days, to live to win souls and make their salvation the first purpose of my life, to care for the poor, feed the hungry, clothe the naked, love the unloved, and befriend those who have no friends … ” 

The Salvation Army soldier shares in this mission, agreeing with their covenant to “be faithful to the purposes for which God raised The Salvation Army, sharing the Good News of Jesus Christ, endeavoring to win others to him, and in his name caring for the needy and disadvantaged.” 

I’ve often shared my belief that our circles of inclusion should always be expanding, meaning we should never allow anyone to feel as though they’re on the fringes of our fellowships, or like they are an outsider in our gatherings. History shows that The Salvation Army was established to include those on the edges of society and befriend those who were ostracized by others.

Caring for and seeking out the forgotten is wired into our DNA. Throughout His earthly ministry, Jesus was known to spend time with and pay attention to those society would have rather forgotten: by healing a man with leprosy; traveling through Samaria and engaging in conversation with a woman who had been married five times; healing a Roman centurion’s servant; taking time to defend an adulterous woman; and choosing lowly fishermen as His students and disciples. When the religious leaders of the day complained, His response was circle expanding: “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance” (Luke 5:31-32 NIV). 

In 1910, William Booth sent a Christmas telegram to officers of The Salvation Army as an encouragement and to remind them of what was to be their focus. The telegram simply read: “OTHERS.” It is such a simple word, but also rich in meaning. We are not meant to be a self-serving people or movement; we are to be others-focused.

The beauty of our congregations should be reflected in the faces of those who sit around our potluck tables. Those who seemingly have it all together are seated alongside those who are still trying to figure it all out. Our longstanding congregations that are thriving once began as small bands of people who expanded their circles to include people on the margins of life, those who needed a friend and a lifeline. Multi-generational Salvationists can trace their roots to someone welcomed into a fellowship of believers who followed Jesus’ example to seek and save the lost.

Our newer, fledgling congregations needn’t be discouraged by small numbers or slow growth, so long as the mission of circle expansion is ongoing. Poet James W. Foley  writes in this vein using the ripple effect on water:

Drop a pebble in the water: 

just a splash and it is gone;

But there’s half-a-hundred ripples 

circling on and on and on,

Spreading, spreading from the center, 

flowing on out to the sea.

And there’s no way of telling where 

the end is going to be.

Drop a word of cheer and kindness: 

in a minute you’ll forget;

But there’s gladness still a-swelling, 

and there’s joy a-circling yet,

And you’ve rolled a wave of comfort 

whose sweet music can be heard

Over miles and miles of water just by 

dropping one kind word.

There are several other verses to Foley’s poem, but the gist of it expresses the impact one word or action can have on an individual’s future—for good or ill. When we expand our circle of inclusion personally, not only will our lives be enriched by the fellowship and friendship with others, but the one to whom the circle is opened will be forever impacted by our expressions of kindness. Likewise, when we close our circles and lock the doors of fellowship, we exclude those looking for love and compassion who have exhausted the healthy and safe options available to them.

Our world will be a better place if we take the time to expand our circles of inclusion a little more—welcoming those who have been abandoned; offering compassion to those whose lives have been riddled by strife; and extending a hand of friendship to those who have only experienced fists of hatred. We may not be marching down the streets with banners and bonnets anymore. Still our creed remains the same: to love the unloved in the spirit of the Lord, expanding our circles of inclusion so that people from all walks of life might gain an opportunity to hear something like what Paul expresses in 1 Corinthians 9:22: “I have become all things to all people so that by all possible means I might save some” (NCV).

This article was originally titled “Expand Your Circles” in the September 2024 issue of The War Cry.