How we cite our quotes: (Scene, Line numbers)
Quote #7
MOTHER COURAGE:
Back when I was young, I was brought to realize
What a very special person I must be
(Not just any old cottager's daughter, what with my looks
and my talents and my urge towards Higher Things)
[…]
Then I heard a tit
Chirp: Wait a bit!
And you'll be marching with the band
In step, responding to command
And striking up your little dance:
Now we advance.
And now: parade, form square!
Then men swear God's there—
Not the faintest chance! (IV, 94-110)
This song is just like a window into Mother Courage's past. (See Mother Courage's "Character Analysis" for more.) It juxtaposes the arrival of war in her life with her loss of faith in "Higher Things," i.e., God. It allows us to think that Mother Courage might not have always been so cynical about religion, suggesting instead that the experience of war and the changes war brought to society made her give up all hope.
Quote #8
THE CHAPLAIN: […] One sermon of mine can put a regiment in such a frame of mind it'll treat the enemy like a flock of sheep. Life to them is a smelly old foot-cloth which they fling away in a vision of final victory. God has given me the gift of speech. I can preach so you'll lose all sense of sight and hearing.
MOTHER COURAGE: I don't want wish to lose my sense of sight and hearing. Where'd that leave me? (VI, 196-204)
Okay, so, on the surface, this is the exchange leading up to the chaplain's proposal that he and Mother Courage get it on with one another. But we're not quite there yet. Here, he's making a more general comment on his profession. When he says he can "preach so you'll lose all sense of sight and hearing," this suggests he sees religion as a kind of power, used to get soldiers to enter battle. Well, looks like his romantic talents are not so well-honed.
Quote #9
THE COOK: pulling off his boots and unwrapping his footcloths: Pity the war made such a godless s*** of you, else you'd easily get another parsonage now it's peacetime. Cooks won't be needed, there's nowt to cook, but faith goes on just the same, nowt changed in that direction.
THE CHAPLAIN: Mr. Lamb, I'm asking you not to elbow me out. Since I came down in the world I've become a better person. I couldn't preach to anyone now. (VIII, 171-178)
The exchange is like a grand finale in the chaplain's character development. He has gone from justifying the war in all its brutality to acknowledging that he's become a better person, and "couldn't preach to anyone now." This turnaround implies the chaplain's realization—and at this point, hopefully ours as well—that his former life as an army chaplain had little to do with promoting Christian values.