A Prayer for Peace from a Rocky Boat on a Stormy Sea

We stood in the meeting hall of a denominational gathering. A person who was, at that time, a coworker stood beside me. They were fully engaged in all the happenings and quite outspoken in favor of some, what seemed to me then and seems to me still, very secondary issue. I made a comment about how I regularly hear from former students who have walked away from church over this very kind of thing, the politicizaiton and polarization, and what seems well described as modern day Pharisaicalism. That’s a mouthful. (It means acting like the Pharisees whom Jesus rebuked in the Bible).

“Good,” they responded with the level of interest I would expect from someone with whom I had just shared that my first dog’s name was Buffy. True story.

I got another of those emails a couple days ago. They come in regularly. It’s humbling. It’s an honor, really. I thought I would modify my responde to fit this format in the hopes it might prove helpful or encouraging to you.

Dear You,

I wish I had something better to offer. I’m facing the same discouragement you are. I get it. I grow tired of all the bickering and the focus on things that don’t seem to matter. With all the very clear teachings about caring for the poor, it seems odd to me that so little of our church programming, if any, is devoted to such efforts. Yet how many endless hours are spent debating far less clear things in Scripture. We care far more for politics than we do the poor.

It seems the words of James stand as the most prominently ignored rebuke in all of the New Testament. We boast of all we believe. And yet we care so little for those living in the apartment tower across from our church parking lot, or the low income houses we drive past on our way home.

There are, of course, glorious examples to the contrary. Like you, I just wish there were more. And the most concerning thing, for me that is, is my own complicity and silence in the whole mess. I’m the problem.

Sadly, I’m in the same boat as you. But I’m reminded that Jesus once slept on a boat filled with doutbing disciples, tossed by tumultuous waves on the sea. He was able to speak peace back then, and I’m praying he will do that now for you me. If what the Bible says of him is true, as I believe it is, then he surely must be good, and kind, and caring.

When I get overwhelmed by it all, I try to follow the advice of C.S. Lewis who once said we need to regularly fall back from the web of our own arguments for Jesus, and fall into Christ himself. So, I fall back into him with my douts, my sin, and all my cynicism. If one of my kids came to me in a such a way, I surely wouldn’t turn them away. I would hold them until their doubts and fears and tears were overcome by love and acceptance.

That’s just what I would do for my kids. Surely Jesus must be at least as good as this. I’ve heard the rumor in the New Testament is that he is far better than all we might imagine. And while he seems so far away, I pray you might sense his Spriit with you now. Here in this boat with you.

He once calmed the storm. Perhaps he can do it again. Let’s ask him.