Prayer and action
24/02/16 05:36
In the midst of the tumult of society, religious people often feel that they are pulled in multiple directions. On the one hand, we feel compelled to speak out on certain issues, especially those where the victims of violence are not able to speak out for themselves. On the other hand, most of us are drawn to quiet contemplation, knowing that words are not always effective and are easily misunderstood. Often it seems to me that would be prophets speak too quickly and confuse their own instincts with God’s calling. I’ve been known to bite my tongue rather than speak out on occasion because I am unsure of my role. All of the angry rhetoric that is being spoken in the current Presidential campaign in the United States has, on occasion, made me feel ashamed of the haste and lack of thoughtfulness of candidates. Their words have made me shutter at the possibility that someone who spouts such ignorance and hatred might become leader of the most powerful nation on the earth. But I have never been one to advise others on what they should think or how they should vote. I try to be honest with my thoughts and feelings, but hold back in many different arenas.
Biblical prophets are few and far between. They are endowed with poetic elegance and the capacity for powerful words that have lasting value. I’m not sure that I possess those gifts.
I have been inspired recently by looking at dramatic photographs that haver come out of Ukraine. If you do a Google search for “Priests in Ukraine violence” and click on “images” you will find some amazing scenes. Orthodox priests, often wearing stoles, carrying bibles or icons, stand amidst the rubble between riot police and protestors. There is a seven with a priest in gold and white stoles holding up a cross as an officer in riot gear points a rifle either at him or the crowd beyond him. In another picture, a priest is granting absolution to a penitent person kneeling in the snow, the priest’s blue stole draped over the head of the worshiper in the orthodox fashion as the priest reads from a prayer book. In another picture, a line of priests stand with dark smoke clouds blowing behind them. There are pictures of priests administering last rights over the bodies of the dead lying in the street and priest holding icons in the middle of streets lit by riot fires. In one picture the nave of a church has been transformed into a temporary mortuary with bodies lying on the floor covered by white sheets and a priest praying over those who have been killed.
The photographs are dramatic.
They also demonstrate a very important facet of faith and of how God works in this world. I am sure that the priests in the pictures have known fear. I’m sure that they have struggled over what behavior and words are appropriate. But they have, it seems to me, achieved a balance of prayer and contemplation with prophetic action and witness. They have literally taken their prayers into the places of conflict and violence and offered a witness. When others are striving to achieve more power to fight violence with increased violence, they stand in silent witness that there is another way.
I stare at the photographs and wonder if I would have the courage to walk into violent streets and place my life on the line. I do not know the answer.
I am not a part of the orthodox church. I have never been to the Ukraine. I don’t know more about the dynamics of the conflict that I can get from the Internet and other news sources. I do not possess a solution. But I have a bit of the sense of the balance of prayer and action. Christians are called to both and when they are combined they provide the seeds of transformation.
The power of the American Civil Rights Movement in the 1950’s and 1960’s arose from the churches. As important as were the strategies of protest and strategic boycott, were the tools of prayer and community worship. Nonviolent action supported by faith is more powerful than violence, though there will be those who have to pay an incredibly high price, even death itself, in the process. Sacrifice is required.
There are times when it seems that we need to be more public with our faith, taking it to the streets in demonstration of what we believe. I try to be public in small ways. I’m not often seen parading in vestments, nor do I seek podiums or opportunities to make speeches in public places. I prefer to speak to my congregation in the context of our worship services. But I am known to be a Christian pastor. I often wear a cross on my lapel and frequently carry a bible or prayer book. I offer public prayers when asked and am identified by the title “Reverend” when introduced. I even have vanity license plates on my truck that say “Rev Ted.”
I have not, however, spoken out in response to those who would deny healthcare to widows and orphans. I have been silent when others have argued for rejection instead of compassion for immigrants. I vote without even telling the members of my congregation how I have voted. I am reluctant to share my political opinions.
It may be that I lack courage.
It may also be that I believe more deeply in the power of prayer and faith. I understand the prayer and contemplation cannot be separated from activity and witness, but I also know that action that is not informed by openness, reconciliation, recollection and prayer can be hollow and meaningless. Genuine contemplation requires guarding against thoughtless activity and impulsive speaking.
I don’t know whether or not my life will call me into a face to face confrontation with evil, but if it does, I hope to be prepared by a lifetime of prayer. I pray that I might have the courage to love my enemy. I admire the priests in the Ukraine and I hope that when my time comes I will have the courage and wisdom to stand peaceably in the midst of the frenzy of hatred and strife as a witness for the power of love.
Biblical prophets are few and far between. They are endowed with poetic elegance and the capacity for powerful words that have lasting value. I’m not sure that I possess those gifts.
I have been inspired recently by looking at dramatic photographs that haver come out of Ukraine. If you do a Google search for “Priests in Ukraine violence” and click on “images” you will find some amazing scenes. Orthodox priests, often wearing stoles, carrying bibles or icons, stand amidst the rubble between riot police and protestors. There is a seven with a priest in gold and white stoles holding up a cross as an officer in riot gear points a rifle either at him or the crowd beyond him. In another picture, a priest is granting absolution to a penitent person kneeling in the snow, the priest’s blue stole draped over the head of the worshiper in the orthodox fashion as the priest reads from a prayer book. In another picture, a line of priests stand with dark smoke clouds blowing behind them. There are pictures of priests administering last rights over the bodies of the dead lying in the street and priest holding icons in the middle of streets lit by riot fires. In one picture the nave of a church has been transformed into a temporary mortuary with bodies lying on the floor covered by white sheets and a priest praying over those who have been killed.
The photographs are dramatic.
They also demonstrate a very important facet of faith and of how God works in this world. I am sure that the priests in the pictures have known fear. I’m sure that they have struggled over what behavior and words are appropriate. But they have, it seems to me, achieved a balance of prayer and contemplation with prophetic action and witness. They have literally taken their prayers into the places of conflict and violence and offered a witness. When others are striving to achieve more power to fight violence with increased violence, they stand in silent witness that there is another way.
I stare at the photographs and wonder if I would have the courage to walk into violent streets and place my life on the line. I do not know the answer.
I am not a part of the orthodox church. I have never been to the Ukraine. I don’t know more about the dynamics of the conflict that I can get from the Internet and other news sources. I do not possess a solution. But I have a bit of the sense of the balance of prayer and action. Christians are called to both and when they are combined they provide the seeds of transformation.
The power of the American Civil Rights Movement in the 1950’s and 1960’s arose from the churches. As important as were the strategies of protest and strategic boycott, were the tools of prayer and community worship. Nonviolent action supported by faith is more powerful than violence, though there will be those who have to pay an incredibly high price, even death itself, in the process. Sacrifice is required.
There are times when it seems that we need to be more public with our faith, taking it to the streets in demonstration of what we believe. I try to be public in small ways. I’m not often seen parading in vestments, nor do I seek podiums or opportunities to make speeches in public places. I prefer to speak to my congregation in the context of our worship services. But I am known to be a Christian pastor. I often wear a cross on my lapel and frequently carry a bible or prayer book. I offer public prayers when asked and am identified by the title “Reverend” when introduced. I even have vanity license plates on my truck that say “Rev Ted.”
I have not, however, spoken out in response to those who would deny healthcare to widows and orphans. I have been silent when others have argued for rejection instead of compassion for immigrants. I vote without even telling the members of my congregation how I have voted. I am reluctant to share my political opinions.
It may be that I lack courage.
It may also be that I believe more deeply in the power of prayer and faith. I understand the prayer and contemplation cannot be separated from activity and witness, but I also know that action that is not informed by openness, reconciliation, recollection and prayer can be hollow and meaningless. Genuine contemplation requires guarding against thoughtless activity and impulsive speaking.
I don’t know whether or not my life will call me into a face to face confrontation with evil, but if it does, I hope to be prepared by a lifetime of prayer. I pray that I might have the courage to love my enemy. I admire the priests in the Ukraine and I hope that when my time comes I will have the courage and wisdom to stand peaceably in the midst of the frenzy of hatred and strife as a witness for the power of love.