As I confessed to my congregation a few weeks ago, I have been engrossed by news of the Russian invasion of Ukraine. Admittedly, my knowledge of Ukraine’s history, culture, and the vital role it plays on the world stage were lacking prior to this conflict. I have learned much in these tense and heartbreaking weeks of conflict. While I am no expert in the history of the region or military matters in general, I have managed to curate several reliable sources that provide a feast of information on the day-to-day and even hour-by-hour developments of the war. To put it simply, the conflict is never far from my mind. For a host of reasons, some of which are difficult to explain, this conflict matters deeply to me.
As an American living in the center of the United States, my options to help those suffering in this tragedy are minimal. I can donate to the efforts of the International Committee of the Red Cross or Presbyterian Disaster Assistance (please do that, by the way). I can also reach out to my congressional representation advocating for policies I think may be helpful. Beyond those practical but rather detached acts, all I can do is pray.
Yet when I do pray about this war, something feels a bit off. The words that I have been using do not seem to connect well to the situation on the ground or my emotions surrounding them. My prayers are largely filled with verbiage found in the PC(USA) Book of Common Worship. I confess to God that “We condone evil, prejudice, warfare, and greed.” I pray that “wars and violence shall end, and your children may live in peace.” While these prayers are not inappropriate, and I do hope for peace, they also feel impersonal, hardly fitting images of a bombed-out theatre that had been publicly marked as a shelter for children or millions streaming across borders just hoping to find safety. In short, these prayers do not reflect what my heart yearns to convey.
I recently stumbled upon a tweet from Anthony D. Baker, professor of systematic theology at Seminary of the Southwest and theologian in residence at St. Julian of Norwich Episcopal Church in Austin, Texas. His tweet reads, “I got tired of hearing prayers for peace rather than liberation in Ukraine.” Here, Baker names the frustration that has been niggling at me. The PC(USA) Book of Common Worship does a wonderful job of rightly invoking God as the ultimate peacemaker in creation, but prayers for peace alone in the face of deadly, evil oppression fall short of vision of peace found in God’s story of salvation.
Baker continues, “On Sunday, St Julian of Norwich, Austin, prayed this one that I composed. … O God who raised your son from the grave, vanquishing the reign of sin, betrayal, and death, we pray for liberation for the people of Ukraine, besieged as they are by deceit and weapons of war. In the name of Jesus Christ, the risen one. Amen.” Amen, indeed.
Baker’s prayer speaks to the suffering of the Ukrainian people at the hands of a more powerful aggressor. It names the oppression of deceit witnessed in shameless propaganda by Putin and the Kremlin and warfare from which Ukrainians need liberation. It is a reminder that God is not only a bringer of peace in a general sense but the one who leads people out of bondage and into life-giving freedom. Baker’s prayer speaks to my understanding of God as, not only the Prince of Peace, but the God of justice and equality. As the Magnificat (Luke 1:46-55) reminds us, “(God) has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly.” Our God is in the business of restoring the weak when they have suffered at the unjust hands of the mighty.
While Christians should always be cautious about nationalism seeping into our practice of faith and remember that God is the God of all people, including those whom we label as enemies, we need not water down our prayers or mission with what my friend David Peters, vicar of St. Joan of Arc Episcopal Church in Pflugerville, Texas, calls “spectator pacifism.” We need not offer the Almighty platitudes about peace when there is injustice that still requires repair. Technology is showing us the war for Ukraine in stunning detail. Day by day and hour by hour, we see the horror of war in shocking detail. Our prayers of intercession should reach beyond generic pleas for peace and embrace the liberating power of the gospel.
With this in mind, I pray for the lives of Ukrainians and Russians needlessly in harm’s way as the direct result of gratuitous aggression. I pray for the wisdom of Ukrainian leaders trying to hold their country together and care for their people. I pray for the repentance of those who conceived and initiated this war. Finally, I pray for the liberation and restoration of Ukraine in the name of Jesus, the liberator and restorer of life itself.
