Back in 2008, the air was thick with promises of Hope and Change. I was just a college student, indulging in overpriced coffee and expanding my perspectives. Much to the chagrin of my traditional family, my newfound insights leaned heavily toward the progressive end of the political spectrum. That sweet, devout girl they once knew? She had transformed into something far more akin to a liberal activist.
Fast forward seven years post-9/11, and I felt the weight of weariness from ongoing conflicts. Too many loved ones had enlisted in the War on Terror, some never returning. The economy was in disarray, the housing market had crashed, and the burden of student loans felt insurmountable with a stagnant job market. Hope was long overdue.
I began following the political journey of a promising young senator and eagerly joined his campaign. We were passionate, informed, and ready to make a difference. We organized canvassing events, engaged in voter mobilization efforts, and at one point, I found myself being interviewed on MTV for protesting against local voter suppression. The fallout was intense; I received a flurry of calls from family, friends, and distant relatives expressing concern about my apparent transformation into a Prodigal Daughter.
It became clear that leans in conspiratorially good Christians weren’t expected to be politically active.
More than once, I was advised to keep my political involvement discreet. I was told to “let go and let God,” to get my knees dirty, and to keep my hands folded. Pray more, shout less.
Apparently, my LGBTQ+ friends didn’t require marriage equality; they just needed prayer. Women weren’t seeking access to reproductive healthcare; they needed prayer. Unborn children deserved a right to life, but their mothers? Well, they might be struggling and scared, but what they really needed was—surprise!—more prayer.
Now, I want to clarify that I absolutely believe in the power of prayer. I pray often and find solace in it. The idea of quietly voting while “praying the problem away” is certainly appealing. It would save me a lot of stress and grief if I simply kept quiet about issues of injustice, especially when it means avoiding uncomfortable conversations with family. “I’ll Pray for You” politics sounds so easy.
The issue is, however, that ease and righteousness rarely align.
So I must gently challenge all of you who advocate for “shut up and pray” politics. As people of faith, we can no longer afford to be the “Pray It Away People.” We cannot just pray and then feel satisfied that we’ve fulfilled our moral obligation. With the current administration actively undermining protections for the marginalized, the needy, and the voiceless, our response to cries for help has never been more critical. Aren’t these the individuals Jesus prioritized? Aren’t these the people He called us to support and love?
Yet, many of us remain passive, tossing prayers at those suffering as if they were coins into a wishing well.
“I’ll pray for you, LGBTQ+ community.” clink
“I’ll pray for you, refugees.” clink
“I’ll pray for you, families in poverty.” clink
While prayer is powerful, my duty to this world extends beyond mere words. God equipped me with a capable body and a compassionate heart, and I intend to utilize those gifts fully. This isn’t rocket science:
Prayer + Action = Real Change
Consider Jesus. Time and again, He met people’s immediate needs before sharing spiritual truths. He healed the sick, fed the hungry, and comforted the grieving. Did anyone approach Him seeking help only to receive a response of “I’ll pray for you”?
When innocent children are perilously crossing seas in search of safety, prayer alone is insufficient.
When entire communities are being erased from existence, prayer cannot be the only recourse.
When a woman reports domestic violence, only to be met with indifference due to her immigration status, distant prayers feel cold and ineffective.
I am a firm believer that prayer can bring about miracles, but the intention behind those prayers must be sincere. I can’t help but wonder: Has prayer become a political excuse? A way for us to evade our responsibilities to those who are suffering?
You should certainly pray for refugees, but you should also be ready to welcome them. You should pray for the impoverished, but also be willing to share your resources. You should pray for your leaders, but you must also stand against unjust policies.
Please, pray with all your heart. Then rise up, find ways to serve, and let your prayers manifest into action. Get involved politically. Your voice is needed now more than ever. You may be surprised by the miracles you encounter along the way.
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In summary, as people of faith, we must move beyond passive prayers. Our actions must reflect our beliefs, demonstrating love and support to those in need while engaging in the political landscape around us.