That’s the Spirit: Madeleine Pennington’s Thought for the Week
‘We did not become pacifists to win – but because we seek total obedience to a Spirit of Peace.’
As horrific images emerge from Ukraine I have found myself grappling with what to pray for. I have heard the prayers for the Ukrainian people, and echo them, but I’m also reminded of Jesus’ instruction to ‘Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you’.
Where does that leave us? It seems to suggest we should be praying for invading forces alongside their victims. How about praying for Putin? Since I believe that God’s power is primarily the power to transform hearts, not win military battles, perhaps praying for the ‘promptings of love and truth’ to grow in Putin’s soul is even the most effective direct action we can take! After all, what the world wouldn’t give for Putin to search out for the ‘seeds of war’ in his own life.
That might be a pragmatic case, but is prayer always about action? The day before the invasion, I attended an event run by the Council on Christian Approaches to Defence and Disarmament, where one of the panellists posited that non-violence as a political tactic is a relatively new idea. It reminded me that the Quaker Peace Testimony emerged not as a means of protest, or of seeking political change, but out of an aspiration to be transformed by ‘the Spirit of Christ’. We might even say that our Peace Testimony was originally issued precisely to show that we were not a political threat. We did not become pacifists to win – but because we seek total obedience to a Spirit of Peace which ‘is not changeable’.
The starting point for a Quaker response to war cannot therefore be conventional side-taking, but leaning on God in prayer. Simply, before anything else, ‘thy will be done’.
Quakers often claim (I think rightly) that faith-driven activism emerges when we open ourselves up to the leadings of the Spirit. Yet when we have our own strong sense of justice in a situation it becomes too easy to spiritualise what we would have wanted to do anyway. To bless the actions we’d like to think God wants us to take. Far harder is the realisation that, if we are truly to be led, we may be led in counter-intuitive directions. As Paul’s letter to the Romans reminds us: ‘We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit [itself] intercedes for us through wordless groans.’ Sometimes this may well be political; other times, God might have other ideas.
I find that it’s not enough to pray for Ukraine, or Putin, or even for God’s will in the abstract. First, I must pray for the transformation of my own heart – to be given the humility to stop talking and let the Spirit in. Isn’t that what expectant waiting is all about?
I am reminded of the words of Etty Hillesum, who died in Auschwitz: ‘All we can manage these days and also all that really matters [is] that we safeguard that little piece of You, God, in ourselves. And perhaps in others as well. Alas, there doesn’t seem to be much You Yourself can do about our circumstances, about our lives. Neither do I hold You responsible. You cannot help us, but we must help You and defend Your dwelling place inside us to the last.’
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