Rick Warren's Prayer of Invocation

What did you think of Warren's prayer?

Before I say anything else, let me preface my remarks by confessing that I have grown tired of all these self-appointed, miserable critics of the Christian blogosphere. I'm thinking in particular of the 'truly reformed' curmudgeons, who apparently have nothing better to do on a Friday night than compose bloated jeremiads inspired by Moscow, Idaho against every heresy in American Christendom. In addition to the two seminary extension classes they took online, they've read all of David Well's books. So, clearly, they're experts. For them, all things big are bad - unless it's a Berkhof textbook. Aside from small churches and high liturgy, these critics seem to delight most in the missteps and obvious shortcomings of evangelicalism's popular leaders. They are ever watching - even hoping - for error, and ever anxious to document and exchange every gruesome detail on their incestuous blogs. With "friends" like these in cyberspace, evangelicalism hardly needs enemies. But, be that as it may, I seriously doubt that Bill Hybels trembles to think that hundreds of pasty white twenty-or, God help us, even older-somethings rage against his Willow Creek Machine from their mother's basements.

Having said all that, I am about to critique a popular evangelical leader on my blog. Specifically, to answer the above question, my take on Warren's inaugural invocation (which, in some ways, was very impressive) is that it was, ultimately, well, lame.

Reverend Warren's prayer illustrates the perils of that delicate and treacherous balance we evangelical Christians are constantly tempted to strike: namely, how to be distinctly Christian, while appearing generally tolerant and broadminded.

We're not always sure when we've found common ground in our inclusiveness, and when we've lost it. Was, for example, Warren's clever inclusion of the Jewish Shema, the Quran's address of Allah as the "compassionate and merciful" one, and the Lord's Prayer an instance of Gospel contextualization - appealing to our common confessions for the purpose of pointing to the uniqueness of Christ? If it was, was it effective?

That Warren's carefully constructed expressions of tolerance rang hollow, while the subtle affirmation of Christian distinctiveness in his praying "in the name of...Jesus," was effectually muted, is ably pointed out in this article by Lisa Miller, the decidedly non-Christian, religion editor of Newsweek magazine. The end result was that the prayer was neither satisfying nor provocative.

What Warren forfeited, as I see it, in his opportunity to address God before the nation, and on its behalf, was the prophetic voice of the Church. Though Rev. Warren rightly appealed to the general grace and providential goodness of God in our nation's history, he said little to nothing of God's righteousness, his holiness, his judgment, his wrath and vengeance against sin. What was lacking, I thought, was the humble acknowledgment of and repentance for "our national perverseness and disobedience," to which President Lincoln called the nation in his 1863 Proclamation of Thanksgiving (in which the President not only expressed thanksgiving to God for his great mercy, but also frankly acknowledged his "dealing with us in anger for our sins"). To be fair, Rev. Warren did pray for forgiveness. But, as Lisa Miller asks, for what, exactly? For whom? And why? "Warren is savvy; he was not specific."

When the great prophets and leaders of Israel prayed for the nation, both publicly (Ezra 9:1-15; cf. Nehemiah 9:1-37) and privately (Daniel 9:1-20; Nehemiah 1:4-11), they cried out for mercy, confessing the nation's many sins (speaking not self-righteously, but as one standing in need of forgiveness as well), and pleaded for the grace of repentance and restoration to be given from heaven. From Moses to Malachi, this truth had been emblazoned on nearly every page of the Jewish Bible: only with radical repentance, yielding moral and spiritual reformation within Israel, could there ever be hope for national restoration. Their prayers were meaty, specific, heartfelt, passionate, eloquent, faithful and relevant!

Of course America is not Israel, and, rather than a theocracy, is a pluralistic democracy. However, when a Christian minister of the gospel is asked to pray on behalf of the nation, should the content of his prayer be informed by the politics of tolerance, or the politics of God's kingdom (which is the theocracy)? What better opportunity to plead on behalf of the nation for God's grace: To confess our national sins of blind greed, gluttonous consumerism, gross sexual immorality, the slaughter of innocents, hating one another (racially, socially, politically), and neglecting the "least of these" in the pursuit of the American dream; And to offer, in view of our oppressive and hopeless sin, the glorious liberation and hope of God's rich grace in Jesus Christ.

But, it will be insisted, he might lose his platform if he does that. But if all we offer on that platform is predictable platitudes and vague appeals to the Christian gospel, what good is it really?