The Ark

We live in strange and perilous times.

The boat of Western civilisation has been cast adrift, tossed on turbulent seas churned by consumerism, individualism, militarism, and unrestrained capitalism. Now, it smashes against the jagged rocks of climate breakdown and ecological collapse, with societal disintegration no longer a distant threat but an unfolding reality.

For those with eyes to see, the signs are unmistakable: rising temperatures and seas, pandemics, wars, and the ever-present spectre of nuclear escalation. Yet, as the rocks loom large, we persist in a state of functional denial—a world of business as usual, enthralled by the false gods of our age.

The mythic anchors that once held our civilisation in place—Christendom, progress, the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, and the promises of technological salvation—have failed. We are adrift in a sea of confusion, our collective moral compass spinning wildly, incapable of guiding us back to safe harbour.

How, then, should those who have pledged allegiance to Jesus live in such a time as this?

We must take refuge in the ark of salvation: the Gospel of God, the Church of Christ. This ark is not a fortress to shield us from the storm, nor is it a blueprint for rebuilding the ruins of civilisation. It is something far more profound: a vessel that carries us through the storm, held fast by the unshakeable promises of God.

The ark embodies cruciform resistance. It defies the tides of this age—consumerism, individualism, militarism, and the idolatry of power—choosing instead the way of the cross. This resistance is rooted in humility, sacrificial love, and steadfast trust in the wisdom of God, whose strength is made perfect in weakness. It is not a retreat into irrelevance but a prophetic signpost pointing to a different way of being—a vision of humanity redeemed and restored.

The ark is also a place of cruciform adaptation. It confronts the harsh realities we face—climate instability, ecological collapse, and societal fragmentation—without yielding to despair. It nurtures the mustard seed of the Kingdom, cultivating a resilient, flourishing life that endures whatever may come. It is a vessel not only for survival but for renewal, bearing witness to God’s redemptive purposes and fostering a hope that is not tied to worldly success or stability.

Yet, the ark will seem strange—perhaps even absurd—to the world. It offers a way of being that is incomprehensible to those who are deeply embedded in the systems and idols of the age. The world may mock and ridicule the ark, perceiving it as irrelevant or foolish. Some may even persecute those who choose to live aboard it, as the way of the cross is always a challenge to the powers of the day. But this strangeness is not a weakness; it is a sign of the ark’s fidelity to the Gospel, which has always been countercultural and confrontational to the idols of power, wealth, and control.

To step aboard the ark is to embrace a countercultural way of living. It means choosing the wisdom of tradition over the distractions of postmodernity, the beauty of mystery over the allure of certainty, and the truth of the Gospel over the hollow promises of progress. It means embodying a strangeness that the world cannot comprehend, yet often finds deeply compelling—a life not rooted in power or control but in the radical love and transforming hope of resurrection.

This ark is a community of love. It is a resilient and compassionate gathering of people who care deeply for the most vulnerable, offering protection and care in the midst of the storm. The Church, as the ark, becomes a sanctuary—a place where the marginalised, the broken, and the suffering find refuge. It is a missional community, sent into the world to be a blessing to all people, offering hope, peace, and reconciliation in the name of Christ. It is a community rooted in the love of God, committed to justice, mercy, and humility, and always seeking the flourishing of others.

The ark is also an eschatological community, a community that lives in the tension of the now and the not yet. It embraces the storm that rages around us, acknowledging the reality of suffering, injustice, and ecological collapse, but it does so with eyes fixed on the renewal of all things. The Church, as the ark, looks with hope to the day when Christ will return to make all things new, to bring restoration to the earth, and to reconcile all things to God. Until that day comes, we are called to live out that hope now, embodying the Kingdom in the present as a sign of what is to come. We are hope filled realists, living within a world of both denial and despair.

As the Church, we are called to be this alternative community. The ark does not merely weather the storm; it becomes a beacon of kindness, a tangible outpost of the Kingdom where love takes form, mercy is embodied, and hope is rekindled. It is sanctuary and seedling—a sign of the renewal of all things, now and in the fullness of time.

Our calling is not to conform to the chaos but to proclaim the Gospel for what it is: a strange and saving story. It is the story of a God who redeems, who renews, and who will make all things new. The ark sails through the storm not because the seas are calm, but because it is carried by the unshakeable promises of God. Let us live as that people—bearing witness to the hope that does not fade, even when the storm rages.

O Lord, our refuge and strength,

In the midst of the storm, sustain us by Your grace.

As the waves of greed, strife, and despair rage around us,

Draw us into the ark of Your salvation.

Form us as a people of the cross,

Resisting the idols of our age,

Caring for the most vulnerable,

And holding fast to the hope of Your Kingdom.

Grant us wisdom to endure and courage to serve,

That we may be a community of love and mercy,

Rooted in Christ and looking to the renewal of all things.

Through Jesus Christ, our Lord,

To whom with You and the Holy Spirit,

Be all honour and glory, now and forever.

Amen.

Swales,2024.