By Katie Harmon-McLaughlin
director of Formation Ministries 

The desperate prayer, the cry for help. That is the treasure, the rare shining glimpse of truth, in a world where everyone is so eager to show off their successes and strengths. That is the prize: to have your heart open in the place where the world is ending. Because it is always ending somewhere. Opening our hearts to those who are suffering in those world-ending places is spiritual work. 

I have the privilege of sitting in meetings where themes are decided. Theme development always carries the weight of spiritual leadership. How is God inviting the church to be formed? What words and phrases can capture and call us into the deep work of God in the world? 

The theme for World Conference 2023 emerged from this space, a recognition of all that people hold across the globe, the immensity of change we have been living through, and what the integrity and hope of discipleship summons from us in places where worlds are ending. 

Courage. It seemed to arise from some deep and sacred place in our collective imagination, a holy invitation, a call to action, a vital posture for times such as these. 

Courage. Courage. Courage. 

Even now, it bellows from the depths as it stretches across the church all around the globe. Every time we mention the upcoming experience of gathering in our stunning diversity and dare to dream of God’s action now and in the future, we utter the word. It already is forming us. Courage. 

Especially amid the hostility of the world today, are we willing to risk being present to another’s suffering?

As I hold that word in my heart and feel it forming on my tongue, I think of you. I think of you, my siblings in Christ, in your discernment, your doubt, your resilient hope. I think of the ways you have made do, stretching yourself to understand new technologies when the world shut down, making the hard and faithful decisions to sell or keep your building, to close or trust new vision. 

I think of friends in places where the church is thriving as they share the message of Christ’s peace that powerfully confronts cultural norms. I think of the conditions many of our members are living in as they cling to faith to sustain daily life—food insecure, lower caste, or systemically oppressed. I think of those moving through each day after significant loss, where normal no longer exists. Courage. 

Nothing about authentic discipleship right now doesn’t summon our courage. 

The story of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25–37) has been a faithful and challenging companion as we develop this theme. Especially amid the hostility of the world today, are we willing to risk being present to another’s suffering? Do we dare reach beyond our differences with radically open hearts to tend the wounds of those laying by the roadside, to touch them with our own hands and put them on our own donkeys, to pay for their care with our own money, to return and look after them? 

I’m excited and hesitant to explore all the implications and invitations of this powerful story for our lives and world today as we prepare and gather for World Conference. What might it reveal to us? What will courage require? 

Courage is also a Lenten word. It is a desert-place word, a word for times and places of drought, wilderness, survival, and resistance.

When we opened the conversation about this year’s focus for the Lenten season, Courage fell right in our laps. It arrived with determined ease—a momentum that is forming us as we prepare not just for World Conference, but for life in Christ at those places where worlds are ending. Keeping our hearts open in these places and times, writes Talitha Amadea Aho, “is spiritual work.” 

Courage is also a Lenten word. It is a desert-place word, a word for times and places of drought, wilderness, survival, and resistance. It is the word we speak to each other when we most need it, balm and burden, for it can remind us of our true identity and calling. It compels our presence and action in the places of our lives and world that make our palms sweat and knees tremble. Courage is a showing-up-in-what-is-real kind of word. It is a heart-pounding, eyes-wide-open word. It is a Christ word, a word of hope. 

Inspired by Jan Richardson’s poignant poem, “Blessing When the World is Ending,” Talitha Amadea Aho writes about what spiritual care looks like when worlds are ending: 

Don’t fool yourself with worrying about how the apocalypse is coming. It is here. Somewhere the world has ended with a million-acre fire. Here it has ended with rising sea level; there, with a long slow drought. Somewhere close to you it has ended with COVID-19 sweeping through a nursing home... or a prison. 

She suggests that what young people, and many others, are seeking from the church today is a faith that can build resilience and courage. A faith that empowers us to stay present to the suffering of the world. An edge-of-the-world’s-ending kind of faith. A stopping-on-the-roadside-to-tend-the-wounded kind of faith. 

The desert journey of Lent is one of deep faith and courage. Driven by the Spirit into the wilderness (Luke 4), we are confronted with our own hunger and spiritual dryness, our drought of vision, imagination, hope. We are taken to the place of nothingness and no way forward to discover again how God is present beyond what is earned, deserved, successful, or prosperous. 

We are taken to the far edges of what we thought we could tolerate and find more resilience than we could have dreamed. Facing down the powers that be with their seductive temptations, we gather our courage with Christ, gazing across a wide horizon of unfamiliar terrain. 

It is here that the anointing Spirit comes. The same Spirit that drives Christ to the wilderness drives him to the synagogue with a message of liberation pounding in his chest. 

Courage. Courage. Courage. 

This is not just another theme. It is spiritual work, and we are up to the task. Speak this word to one another, and let it settle into your bones and being for the work of transformation we already are in. 

This is the substance of our faith. We have these stories to remind us of who we are, which may be more important right now than knowing exactly where we are going. And if we are faithful and paying attention, where we are going might be interrupted anyway, as we show mercy to those beaten down by all kinds of oppressive powers and systems along the road. 

So, courage to you. Courage to us in this season of preparation. Courage to us in this time of great change. Courage to us as we embody a faith that is real, relevant, and meaningful: a faith that matters. Courage to us at the edges, margins, and ends of the world, where we stand vigil with what is unraveling and present with those who are suffering. Courage to us as we resist false hope and empty promises. Courage to us to live the heart of the gospel, where it is needed most—now and together. 

This is not just another theme. It is spiritual work, and we are up to the task. Speak this word to one another, and let it settle into your bones and being for the work of transformation we already are in. 

Courage, courage, courage.  

About the Author 

Katie Harmon-McLaughlin 

Pronouns: she/her 
Congregation: Cornerstone 
Priesthood: high priest 
Jobs: director of Formation Ministries