'I'll pray for you.' It's what we tend to say when we can't think of anything more useful to do. Sometimes we actually do pray for this unfortunate who has been bereaved, or got ill, or been made redundant; sometimes we don't, as Martin Saunders has been honest enough to admit.
This tension between the desire to fix things and the knowledge that there are some things only God can do – and we aren't even sure what they are – is built in to how Christians engage with the world and with each other. We can't solve every problem, but we believe there is a golden thread of God's activity woven into every human predicament.
Hence the initiative of the Archbishop of Canterbury launched yesterday, Thy Kingdom Come. It's a campaign to get people praying for converts, and it follows an unexpectedly successful event last year. Run in conjunction with the 24/7 prayer network, it was expected to attract around 5,000 supporters and ended up reaching 100,000. It is, the Archbishop was at pains to stress, not an Anglican thing; it's just that he and the Archbishop of York happened to think of it. Realistically, most of the takeup will be Anglican, but it is a thoroughly ecumenical venture: pray, as individuals, families and churches, between Ascension and Pentecost - that's May 25 to June 4 - for the salvation of souls.
The wide support for the initiative might uncharitably be thought to smack of desperation. Outside London, the Church in the UK is declining. Methodism, once a Nonconformist powerhouse, is approaching a cliff-edge thanks to an aging membership. Of course we'll pray for converts; we've tried everything else and it hasn't worked.
But this isn't quite the whole story. Thy Kingdom Come is a deliberate attempt to acknowledge, on a very large scale, human – particularly Christian – insufficiency, at the same time as being an expression of deep hope and trust in God. We can't make people Christians. Only God can do that, and we pray that he will.
At the same time, we have absolutely no excuse for not trying as hard as we can to persuade them of the truth of the gospel. The reason why it is this particular archbishop who has been able to energise the Church to back Thy Kingdom Come is that he embodies the two complementary requirements for credibility: he is an organiser and an activist, but he is also a fervent believer in whom the currents of faith run very deeply. One without the other wouldn't work. We need prayer, but we need action too.
London provides a good example of this. Richard Chartres' leadership as its Anglican bishop has led to the Church of England growing considerably – and it's not just about immigration, either. Prayer is an integral part of it. It's the combination of spirituality and practicality that delivers results.
Many churches in the UK are struggling with low numbers, few young people and low morale. Not all of them, by any means, and there are signs of growth, too, but it's been a hard few decades. Where Thy Kingdom Come strikes a chord is that it encourages people to hand over the problem to God. It acknowledges that there's only so much we can do, and that's alright.
The Baptist father of modern missions, William Carey, is famous for saying: 'Expect great things from God; attempt great things for God.' Praying Thy Kingdom Come is to stand with empty hands, and if we are honest, empty heads as well, asking God to fill them. But the expectation and the attempt belong together. We don't expect prayer to replace action, but we know action is useless without prayer. In our darker moments, praying 'Thy Kingdom Come' might seem like one of those desperate 'I can't think of anything else to say' statements. In reality, it's what might change the world.
Resources for Thy Kingdom Come can be found here.
Follow Mark Woods on Twitter: @RevMarkWoods.
