Hands Full of Blood: When Prayer Hides Injustice
Preached - Sunday, July 13, 2025
Scripture - Isaiah 1:10-17 NRSVUE
10 Hear the word of the Lord,
you rulers of Sodom!
Listen to the teaching of our God,
you people of Gomorrah!
11 What to me is the multitude of your sacrifices?
says the Lord;
I have had enough of burnt offerings of rams
and the fat of fed beasts;
I do not delight in the blood of bulls
or of lambs or of goats.
12 When you come to appear before me,
who asked this from your hand?
Trample my courts no more!
13 Bringing offerings is futile;
incense is an abomination to me.
New moon and Sabbath and calling of convocation—
I cannot endure solemn assemblies with iniquity.
14 Your new moons and your appointed festivals
my soul hates;
they have become a burden to me;
I am weary of bearing them.
15 When you stretch out your hands,
I will hide my eyes from you;
even though you make many prayers,
I will not listen;
your hands are full of blood.
16 Wash yourselves; make yourselves clean;
remove your evil deeds
from before my eyes;
cease to do evil;
17 learn to do good;
seek justice;
rescue the oppressed;
defend the orphan;
plead for the widow.
Message
Friends, I need you to hear me this evening. I need you to lean in and listen with your whole heart, because the Word of God is about to shake us out of our comfort and challenge us.
The prophet Isaiah stands before us today with a message that cuts through our religious pretense. These aren’t gentle words. These aren’t pretty verses for our refrigerator magnets. This is the unvarnished truth of God’s judgment on a people who think they can worship and pray their way out of responsibility while the world burns around them. Sound familiar?
“Even though you make many prayers, I will not listen.”
Did you hear that? GOD WILL NOT LISTEN TO OUR PRAYERS. Not when our hands are full of blood. Not when we acknowledge God with our lips at church on Sunday and then walk out into a world we’re actively destroying through our complacency, our silence, our willingness to let other people suffer while we offer thoughts and prayers instead of justice and action.
The Flood Waters Are Rising
On July 4, we watched devastating floods sweep through central Texas. As of Thursday, the death toll stood at 120 people including children, and at least 150 people remain missing in Kerr County, TX, alone.
People, including children, died. Families lost everything. Communities were underwater. And what did we hear from our leaders? Well, House Speaker Mike Johnson commented that, “In a moment like this, we feel just as helpless as everyone else does…all we know to do at this moment is pray.” Vice President JD Vance had a similar response: “Our nation’s heart breaks for the victims in Texas and their families. Just an incomprehensible tragedy. I hope everyone affected knows they’re in the prayers of my family, and of millions of Americans.” No stranger to lack luster responses in times of crisis, Senator Ted Cruz added, “[My wife] and I continue to lift up in prayer the families of the victims. It is imperative that all Texans heed the warnings and guidance of law enforcement. Please stay safe.”
For his part, Texas Governor Gregg Abbott declared Sunday, July 6, a statewide Day of Prayer, saying in part that “Texans are known for their faith, strength, and resilience. Even as floodwaters raged, neighbors rushed in to rescue, comfort, and bring hope. In times of loss, we turn to God for comfort, healing, and strength.”
But here’s what makes me angry: The same leaders who offer prayers have been systematically cutting FEMA’s budget and personnel for years. The second Trump Administration has already cut over 200 personnel and the recently passed “Big, Beautiful Bill” will further cut $664 million from its budget. In fact, Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem used FEMA’s response to the floods as evidence for why the agency should be eliminated, even as FEMA officials and others cited Noem’s cost cutting policies as a significant hurdle for FEMA in Texas. Listen to this: At Homeland Security, which supervises FEMA, every grant and contract exceeding $100,000 now requires Noem’s personal review and approval to be put into action. For FEMA that meant waiting 72 hours before they could move search and rescue personnel and equipment from other areas into Texas because the cost of moving those assets exceeded the $100,000 threshold.
They pray for disaster relief while voting against disaster preparedness. They ask God to heal the land and comfort the people while refusing to address the climate policies that make these disasters more frequent and more severe.
Isaiah calls this exactly what it is: vain offerings. Abominations. The trampling of God’s courts.
Speaking at the TFAM Holy Convocation last week and referring to the overall political moment, the Rev. Dr. Pamela Lightsey put it bluntly: “These motha fuckers are trying to kill us.”
You see, when we have the power to prevent or at least mitigate suffering and we choose not to use it, when we have the authority to create policies that protect the vulnerable and we refuse to act, when we can fund disaster relief and choose tax cuts for the wealthy instead, our prayers become mockery. Our worship becomes an insult to the God who created this earth and commanded us to be stewards of it.
The Blood on Our Hands
“Your hands are full of blood,” Isaiah declares. And church, our hands are stained red with the blood of climate victims, the blood of those who die from preventable diseases because they can’t afford healthcare, the blood of those who perish in disasters we could have prepared for but chose not to.
Liberation theology teaches us that God has a preferential option for the poor and the oppressed. Climate theology reminds us that the earth itself is crying out in groans too deep for words. Creation is not just the backdrop for human drama, it is a participant in God’s story, a co-sufferer with all who are oppressed.
When the polar ice caps melt, that’s not just environmental science, that’s theological crisis. When hurricanes grow stronger because of warmer ocean temperatures, that’s not just meteorology, that’s moral failure. When floods devastate communities because we’ve paved over wetlands and ignored flood management, that’s not just poor planning, that’s sin.
And the most vulnerable always pay the price first. The poor who can’t afford to evacuate. The elderly who can’t escape rising waters. Children whose camps are directly in the path of raging water. Communities of color who are disproportionately located in flood zones and pollution corridors. The global South that contributes least to climate change but suffers most from its effects.
This is what Isaiah means when he says our hands are full of blood. Every policy decision that prioritizes profit over people, every budget that funds weapons instead of healthcare, every environmental regulation that gets rolled back for corporate convenience. These are not abstract political issues. These are matters of life and death. These are questions of faithfulness to the God who calls us to justice.
The Hypocrisy of Hollow Worship
Listen to the fury in God’s voice through Isaiah: “What to me is the multitude of your sacrifices? I have had enough!” God is sick and tired of our religious performances when they’re disconnected from justice. God is weary of our Sunday worship when it doesn’t translate into Monday advocacy.
How many politicians have we watched stand at prayer breakfasts and invoke God’s name while voting against clean air standards? How many leaders have we seen bow their heads in prayer after a mass shooting while refusing to support common sense gun safety measures? How many times have we heard “God bless America” from the mouths of those who refuse to bless America with universal healthcare, living wages, free university education, or climate action?
Isaiah calls this what it is: solemn assemblies with iniquity. Worship that perpetuates injustice. Religion that serves power instead of challenging it.
The God we serve is not a cosmic vending machine where we insert prayers and receive blessings regardless of how we live. The God we serve is the God of justice who breaks the chains of oppression, who lifts up the lowly, who turns the world upside down for the sake of love.
The Call to Action
But friends, Isaiah doesn’t just diagnose the problem, he prescribes the cure. “Wash yourselves; make yourselves clean; remove the evil of your doings from before my eyes; cease to do evil; learn to do good; seek justice, rescue the oppressed, defend the orphan, plead for the widow.”
This is active language. This is verb-driven faith. This is roll-up-your-sleeves, get-your-hands-dirty, challenge-the-systems-of-power discipleship.
We can’t pray our way out of climate change while continuing to vote for leaders who deny its existence. We can’t worship our way out of healthcare inequity while supporting policies that cut coverage for millions and use the money to give tax cuts to billionaires. We can’t sing our way out of disaster vulnerability while cutting funding for the very agencies that respond to disasters.
God is calling us to prophetic action. God is calling us to hold our leaders accountable. God is calling us to demand better from those who have the power to make life-and-death decisions for millions of people.
The Theology of Enough
Creation theology teaches us that God looked at creation and called it good. Not just useful. Not just functional. GOOD. The earth is not a warehouse of resources for human consumption, it’s a sacred gift, a divine revelation, a testament to God’s creativity and love.
When we treat the earth as disposable, we sin against the Creator. When we prioritize short-term profits over long-term sustainability, we break faith with future generations. When we ignore the scientific consensus on climate change, we reject the gift of human reason that God has given us to understand and care for creation.
The same God who commands us to love our neighbors as ourselves commands us to love our planet as our home. The same God who calls us to care for the widow and the orphan calls us to care for coral reefs and forests. The same God who demands justice for the oppressed demands justice for the earth itself.
Healthcare as Holy Work
And let’s talk about healthcare, church. Jesus spent most of his ministry healing people. He didn’t check their insurance cards first. He didn’t ask about their ability to pay. He saw human suffering and responded with divine compassion.
Yet we live in a nation where people die from rationing insulin because they can’t afford it. Where families go bankrupt paying for cancer treatment. Where mental health care is treated as a luxury instead of a necessity. Where emergency rooms are overwhelmed because people can’t afford preventive care. Where hospitals close in the very areas that need them the most.
This isn’t just a policy failure, it’s a moral catastrophe. This is what happens when we let prayers substitute for action, when we let thoughts and prayers replace universal healthcare, when we let religious rhetoric mask our unwillingness to challenge systems that profit from human suffering.
We would do well to remember that God’s preferential option for the poor includes access to healing. Health care is not a commodity to be bought and sold. Health care is a human right and a sacred trust.
The Disaster of Inaction
Every time we cut FEMA’s budget, we’re gambling with human lives. Every time we ignore climate scientists’ warnings, we’re choosing ideology over reality. Every time we prioritize tax cuts over Medicare and Medicaid, we’re deciding that some people’s lives matter less than others.
The recent floods in Texas didn’t happen in a vacuum. They happened in a context of rising sea levels, warming temperatures, and extreme weather events that climate scientists have been predicting for decades. They happened in a context of underfunded emergency response systems and inadequate infrastructure investment.
When leaders offer prayers instead of preparation, when they invoke God’s name while ignoring God’s creation, when they ask for divine intervention while refusing human responsibility, they’re not just failing in their duties as public servants. They're lying through their prayers. They’re invoking God’s name in vain.
The God Who Acts
The God we serve is not a distant deity who watches human suffering with detached sympathy. The God we serve is Emmanuel, literally God with us, who enters into human pain and works through human hands to bring healing and justice.
God doesn’t just feel sorry for flood victims; God calls us to build better levees. God doesn’t just pity the sick; God calls us to create healthcare systems that serve everyone. God doesn’t just mourn climate change; God calls us to transform our energy systems and our way of life.
Prayer without action is fantasy. Worship without justice is idolatry. Religion without responsibility is rebellion against the God who calls us to be co-creators of a just and sustainable world.
The Prophetic Imperative
Friends, we are called to be prophets. Not fortune-tellers who predict the future, but truth-tellers who name the present reality. Not mystics who escape from the world, but activists who transform it. Not chaplains who comfort empire, but protesters who disturb the peace of injustice.
The prophetic tradition teaches us that silence in the face of oppression is complicity. Neutrality in the face of injustice is collaboration. Prayers without action in the face of preventable suffering is sin.
We must demand accountability from our leaders. We must vote for candidates who prioritize climate action over fossil fuel profits. We must support policies that expand healthcare access instead of restricting it. We must fund disaster preparedness instead of cutting it.
The Time Is Now
The floods in Texas are not a one-time tragedy; they’re a preview of coming attractions if we don’t act now. The climate crisis is not a future problem, it’s a present reality. The healthcare crisis is not a distant concern, it’s a daily emergency for millions of our neighbors and for many of us too.
God is not asking us to be perfect. God is asking us to be faithful. God is not demanding that we solve every problem overnight. God is demanding that we stop pretending that prayers are enough when action is possible.
Isaiah’s message is clear: “Learn to do good; seek justice, rescue the oppressed, defend the orphan, plead for the widow.” This is not just individual charity. This is systemic transformation. This is not just personal piety. This is public theology. This is not just spiritual practice. This is political action.
The Promise of Renewal
But hear this: God’s judgment is not God’s final word. God’s anger is not God’s ultimate emotion.
Isaiah continues in verse 18: “Come now, let us argue it out, says the Lord: though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be like snow; though they are red like crimson, they shall become like wool.”
There is hope for renewal. There is possibility for transformation. There is a future where our prayers are connected to our actions, where our worship leads to justice, where our faith translates into policy change that saves lives and heals the earth.
But that future depends on our choices today. It depends on our willingness to move beyond thoughts and prayers to policies and action. It depends on our courage to challenge leaders who offer religious rhetoric while refusing moral responsibility.
The Call to Discipleship
Here’s what God is demanding of us: First, educate yourselves. Learn about climate science. Study healthcare policy. Understand disaster preparedness. Faith without knowledge is not humility, it’s irresponsibility.
Second, engage politically. Vote in every election. Contact your representatives. Attend town halls. Support candidates who prioritize justice over wealth, creation care over corporate profits, healthcare access over tax cuts.
Third, change your lifestyle. Reduce your carbon footprint. Support renewable energy. Make healthcare a priority in your budget and your advocacy. Live as if the earth is sacred and human life is precious.
Fourth, hold your leaders accountable. When they offer prayers instead of policy changes, call them out. When they invoke God’s name while ignoring God’s creation, challenge them. When they ask for divine intervention while refusing human responsibility, demand better.
The Final Word
Church, the time for comfortable religion is over. The time for safe spirituality is past. The time for prayers without action is finished.
God is calling us to be agents of transformation, not just recipients of consolation. God is calling us to be prophets of justice, not just practitioners of piety. God is calling us to be healers of the earth, not just inhabitants of it.
The floods in Texas are still fresh in our minds. The climate crisis is still accelerating. The healthcare crisis is still claiming lives.
But we are far from helpless. We are not powerless. We are not without agency or responsibility.
We are the body of Christ in the world. We are the hands and feet of Jesus. We are the voice of the prophets in our generations.
And God is calling us to act.
Not just to pray, though prayer is important when it leads to action.
Not just to hope, though hope is essential when it motivates engagement.
Not just to believe, though faith is crucial when it translates into discipleship.
God is calling us to transform the world through the power of love, the pursuit of justice, and the courage to challenge every system that treats human life as expendable and creation as disposable.
The question is not whether God will hear our prayers. The question is whether we will hear God’s call to action.
The question is not whether God will bless our worship. The question is whether our worship will lead to the blessing of justice for all creation.
The question is not whether God will save us from disaster. The question is whether we will work to prevent disasters in the first place.
Let us pray with our feet. Let us worship with our votes. Let us serve with our advocacy.
Let us become the answer to our own prayers by becoming the agents of God’s justice in the world.
In the name of the One who creates, redeems, and sustains all life.
Amen.
(Preachers rarely stick 100% to their written text, so please note that the text and what I actually preached may differ a bit.)