Findiing Peace Where Good & Evil Grow Together

One of my favorite TV shows of all time was Firefly. It was a space western. That may sound like a contradiction, but it worked. Unlike most science fiction shows, there were no humans in makeup pretending to be aliens. The story centered on people who left “Earth-that-was” and settled in other parts of the galaxy. There was space travel and planet development, but the real focus was on people and how they handled their environment and culture.

Society was divided between wealthy core planets and poor outer worlds. Some worlds had modern comforts; others struggled to survive. The culture reflected the American Old West—not in geography, but in values and behavior. It was often every person for himself, with rough justice and a strong personal code.

There had been a war between the powerful central Alliance and the outer worlds that resisted its control. The Alliance won. After the war, the core planets lived under structured order, while the outer rim functioned like a frontier. Survival sometimes meant breaking the law.

The show followed a crew of nine aboard a spaceship. Always hiding from the Alliance, they survived through smuggling and legitimate work. At times they defended oppressed towns. The captain had been a non-commissioned officer in the rebellion. His first officer, a strong and capable woman, had fought beside him and remained loyal. Throughout the series, that loyalty was never violated or turned into romance. The pilot provided humor and was married to the first officer. Their relationship seemed unlikely—he was gentle and easygoing; she was bold and direct. The mechanic, a young woman with stubborn optimism, kept the ship running with great skill. A hired warrior—an example of raw, aggressive masculinity—provided force when needed. A wealthy surgeon and his sister, a young woman with unusual mental abilities, lived with them. She had been captured by the Alliance and experimented on to enhance her abilities for military use. The doctor sacrificed his career and reputation to rescue her. There was also a Companion, a trained courtesan with social influence. And finally, there was Shepherd Book—a Christian minister with a mysterious past that hinted at military wrongdoing. He had left that life, spent time in a monastery, and then joined the crew.

To me, this crew reflected the tension we see in the world. Good and evil exist side by side. Authority restrains evil, yet evil still pushes against that restraint. Each character struggled with moral choices. The captain disrespected the Companion’s profession, yet cared for her. The pilot felt jealousy over the bond between his wife and the captain. The warrior resented the doctor and his sister because of the danger they brought. The mechanic quietly loved the doctor, who was too focused on protecting his sister to notice. And the Shepherd tried to steady them all with faith and wisdom from his past, though he often felt frustrated. The show didn’t blur right and wrong; it showed how hard it can be to walk those lines. It handled these themes with both humor and seriousness. And still, the crew stayed together to do some good. To me, it’s a clear picture of life in a world where good and evil exist together.

Here’s why I bring this up. The series ran for only one season before it was canceled, but it developed a strong following. Novels, graphic novels, and even a motion picture followed.  One of the graphic novels was a prequel called The Shepherd’s Tale. In that story, which tells the origin of Shepherd Book, he leaves the monastery to return to the world. As he walks out the door, he prays something close to these words:

Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is discord, union;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
where there is sadness, joy.

Grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
to be loved as to love

Amen

This prayer moved me so much it brings tears to my eyes each time I read it.  It is simple but so deep.  I researched it and found it to be famous.  It is attributed to St. Francis of Assisi from from around the 12th century but there is a general disagreement on that point.  Instead it seems to have a 20th century origin.  Either way, it is worthy of tribute.  Over the month of March, each devotional will be concerned with an aspect of this prayer.  Please read them, and if you like them,  encourage your friends and family to subscribe so they can benefit from them.   I think you will find the series helpful in deepening your prayer life as it has mine.

Reflection Questions

• Where do I see the tension between good and evil most clearly in my own life right now — in my family, church, workplace, or culture?

• When I encounter conflict, do I usually withdraw, react, or engage with purpose?

• Have I ever prayed to be used by God in difficult places — or do I mostly pray to be protected from them?  

• Which line of the prayer unsettles me the most? Why?  

• Do I believe God can use imperfect people, like the crew in the story, to accomplish good?  

• Am I willing to be an instrument — directed by God — rather than insisting on directing my own outcomes?  

• If heaven is unmixed good and this world is a contested field, what kind of presence am I bringing into that field?  

Prayer

Lord,

You see the world as it truly is — a place where good and evil exist side by side. You have not called us to escape it, but to live faithfully within it.

Make me an instrument of Your peace.

Teach me not to withdraw from tension, and not to become harsh inside it. Guard my heart from pride, fear, and bitterness. Help me walk clearly in a world that often feels confused.

When I am tempted to react, give me wisdom.
When I am wounded, give me grace.
When I am unsure, anchor me in truth.

Shape my character so that I reflect Christ — not only in calm moments, but in conflict. Let my presence bring steadiness, not chaos; light, not heat.

Over these coming weeks, deepen my understanding of this prayer. More than that, deepen my obedience.

I want to be used by You.

In Jesus’ name,
Amen.