Throwback Thursday: Dinghies, Yachts, and Drowning Systems

Let’s say the economy is a boat.

Not a single boat, mind you—a whole fleet. Some of us are in modest little dinghies, patched and leaky, paddling hard to stay upright. Some are clinging to debris that technically doesn’t float. And others? Others are enjoying espresso on the deck of something with a helipad.

This was the image that surfaced (pun intended) in Episode 7 of Prepared to Drown, “Dinghies and Yachts.” What started as a conversation about poverty quickly became a theological ship inspection—asking what kind of vessel we’re building, who it’s for, and who keeps getting left overboard.

We talked about the myth of meritocracy. About how many people are taught—spiritually and socially—that if you’re struggling, it’s because you didn’t paddle hard enough. And if you’re thriving, it must be because God is pleased with your technique.

It’s neat. It’s tidy. And it’s a lie.

We traced that lie all the way back to its religious roots. To theologies that say blessing equals wealth. That “stewardship” means accumulating. That charity is the goal instead of justice. But here’s the thing: if your theology can’t explain why someone working full-time still can’t afford groceries, it’s not theology. It’s public relations for the yacht club.

The conversation got richer when we invited panelists from public policy and community action circles. They reminded us that systems—not just choices—shape our outcomes. That inequality is baked in. That resilience isn’t just an individual trait—it’s a communal response. And that sometimes the most radical thing a faith community can do is name what’s happening and stop pretending it’s normal.

We also talked about the way the church has often spiritualized suffering in ways that make people feel ashamed for being poor—or too proud for being comfortable.

And that’s where it got personal.

Because I’ve heard the prayers that equate abundance with righteousness. I’ve watched as “helping the poor” becomes more about volunteer optics than systemic change. I’ve sat with people who love Jesus and still can’t pay rent. And I’ve heard others say, “Well, if they just budgeted better…” as if poverty is a math problem and not a moral crisis.

Here’s what I keep coming back to: the gospel isn’t about upward mobility. It’s about collective dignity.

Jesus didn’t preach to make us richer. He preached to make us more human. He blessed the poor, flipped tables, fed people without checking their tax bracket. He reminded us, over and over, that real wealth is shared. And that heaven’s economy runs on grace, not scarcity.

So if we want to be faithful, we have to stop pretending that poverty is an individual failure—and start naming it as a theological one.

We have to stop asking, “What did they do wrong?” and start asking, “What kind of system allows this much wrong to go unchecked?”

And maybe—just maybe—we stop asking who deserves to be in the boat, and start building better boats.

More lifeboats. More rafts. Fewer private vessels with billion-dollar price tags.

I know it sounds cheeky. But there’s something sacred about a well-placed metaphor. If Jesus could compare God’s kingdom to yeast, seeds, or lost coins, I think we can talk about dinghies and yachts.

Especially if it helps us see more clearly what needs to change.

Especially if it keeps us from drowning in denial.