Summary: on a government sanctioned day of prayer, we should remember not only how prayer, (especially of the imprecatory “I pray that God will kill you, unpleasantly and right away” variety) can be abused, but also how sometimes prayer can be powerfully prophylactic. But at a time when all of our discourse has been debased and politicized, those who use prayer as a weapon should remember that they are giving prayer itself a bad name.
By: Paul S. Marchand
Today is the National Day of Prayer.
While, as an Episcopalian, I’m not necessarily a member of a tightly organized religion, I may know a thing or two about prayer.
I know, for example, that I have been prayed for, which can actually be a very sweet, even reassuring, thing, that I have been prayed about, and certainly that I have been prayed against.
When I was in public office, I used to receive charming e-mails from various sources informing me that my death was being earnestly prayed for, either because I was a baby killer, an agent of Satan, an unrepentant and wicked homosexual (and here I had thought I was merely fabulous) , a traitor, a liberal, or maybe I had just voted against someone’s code enforcement appeal. Such prayers are often known as imprecatory prayers, by which the one doing the praying seeks --- often with a singular lack of success --- to call down the ill will of whatever deity is being prayed to upon the target.
Now prayer, the theologians tell us, can be answered in one of three ways: "yes," "no," and "wait." And the one thing I can predict with absolute certainty is that at some point the prayers of those who pray for my death will indeed be answered in the affirmative; Benjamin Franklin was right when he pointed out that the only two certain things in life are death and taxes. Of course, those who use prayer as a weapon of imprecation would be just as happy if I -- and presumably my family and everyone close to me -- were to die, right now, in some particularly horrifying way that could be presented to the credulous as evidence of a wrathful God working out His divine anger on me and those close to me.
Now the better part of a decade of having one’s death prayed for, and being on the receiving end of all manner of imprecation can have a salutary effect of thickening one’s skin. Some of the best advice I ever got when I entered the vortex of public life was on the importance of developing that thick skin, and of never letting insults or imprecations throw me off my game, especially in a political climate where the cynical manufacture of phony outrage has become a routine staple of our debased discourse. If I had blown a gasket every time I got an e-mail telling me that my death was being prayed for, or calling down the ill will of God on me, my family, and those close to me, I would never have been able to get any work done, either as a public official or in my private sector occupation.
Perhaps ironically, my own remedy for being prayed against is prayer itself, quiet, private, centering prayer which, pace my atheist and agnostic friends, can be a marvelously effective, powerfully prophylactic way of clearing the emotional cache and repairing the spiritual registry, so to speak. Thus, I cannot associate myself with those who believe in a “prayer warrior” ethos that prefers imprecation to intercession or petitions for prosperity to the meditative emptying of self and ego that ought to characterize walking humbly before God (Micah 6:8). Such an ethic of humble emptying, sadly, seems absent from those who believe that prayer is just another kind of M-16.
So, perhaps, I bristle when I hear the phrase “prayer warriors.” Not only does the phrase call to mind an approach to the divine which seems rather out of character with the broad tenets of the faith a majority of Americans continue to profess, but also suggests a certain predisposition toward militancy that causes one to entertain a certain concern that beyond vocal militancy lies direct action. The person who believes that he were she is God’s chosen instrument is but a step or two removed from being willing to go from prayer to provocation, being willing to take the phrase “Church militant” all too literally.
For in the end, a militant “prayer warrior” ethic that seeks to enlist God and prayer as activists for a particular temporal cause only winds up giving prayer --- and people of faith --- a bad name. Those who call themselves “prayer warriors” would remember that we Christians confess a Savior Whom we proclaim to be Prince of Peace, not of war.
-xxx-
Paul S. Marchand is an attorney who lives and works in Cathedral City, California. The views expressed herein are his own, and do not necessarily reflect the views of any organization or entity with which he is associated. They are not intended as, and should not be construed as either religious instruction or legal advice, although he would note as gratuitous counsel that when you kneel to pray, use a prie dieu, it’s a lot easier on the knees, particularly in middle age.
By: Paul S. Marchand
Today is the National Day of Prayer.
While, as an Episcopalian, I’m not necessarily a member of a tightly organized religion, I may know a thing or two about prayer.
I know, for example, that I have been prayed for, which can actually be a very sweet, even reassuring, thing, that I have been prayed about, and certainly that I have been prayed against.
When I was in public office, I used to receive charming e-mails from various sources informing me that my death was being earnestly prayed for, either because I was a baby killer, an agent of Satan, an unrepentant and wicked homosexual (and here I had thought I was merely fabulous) , a traitor, a liberal, or maybe I had just voted against someone’s code enforcement appeal. Such prayers are often known as imprecatory prayers, by which the one doing the praying seeks --- often with a singular lack of success --- to call down the ill will of whatever deity is being prayed to upon the target.
Now prayer, the theologians tell us, can be answered in one of three ways: "yes," "no," and "wait." And the one thing I can predict with absolute certainty is that at some point the prayers of those who pray for my death will indeed be answered in the affirmative; Benjamin Franklin was right when he pointed out that the only two certain things in life are death and taxes. Of course, those who use prayer as a weapon of imprecation would be just as happy if I -- and presumably my family and everyone close to me -- were to die, right now, in some particularly horrifying way that could be presented to the credulous as evidence of a wrathful God working out His divine anger on me and those close to me.
Now the better part of a decade of having one’s death prayed for, and being on the receiving end of all manner of imprecation can have a salutary effect of thickening one’s skin. Some of the best advice I ever got when I entered the vortex of public life was on the importance of developing that thick skin, and of never letting insults or imprecations throw me off my game, especially in a political climate where the cynical manufacture of phony outrage has become a routine staple of our debased discourse. If I had blown a gasket every time I got an e-mail telling me that my death was being prayed for, or calling down the ill will of God on me, my family, and those close to me, I would never have been able to get any work done, either as a public official or in my private sector occupation.
Perhaps ironically, my own remedy for being prayed against is prayer itself, quiet, private, centering prayer which, pace my atheist and agnostic friends, can be a marvelously effective, powerfully prophylactic way of clearing the emotional cache and repairing the spiritual registry, so to speak. Thus, I cannot associate myself with those who believe in a “prayer warrior” ethos that prefers imprecation to intercession or petitions for prosperity to the meditative emptying of self and ego that ought to characterize walking humbly before God (Micah 6:8). Such an ethic of humble emptying, sadly, seems absent from those who believe that prayer is just another kind of M-16.
So, perhaps, I bristle when I hear the phrase “prayer warriors.” Not only does the phrase call to mind an approach to the divine which seems rather out of character with the broad tenets of the faith a majority of Americans continue to profess, but also suggests a certain predisposition toward militancy that causes one to entertain a certain concern that beyond vocal militancy lies direct action. The person who believes that he were she is God’s chosen instrument is but a step or two removed from being willing to go from prayer to provocation, being willing to take the phrase “Church militant” all too literally.
For in the end, a militant “prayer warrior” ethic that seeks to enlist God and prayer as activists for a particular temporal cause only winds up giving prayer --- and people of faith --- a bad name. Those who call themselves “prayer warriors” would remember that we Christians confess a Savior Whom we proclaim to be Prince of Peace, not of war.
-xxx-
Paul S. Marchand is an attorney who lives and works in Cathedral City, California. The views expressed herein are his own, and do not necessarily reflect the views of any organization or entity with which he is associated. They are not intended as, and should not be construed as either religious instruction or legal advice, although he would note as gratuitous counsel that when you kneel to pray, use a prie dieu, it’s a lot easier on the knees, particularly in middle age.
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