Prayer

Republished, with permission, from Voice magazine, March-April, 2011.

By Dan Fredericks

Prayer. Who doesn’t believe in it? Who doesn’t, in some form or another, engage in it? With the exception of a few self-deceived and self-deluded atheists/agnostics, prayer is universally accepted and valued, or so it would seem. Even the seemingly hardest-hearted, unbelieving atheist would actually welcome prayer on his behalf, despite his unbelief. After all, the adage, “There are no atheists in fox holes” largely holds true.

For the most part, I am encouraged by our national and local leaders who speak of the importance of prayer and even call upon the nation to pray. When tragedies shock the nation, expressions soon follow of “thoughts and prayers” on behalf of all impacted. Yet at the same time, I harbor a healthy skepticism, knowing that not all prayers are created equal.

Among true believers, it seems ironic that those who most vocally espouse prayer often neglect its practice. The “prayer meeting” seems to be dropping off the local church calendar at an alarming rate. And those who still hold a midweek prayer meeting often clutter it up with any number of other time-consuming activities so that little praying actually takes place. Admittedly, at times I have been guilty of this.read more

On the evening of March 30, 2002, in the city of Atlanta, Georgia, the Indiana Hoosiers upset the Oklahoma Sooners in a “Final Four” contest of the NCAA men’s basketball tournament. Following the game, Indiana coach, Mike Davis, credited God for giving Indiana University the victory. “I have a lot of people praying for me,” he told the press, “God has placed His favor on me.”

Let me be the last to object to any praise going to God in the media. A man steps up to the microphone and declares that God factors into his view of the world, including the world of basketball—I’m with that! I lauded Mike Davis’ courage to proclaim his faith to the world on that occasion and I laud him still.

But I must admit, as a man of faith, that I’m growing increasingly uncomfortable with the array of athletes and coaches announcing through a microphone their euphoric gratitude to God moments after an athletic victory over their opponents. My discomfort has nothing to do with bringing God into the sports world—he’s there anyway, kudos to those who acknowledge reality. My discomfort stems more from the message that seems to be subtly communicated by such public expressions of divine adulation.

I fear the message is conveyed that God plays favorites, dolling out victories like a cosmic vending machine to those willing to acknowledge Him publicly as the dispenser of their triumphs. I’m also troubled by the fear that thoughtful viewers may well ask why God refuses to hear prayers offered in behalf of losing teams? And why did, in this instance, coach Davis and his Hoosiers lose the championship game two nights later? Did their prayers fail between Saturday and Monday evenings? Did God’s favor, which rested on Davis’ head on Saturday, dissipate by Monday night? Did Coach Davis, his team, or some obnoxious Hoosier fan somewhere do something wrong on the Sunday sandwiched between those two game days?read more

The ancient philosopher Epicurus (341-270 BC) struck upon a novel idea for attaining happiness. Pagans typically lived in fear of the gods and scrambled about like so many unabashed brown-nosers placating the deities at every opportunity. Epicurus drew the conspicuous conclusion that such a life-orientation was the mother of all sorts of misery. Little argument from anyone on that point, but what was a pagan to do?

Epicurus proposed two ideas to sidestep this misery. First, he insisted that although there were indeed many gods flitting about the supernatural realm, they had no interest in the natural realm. His point: Don’t waste your life appeasing the gods when they broker utterly no influence.

But what about the afterlife? Won’t we face an angry phalanx of gods then? Allaying this fear, Epicurus proposed his second idea: that the human soul ceases to exist at death; which is to say we are free of accountability to the gods in this life and the next. Thus Epicurus liberated pagans to eat, drink, and be merry because there was nothing to lose and all sorts of temporal happiness to gain.

A remaining problem

Epicurus failed to deal with one thorny problem, however. Liberation from responsibility to the gods might be well and good when all is well and good, but what about those times when all is far from well? If the gods care nothing about you when you wish them to leave you alone, can one rationally expect them to suddenly fly to his aid when he needs their help? Hardly.read more