Thoughts & Prayers

I have a confession to make: at times, I have been uncharitable when I hear the phrase “thoughts and prayers,” usually in response to some terrible tragedy. My particular sin revolves around the first part: thoughts. I have been known to ask people using such an expression, “what thoughts?” or “how do you think your thoughts are helping?”

Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa (Latin for “my bad!”)

It’s not that I don’t understand the concept of “thinking ” about someone. When I was a youngster and phones had rotary dials, people you cared for were sometimes too far away to visit, or too expensive to call. They would send a greeting card saying, “I’m thinking of you!” which was a special treat to receive. Of course they weren’t doing this because of some recent or impending tragedy; they simply meant “I miss you.”

But today people respond to tragedies among people they do not know (hence they do not miss) with “thoughts and prayers.” Thinking positively can help your health, but there is no scientific evidence your good thoughts help anybody else. Hence my uncharitable thoughts. I welcome the thoughts (and prayers!) of any of my respected friends who can enlighten me more on this usage, as I struggle to do better.

As to the second half of the formulation, I often respond to tragedy or misfortune by saying, “I will keep you in my prayers.” It’s become commonplace to deride this saying as insufficient. Here’s the mayor of Minneapolis about the recent church/school shooting there:

This complaint is echoed in editorials and social media posts, sometimes by people who neither believe in God or in prayer. I would like to address the rest of this post to them.

For those who don’t believe in God or prayer, it’s easy to understand their frustration. I wouldn’t expect them to say something positive about prayers, but why deride what others do believe in? If you truly respect others’ beliefs, show that. But many will argue it’s not about the prayers alone, it’s about the lack of actions. Here’s where I can help.

Take a minute, and answer this question in a single, short sentence: What is prayer?

If you said, “prayer is asking God for something” you’re talking about petitionary prayer, so you’re partly correct. But in general, it’s much simpler than that: prayer is communicating with God. Or even talking and listening to God. God is all-powerful (omnipotent), all-knowing (omniscient), and thus He needs nothing. But He is also all-loving. When we say God is Love we mean He can do no other than love us. All he wants from us is a relationship. There is nothing we can give Him, because He needs nothing. What we can do is to love Him in return. And how do you show love? By being in a relationship. Talking to the other. Listening to the other. Doing what the other likes, because they like it, not necessarily because you like it or even want to do it. Those are hallmarks of a relationship, and of love.

As children, most Christians are taught that petitionary prayer is also a way of taking to God: telling Him what we want. Now God already knows what we want, you’re not giving Him any news, but just like any other relationship, God enjoys you actually telling Him, even if He already knows. Why? Because it’s a relationship. When a husband asks a wife how her day went, nine-times-out-of-ten he already knows the answer. He still enjoys hearing her tell him.

Perhaps people whose faith (or religious instruction) never advanced beyond childhood don’t realize this, but petitionary prayer is really about aligning your wants with God’s designs. You may ask for a promotion, but God knows if He grants it, you’ll become work-obsessed, get divorced, and fail your family. You might be angry (even at God) about not receiving the promotion, but God had other plans for you. It’s ok to ask for things, but always with the proviso “Your Will, not mine, be done!”

When I say I’m praying for someone as a result of a personal tragedy, it means I’m talking to God. Asking Him to help me understand why such a thing happened. Asking His Mercy on the souls now in His hands, and even on the person/s responsible. Asking He send His Holy Spirit to console those mourning. God knows all this, of course, and is doing it. He delights that I am trying in my limited, human way to imitate Him, extending my condolences and compassion (literally, to suffer with), and asking Him what–if anything–we can do about the tragedy. That last part is important. God knows how to change our hearts to prevent such tragedies; we don’t. We need to ask Him, and listen to what He tells us.

So when people suggest prayer is passive, I realize they just don’t understand prayer. That’s okay, they’re groping for answers too. I like to point out that when something terrible happens (like the mass murder in Minnesota) and people trot out new rules or regulations, I often ask: would this rule have stopped what just happened? If not, why is it an answer to the problem? If we’re just trying to look like we’re doing something, how is that better (than “passive” prayer)?

If you have opinions on “thoughts,” please do share them with me. If you have heard others disparaging prayers, please feel free to explain praying to them. We can all do with a little more understanding.