What is the point of prayer without God?

I decided that I needed a larger filing cabinet for my office and made a deal to trade my two little ones for a larger one.

As always happens when you start moving things around, I inadvertently lost the space I had set aside on one of the little cabinets for my paper shredder and recycling box. Since the new cabinet was taller, I needed to find a new place for them.  I thought I would try balancing my recycling box on a narrow register where it did not fit very well.

When my secretary walked into my office to put something in the tottering recycling box, she remarked that it was a bit precarious, indicating it was in danger of falling.  I heartily agreed.

You can imagine my surprise when I learned in an article in the Reader’s Digest (April, 2014, How We Pray) that “The word pray is derived from the Latin word precarious, which means “to obtain by entreaty or begging.”  This could be used, for example, to say, “I pray you will continue reading.”

Our reference to precarious, however, was also accurate as used to indicate something is lacking foundation or unstable.

Anyway, that is not really my point. It is just a long way to get to my actual point about the article.  In it they quoted Americans speaking about prayer and said that 86 percent of us pray.  I initially thought that sounded pretty good, until I learned how we apparently view prayer.  

One man said he sees prayer as a way to talk to God directly, that he speaks with him as a friend.  The Catholic contribution was on the Rosary and the Holy Mother.  Aside from the awkward allusion to Mary as a “higher power,” I couldn’t argue with prayer as communicating to God directly or the importance of the Rosary.

I think the article went off track with the Jewish couple.  Apparently they both grew up as nonobservant Jews and wanted something more for their children.  Now you and I might think that means a deeper faith, since they put their kids in Hebrew school, but they did this “not because we had an overwhelming spiritual belief,” but because they wanted community and a Jewish identity (not that there is anything wrong with wanting either of these, of course.)

I thought, at least they were trying, until I read on. They explained that when they say their Sabbath prayers, they don’t use God or Lord, but rather, Creator.  Why?  

Because “‘Even if I don’t believe in God,’ she said, ‘I didn’t create my own self.  Prayer is a way of reminding myself of that and teaching my children to remember a position of humility.  It’s a way of recognizing the bigness of things so far beyond ourselves.  I don’t think that’s a man with a beard who has a plan, but I do believe that things are a lot bigger than any one of us. That attitude has been tremendously helpful to me in good and bad times.’”

I am starting to realize that for some people, prayer isn’t about being in a relationship with God, but simply a helpful practice in mindfulness. It is about making me a better person.  It is about making me calm and peaceful. 

Is that what prayer is about? Could our cultural tendency toward egoism (“it’s all about me”) be redefining prayer? We do seem to be big on redefining things these days, don’t we?

Anyway, I think I am finally beginning to understand how people who do not believe in God can say they pray.  I have always been confused by this, for if I take God out of the equation, then who, or what am I praying to? If prayer is supposed to include adoration and love, or even petition, who are we adoring, loving, and petitioning, if not God?

I can see now, that it is not the who, or the what, but the why. 

The Reader’s Digest article continued, acknowledging that prayer is practiced by people who have separated it from “religion or spirituality.”  Atheists and agnostics can take it to be “a means of projecting goodwill into the world.”  You focus your mind “on a hopeful outcome” by thinking about “the people you love and your wishes for them,” with the hope that “maybe that will put beneficial energy out there.”

Oh, if it were only true that I could have this kind of power emanating from my mind.

Sarcasm aside, a New Jersey mom said that she doesn’t give thanks to God, but she does “try to stop and give thanks for things throughout the day” for the sunrise, her kids and dogs. Who is she giving thanks, too, the cosmos?

Another family does not say grace, but they do “hold hands and smile at each other in a moment of gratitude for being together.”  How sweet, but who are they expressing this gratitude to? 

To add to this feeble perception of prayer, the article concluded by noting that people who do not identify with a particular religion use the word prayer ‘to describe an emotional psychological space that holds both anxiety and hope.’

Pray tell, does our evolving definition of prayer seem precarious to you?

[The Catholic Weekly & Times,  July 19-25, 2014]