To Pray or Not to Pray?

By Henry Schulte

To Pray or Not to Pray?

That is the question.

Fifty-two years ago, my father took me and my siblings on a trip to Tahiti. It wasn’t so much to take us on vacation but rather to try and convince me not to get married two months hence. He was hoping I might find a nice Tahitian girl to give me second thoughts.

That didn’t happen. I enjoyed the “family” trip and appreciated Tahiti. For whatever reason, my father asked all of us if we were willing to leave a day early. It was unanimous. We were ready to go home. After we got back to the states, we learned our original scheduled flight crashed into the ocean killing everyone, except one lucky passenger.

This all came back to me with the recent crash of Air India, also with a lone survivor.

I’m mystified when I ask myself how it was that my entire family agreed to leave early and avoid death. Could the two survivors of the flights half a century apart be called divine intervention? If so, where was the divine intervention for all those who died? What made those two men and my family unique in that we had been spared?

I went on to marry my high school sweetheart. My father gave us six months. Had we taken our booked flight it would never have been even one day. I would not have two daughters and two grandkids. My brothers and sisters would not have had their own children and grandchildren. For those who died, no one will ever know what awaited them.

Or was that always their predetermined fate?

Over the years I’ve had other things occur that confused me about the likelihood of a higher power. In one case, to this day, I can clearly remember every detail. I was a teenager; my mortality was something far, far away. I was climbing up the side of a vertical cliff when the rock I grabbed pulled away and I began falling backwards. I knew it was over. Then suddenly, a soft gentle push was applied to my back, and I was placed carefully against the cliff. I clung there for a few minutes trying to comprehend what had just happened. I climbed down and never did anything like that again.

I am but one person, but our lives are important to each of us. We instinctively don’t want to die.

We are inundated with stories of death nearly every waking hour. We have become nearly numb hearing about 18 killed in a bombing, 60 drowned in flooding, 100 dead after an earthquake, thousands killed daily in various accidents. On a larger scale, 200,000 drowned by a tsunami. It goes on every day, and I tell myself when I hear such numbers, there’s a me and you in those tragedies.

Many turn to prayer in times of crisis or when we’re faced with our possible demise. I firmly believe prayer gives solace where otherwise there would be an empty void.

Nevertheless, I have mixed feelings about prayer.

People use prayer for thousands of reasons. We could pray for the 200 plus souls who died in the India plan crash but then it’s too late for them. We can pray for the sole survivor, but he’s going to live on another day. We can pray for all the family and friends of those who died but it won’t bring anyone back.

Lest you get me wrong, I’m not against prayer, I’m just not sold on its power.

I touched on this before. About a year ago I reluctantly went back to church after being absent for some thirty years. My wife wanted to start attending and I told myself (not her) I would go to support her. I’ve grown to enjoy those quiet moments and have become friends with the priest. If it were not for him, I likely wouldn’t still be going.

It’s not the regimented mass of old. It’s personable and interactive. Almost safe to say it’s fun. And I know he’s going to read this column, as will another good religious friend, and we’ll have something to discuss over a lunch.

During the priest’s mass there’s a time set aside for parishioners to say their prayers out loud. They vary from praying for a dying friend or relative to hoping for a good surgical outcome. It engages the entire congregation and it’s good. By voicing those feelings, it lends more strength to your prayer and allows you to share with others who pray along with you.

Turning to present day; When President Trump ordered the air strike on Iran, a bunch of prayers were likely said that it wouldn’t result in a third world war. Many prayed for Trump and supported his actions. Many others prayed for Trump’s death. I would like to believe good will always reign over evil so I’m going to hope the prayers of hate went unheard. Trump’s actions likely could have saved millions of lives in the future so prayers of thanks could be said for that as well.

I go back and forth about prayer.

I can certainly see its importance and its overwhelming need; however, I try and understand how we can pray for, say, someone who is dying, pray they will survive, and then they die anyway. Our thoughts then shift to, “It was destined to be” or “They’re in a better place now.”

We can rationalize anything

It means prayer is flexible. Metaphorically pliable. And maybe that’s as it should be.

Were my family and I getting prayers we didn’t know about from my mother, so that we all returned home safe from Tahiti? Then what about other friends and family that were praying for the safe return of their own who ended up dying in the crash? Did the survivor of that Tahiti flight and the Air India crash receive super prayers from places unknown?

Trillions of prayers encircle our small planet 24/7 and yet we continue to be inundated with so much death and destruction.

Will things ever settle down?

We can only pray.