Let me pray for you.

(Warning: I don't actually believe in intercessory prayer)

Aaron Burden/Unsplash

“I don't believe in an interventionist god
But I know, darling, that you do.”

—Nick Cave, “Into My Arms”

Everyone has been doing that “ask me anonymous questions” thing through Instagram and Twitter lately. The most popular version is NGL, which stands for “Not Gonna Lie.” People hope to hear from anonymous crushes, answer pressing questions, or just pass the time.

I’m hesitant to do anything involving anonymous questions or comments. Firstly, I think you should be bold enough to admit crushes or ask intense questions or slide into the DMs of someone openly. Secondly, I have a bad history with this. I used to have a feature on a Tumblr blog of mine that allowed people to send in anonymous questions, and people would ask genuine and in-depth questions about polyamory and Christianity and mental health, all things I’m happy to answer, and despite my belief that more and more people should be open about these things and not hide them for the sake of family or children, I understand the need for anonymity.

But people began sending in comments like “your husband doesn’t want to be polyamorous” and “you’re ruining your children’s lives” and “polyamory is unstable” and “you’re mentally unstable” which I found horrifying. This was pretty private too, so it was likely actual friends sending me these comments instead of just strangers, which haunts me to this day. So I have since said to myself, no way. I don’t want anonymous DMs from married monogamous men trying to cheat, and I don’t want insults from my “friends” who are too afraid to say anything directly to me.

Yesterday, however, I attended a church service to see my friend Anthony Gaboton preach one last sermon in Richmond before heading off to seminary two hours north of here. He is a person who I respect deeply on a spiritual level and have learned a lot from. The church was a small Episcopalian one in the middle of a neighborhood, with all the pomp and circumstance that Episcopalians love so much.

Outside the church, I noticed a prayer box — it looked like one of those little library things. During uhhhh, prayer time (sorry, my liturgical terminology fails me yet) they actually read these prayer requests out loud, and for a small church, I was surprised that they actually got more than a few. I wonder how many they get each week when I’m not there.

It made me think about how powerful this small tool was, and how desperate people are to slip in prayer requests into an anonymous box each week, hoping for their problems to be alleviated, just wanting someone to notice them, too scared to walk directly into a church or tell anyone their full problems. They want something to hide behind, because people are ultimately afraid of revealing themselves in personal and intimate ways. Maybe that’s the same reason people want to ask people questions anonymously, and why people seek out to have questions answered anonymously in the first place.

I’ve never seriously struggled with a belief in God, but I’ve definitely struggled with the idea of prayer being real. Whether it’s Christianity or another religion or “good energy” or “good vibes” there’s no distinguishable difference in people who pray or don’t pray when it comes to having their prayers heard and answered. We all know good people who have had tragic events occur to them despite intercessory prayer, and there’s no theological answer that satisfies me — nor none that should, in my opinion. I’m not interested in religious people who are happy to justify the death of a child to cancer as God’s will, or come up with reasons as to why that child’s parents’ prayers went ignored.

My mother recently accused me of not having faith in God because I am pessimistic when it comes to my children’s future in a world where no one is doing anything to fix climate change, where fascism is on the rise, where liberals and progressives do little to help us, and where the end of humanity seems to be getting closer. I find it grating that listening to basic science and watching droughts, floods, and horrific weather events lead to increasing deaths every single day and some people (the same people who vote for this shit in the first place, no less) still think that God will wave a magic wand and fix a culture of man-made horrors beyond our wildest comprehensions. Sometimes I think that belief in an interventionist God is such a cop-out, man.

George Carlin once said, “I've begun worshipping the sun for a number of reasons. First of all, unlike some other gods I could mention, I can see the sun. It's there for me every day. And the things it brings me are quite apparent all the time: heat, light, food, and a lovely day. There's no mystery, no one asks for money, I don't have to dress up, and there's no boring pageantry. And interestingly enough, I have found that the prayers I offer to the sun and the prayers I formerly offered to 'God' are all answered at about the same 50% rate.” I used to be offended by this bit, but now, I just about agree.

My Christianity has become laser-focused on rituals. I love church. I love reading the Bible. I love sermons. I love traditions. It’s also laser-focused on direct action: social justice, forgiveness in my personal life, riots against the empire, and trying to emulate Christ even when it’s difficult for me to do so. But prayer? I’ve found prayer meaningless and difficult, even as I pray before my meals and recite the Lord’s Prayer at church and ask my children to pray for relatives before bedtime. (Is that bad parenting?)

But I confess to having been touched by this prayer box outside a small church yesterday. I confess also to having a tug at my heart to bring back prayer into my personal life. So, I wanted to offer my readers here a chance for a kind of online prayer box, so that I can pray for you. Let me be direct in that I don’t believe in intercessory prayer or an omnipotent creator, and I’m quite cynical on both of those things. But I’m willing to try. I’m willing to pray, and have faith, and use my free time to put words to God or the universe or just under my breath on the behalf of strangers.

I have a new website, and that website has a contact form. And so, I would like to pray for you. Use a fake email address and fake name, if you like. I won’t be posting these anywhere, and only I will see them. I won’t be reaching out or responding to you about it. I’ll just be praying. Once, at least. More often if I think of it. It doesn’t matter if you don’t really believe in prayer, because I don’t really believe in it either. I’m willing to be wrong, though. I’m always willing to be wrong.