The Prayers of Nonbelievers

There is no Church for nonbelievers. There is no prayer circut for the poets who don't believe in God, the intellectuals who do not accept religious doctrine, the scientists who do not engage in a community of worship outside their microscopes. There is no laying on of hands or group mission statements for nonbelievers in a certain God or divine spirit. No wafer or blood to drink, no sins to confess to priests, no ' special religion ' as Anne Sexton said, to keep our spirits moving toward enlightement and our daily lives moving toward the divine in ourselves. Mr. Curry and I drive by the churches, their white painted walls and enormous wooden crosses and startling proclamations on rectangular billboards ' GOD WILL NOT FORGIVE IF YOU DO NOT ASK '.
We drive by a Catholic church often that has an entryway into the parking lot with twin winged lions on each side, rising up in their righteousness, and I feel a keen longing for a homecoming of a kind I do not think likely I will ever have. A mass of people desiring to serve without irony, to love without mocking or dividing or excluding, to use the oldest human traditions to ' keep the mind safe ', as Kate Mcrae's mother says in an absolutely heart wrenching and beautiful CaringBridge journal - the traditions of prayer, of song, of beauty to lift up the potential of man, of repetition to divine the energy, of art to see the angles of the elephant, of gatherings with common goals to nourish the infant cry seed of human desire to bond, to find safety in the net of community, friendship, family. We are in this together. We are all going to face demons.

My Nana gave me a prayer book she dated next to her signature as 1976, when I would have been 2 years old. It's called Just A Minute, Lord and has prayers like this one:

Make Me Well Soon

Lord,
I hate being sick
even it's just the flu
or a bad cold.
I get panicky thinking
about what it must be like
being in bed
for weeks or months.
Give me the strength you had
when you suffered pain.
Remind me of the people you healed
while on earth.
If it is your will,
make me well soon.
Soon, Lord,
If you don't mind?

This may be a book written by Christians for very small children, but the simple and earnest prayers that fill it's pages touch my heart deeply, because they are the cries of not only the very young but the teen, the middle aged, the elderly- of human beings. Crying out to the Universe in prayer, oftentimes in our most vulnerable place, our beds, for relief from the pain of rejection, for the strength not to judge others ( Help Me Unlabel, Lord ), the courage to help those in need, the love to love even when it's the last thing we feel we can do.

I remember vividly: laying open the yellow prayer book with it's 70's style illustrations, reading the prayers in my mind, silently, or whispered out loud, cautiously, and hoping beyond hope that somewhere, someone was listening and loving me. If not me, at least the idea of me. That would do. Someone, something, somewhere, who cared. I did not have high expectations.

One of the prayers in this book brings tears to my eyes. The nostalgia is overwhelming, the memories horrible and tender, and the message still so true for me today. It's called ' Lord, I'm Worried About People. ' I am worried about people, this week, all the time. I think I could use a prayer for a nonbeliever. Are you worried about people= Would you like to pray with me to the enternal Universe and to the central Spirit and dignity and love and suffering inherent to human existence? OK.

Yo. This Is The Prayer of the Nonbelievers Who Believe In Love

Babies in their bassinets, in cancer wards, NICU, NeuroUnit, homes, without the spiritual ferocity of love translated into the constant presence of touch.

- love, i give myself to you, to your pain, your suffering, your humble servitude. Love, I ask
you to give me the strength and will to reach out and make a difference, even when I am
afraid of looking ridiculous, unforgiveably sincere, unflatteringly pedantic.

(Love, hear our prayer )

Elderly people stuck in nursing home and long care facilities and hospitals and hospice who
feel scared, humiliated, abandoned, ridiculed, abused or generally given the raw deal at the end
ofsee in the face of an elderly person the face of my future, to see the face of a human being,
not just a set of ideals I'm already sure I don't agree with.


- Love, i ask you to help me reach out to the elderly in my community. Love, please help me
the elderly go before me in line, even when I do not want to because my children are fighting
and I'm late to work. Love, help me to smile, to touch a hand, to pick up a fallen object, to
help bring friendship to older people, not leaving them out of the community because of prejudice,
not excluding them from aside comments, jokes, knowing looks, or other forms of human bonding,
but instead becoming more increasinly inclusive.


(Love, hear our prayer )

Mothers and Fathers dying before their children are grown. Michelle L, with metatastic
breast cancer and son Connor and daughter Chloe and husband, to every woman and man
having to say the hardest goodbye.

-Love, I ask you to help me to have the courage to reach out even when I am afraid of saying
the wrong thing, of insulting, or of embarrasing. Help me to remember that connection is
not embarrasing, that love is not reduntant or unecessary for anyone, and that I, just as
much as anyone, can offer it. Help me to be unselfish and face my own fears of death or
leaving my children as I see this pain and hear this agony.

( Love, hear our prayer )

Soldiers wounded, exploded, shot or disabled, soldiers mentally unstable or spiritually ravaged,
soldiers young and middle aged and old, soldiers man and women, and Love help us, children
and adults. Soldiers who never make it home.

- Love, I ask you to help me find ways to show soldiers my gratitude and compassion. Small
though they may be, help me to remember that nano is sometimes the largest compound.

( Love, hear our prayer )



May Love Be With You

( And Also With You )