Bin Laden Is Dead, President Obama Says – NYTimes.com
This week St Mark’s Episcopal Church of Berkeley wrestled with whether we should “love your enemies, pray for those who persecute you.”
After some reflection, I can think of two reasons why we might not want to pray for Osama bin Laden. The first reason is that we pray for those things we have reason to believe that God wants and wills. To pray for Osama bin Landen would, it follows, be praying for something WE know God would not like or will or want.
The second reason is that, while we know that we SHOULD pray for bin Laden, while we know that praying for bin Laden is the RIGHT THING to do; we also know that there are many members of our congregations whose conscience would be wounded should we pray for bin Laden. Following First Corinthians 8, in respect for the weaker brother and sister, we will refrain from praying for bin Laden, even though we (the theologically sophisticated) know that we should.
The first reason seems right. But it is wrong. It seems right because it seems transparent that God would be against bin Laden. And, yet, theologically, we know that this is wrong.
There is no one righteous, not even one;
11there is no one who understands,
no one who seeks God.
12All have turned away,
they have together become worthless;
there is no one who does good,
not even one.”c
Romans 3:10-12
Actually, I think what really stands behind this objection is the animistic belief that we have power to force God’s hand; that God will provide whatever we pray for and will withhold those things on which we are silent. Were we to pray for bin Laden’s soul, God might actually save it; whereas, if we withhold our prayers, God will send him to Hell.
This, however, displays a fundamental misunderstanding of prayer. Prayer is a means of communicating with God. It is not a quid pro quo; not a this for that. The “sacrifice” of prayer is not offered “in exchange” for some “thing” that God is otherwise “indisposed to grant”; as though we were coercing God. Rather, prayer entails our seeking God’s will; and we know that God’s will is our good. But, we also know that our good is often something we do not will. Which is why we pray “thy will be done.”
In the case of bin Laden, however, God’s will is transparent. We are to “love our enemies” and “pray for those who persecute” us. So, in this instance, the only explanation for our reluctance to pray must be that we DO NOT WANT WHAT GOD WANTS; instead WE WANT WHAT GOD DOES NOT WANT.
Which is why the second reason holds more weight with me. Perhaps a member of the clergy—one of those “who knows” in the sense of I Cor. 8—is eager to push through some politically or theologically correct agenda—to pray for bin Laden—and so offend one of the weaker brothers or sisters for whom Christ died. It is better, says Paul, that we not eat meat; i.e., that we not pray for bin Laden, even though, theologically, praying for him would be completely justified.
The question here is whether liturgical prayer is the same thing as eating meat sacrificed to an idol. In some ways the second issue would appear to be far more important. After all, those whose consciences were hurt by sacrificial meats were, according to Paul, therein denying the Trinitarian formula; they were denying that there was only one God. Surely, no presbyter should give in on this central matter. And, yet, Paul counsels that they should.
Is prayer for bin Laden not of much less importance and, therefore, should it not be all the more easily sacrificed?
No. And, here is why. Whereas the Trinitarian formula is truly a part of theological aporia, loving our enemies and praying for those who persecute us is not. Thus, all of the New Testament authors, from Matthew through John, are consistent in their insistence that we pray for Rome’s rulers, the very people who crucified Jesus and who continued to persecute the Church. So, we should pray for Nero, but not for bin Laden? I do not know what hierarchy of values this reveals, but it is not good.
That fact is that how we pray reveals who we are and what we believe. Jesus’ challenge is therefore clear. In this command, Jesus is not addressing aporia as in I Cor. 8, but central dogma. Is your hatred of the enemy more important to you than your love of me? Choose.
I am saddened how St Mark’s chose today. I hope that they will choose differently tomorrow.