Now this is how I take my sacrilege.
Jun 10th, 2009 by Pathogen
There was a point in my life where I believed in the power of prayer. Sure, god moved in mysterious ways which usually resulted in my prayers never being answered in a way that I wanted, understood, or could even recognize. I also recognized early on that prayer seldom made me feel better about a given situation. I’d like to think that I avoided the vapid, selfish, shallow types of prayers being lampooned in this video. But I also know better. Hell, what’s the point of having a direct line to god as a good Mormon boy if not to ask for some special treatment every now and then?
I managed to get to my early 20s before I put two and two together and realized that praying and not praying pretty much resulted in the same outcome. I know; I’m a slow learner.
I was “called” as an elder’s quorum president for the branch I attended while stationed in Okinawa. I was young (too young); at 23 years of age, barely married, enlisted (this tended to matter in terms of politics in the church), and having never served a mission, I was put in a precarious position to “lead” men in my church that were in some respects much older, more experienced and knowledgeable, and I felt better geared for that calling. I’m not sure what the branch president or the district president were thinking at the time, but they felt I was the best choice; selected by god, of course. It was bullshit.
Regardless, I accepted the calling because, well, that’s what good Mormon boys do. I was always taught in church that you don’t turn down callings. If the church leaders go through the trouble of selecting you, then it’s already ordained by god. I wasn’t happy to take it, but I put my faith in them and god. However, I was promised one thing. And this was a doozie: given my age, rank, and status, I was guaranteed that whomever I prayed for and called as my first and second councilors, the branch and district president would accept my choices without push-back. Oh how naive was I?
I prayed diligently for the two men that would best help me lead this quorum. When I was confident that I had made two solid selections and felt comfortable with my choices, I approached my elders and was almost immediately denied. God apparently had plans for these two men that He didn’t bother to tell me about in all of my prayers. And so it would go with my next four selections. That’s right; I had been denied not only my first and second choices, but a third as well. At no point did I ever get the sense that I was choosing poorly. Not only that, I was flat out lied to by my elders. At no point did they indicate that things had changed or that there were others they had in mind. What the hell was the point of the whole exercise of me going home, praying, choosing, and then coming back only to be slapped down?
Looking back, that situation was the solidifying moment where I realized that prayer is an absolute farce. I didn’t realize it at that time, of course. I maintained my commitment. But I would be lying if I didn’t say that my faith had been shaken by that whole ridiculous scenario. I continued to pray for a while after that. I even prayed after I left the Mormon church; for a period, any way. I prayed because I still believed in a god; particularly the Christian god. Personally, I don’t have anything against prayer for others. Anything that helps you get by in this world is fine with me as long as it doesn’t hurt other people. Just don’t expect any outcome other than what would happen had you not prayed at all.
I know I sound bitter; and maybe there’s some lingering about. I just hate wasted effort.
