Why Our Prayers are Necessary

Pittsburgh. Christchurch. Sri Lanka. San Diego. The amount of religious violence in the modern world is dizzying and only seems to be growing. This violence underscores the equally tragic persecution of religious minorities the world over, oftentimes to nearly genocidal levels. Religious persecution and violence has grown so normalised that it’s fallen out of the headlines despite its near constant presence, particularly in the Middle East.

When we do find out about these attacks, there tend to be a few common responses. The first is the most obviously unhelpful, counterproductive and disturbing—the demonization of the perpetrator’s religion, especially if the attacker happens to be Muslim. After any radical Islamist attack, a few right-wing MPs will invariably use the opportunity to rail against Islam and present it as a religion at eternal conflict with “Western values.” Needless to say, this only feeds into the narrative of the extremists and gives credence to the “clash of civilisations” ideology that enables these attacks.

The second response flips the first one on its head: a squeamish refusal to name religion as the source of conflict. Calling attacks on temples, synagogues and churches a “tragedy” isn’t enough. Expressing your “deep sadness” isn’t enough, particularly not in these cases, where a particular religious group is targeted for their beliefs. This type of attack invokes hateful rhetoric to justify violence in a house of worship, and a failure to acknowledge the gravity of religious violence denies the root of the evil at play here—an insidious hatred.

The third type of response, similarly, is well-meaning, I suppose. It is best encapsulated by Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez’s response to the Christchurch shooting—“What good are your thoughts and prayers when they don’t even keep the pews safe?” For context, she’s referencing the failure of American policymakers to take action against gun violence in the wake of school and church shootings all over the country. In the broadest sense, there tends to be significant public outcry for gun control after any shooting. Specifically in cases of religious violence, though, these responses are just as unhelpful as ignoring the role of faith altogether.

For starters, even if you support gun control, there’s no reason to denigrate the role of “thoughts and prayers” in our response to these tragedies. Offering “thoughts and prayers,” when sincere, is an attempt to show solidarity with the victims, to comfort them and to ask God for healing. There is no reason to exclude the role of faith from the healing process, and it would in fact be callous to do so—for many, our first reaction to tragedy is shock. We need time to process trauma, to let our faith take its place in this tragedy, and simply stand with the victims. The first step is not passing an assault rifle ban through Congress—it is standing shoulder-to-shoulder with the victims and being proximate with them.

AOC’s response is particularly distressing given its context. One should not deny the importance of prayer immediately after a house of worship has been attacked. Similarly, people who have just been attacked for their faith do not need to hear that “thoughts and prayers are not enough.” No political cause, however noble, should reject the place of grief and prayer in coping with tragedy.

I don’t say this as an NRA crony. In fact, I’d say I’m far from it—I strongly support an assault rifle ban, comprehensive and universal background checks, closing the gun show loophole and even controversial red flag laws. But I do say it as a person of faith who understands the importance of standing with the victims of violence and offering our shared belief in the transcendent during times of pain. 

That doesn’t mean we should abandon the cause of gun control, of course. To the contrary—concrete action to end gun violence should supplement thoughts and prayers. And, in fact, they must be. But I think that, in their desire to create actual policy change, some people have tried to degrade the value of prayer here. Their frustration is understandable, but when a church or temple or mosque is attacked, we need to make a space for prayer and should never shove it out of the mourning process. Prayer has the capacity to shape the lives of countless people. If it didn’t, there would be no religion to begin with.

Regardless of our politics, we must first acknowledge the true and deepest source of the problem: hatred. We must then proceed to comfort and console the victims in their time of need, through yes, “thoughts and prayers.” And last, but not least, we must move towards change, like New Zealand did. In that order.