On Thoughts and Prayers

Whenever there’s a time of national tragedy such as this time, whether we are reeling at the sad and horrific murder of Charlie Kirk yesterday, or remembering the ghastly terror attacks of September 11, 2001, at this 24th anniversary of the event, or the brutal murder of a Ukrainian refugee on a subway just a few days ago, or the killing of children in a Minneapolis chapel just a short time before that—my, there have been lots of brutal killings lately, and men’s hearts failing them from fear—there are public figures and others expressing their sympathy and heartfelt sorrow by saying in part that their thoughts and prayers are with the victims and their families. And lately I’ve noticed an increase among some on the left to mock that expression. It was especially galling to hear the mockery after the killing of schoolchildren who were at prayer when they were killed, as one politician blurted out something meant to ascribe futility to thoughts and prayers, something like, “They were praying right then!” As if to say there’s no use in praying, it does no good. An old Led Zeppelin lyric comes to mind: “Cryin’ won’t help ya; prayin’ won’t do ya no good.”

Such sentiments are heartless, adding to the sorrows of the bereaved faithful, not because they are true, but because they add insult to injury. And they show a miserable failure on the part of the mockers to understand why we pray at such times.

We pray because we have suddenly come face to face, once again, with the unmistakable truth that we are helpless in the midst of such wickedness. What the mockers do not know is that they are helpless too, just like us. They see tragedy and terror as an opportunity to insist all the more loudly on their pet projects, such as, usually in this case, gun control. But even if they succeeded in advancing their pet agendas, whatever they are, they could never succeed in bringing an end to wickedness afoot in the world. It has been afoot since if first showed up in the Garden of Eden. And we are, all of us, both they and we, quite helpless.

Helpless in ourselves, that is. Our help, rather, is in the name of the Lord who made heaven and earth.

And so we pray, and will pray, without ceasing, because we know the name of the Lord and we take refuge in it, as did Charlie Kirk, and as did those little ones praying in Minneapolis. And though we may die, yet shall we live, for Christ our Help is risen from the dead.

And to the mockers I say, we pray for you, too, for we are grieved that you are so lost and unable to see that you are utterly helpless, and as much in need of the help of the Lord as we are. Only the help of the Lord can rescue us, even eternally, from the bullet of a sniper, or the knife of a madman, or the mayhem of mass destruction. When these things happen, it is right that we make the sign of the cross and pray Deliver us from evil.

For it is abundantly clear today that we cannot deliver ourselves.