by Ethan Johnson
November 17, 2007
Don't pray when it rains if you don't pray when the sun shines. - Satchel Paige
While I was on my sojourn to Chicagoland, I heard a news report about Georgia's drought problems, which famously culminated in Governor Sonny Perdue hosting a prayer breakfast to pray for rain. One couple interviewed for the piece affirmed that they in fact brought umbrellas and rain gear to the event because they were convinced that the sheer power of prayer (their prayers, to be specific) would compel the skies to darken and years of drought to be erased in an afternoon. Putting the prayer thing aside for a moment, I think these folks need a crash lesson (on paper) as to why that might be as problematic - or worse - as the drought.
But picking the prayer angle up again, and specifically the cock-sure attitude displayed by this couple as to the efficacy of their prayers, I normally would opine simply, "these Christians do not know their Christ." However, I'll go a step further and note that these Bible-toters do not know their Bible. And I have to ask, parenthetically, why am I the one who knows this stuff when I don't have years of church-going, prayer breakfasts, and Bible study under my belt?
We turn now to Matthew 6:1-6:34, as told by the King James Bible:
5 And when thou prayest, thou shalt not be as the hypocrites are: for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and in the corners of the streets, that they may be seen of men. Verily I say unto you, They have their reward.
6 But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret; and thy Father which seeth in secret shall reward thee openly.
As I have seen noted here and there, the rains came to Georgia, but with some perhaps unforeseen side-effects:
The roof of a Baptist church in Tennessee's Marion County was heavily damaged, said Jeremy Heidt of the Tennessee Emergency Management Agency. Three children were hurt by flying glass and were taken to hospitals, said Heidt.
The Bad Astronomer asks:
Knowing full well that the people who sponsored the prayer would take responsibility if it had been a nice gentle rain, what will they say to this?
Er, ummm, God works in mysterious ways, and uh, oh look! A cross was formed out of the wreckage! It's a sign!
Indeed, the throng (or some percentage of it) was fully prepared to take full credit for any drop of rain that fell on Georgia following their prayer service. And despite my earlier restraint, I will indeed say that these Christians do not know their Christ. Matthew 4:
5 Then the devil taketh him up into the holy city, and setteth him on a pinnacle of the temple,
6 And saith unto him, If thou be the Son of God, cast thyself down: for it is written, He shall give his angels charge concerning thee: and in their hands they shall bear thee up, lest at any time thou dash thy foot against a stone.
7 Jesus said unto him, It is written again, Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God.
Temptation, religion, prayer, God all aside, what amused and annoyed me about the prayer vigil was the confession by many that frankly, they hadn't served as very good stewards of the land, and could have done more to conserve what water they did have rather than resorting to praying for more. I was stunned to learn that despite the drought crisis, many towns in Georgia were only "considering" implementing some sort of water conservation measures, such as outright bans or restricted watering times. For all of the heat (literal and figurative) that Texas takes for a great many things, one thing that our county (if not state) gets right is an immediate crackdown on extraneous water usage at the first signs of a shortfall. We don't have an ocean or huge lake in our part of the state, so if Lake Lewsiville dries up, so does a good percentage of our water supply. We can live with brown grass for a summer. Really.
In fact, when our water table returned to a favorable level, the county continued its watering restrictions for weeks or months afterward. Today, to my knowledge, all watering restrictions have been lifted, to a fault. I saw a sign yesterday advising customers that the shopping center waters their grass "several times a day" (!!) and apologized for any inconvenience. Well, I know I'd stop shopping there if I couldn't play golf on their parking lot islands. Oh wait.
If one is inclined to resort to prayer in hopes of closing a gap of some sort, might I suggest this old standby, which has worked like a charm for the Texas oil industry for years:
Lord, grant me one more boom. I promise not to blow it this time.
Call me cynical, but I fully expect to see images of happy Georgia residents spraying water all over the place needlessly to celebrate the next rainfall. Keep those prayer mats handy. <EM>
