A handbook of Freethought

by Unknown

Prayer is Immoral.

It is immoral because it seeks to accomplish certain ends without using the proper means, or it tries to do what reason teaches us cannot be done. When some years ago we had yellow fever at Memphis the praying people all over this country united in supplicating the unknown to remove the plague; but notwithstanding their united petitions to a throne of grace and to “a prayer-answering God,” they utterly failed. The yellow fever remained until the angel of frost came and touched the air with its white wings of health.

Fred Douglass said he prayed for freedom twenty years, but received no answer until he prayed with his legs.

“Give us this day our daily bread,” is a childish superstition. What millions of poor women have starved to death with this prayer on their lips. Jesus made a prayer in the garden of Gethsemane which was not answered. Now if the son of God may pray and receive no answer, what can the common rank and file sinner expect?

When the native African sees an eclipse, he fancies some huge monster is attempting to devour the sun, or the moon, as the case may be. He resorts to his tom-tom, by which he hopes to frighten away the fearful monster. After the eclipse has passed away he turns to his skeptical brethren and says, “I told you so,” just as his more civilized brother who prays for rain, and after it comes, no matter whether it is a day or a month afterward, turns upon his incredulous friends, and asks them triumphantly, “Didn’t I tell you so?”

The tom-tom business in Africa and Christian prayers for rain, are on a dead level with each other.

Sinner.—Is God infinite in his wisdom?

Parson.—He is.

Sinner.—Does he at all times know just what ought to be done?

Parson.—He does.

Sinner.—Does he always do just what ought to be done?

Parson.—He does.

Sinner.—Why do you pray to him?

Parson.—Because he is unchangeable. (“Ingersoll’s Interviews,” p. 83.)

Prayer is simply supplication to God. God is a mystery; a mystery so profound that nothing is known of him, save that he is a mystery. Even his existence cannot be demonstrated. His non-existence is equally undemonstrable, because no man has a definite conception of him to use as a starting point for investigation. Some claim that he is a person, others that he is omnipresent. Both of these cannot be; for personality and omnipresence are incompatible. Prayer is based on the supposition of his personality. It implies necessarily a person in a certain place, and possessed of certain attributes. He must be omnipotent, omniscient, unchangeable, and all-good. Nothing less than this will come up to the conception of what a God should be. Christians tell us God possesses all these attributes. We accept their statement because it is impossible to prove the contrary. On this basis, then let us examine prayer.

God is said to be all goodness. Goodness is the performance of duty. Perfect goodness is the performance of all duty, and of nothing beyond. It is also the performance of all duty without reluctance or hesitation. Prayer is an insult to this quality of God’s character. It implies that his goodness is not perfect. Every blessing for which man can ask, it is the duty of God either to grant or to withhold. In either case, prayer implies the possibility of imperfection. To ask God to grant a blessing which it is his duty to grant, is to assume that he will not do his duty without being urged. Such an assumption is downright insolence. To ask for a blessing which it is God’s duty to withhold, is to assume that he can be persuaded to commit sin. This, too, can only be regarded as an insult. In both cases prayer is useless, because God is not likely to grant a blessing asked in the same breath an insult is given.

We are told that God is pleased with prayer, because it shows our faith in his goodness. It rather shows our lack of faith. To be continually asking for blessings, implies a doubt whether we shall get them if we do ask. He who never prays shows the most faith, for he takes it for granted that God is good, and if he is good, he will provide for his children unasked. The child has faith that his father will provide for him, but he never asks him to do so. Such conduct would prove him unworthy of his father’s care. So with prayer; the praying man is the true skeptic, and the Infidel is the true believer.

Prayer makes God a changeable being. It implies that he will grant any favor we ask, whether he had previously designed to do so or not. If we were privy to his designs, and knew what blessings he intended to bestow, we could ask only for such as he had intended to give us. In the absence of this knowledge we pray blindly for blessings which it may be, he has determined to withhold. This necessarily implies that he may change his designs. If the object pleaded for is a good one, such a change would be perfectly proper in an earthly monarch. In God it would be fanciful in the extreme. It would place his will at the disposal of a million fallible human beings. It would overthrow the harmony of his government, and replace it by the most reckless chance. Our reception of a blessing would depend no longer on God’s goodness; it would depend on whether some other person of greater persuasive power, was or was not asking an opposite blessing at the same time. God would be in constant indecision, and we should be in constant doubt. Prayer, then, is based on the changeableness of an unchangeable being, and therefore valueless.

Prayer, in theory, is based on the supposition of God’s personality; prayer, in practice, assumes that God is omnipotent. It supposes that he can be in all places at all times. People are praying at all hours of the day and in all quarters of the globe. To hear them all God must be at such places at such times. To do this he must cease to be a personal being, he must cease to be God. He will then have no intelligence, no volition, for these depend on a personal organization. Prayer, therefore, logically annihilates the being to whom it is addressed.

Prayer implies doubt of the wisdom of God. To pray is to ask for a certain blessing. We assume that such a blessing is best for us, and inform God of the fact. After insulting his goodness by asking for a blessing, we insult his intelligence by specifying what that blessing shall be. Prayers are rarely or never asked for general blessings alone. A person who asks for a blessing and leaves the choice of that blessing wholly to God, is liable to be considered a lunatic by all true believers. Yet to do otherwise is to deny God’s omniscience. It assumes that God does not know what our wants are. If God is a rational being, he can only treat such an assumption with contempt. Prayer has been tried for two thousand years and with no result. No prayer has ever been directly or indirectly answered by God. On the contrary, he apparently delighted in mocking those who call upon him. When the Ville du Havre went down, over two hundred ministers were praying for their lives, but in vain. Two girls who trusted not in prayers, but in swimming-belts, alone were saved. (“Logic of Prayer,” Charles Stevenson.)

Some years ago when the yellow fever raged at Memphis, Tennessee, the pious people of this country prayed most devoutly to have the plague swept away. These prayers were repeated, were offered up by the most faithful in the Christian ranks, but all in vain. They had read in their Bible that the prayers of the righteous availeth much. They had been taught to believe that “all things whatsoever ye shall ask in prayer, believing, ye shall receive.” ([Mat. 21 : 22].) There is no one thing that Jesus taught more explicitly than this; the prayers of those who truly believe shall be answered. He said:

Therefore I say unto you, What things so ever ye desire when ye pray, believe that ye receive them, and ye shall have them. ([Mark 21 : 24].)

But we see that prayers are not answered. And besides, those prayers which it is claimed are answered carry no proof of the fact with them.

Did not millions of Christians pray for the restoration of President Garfield? How utterly delusive it is to palm off as truth the following promise upon credulous minds:

Again I say unto you that if two of you shall agree on earth as touching anything ye shall ask, it shall be done for them of my Father, which is in heaven. ([Mat. 18 : 19].)

Jesus himself offered a prayer that was not answered. In the garden of Gethsemane he prayed:

O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as thou wilt. ([Mat. 26 : 39].)

There is no evidence that God has ever interfered in the affairs of men. The hand of earth is stretched uselessly toward heaven. From the clouds there comes no help. In vain the shipwrecked cry to God. In vain the imprisoned ask for liberty and light—the world moves on, and the heavens are deaf and dumb and blind. The frost freezes, the fire burns, slander smites, the wrong triumphs, the good suffer, and prayer dies upon the lips of faith. (“Ingersoll’s Interviews,” p. 49.)

“Ask and it shall be given thee” is an erroneous and immoral teaching. It is false. It is not true that people get what they pray for. We hear pious persons praying, “Give us this day our daily bread,” but none of them expect to get their bread in that way. What an irresistible smile would wrinkle the faces of the devout if a poor widow should pray: “Give us this day our daily coal,” and another of the praying circle should ask, “Give us this day our daily potatoes,” and another should beg, “Give us this day our daily beefsteak.”

While no one expects to get his daily supplies in answer to prayer, yet millions of pious souls are scandalized if you doubt the efficacy of prayer. They will admit that they have to work for their “daily bread,” “but after all God gives it to us just the same.” He gives it to the sinner who does not pray in the same manner, that is, if he labors he earns his own bread.

In vain the seamstress in her sickness and poverty, prays, “Give us this day our daily bread.” She dies with these her last words on her lips.

In vain the noble souls who have been thrown into prison for daring to tell and defend the truth, have fervently appealed to the judge of all the earth for freedom.

In vain the martyr looked to heaven for deliverance.

Faith in Prayer.

“I will close this letter with a little incident, the story of which may not be so startling, but it is true. It is a story of child faith. Johnny Quinlan, of Evanston, has the most wonderful confidence in the efficacy of prayer, but he thinks that prayer does not succeed unless it is accompanied with considerable physical strength. He believes that adult prayer is a good thing, but doubts the efficacy of juvenile prayer.

“He has wanted a Jersey cow for a good while, and tried prayer, but it didn’t seem to get to the central office. Last week he went to a neighbor who is a Christian and believer in the efficacy of prayer, also the owner of a Jersey cow.

“‘Do you believe that prayer will bring me a yaller Jersey cow?’ said Johnny.

“‘Why, yes, of course. Prayer will remove mountains. It will do anything.’

“‘Well, then, suppose you give me the cow you’ve got and pray for another one.’” (Bill Nye.)

A Specimen Prayer.

“O Lord, our Heavenly Father, thou who dwellest in heaven [flattery] Thou art the creator and preserver of all things; [flattery] we thank Thee that we live and move and have our being; [Imagine a response of, ‘You are quite welcome, I am sure,’] that we are neither dead nor damned—for hadst Thou visited one sin in a thousand, we should be beyond the reach of hope and mercy. [He’s not just, or He would have done it.] Thousands of our fellow mortals, as good by nature as we, and far better by practice, are now trying the unalterable laws of an unending eternity. [Not a very good comment on His justice.] Yet we have [by His partiality] still another opportunity to make our calling and election sure. We come before Thee, O Lord, to ask the forgiveness of our sins. [Must have indulgence.] O Lord, look in mercy on us and remember us in thy love. O we pray Thee that Thou wouldst prosper Thy cause. [He hadn’t thought of that for sometime before.] O send more laborers into the harvest, for the harvest is great and the laborers are few, [another piece of information.] O Lord, hasten the time when all shall know Thee from the least unto the greatest [We are satisfied that you are not diligent enough in this matter, and we want you to hurry up.] O Lord, check the progress of evil [You ought to know enough to do it without being told,] and promote the cause of truth, [which you would do, if you were as much interested in the matter as we are.] O Lord, hear our prayer [Do pay attention and don’t forget in an hour, like a stupid dolt, what we have been telling you,] and answer our petitions. And in the end, when we are called to die, save us [which on account of our unworthiness, you may not do, or on account of your forgetfulness you may neglect, and leave us the subject of one of the devil’s infernal jokes,] and the praise, and the honor, and the glory, we will ascribe through endless ages to Thee. [A great consideration, which will certainly be some inducement to you to save,—only just think what an advantage such an arrangement will be to you.] All of which we ask for Jesus’ sake, Amen.”

(Newspaper Clipping.)

The Boston Man’s Prayer.

“Oh God, if there be a God, save my soul if I have a soul, from hell if there is a hell, Amen, if it is necessary.”

Prayer an Echo.

‘From the earliest dawn of Nature’s birth,

Since sorrow and sin first darkened the earth;

From sun to sun, from pole to pole,

Where’er the waves of Humanity roll,

The breezy robe this planet wears

Has quivered and echoed with countless prayers.

Each hour a million knees are bent,

A million prayers to heaven are sent;

There’s not a summer beam but sees

Some humble suppliant on his knees;

There’s not a breeze that murmurs by

But wafts some faithful prayer on high;

There’s not a woe afflicts our race

But someone bears to the Throne of Grace;

And for every temptation our souls may meet

We ask for grace at the Mercy Seat.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

The beams smile on, and heaven serene

Still bends, as though no prayers had been;

And the breezes moan, as still they wave,

When man is powerless, heaven cannot save.”

—Charles Stevenson.