On Prayers

Today is Pop's birthday.
It's also his last day at work.
Being the very devout he is, he asked the whole family to pray together.

The thing is... I haven't said a prayer in a very long time.

Like some of us did, I spent my childhood with a lot of prayers.
The mandatory one would be pre-meal prayers. We thanked God for giving us food so that we can live (I was untouched by the idea that life is suffering in an absurd world of injustice).
So the first kind of prayer I knew was about gratitude.

Growing up, every kid starts facing difficulties in life - first heartbreak, bad dreams, new school -  you name it.
This is where you start asking for help.

Few years later, if you're religious, you start understanding the concept of sin. It makes us apart from God, and it makes us feel shitty about ourselves (and even without the concept lf sin, the latter somehow still lingers in life).
I still remember how masturbation made me feel like I was the only one who did the filthy act coz no one, I thought, could think of such abominable sexuality. I cried to God and asked for forgiveness.
It took me awhile to accept that masturbation is a natural act.
So there you have it, the third aspect of a prayer - confession and apology.

With all these memories, prayers used to be a very intense experience. It had a whole world of meaning.

But it all changed when I decided to be an agnostic.
The reason? So tired of talking to a God that doesn't seem to give a fuck.
I stopped talking once I considered the possibility of God's indifference.
If he doesn't care, his existence doesn't matter.
Hence, there's a good chance that prayers don't matter either.
*Insert a Nietzchean montage here*

I could talk about how my upright yet sometimes annoyingly kind parents were devastated when I found out about this, but it would take countless more blog posts, hours of sustained mood, and 5 mugs of coffee.
For the sake of simplicity, let's just say that I'm openly agnostic and my parents still hope that one day I become a Christian (they even prayed for this at the prayer session I just had).

Knowing this, you'd expect that they would stay away from me and we could just agree to disagree and eventually let each other believe what we want to believe. At least that's what I wanted to have.

Turns out they can't stop asking me to go to church, choir practices, bible studies, and prayer groups. Being the typical Asian kid with past childhood beatings that I actually am, my resistance to these offer can only be made in silence. Anyway, silence can save heated arguments between two parties who don't wanna change their mind.

So the point is that they treat me like a Christian boy (such is a constant challenge to my sanity).
That is why Pop asked me to join the family prayer.
My inner self said "No please just leave me alone".
But I thought it's his birthday, so for once I'd comply.
Besides, I've got over the frustration caused by his beliefs. An hour of prayer wouldn't hurt much, or would it?

I went to parents' bedroom and sat.
First we sang a hymn titled 'Great is Thy Faithfulness' - Pop's all-time favorite.
He plucked his guitar
I took mine and added some melodies.
Pop delivered a mini-sermon.

Then it was time for the prayer.

I was kinda nervous coz I got to start.
Pop asked me to pray for him.

The thing is, when you havent prayed for a long time, you would not know what to say - at least if you aim for a sincere prayer.

Or you would if you would want a prayer.
I did an experiment proving to myself that you can fake a prayer using the theological jargons you grew up with.
'Bapa di dalam surga' (our father in heaven), 'Kami bersyukur' (we thank thee), 'Kehendakmu yang jadi' (thy will be done), 'Berkat dan pertolonganmu' (your blessing and assistance), 'Kasih Tuhan' (the love of God), 'Memohon ampun' (we ask for forgiveness), 'Kiranya Tuhan Berkenan' (we hope that you are willing to give us)...
Once I did this experiment in an empty chapel, I realized that the prayers in my whole life was fake.
And I realized that people who could pray fluently (as in a fast tempo and with jargons) are probably fake. They just get used to with the words and phrases that they can reproduce it in a prayer.

I could take this approach, but that doesn't suit me.
Besides, there's also a chance that God exists.
There's also a chance that God - whoever the being is - hears prayers.
But what if I couldnt find the words?
What if my inability to speak disappointed my parents and made them sad?
That would be a bummer for Pop's birthday.

Well I didn't have much choice.
So I started praying.


Turned out that I did mumble.
I really couldn't find the words.

But after a few minutes, and after thinking about Pop's retirement and its resonance to the Indian movie 'The Lunchbox', the rhytm started flowing.

I asked for God's guidance, his blessing to Pop, his blessing to his retirement and future plan, his protection, his care, his love, and all things you could ask from a God who doesn't (but may) give a fuck.

And I had to say it felt a little ecstatic.

And that troubled me.
Why did I feel good about praying?
I have convinced myself that God doesn't care.
Prayer doesn't matter.
Is this a divine intervention? The Holy Spirit giving a sense of peace?

I can't give the answer for those matters.
But one thing I find out is that prayer can mean something.
In prayers, human beings have the space to imagine alternate conditions.
There, I could imagine the possibility that Pop and Mom may get a good life.
There's a room to imagine that life may not end up in a shitty way.
There's an imagination that probably things will turn out to be okay.
In prayers, everyone can have a taste of hope.

Whether these hopes and imaginations are just stupid dreams, I cannot know for certain.
I am still unconvinced that God is good.
Looking at how the world works, we don't have that much chance to live a happy life.
Things which can go wrong are most likely to go wrong (thats a bad paraphrase of Murphy's Law but that's all I can come up with).

Even we don't know if God cared.
I still believe that God doesn't care and all the prayers might be a total waste of time.
After all, human lives have no value for God.
You can't expect the world to be fair.
You can't expect the world to have a good life.
You can't expect that prayers change your miserable life.
You can't expect God to fulfill your wishes.

But in moments of prayers, for a fleeting fifteen minutes, you can imagine.

***

"I pray that my children will one day believe in God".
- Mom, Dec 12, midnight, wearing a black shirt with a Superman symbol.

What a sweet irony.

December 12, 2018.
01:30 AM