SPECTRUM: Prayer in the public square

A satanic prayer upset the Kenai Peninsula Borough Assembly this past summer. It grew out of the goodness in their hearts to be inclusive and accepting. As such, they had removed any religious requirement for invocators who open their public meetings. Anyone could sign up. And they did.

Subsequently one day, August 9th, a satanic worshiper beseeched a Luciferin blessing upon the Assembly. Well, that just rocked their crock. So, they reverted to the old rule of having some religious parameters for invocators. Not a bad policy, considering the nature of prayer.

Prayer comes in two forms, private and public. Your private conversations with the Invisible nobody can contend with. Have at it. Public invocations, on the other hand, absolutely need context. They are spoken with others listening, whether at a family dinner table or a city assembly meeting, thus, they require inclusivity, for others will be affected.

People who pray in public should have a composure to include all hearts and minds present, albeit a mighty task in our diverse and contentious society. As such, public prayers are not free-for-alls. They are not entries into a religious freedom contest. And they are not pulpit-style promotions of doctrine. This reminds me of a time when I was at a convention and the organizer suddenly asked me if I would kindly say grace before lunch, the minister they scheduled was late. Sure, I can do that. Then he dropped a cup of hot soup on my lap, “Please don’t use the name of ‘God’ in your prayer, for it may be uncomfortable for some of the people here.”

He was right. The conference was a unique gathering of about 300 religiously devout people of several different persuasions: Native Americans, Buddhists, Bahia’s, Muslims, Jews, and of course, Christians.

Hmm? I had to be inclusive and not pray in a name that would offend anyone. I wanted to represent God in His entirety, especially for this holy gathering of sorts, so I was momentarily frantic.

How was I going to address God? And in who’s name do I close the pray? To be inclusive, I can’t say in the name of “Jesus.” Nor does the name “Heavenly Father” jive with everyone; indeed, it might be too masculine.

I could address God as “The Universal Energy of Goodness.” My atheist friends wouldn’t even wiggle at that. Maybe I could greet God as “Universal Power.” I could use the “Name of Love.” Or something creative like “Heavenly Divine Spirit.” Or “The Great Spirit.”

Admit it, if you use a name for God that you’ve never used before, it’s going to feel uncomfortable the first time. That was me as I walked up to the stage. I felt tested – macro-cosmically fast – to broaden myself.

Where do we learn this stuff on how to properly call on The Almighty?

When thinking about this incident, the Kenai Assembly got it right to keep a religious rule for their invocators. Public prayer takes a certain skill. It takes a quality of character. And it takes a broad heart. It’s not a little thing. A prayer in public must invoke a real sense of the Higher Power and incorporate an energy of love for all within earshot.

Now, I’m going to point out that there is an elephant in this room. We are predominantly a Christian people in America, and in our public squares and governmental halls we invoke the name of Jesus more than any other.

I have no problem with that. But having worked in diverse circles, I know that Jesus is not accepted by everyone. We are a pluralistic country. And conscientious forces are arguing today that if you pray in the name of Jesus, then they can pray in the name of Satan. Either way, both contain a lot of doctrine, which our government was empowered not to take sides on.

Now, I know that Christians may take me to task over this, saying if we cannot speak the name of Jesus, then what have we come to in America. We’re talking about public prayer, however, not a religious freedom platform to assert one’s faith. Public prayers should express shared values, as we deliberate over common concerns. So, there I was about to say a blessing over lunch at an inter-religious convention before a few hundred non-believers, so to speak. Yet they were compatriots of heart. I had to include them in my prayer. Okay, I breathe in, here goes.

I greeted God in a fashion of spontaneity, “Our Heavenly Parent.” And I closed with the words, “I pray this in the Most Loving Name under the sun.” Indeed, my Christian friends knew who that was. My Moslem friends did too. And my Buddhist friends also. They all could insert their own Teacher into that description.

I think the Kenai Peninsula Borough’s decision to ask men and women of faith to open their assembly meetings is a good one, and they should keep that rule. They saw what happened when it became a free-for-all. And to change the practice into a mere moment of silence, the other option, would remove a valuable component to the public square: the spoken words of universally shared values. We need to hear more of them.

Eugene Harnett is an Eagle River resident.