Macquarrie on Prayer

A Little Story

Introduction

This little story appeared in the Plenteous Harvest in April, 1998. It is a satire on John Macquarrie, a prominent Anglican theologian who doesn't believe that God answers prayer by making any difference in matters of fact. Part of this story, the part about a child almost bleeding to death in an emergency room and her father crying out to Jesus, is a true story. It happened exactly as narrated. The rest about "poor Fred" talking with his priest was imagined. The story follows.

A Little Story

      Poor Fred. He's not that bright, theologically that is. Why, just this morning he was in my office talking about a "miracle."
      Two nights ago he and his daughter ended up in the emergency room at three in the morning. It was pretty awful. She was bleeding from the mouth and throwing up chunks of half-digested blood. She'd had her tonsils out five days earlier and a vein had popped. Fred was holding on to her while the doctor tried desperately to stop the bleeding. It wouldn't stop. After two hours, Fred realized his daughter was bleeding to death right in front of him. In desperation he cried out, "Jesus, you've got to do something now, you've got to do it now." At that very instant, for the first time, the doctor managed to jam the tongs with medicated cotton at the right angle somewhere in the back of her throat, and hold it there for ten minutes while Fred's daughter breathed through his fist, the tongs, and the blood without throwing up. After that, he let go. She didn't bleed, but her blood pressure was sixty over thirty. She'd just about checked out.
      "It's a miracle," Fred said, his face alight, almost crying in fact.
      I didn't say anything. What could I say? But then, am I not a theologian?
      "I don't know," I said, reaching for my well-worn copy of John Macquarrie's Principles of Christian Theology. "I think I'd better read you a few things."
      He smiled. He was happy. After all, he respects me. I'm his priest. I've got a Ph.D. He wants to understand.
      So I read him a few excerpts, stuff to the effect that God is not a particular being, but Being. Particular beings like people and atoms, napalm and DNA, have effects, but not God. He is Being, and therefore, as Being, he has no particular effects in this world.
      Fred nodded, but I wasn't sure he got it. Like I said, Fred can get a little slow sometimes. So I figured I better get down to brass tacks. After all, I'm his priest. It's my job. I read him some of the material on prayer, pp. 493-97. I showed him that we shouldn't really ask God to do specific things, like heal someone, or save a life, or end a drought, because such prayers are so often egotistical, and besides, God doesn't do miracles.
      Fred was dumbfounded. "You mean I did wrong?" he asked.
      "Worse than that," I replied, reading aloud: "This means that all magical ideas of prayer must be rejected, and of course, they ought to be. Religion and faith have nothing to do with attempts to manipulate the world by occult means."
      "I'm an occultist?" Fred exclaimed.
      "It looks like it," I replied.
      He stared at me intently. "So God is telling me I've done wrong?" he said evenly, his face turning red.
      "Oh yes," I started to say, but then I caught myself. I was about to do say something stupid. How could God tell him anything if God never has particular effects?
      Suddenly he got up. He was out of there.
      "Wait," I cried, "I'm not sure you understand."
      He stopped in the doorway. "Oh I understand, all right," he said, and then he was gone.
      I didn't try to stop him. How could I? Like I said, when it comes to theology, Fred just isn't all that bright.

The End

John Macquarrie is an Anglican theologian, widely studied in our Episcopal seminaries. The above is only part of his thought on prayer, but it's a critical part. In my view, there are powerful currents at work in the Episcopal Church that violate the gospel.

Articles

Macquarrie on Prayer

Anglicanism