V.  PRAYING IN AMERICA “Hear my prayer, O Lord; let my cry come to thee! Do not hide thy face from me in the day of my distress! Incline thy ear to me: answer me speedily in the day when I call!”          More Americans prayed on September 11, 2001, and the days following, than in any other period in our history.          If we didn’t think of it ourselves, the President ordered it. We could not avoid being drawn into  prayers being offered in thousands of religious services, sporting events, and public gatherings of all kinds. There were hours and hours of “moments of silence,” presumably used as opportunities for prayers.          The President ended all of his many statements with the words, “God bless America.” The song by that name was sung everywhere, almost as a national anthem.          Psalm 102, quoted above, is worth a second look in these days. Talk of “my days passing away like smoke...my heart is smitten like grass...I lie awake...my enemies taunt me...l eat ashes like bread.”          The psalm writer has been where we are. He prays to be heard, almost sounding like maybe he won’t. But faith triumphs over doubt. He talks of the Lord having pity on Zion, “It is a time to favor her...for thy servants hold her stones dear and have pity on her dust.” It is a psalm of faith and hope in rebuilding. “He will regard the prayer of the destitute...”          He goes on to say, “Let this be recorded for a generation to come, so that a people yet unborn may praise the Lord; that he looked down from his holy height...to hear the groans of the prisoners, to set free those who were doomed to die.”          We would like to believe those words. I wonder how many were like me, wondering how people could really believe in the kind of God that lets a few crazed men wipe out the life dreams of thousands, then stoops to comfort their loss. How many really believe in the kind of God that may choose to select some individual amidst the rubble for saving, while leaving the rest to be recovered in bits and pieces, if at all.          For many of us in this world, the idea of such a God is impossible. The God “up there,” “out there,” that arbitrarily afflicts blessing and disaster, no longer exists for us. The idea that we may pray such a God into action in our behalf is almost sinister. Any decent sort of God would have a better handle on things in the first place.          Yet we pray. We gather our hopes and fears and feelings into words and thoughts that we send on to “God.” We do it even without belief that God has ears to hear such feelings. We do it because it is the only thing we can do. We do it because somehow there is some comfort in it. We do it because it’s something we can do with and for one another, God or not.          If we can somehow hook on to our prayers and do something to make them happen, it might help. Yes, “America, America, God shed his grace on thee. And crown thy good with brotherhood, from sea to shining sea.” We could work at crowning our good with brotherhood. We could work on fulfilling the pledge we make to our flag, “with liberty and justice for all.” Things like that would help our prayers matter.          Yes, our prayers go out to whomever or whatever for those in our range of caring. We can pray our deepest yearnings. We might do well to understand that it is not God’s actions that need prodding and changing, but our own. Though I do not believe in a person-like God that hears and answers, I do not let my disbelief keep me from praying. It is good to pray and dangerous not to do so. Praying opens doors of possibility and hope and comfort and healing and decision and peace in ways no one can clearly explain. Pray to whatever or whomever you wish. “Hear my prayer, O Lord; let my cry come to thee.” It won’t bring back the victims and won’t alter the flight of any plane, but it can bring back faith in the ultimate value and goodness of life. We might even find God in ourselves, and ourselves in God. — Art Morgan, September 11, 2001