Day 360 - The penultimate prayer strike blog

 

As the 25th December approaches and these prayer strike blogs wrap up (like a Christmas gift to the Almighty), I should probably reflect on the year.

It has been a difficult year. My metaphor has been that of swimming a river and the swimming has been arduous and full of obstacles. Much is not resolved and, although I had insisted to God that I wanted past prayers to be answered, he simply has not done that. I have felt extremely disappointed by that.

But at the start of these blogs, I wondered if I would be an atheist by the end of the year – my having not prayed (apart from some brief talks) for a year now. I am not an atheist. I still believe. I could, I suppose, have written some bold post about how I had decided to no longer be a believer – but what is the point of me doing so, if I still believe? I know that many people write of leaving the faith and I feel I understand now why they do so.

One day, I feel things will not be like this – I hope that they will get better for all of us. 

Grief is much harder than I thought it in the past. It is not quite like losing a tooth and always being aware of where that tooth used to be. That’s a bit too simplistic. Besides, tooth pain can go away. All of the anger and sadness and all of the rest can be overwhelming. I am not sure I am at a point where I can offer much advice – these blogs largely being an exploration of the way in which a grief has affected my faith, rather than the other, more practical things, like digital legacies etc.

I have, as I say, felt extremely disappointed with God. The anger has lessened, but is still there. I have been honest with God about this whenever I have briefly approached him in prayer.

It will never be the same.

I am not sure I have learned that much from it all. What was I supposed to learn? That grief is crap? That God lets you down? There may have been lessons (and there have certainly been tests), but I really am unsure of what on earth I am supposed to have discovered from all this. That God will not be manipulated? That there is little point in writing a year-long blog about it all? What am I supposed to say that could be helpful to anyone? 

So, the next blog will be the last one in this series and it will be written on Christmas day, providing I can carve out a little space to do so. Will I, or anyone else, look back on these blogs? I really do not know. Perhaps one thing I have learned is that our legacies, are not always what we might hope them to be.

It is almost Christmas and almost a year since my brother died. I should, I presume, practice what I preach and attempt to survive it...

Day 353 - Christmas losses

 

My brother was clearly not the only one to die on Christmas day...

James Brown, who recorded James Brown sings Christmas Songs and A Soulful Christmas, died of congestive heart failure on Christmas Day, 2006.

George Michael, singer of Last Christmas, reportedly died from a diseased heart on Christmas Day, 2016.

Dean Martin, singer of Christmas favourites such as Silver Bells and But Baby it’s Cold Outside, died of acute respiratory failure on Christmas Day, 1995.

Charlie Chaplin, star of The Kid, which is on many people’s Christmas favourite films list, died in his sleep on Christmas Day, 1977, following a stroke.

 

Although some deaths can be ironic, I don’t think Ad really made much Christmas related art – if he decided to paint something faith related, he usually focused on the crucifixion.

As a child, he liked Christmas, and although subjects of faith influenced his artwork, he didn’t focus too much on the birth of Christ. He always said that he wondered what had happened in Christ’s childhood and talked about some of the apocrypha which went into this.

Surviving Christmas is absolutely a thing. The trouble is that the winter months really are bad for us, and, statistically, we are much more likely to leave this earth during this time.

I got the news that Ad died at 7.14pm last Christmas from his partner. ‘He’s just gone’, she wrote. I had to tell other people. If there is one thing I do not like to do – it is to bring bad news.

There will be two more of these prayer strike blogs. If I get the chance, I will post on Christmas day. I’m not sure anyone will read it, but it will be here as a record.

In the meantime – make sure you survive this Christmas. It is what the loved ones we no longer have with us would have wanted.

I am still in very occasional talks with God, but the prayer strike largely continues. I’m not sure I have planned beyond this point. There will be two more prayer strike blogs here, one next week and one on 25th December.

I miss my brother so very much.

Day 346 - Talks

 

I’ve prayed a little more. It is largely from a feeling of compulsion and a sense that God will not be manipulated (and certainly will not be publicly manipulated). I figure it is probably self-defeating to carry on with these blogs. Because even if I got my prayers suddenly answered, it would set some kind of spiritual precedent and soon anyone who read any of this would be ceasing from prayer until God capitulated. And I’m guessing that isn’t allowed by Heaven.

But I will keep writing weekly here until xmas, if only to have a record of this year and the way in which grief has had an influence on the remains of my faith. As I say, I do still believe, but I am very unhappy with the way things have gone. This year has been so difficult… so hard. Kind people keep telling me that things will get better with time. That is always helpful and appreciated. So far, I’ve been to three funerals this year, including my brother’s. I don’t want to go to any more for a while. I really do not like funerals anyway. I fail to see how they help most people to process their grief. I would be happy not to have a funeral when I die. I think it would spare people a lot of unnecessary hassle. But society is such that it is expected.

Inevitably, I’ve been thinking about death a lot this year. Hot on the heels of the pandemic, it is very hard not to. As I say, I’m brave enough to admit being afraid of death. I wish i didn’t think of it so often because it doesn’t help much. There are so many reminders of it though that it is hard not to. We should think of angels and things like that... After all, you would think angels would be kind and gentle, wouldn't you? Unlike the angel of death - Azrael, or whoever it is supposed to be.

Sorry, I guess I’m reminding you of death too now.

I’m sitting writing this in the building of my workplace. It is a huge building, kind of metallic with a lot of ducts, like something out of Terry Gilliam's 'Brazil'. I don’t mind the place so much now, although it can be a bit clinical and impersonal. As ever, educational buildings just get bigger and bigger the older you get. The Christmas decorations here have been up for a while. Notably, a picture of Russell Brand got replaced by a Christmas tree in quite an impressive piece of airbrushing, following the recent accusations.

By the 40ft Christmas tree, which has no tinsel, just huge baubles and lights, there are two Christmassy toy nutcracker soldiers, standing like giants. I don’t mind them so much and they are here every year. They remind me of Hans Christian Anderson's tale of the steadfast tin soldier. That’s actually quite an interesting story because, in it, the protagonist doesn’t actually do anything at all (apart from not running away). Things just happen to him. The soldier isn’t very proactive. But maybe there is something to be said for keeping your position, neither retreating or advancing.

 

I think the main thing is just to say that yes, I have been praying a little. Nothing much has happened as a result. Maybe I’ve just got to keep my place for now? At least until the 25th December…

Day 339 - Writing through it

 

My new book, The Parables of The Cold Island is now out in case you are struggling for an intelligent stocking filler. It is dedicated to my brother and his girlfriend. It has been informed by these blogs and by my feelings over the year. It is a continuation of my most important parable. They say that a lot of people (including myself) have been struggling to read long books since the pandemic. So, it is deliberately short.


Here is the blurb for it:

In the heart of a troubled island, where the very land itself aches with sickness, a King's iron-handed stubborn decree denies the one thing that can heal its people. In these two modern-day parables, author Nick White weaves a captivating narrative that transcends borders and whispers truths.

Delve into two tales that resonate with timeless allegory. Meet the King and his three children: two Princes who rebel, and a Princess who yearns for a warmth that cannot, seemingly, be attained. As the island's fate hangs in the balance, these parables will ignite your soul and awaken your senses.

An illustrated journey, this book is for every island… and every person.

As writing this has been part of my year, I am including it in these prayer strike blogs. If you want to take a look and read a sample it can be found here. It is in print, available as an ebook and available as an audiobook on Google Play/Books. Apart from that there is nothing significant to report.

Day 332 - Prayer addiction

 

What I hadn’t quite expected in this year of not praying was the sheer compulsion that seems to come from within me to pray.

I wanted to do a little research and find out if prayer addiction was an actual thing and could find very little.

There was some material online about ‘religious addiction’ – about people engaging in rituals and mood-altering disciplines in order to get a spiritual high. Most believers will feel guilty if they miss their prayer routine. But sometimes it can get out of hand. Sometimes ‘not praying’ can seem to be a performance-based thing.

It seems to me that religious-addiction can probably be helped by having hobbies and interests outside that of faith activities. But it all does have a habit of seeping into these unrelated activities too.

Of course, it is a relatively benign addiction. That’s why there is no information about it. It is only if you attempt to stop that you can get withdrawal symptoms. There is a culture in which it is positively encouraged to have a lengthy ‘quiet time’ every morning. If and when that is missed, the believer will often feel guilty. Or perhaps that it has not been a long enough amount of prayer.

The sin of ‘prayerlessness’ is very much a no-no in Christian culture. It is not entirely helped by our intrepid leader, who explicitly told people not the boast about the amount of time they pray (before ensuring that the book which told of how he went alone to pray so often would become a bestseller).

Long, public prayers are particularly frowned upon. Except we are not very good at not trumpeting our prayers. It has become a cultural thing now, but if the gospels are to be believed, it is the opposite of what used to be expected.

My prayers to God during this prayer strike have been brief and to the point. I haven’t secretly been praying all the time. I really am resisting the compulsion to pray. But there have been some brief ‘talks’. I’m not sure they have done much good. It is probably wisest to bawl my eyes out in prayer but that hasn’t happened. Besides, what then? Back onto the treadmill of prayer. First five minutes a day, then ten? Then half an hour, then an hour? I do think that prayer is a good deed and like all good deeds it should be voluntary. Not demanded or ordered or insisted upon.

It is, of course, none of my business what others do in private. (Unless it is maybe a murder or something.)

Anyway, there are other, far worse addictions which have even less of a capacity to fill the God-shaped hole. That, I imagine, is why no-one ever talks about it.

Day 325 - Ridiculous Thoughts

 

I'm not sure I particularly miss praying. It was never really a need anyway. Most people acknowledge that prayer is probably quite good for you, one way or the other. They say that it is effectively a form of meditation.

So much has been written about it. In faith circles it is supposed to include giving thanks, praising God, requesting things for others, requesting things for yourself, listening and expressing feelings.

They say that it doesn't really matter where you are, or how you position your body. It can be spoken or silent, written or voiced. I don't think it was ever a necessity but maybe there is something within me that is inclined to pray. It can be replaced with breathing exercises or journal entries or other things.

There are a lot of people who tell you how it should be done... and not done. Even the atheists usually admit that it is not necessarily time wasted in that it is helpful for mental and emotional health. I always felt it was more helpful to deviate from the formal prayers written by others.

I vividly remember watching some programme on TV in which a nun finally expressed to God her frustration at effectively giving over her entire life, including career, love life, time and all the rest in dedication to prayer and service. She said that during that prayer she did get a kind of answer from God. She sensed a reaction to her valid frustration. She said that she sensed a mild, not unkind, amusement. A sort of gentle smile. It was enough for this particular nun. She had got some kind of reaction and mild amusement at her dedicating her entire life to God was enough for her.

There are those of us who would not be entirely satisfied by mild amusement at a life given over to the service of God. That's why people like that will go on prayer strike. 'How amusing, this one is actually complaining'. Like the fickle ancient Greek gods might be amused at the questions and frustrations and sufferings of mere mortals. Or Zeus cracking a smile that a human being would have the arrogance to complain (and if they keep complaining, a lightning bolt is always useful). 

Perhaps that is the way God views this prayer strike. As mildly amusing. Like an ant engaged in self-defeating behaviour, raising its fist to Heaven… expected to count its blessings that it is not crushed underfoot. I suppose being ridiculous in the eyes of Almighty is better than him smiting you. We want to avoid that smiting. We do not like the smiting. It isn't funny. No smitey, Lordy.

Who knows? We are all encouraged to pray. Does our refusal really make much difference? Are we only hurting ourselves? 

My old pastor always used to say, 'Just make sure you are right with God’... A kind of 'Make your peace with God' type of thing.

But what do you do when you feel that God should get right with you? That he should make his peace with you?

Day 318 - Xmasphobia

 

As Christmas approaches, I'm having to learn how to navigate it considering that my brother died on xmas day. It is quite obviously one of those things which is impossible to avoid unless I were to leave the country.

It does seem to me to be quite an easy thing to develop an xmasphobia. A fear of Christmas is actually called Christougenniatikophobia - but it is such a mouthful that it is not surprising that it is largely an unknown word (though, I think the concept is very much known). I can see why so many people who have lost loved ones around this time of the year struggle so much. It is no longer 'the most wonderful time of the year'.

And still ringing in my ears, the words of the celebrant at Ads funeral, 'I believe there was a reason he died on Christmas day.' But as I thought at the time, 'I would like to know that reason. What was it?'

There is not much that I can offer in terms of tips on how to navigate Christmas if you don't like it. I have always, up until now, quite liked it and so I really don't know. Maybe read a good book to escape? I am unsure. I'm not sure which traditions to keep and which to jettison. Should I still send out cards? Should I still do presents and Christmas lunch and the whole social part of it? As ever, it seems like a lot of these things are not entirely voluntary anyway. Xmas pressure.

When they set up the annual Christmas German market in Birmingham, tears filled my eyes as I walked past it. I tried to avoid it at first. It felt a bit like psychological flooding. Face your fears, (whether you want to or not). There simply is no choice, I would have to leave this world to escape from Christmas. And besides, I don't want to never celebrate it again. There are many parts of the season which I still like.

In the hospital last year, I had given my brother a Christmas present, hung in a red Santa sock. It was nothing really, a necklace with a gecko pendant (my brother always a lover of reptiles and amphibians). Really, I just wanted there to be something cheery in the depressing hospital room. I knew at the time that Ad probably wouldn't get to open it. He didn't. His present for Christmas was not what any of us wanted.

I wish I could offer some helpful advice on how those who are grieving at this time of year should navigate Christmas, but I simply do not know. I don't currently feel that I have the luxury to do more than attempt to survive it.

There are only a few more blog entries left of this public yearlong prayer strike. I will leave them as a record of the things I have gone through this first year and my thoughts during this time. I will stop on Christmas day. I guess I will blog on the day itself, if I get the chance, and then my prayer strike will be less vocal. It will not be over, but I will not be blogging about it every week. I haven't really planned much beyond that. Perhaps I will return to the topic now and again as I will keep blogging.

Maybe somebody will find what I have written helpful. I hope so. Either way there will be a record here. I don't think I will try to publish these blogs into book format. There are other things I want to focus on.

So, how has God responded after 11 months of my prayer strike? I can sum that up in two words - deeply disappointingly.

So far…