It’s Just Good Manners Not to Pray

If I walked into a meeting and said I needed to blast Metallica for three minutes before we got started in order to better mentally prepare myself, people would probably think I was a bit “off.” They’d probably feel the same way if I requested some time to do yoga and then told everyone they had the option, but not obligation, to join in while I banged out a few warrior poses. Or if I suggested we all phone a friend and chat for a bit. Or bring in our dogs and pet them until our blood pressure went down. Or pull up some Minecraft on a big screen and let everybody watch while I play on a Hunger Games server.

We all do things to “get ready.” Whether it’s for work or school or a stressful meeting, most of us have rituals that get us relaxed, pumped up, or mentally in the zone. We listen to music. We exercise. We play games on our phones. We talk to people we trust. We drink a cup of coffee. We read. We nap. We meditate. We pray.

But we do all of these rituals on our own. We don’t expect other people to do them with us. Or watch us do them. Or listen to us do them. Or be there when we do them. It would be rude, right? “Bob, Mary, we’ll start the meeting in a minute — just let me do a few stretches while I listen to Justin Bieber*.” We would never expect another person to waste precious minutes of his or her day, standing around while we do what is personally and individually necessary for us.

Except when it comes to praying.

For some reason, it’s been deemed okay to waste other people’s time with prayer. I don’t mean in church or for a church event where people obviously go intentionally to do just that. Or your own home with your kids, where clearly you can spend every waking hour praying if you’d like (just, good luck getting them to hang around you at all once they’re legally free to leave the premises). I’m talking about praying anywhere else. And I mean anywhere else.

When a gathering of any kind — be it a governmental meeting, sporting event, or school function — is started with a prayer, it wastes the precious minutes of everyone who would otherwise be drinking a cup of coffee or reading or listening to Justin Beiber. I know this may be difficult to understand or come to terms with if you’re a person who feels strongly about your religious beliefs and convictions. I know you’re being encouraged to fight for your right to express you religion. I know the rhetoric is calling this a “war.”

Right now, there’s a case before the Supreme Court — Town of Greece v. Galloway. The short story is that the city council started all of its meetings with a Christian prayer, and two women — one Jewish, one atheist — felt like that wasn’t right. I don’t want to get into the constitutionality and legal arguments surrounding the case. There are people who can explain it more eloquently than I can. But in some ways, this itself case shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter because there’s already a legitimate argument for not praying before meetings:

It’s rude.

So if everyone could just stop being rude — could put themselves in other people’s shoes for just a moment and realize that not everyone wants spend that 3 minutes of their lives on that particular activity — we would all be able to get along so much better. Of course, there’s always the alternative.

When it’s our turn to do the “prayer” at the beginning of the meeting, don’t be surprised if the atheists are all wearing earplugs and blasting Justin Bieber.

*My usage of Justin Bieber in this example was essentially a substitution for an old adage about how to gauge whether or not something is religiously offensive. People’s argument for public prayer is often, “They don’t have to listen to it.” Ask if hearing the same prayer with “satan” substituted for “god” or “Jesus” would make them uncomfortable. It’s a good litmus test.