Are Thoughts & Prayers a Political Cop-Out?

Why Christians Should Not Neglect—Or Underestimate—Prayer in Response to Tragedy

By Hannah Miller King

There is a frenetic energy that comes in the wake of a crisis. We’re enraged by news of another school shooting, another senseless murder. We’re traumatized by violent footage of a very public assassination. In our grief, adrenaline surges and we frantically seek someone to blame or something to do. Social media algorithms fuel this dynamic with their bias toward outrage and extreme rhetoric. 

On the flip side, some of us shut down in response to the deluge of emotion. The chaos of accusations and opinions leaves us overwhelmed, so we retreat into apathy or cynicism. This retreat is sometimes couched in religious language: “My thoughts and prayers are with you” is sometimes code for, “I can’t—or won’t—really get embroiled in this problem.” As Christians, we must acknowledge the times we’ve misunderstood or misused prayer as a cover for apathy, and we must also recover prayer as our most important response in seasons of turmoil. 

In the apostle Paul’s letter to Timothy, he tells the young pastor, “first of all, I urge that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for all people, for kings and all who are in high positions, that we may lead a peaceful and quiet life, godly and dignified in every way.” (1 Tim. 2:1-2) On a peaceful day, this instruction might sound somewhat bland, but in a time of extreme political division and angst, we realize how challenging it is. We’d rather cancel our opponents than give thanks for them, or rally to support (or protest) our leaders than pray for them. But if we can devote ourselves to the challenge of prayer, we will discover the uniquely transformative power it holds for navigating our current cultural moment. 

Prayer Slows Us Down 

In the New Testament, prayer is not proposed as an alternative to action, but promoted as a first action. We especially need to begin with prayer when emotions are high because prayer slows us down and protects us from unhelpful reactivity. We’ve all acted rashly in the heat of anger or grief, and in today’s high-tension, high-stakes public sphere, it’s crucial that we vigilantly pursue self-control. 

Christians also start with prayer because, before we do or say anything, we need to align ourselves with God and his priorities. If he is calling us to act in ways that will be challenging or confrontational, we must spend time submitting our inclinations and agendas to him. We need to humbly ask for the conditions and qualities required for a “peaceful and quiet life, godly and dignified in every way.” (1 Tim 2:2) In a fast-paced world characterized by clickbait and rage bait, prayer helps us practice what theologians Nijay Gupta and A.J. Swoboda have called “slow theology” – a deliberate faith that resists the temptation to rush to conclusions or decisions in our own wisdom.

Prayer Unites Us With Those Who Disagree 

Paul’s letter also requires us to pray for “all people,” not just those with whom we are ideologically aligned. It’s natural to pray for our friends and allies, as well as the leaders we have voted for. It’s not natural to pray for those we perceive to be our personal or political enemies. But if we take Paul’s instructions seriously, we will find ourselves both praying for and praying with those very enemies. 

During my first five years of ministry, I served a church outside Washington, D.C., which was full of politicians and government contractors. The congregation was far from a political monolith, but our denomination followed a liturgy for corporate intercession from The Book of Common Prayer, which prescribed prayers for national and local leaders. So, every Sunday, our church prayed for our President, Governor, and Mayor by name. For a handful of years, that meant Republicans were praying for Barack Obama. Then, it meant Democrats were praying for Donald Trump. In the churches I’ve served since my time in D.C., I have remained deeply blessed by the opportunity to pray with brothers and sisters who vote differently than I do, and for elected leaders who might lead differently than I want them to. 

It’s a discipline to pray and to give thanks for all people, including those with whom we vehemently disagree. It’s also formative – affecting change in the world by changing us. St. Chrysostom said of Paul’s instruction in 1 Timothy, “No one can feel hatred toward those for whom he prays.” As we pray for our ideological opponents or those we harbor anger against, our hearts are shaped to love them as fellow human beings made in God’s image. 

Prayer Leads to Appropriate Action 

If we are routinely seeking God’s blessing for our neighbors, asking for the conditions that lead to peace, and aligning ourselves to God’s will for the world, we can expect the Spirit to lead us to act in accordance with that will. The actions we’re called to may look slightly different for each Christian based on their specific callings and convictions, but we can expect authentic prayer to yield fruitful action in all of us.

We should also expect authentic prayer to yield actions that we did not initially anticipate. In Paul’s ministry, aligning with God’s will resulted in a call to serve the Gentiles as an apostle and a teacher. (1 Tim. 2:7) These nations were among the last people he might have expected to reach as a devout Jew. His encounter with Jesus Christ changed not only his ideas about God but also his direction in life, and this is the kind of transformation we, too, must be willing to risk when we pray.

For Christians living in a fraught political moment, prayer is not a cop-out, nor should it be a religious front for partisan alliances or apathetic surrender. Prayer is hard work. It subjugates our wills to a God whose program is much bigger than ours. If we give ourselves to it, we can expect change to occur — beginning with a change in us. 

Hannah Miller King is a priest in the Anglican Church in North America and the author of “Feasting on Hope: How God Sets a Table in the Wilderness.”