“Different Gods”: How I Got Over My Fear of Interfaith Prayer

Karin Wildheart
Christianish
Published in
4 min readMay 25, 2018

Have you ever prayed? Did you feel a connection, or was it more to “whoever’s out there listening”?

Have you ever prayed with someone who wasn’t sure they believed in God, or in the same God you did?

A few years ago, my improv troupe considered beginning rehearsals with a group prayer and I balked. Why? Because there was a non-Christian in the group: a former Catholic, dabbling in Buddhism and Taoism and I suspect some drugs. I was (privately) asked about my objection. “Who’s he praying to?” I asked. “God only knows what’s out there. I don’t want to invite in some evil spirit.”

Years later I mentioned to a pastor that I had a friend (okay, love interest) who no longer identified as a Christian but still prayed. “But who’s he praying to?” the pastor asked, a bit urgently, cautioning me against involvement with this person.

God. Guys, they were praying to God.

You know the term “Christian God”? It’s curious. God has no religion, although Jesus was Jewish, so I hope those using the term “Christian God” realize that’s the “Jewish God,” too. God is not owned by Christians, or by anyone, for that matter.

People using the phrase, “Christian God” are usually referring to God as described in the Bible. But God immeasurably transcends any book (the Bible included) that has a beginning and end and is bound by words and ink and edges.

In my Christian tradition, this “Christian God” is the only entity to whom it is ever appropriate to pray, unlike other Christian traditions that pray to saints, or non-Christian traditions that pray to ancestors and more.

Therefore, the logic goes, praying with someone who does not know or believe in that God is misguided at best and dangerous at worst. A little internet digging on this topic turned up the incredibly inflammatory sentence, “No matter the other god’s title, its true name is Satan.” Yikes!

Caution has its value, but this logic breaks down. It rests on the premise that any two people could know and believe in God in the same way.

To illustrate the problem, what if you’re praying with someone you met at your church who ostensibly believes most of the same things about God that you do (and uses the same word for God) except they think God doesn’t want women to be pastors? Is that not ultimately a “different God” who could direct millions of women into a different life calling? To insist we hold matching views of God before praying together seems logistically challenging at best, and likely impossible.

Even if each of us had only perfect information and experience, we would still be limited by the span of our minds and length of our lifetimes and fall so short of knowing God as to still be effectively “wrong.” God is always bigger, more mysterious, and I believe more inclusive than we can imagine.

Therefore, if you feel your prayer partner doesn’t know or understand God and you feel you do, have the humility to accept that she or he differs from you, as they say, “in degree but not in kind.”

If you believe there’s one God, what’s the worst-case scenario? Is Allah up there doing a fist pump when confused people accidentally pray to him as the “Christian God” weeps on the sidelines? Can people unintentionally ask evil spirits to bless their time together, and have the evil spirits respond by ruining something?

Sure, satanic rituals (for example) can be damaging and I wouldn’t participate in that kind of thing, but if someone is praying to Source or Creator or “whoever is up there” or “God, if you’re real” instead of using the term Yahweh or Jesus, well, who else is gonna answer that ringing phone?

Before, I was afraid. Now, I think if there’s only one God, all indefinitely-directed prayers must make it to God’s one inbox, no matter how they’re addressed.

Furthermore, I think there’s more harm in refusing to pray with the uncertain than there would be from praying. Prayer is one means by which God changes our hearts. Skipping out on all those pre-improv prayers was forgoing a series of little channels through which love could flow.

I have prayed alone, with Christians, and with non-Christians. If I could go back to that improv troupe, I’d give group prayer a try, believing the God at the receiving end would protect me from harm if I prayed for Him to.

Originally published at www.sailingbythestars.com on May 25, 2018.

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Karin Wildheart
Christianish

Life coach passionate about transformative conversations. Deep people are my people. ❤