"I'm praying for you."

I'm not exactly an expert on prayer, both from early conditioning and from later philosophy. But these days I get prayed for a lot, and I like it.

I spent a bit of time this morning doing what anyone with a question does these days -- googling. It turns out that among the different types of prayer there are "undirected" -- Thy will be done -- and "intercessory," in which the prayer intercedes with God for the prayee. (And I can't help pointing out that if you can say "intercessory" three times fast, it's yours.)

Quakers aren't big on intercessory prayer. The closest we come is "holding people in the Light." When I was a child, I had a beautiful image of the afflicted person beamed in a golden spotlight, surrounded by the lights of those who loved him. But then, once in First Day School (like Sunday School) a discussion about praying for people left me confused. Did the number of people praying for you make a difference? So if you had more friends and people to pray for you, you'd be better off? (Then why do Popes and Presidents of the Church die?) Or was it important to get the spiritual heavyweights on your side? James (5:14-16) seems to agree with that: The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective. But then, what about people who weren't spiritually righteous, but who were fervent in their belief? Wouldn't their prayers outweigh those of someone who was righteous but disinterested? It began to sound like a cosmic poker game in which, if you want results you need to work to improve your hand.

It's really the question of results that seems to me more important. James says in the same passage that the prayer offered in faith will make the sick person well; the Lord will raise him up. But there is the undeniable fact that millions of people are prayed for and still die. I come back to a safer and more realistic prayer: to continue feeling as well as possible for as long as possible. To have the strength to bear it all.

However, I have at least as many agnostic and atheist friends as I do believers. The non-religious tend to say, "I wish I were a believer, because I'd be praying for you," or "I'm sprinkling pixie dust all over you." "You know I wish you well." "You're in my thoughts."

And that, at least for the moment, is what is so important to me, not the form of the thoughts, how they're directed, or how the person visualizes the Recipient. It is that, however they imagine it, believers and non-believers alike are holding me in the Light. And that is precious to me.