Praying for the dead.

Praying for the dead is a controversial subject among Evangelicals. Because just about everybody does it. Yet just about every Evangelical preacher I’ve heard, has insisted we absolutely shouldn’t.

Yeah, you might be thinking, “I’ve never done it.” You’d be rare. When a loved one dies, usually most Christians will pray, “God, grant them peace,” or “God, grant them eternal rest,” or otherwise ask God to make sure they’re nice ’n comfortable in paradise. (Or “heaven,” because your average Christian doesn’t know squat about the afterlife, and thinks they’re in heaven.) We want the best for our loved ones, and we know God wants the best for our loved ones, and isn’t asking God for their best a form of praying for God’s will to be done? What’d be wrong with that? It’s a prayer we can be sure he’ll answer “yes” to!

Other times when a loved one dies, we Christians might not be all that sure about their eternal destination. It’ll be someone whose relationship with Jesus… well, bluntly, sucked. There are an awful lot of those! They might’ve claimed to be Christian, but never went to church, didn’t know jack squat about the bible, and Jesus’s teachings, and grace. Never displayed any good fruit—in fact they displayed quite a lot of bad fruit, and you wouldn’t know ’em from pagans if you had to pick ’em out of a lineup with paper bags over their heads. We hope they’re in paradise, but we have a bad feeling there’s every chance they may not be. So we’re praying! The prayers vary. Some of us actually try to pray ’em into paradise, if that’s possible (and it’s likely not). Others are praying for their own peace of mind; they don’t like that their loved ones may not be in paradise, but either way, God’s will be done.

Often there are those people who want God to pass a message to their loved ones. Being dead, the loved ones clearly can’t hear us, but they oughta be able to hear God. And we want them to know we love them. Or that we’re okay; or we’ll be okay, eventually. Or that we miss ’em. Or something sentimental; so God, could you let ’em know? Please? Thanks.

And, since I’m posting this on Memorial Day in the United States, there are gonna be those people who pray that God honor our dead, bless their memory, and ask that good fruit will come from their sacrifices. While some Evangelicals might claim that’s not actually praying for the dead, let’s not be hypocrites; it absolutely is, yet y’all don’t seem to have any problem with that. Heck, some of the preachers who shout, “We don’t pray for the dead!” the loudest, will eagerly lead those prayers on Memorial Day.

So who’s right? Well obviously I’m not siding with the preachers. (Not completely.)

Praying to the dead: Don’t do that.

I suspect part of the problem is Christians who mixed up their participles. They’ve confused praying for the dead, with praying to the dead. One’s okay. The other’s not.

Praying to the dead, is most definitely found in many religions. A lot of pagan folk religions believe that when people die, they ascend to a higher plane; not heaven necessarily, but somewhere above the rest of us, where they have better access to the gods and their power, and maybe could tap some of that power on our behalf. So if Grandma dies, she’s in a place where you could pray to her, and she could watch out for you like a guardian angel. In fact you’ll notice many nonreligious pagans think that’s exactly what their dead relatives are doing: When Grandma dies, she becomes an angel and watches out for you. Eternal rest?—nah, she’s gotta make sure you don’t hit too many red lights when you’re late for work!

You find forms of this belief mixed into a lot of ancient religions, which is why God told Moses he didn’t want the ancient Israelis dabbling in that. He wanted them to seek him, not dead people.

Leviticus 19.31 NET

“Do not turn to the spirits of the dead and do not seek familiar spirits to become unclean by them. I am the LORD your God.”

Deuteronomy 18.10-11 NET

10“There must never be found among you anyone who sacrifices his son or daughter in the fire, anyone who practices divination, an omen reader, a soothsayer, a sorcerer, 11one who casts spells, one who conjures up spirits [of the dead], a practitioner of the occult, or a necromancer.”

Isaiah 8.19-20 NET

19They will say to you, “Seek oracles at the pits used to conjure up underworld spirits, from the magicians who chirp and mutter incantations. Should people not seek oracles from their gods, by asking the dead about the destiny of the living?” 20Then you must recall the LORD’s instructions and the prophetic testimony of what would happen. Certainly they say such things because their minds are spiritually darkened.

Pretty much the main reason people pray to the dead is because they want stuff. Either stuff they think the dead can supernaturally get them, or supernatural knowledge they think the dead somehow have. It never seems to occur to them that the dead would be just as knowledgeable—or just as stupid—as they were when they were alive, and even if we could contact them, they’d be no help at all. Or even prank us a little by telling us ridiculous things: If your dead great-grandfather was a prankster and dirty liar when he was alive, what on earth makes you think he’d stop being that way once dead?

Of course, trying to get this stuff from the dead is an attempt to bypass God, whom they should be going to. If you want stuff, ask God. Knowledge?—ask God. Comfort?—ask God! Unlike the dead, he can grant us all that stuff, in quantities far greater than we could anticipate. Without tricks. Without appeasement. Graciously. Generously.

So yeah, don’t pray to the dead. But I was talking about praying for the dead—and that’s not at all the same thing. When we pray for the dead, we’re not asking the dead for anything. We’re asking God. We’re talking to the right guy. We’re good!

Trying to get ’em into paradise.

Now there are gonna be those Christians (and pagans) who are worried their loved ones have gone to the bad place, and want ’em to go to the good place. So they pray. Pray really hard. Because they think they’ve racked up enough points in their karmic bank for God to listen to them, and maybe let those loved ones into the good place!

Two big problems with that idea. The most obvious is the idea we’re in any way saved by karma. We’re not. At all. So even if God recognized our concept of karma whatsoever (and, of course, if our karma points were transferrable), they wouldn’t do a thing to save anyone. ’Cause we’re saved by God’s grace. He saves us ’cause we’re his kids and he loves us. No other reason. But if your dead loved ones are not his kids, because they rejected his free offer of love and forgiveness and eternal life…

Well, that’s where we run smack dab into the second problem: If people choose to reject God, whatever their reasons, we don’t get to override their choices. (Same as they don’t get to override yours!) Of course you don’t want ’em to go to the bad place; you’re not a psycho. It sucks. It breaks your heart a bit. But it’s what they chose.

I can’t pray my atheist relatives into heaven. Neither the dead ones, nor even the living ones for that matter. I’d love it if I could, but that’s not how God’s system works at all. He’s given humanity free will, so the decision to come to him or not, to love him or not, is on us individually. Even if God wanted to drag us into paradise… would it even be paradise for a person who absolutely doesn’t wanna be there? (And if that person decided to throw a tantrum about it, would it still be paradise for anyone nearby?) Even though God wants to save everybody he possibly can, there are always gonna be those who refuse him. And praying for them after they’ve died, is just as futile as when we prayed for them when they were alive: God was willing, but they were not.

Evangelical preachers who tell us, “Don’t pray for the dead!” are often doing it for this very reason: They don’t want us to waste time and effort trying to pray loved ones into heaven. They’d rather we get off this uncomfortable fixation on the dead, reenter the land of the living, and love our living neighbors. In that, I’m with them.

In all the other ways of praying for the dead: If they’re not obsessively doing it, they’re not hurting anyone. Or anything. Or themselves. Chill.