"How would the average #atheist react if his daughter got #cancer? Will he pray to #science?"
When my now 30-year-old son was a baby, his mother and I had reason to suspect he had a brain tumor. As it turned out, he didn’t: what he had was a benign fluid cyst that looked *remarkably* like a certain kind of tumor on x-rays and MRIs. It took the most specialized of specialists, the Air Force’s only pediatric neuro-radio-oncologist, to figure it out. That was a terrifying couple of weeks.
I did all kinds of stuff during that time. I studied the subject, taking advantage of the medical library at the base hospital where I worked. I talked with military and civilian specialists about treatment and prognosis. I discussed options and plans with his mother. I braced myself for the horrifying conversation I expected to have with my parents when I told them what was happening to their only grandchild.
You know what I didn’t do? Pray.
See, I worked in the ER. I saw a lot of prayer. Patients praying for relief of pain. Their families praying for their survival. And chaplains praying for the souls of the dead. Because the patients’ and families’ prayers never made any difference at all.
But most of our patients survived, and left the hospital reasonably healthy and whole. It wasn’t prayer that accomplished that outcome. It was our knowledge and skill. The hard work of the medics and nurses and physicians—not just taking care of patients, but for our whole careers. Late nights and early mornings, endless hours of study and practice.
Many of my colleagues prayed too. They wanted God to guide their hands, and they believed that praying would help make that happen. I’m fine with that: whatever works for you. Me, I’ll put my trust in what I can see and touch. A whole lot of people are walking around today because that trust was warranted. I have no idea if God was there when I was working on them … but I know *I* was.
So fuck you for turning other people’s very real pain and fear and death into an excuse to evangelize. If you ever need care, I’ll give it, because I’m a better person than you. God won’t save you, but I will. Chew on that for a while: I hope it tastes like ashes in your filthy mouth.
