If ever there was a more regimented aspect to a school day, it was assembly. It’s all fading into the rear view mirror now but looking back I always wondered at its needless gravitas. The shuffling and scraping of chairs, the standing to for the arrival of the headmaster, imperious in his gown. This was followed by the drone report of sports victories and losses and the tedium of the school calendar reported in full to a captive audience. The best part occasionally was the thought for the day provided by one or other of the teachers. As with any community, some had the ability to rise above the banal and engage the audience, others not so much but a well crafted address with a philosophical turn could brighten an otherwise dull ceremony.
And then there were those other standard features, the singing of hymns, the language and logic of which was curiously and unashamedly frozen in Victorian English and the final flourish, the recital of the Lord’s Prayer, that affirmation of the Christian faith.
I always had a love of words, and poetry with its combination of rhythm, meter and metaphor gives it a special kind of power — a completeness that is well served in the creation of things like prayers, incantations, and chants.
I don’t count myself as religious though nominally, I am a Christian. I presume the ability to remember and recite the Lord’s prayer is just as intrinsic to a Christian, as the Shahada is to a Muslim (with the exception perhaps that most Christians are not as tied to their faith).
I came to reflect on that particular prayer this Christmas now thankfully past at the Christmas church. The priest had reflected on this most important of Christian festivals in his native Finnish, his words swallowed by the acoustics of the church. In due course, the congregation, which seems to shrink alarmingly each year ended with the Lord’s Prayer. This is the version I learned in school:
The Lord’s Prayer
Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name; thy kingdom come; thy will be done; on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation; but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory, for ever and ever. Amen.
Running it through my head once again in English, I was reminded of its strange combination of elements all centered around abasement to a capricious, unelected master. It starts with a salutation to this patriarch who apparently needs a bit of praise but also owns everything anyway and whose will is undisputed in his own patch as well as on earth too. He’s also responsible for the food chain so you’d better be nice to him. Meanwhile we lowly piss ants on earth need both his forgiveness for sins we have committed while simultaneously giving a free pass to those who have been unpleasant to us in various ways.
Also, to reinforce our lowly piss ant status, we freely admit that we are so weak-willed that we need him to create paternal guard rails for our baser instincts. It ends with various acknowledgements that he owns everything again (forever) and is covered in bling and can we get an amen at the end. Also, let’s not forget, as the great George Carlin pointed out in his own diatribe on religion, he’s not very good with money, at least his own, which is one of the greater ironies of the church, and rightly pointed out.
Either way, it seemed to me that in all fairness to our present Godless circumstances, I would do a re-write — one which rightly acknowledges our true undisputed mother, Nature herself and her relation to her most troubled child.
Gaia’s Prayer
Dear humans, there is no heaven, fallow be thy fields; my will be done, soon your kingdom come on earth (there is no heaven). I gave you your day, your daily bread but won’t forgive your trespasses, your trespasses against me. You led yourself into temptation for I was never evil. For this is my kingdom, my earth, my story, forever, ever after you. No men, omen. Amen.
Some cultural artefacts run out of steam and religion has been running on empty for a long time. I think it’s telling that a recent census held in the UK demonstrated that for the first time, Christians, only represented 46% of the population following a significant decline since the last census. Indeed, an increasing number polled identified themselves as having no religion at all. Evidently people are waking up to the greatest bullshit story ever told.
Despite the various protestations of world religions that their god is the one true god and He’s got our back, let’s state for the record that humans are just another species with no saviour to come to our aid. We, like all the other species extinct and going extinct are just passing through.
Mummy’s very angry and soon enough, and with our active assistance, she will shake us off like so many fleas.
Happy new year everyone.
