[Nettime-bold] The War Prayer

[Pit Schultz <pit@klubradio.de>]

The War Prayer
by Mark Twain

It was a time of great and exalting excitement. The country was up in arms, 
the war was on, in every breast burned the holy fire of patriotism; the 
drums were beating, the bands playing, the toy pistols popping, the bunched 
firecrackers hissing and spluttering; on every hand and far down the 
receding and fading spread of roofs and balconies a fluttering wilderness 
of flags flashed in the sun; daily the young volunteers marched down the 
wide avenue gay and fine in their new uniforms, the proud fathers and 
mothers and sisters and sweethearts cheering them with voices choked with 
happy emotion as they swung by; nightly the packed mass meetings listened, 
panting, to patriot oratory which stirred the deepest deeps of their 
hearts, and which they interrupted at briefest intervals with cyclones of 
applause, the tears running down their cheeks the while; in the churches 
the pastors preached devotion to flag and country, and invoked the God of 
Battles beseeching His aid in our good cause in outpourings of fervid 
eloquence which moved every listener. It was indeed a glad and gracious 
time, and the half dozen rash spirits that ventured to disapprove of the 
war and cast a doubt upon its righteousness straightway got such a stern 
and angry warning that for their personal safety's sake they quickly shrank 
out of sight and offended no more in that way.
Sunday morning came -- next day the battalions would leave for the front; 
the church was filled; the volunteers were there, their young faces alight 
with martial dreams -- visions of the stern advance, the gathering 
momentum, the rushing charge, the flashing sabers, the flight of the foe, 
the tumult, the enveloping smoke, the fierce pursuit, the surrender! Then 
home from the war, bronzed heroes, welcomed, adored, submerged in golden 
seas of glory! With the volunteers sat their dear ones, proud, happy, and 
envied by the neighbors and friends who had no sons and brothers to send 
forth to the field of honor, there to win for the flag, or, failing, die 
the noblest of noble deaths. The service proceeded; a war chapter from the 
Old Testament was read; the first prayer was said; it was followed by an 
organ burst that shook the building, and with one impulse the house rose, 
with glowing eyes and beating hearts, and poured out that tremendous 
invocation
God the all-terrible! Thou who ordainest! Thunder thy clarion and lightning 
thy sword!
Then came the "long" prayer. None could remember the like of it for 
passionate pleading and moving and beautiful language. The burden of its 
supplication was, that an ever-merciful and benignant Father of us all 
would watch over our noble young soldiers, and aid, comfort, and encourage 
them in their patriotic work; bless them, shield them in the day of battle 
and the hour of peril, bear them in His mighty hand, make them strong and 
confident, invincible in the bloody onset; help them to crush the foe, 
grant to them and to their flag and country imperishable honor and glory --
An aged stranger entered and moved with slow and noiseless step up the main 
aisle, his eyes fixed upon the minister, his long body clothed in a robe 
that reached to his feet, his head bare, his white hair descending in a 
frothy cataract to his shoulders, his seamy face unnaturally pale, pale 
even to ghastliness. With all eyes following him and wondering, he made his 
silent way; without pausing, he ascended to the preacher's side and stood 
there waiting. With shut lids the preacher, unconscious of his presence, 
continued with his moving prayer, and at last finished it with the words, 
uttered in fervent appeal, "Bless our arms, grant us the victory, O Lord 
our God, Father and Protector of our land and flag!"
The stranger touched his arm, motioned him to step aside -- which the 
startled minister did -- and took his place. During some moments he 
surveyed the spellbound audience with solemn eyes, in which burned an 
uncanny light; then in a deep voice he said:
"I come from the Throne -- bearing a message from Almighty God!" The words 
smote the house with a shock; if the stranger perceived it he gave no 
attention. "He has heard the prayer of His servant your shepherd, and will 
grant it if such shall be your desire after I, His messenger, shall have 
explained to you its import -- that is to say, its full import. For it is 
like unto many of the prayers of men, in that it asks for more than he who 
utters it is aware of -- except he pause and think.
"God's servant and yours has prayed his prayer. Has he paused and taken 
thought? Is it one prayer? No, it is two -- one uttered, the other not. 
Both have reached the ear of Him Who heareth all supplications, the spoken 
and the unspoken. Ponder this -- keep it in mind. If you would beseech a 
blessing upon yourself, beware! lest without intent you invoke a curse upon 
a neighbor at the same time. If you pray for the blessing of rain upon your 
crop which needs it, by that act you are possibly praying for a curse upon 
some neighbor's crop which may not need rain and can be injured by it.
"You have heard your servant's prayer -- the uttered part of it. I am 
commissioned of God to put into words the other part of it -- that part 
which the pastor -- and also you in your hearts -- fervently prayed 
silently. And ignorantly and unthinkingly? God grant that it was so! You 
heard these words: 'Grant us the victory, O Lord our God!' That is 
sufficient. the whole of the uttered prayer is compact into those pregnant 
words. Elaborations were not necessary. When you have prayed for victory 
you have prayed for many unmentioned results which follow victory -- must 
follow it, cannot help but follow it. Upon the listening spirit of God fell 
also the unspoken part of the prayer. He commandeth me to put it into 
words. Listen!
"O Lord our Father, our young patriots, idols of our hearts, go forth to 
battle -- be Thou near them! With them -- in spirit -- we also go forth 
from the sweet peace of our beloved firesides to smite the foe. O Lord our 
God, help us to tear their soldiers to bloody shreds with our shells; help 
us to cover their smiling fields with the pale forms of their patriot dead; 
help us to drown the thunder of the guns with the shrieks of their wounded, 
writhing in pain; help us to lay waste their humble homes with a hurricane 
of fire; help us to wring the hearts of their unoffending widows with 
unavailing grief; help us to turn them out roofless with little children to 
wander unfriended the wastes of their desolated land in rags and hunger and 
thirst, sports of the sun flames of summer and the icy winds of winter, 
broken in spirit, worn with travail, imploring Thee for the refuge of the 
grave and denied it -- for our sakes who adore Thee, Lord, blast their 
hopes, blight their lives, protract their bitter pilgrimage, make heavy 
their steps, water their way with their tears, stain the white snow with 
the blood of their wounded feet! We ask it, in the spirit of love, of Him 
Who is the Source of Love, and Who is the ever-faithful refuge and friend 
of all that are sore beset and seek His aid with humble and contrite 
hearts. Amen.
[After a pause. ] "Ye have prayed it; if ye still desire it, speak! -- The 
messenger of the Most High waits!"
It was believed afterward that the man was a lunatic, because there was no 
sense in what he said.


Albert Bigelow Paine first published extracts from "The War Prayer" in his 
1912 biography of Mark Twain with the comment that the author said he had 
been urged not to publish it. According to Paine, Mark Twain acceded to its 
suppression by stating, "I have told the whole truth in that, and only dead 
mean can tell the truth in this world. It can be published after I am 
dead." A full text was collected in Europe and Elsewhere (1923).

link by jonathan prince
http://quanta-gaia.org/MarkTwain/warPrayer.html


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