I applaud Amy Horowitz’ sensitivity and attention (‘Mystical cures for the sick, mad?’ Nov. 5, pg. 3) to a subject frequently overlooked the process of suffering and of dying. That 70 of 125 American medical schools have begun to offer courses in spirituality is on the one hand encouraging; it means that similar attention is being given to a topic of social discomfort. On the other hand, however, I must label this trend as a disturbing effort to salve our wounds with optimism rather than knowledge, and to implement wishful thinking when rigorous science should not be replaced.
That doctors are publishing books about the ‘powers of faith and optimism’ does not mean things have changed since 1784 when Benjamin Franklin pointed out the suspicious credibility of spitirual healing: ‘There being so many disorders which cure themselves and such a disposition in mankind to deceive themselves and one another.’ If prayer were so efficacious a treatment, why did the British monarchs not live longer on average than others of their station at the time, though millions daily supplicated with sincerity, ‘God Save the King?’
That a disappointing percentage of Americans believe prayer to their deity will reverse otherwise fatal conditions does not negate the fact that there is not a single case, in history, of a miraculous cure.
We should forget our insistence that the body can be healed through a nurturing of the soul when Mary Baker Eddy founder of the fallacious Christian Science failed to heal her own chronic, lifelong ailments, though she instructed countless others with her Key to the Scriptures.
What role then, should spirituality play in medicine? As a materialistic atheist, my spiritual life is confined to a pragmatic optimism that given the right conditions, human society can rise to miraculous heights. I believe that facing cheerfully those things about the universe that we cannot change (our relatively small role in the scheme of things; our limitations as mortal beings; the fundamental uncertainty that our goodness will be rewarded in a more lasting way than through the memory of those left when we have died) will help us to be more prepared to deal best with that which is in our control: our attitude toward life.
Descartes’ duality was premised on a Cartesian certainty that the mind was made of separate substance from the body, a clearer case than most of begging the question. We have yet to find a soul, and have yet to be presented with a compelling argument to add yet another obscure entity to what is already a sufficiently complicated universe.
Does prayer heal the body? Perhaps in some cases, the way a sugar pill will placate some physical complaints, the way a smile helps one bear the burden of grief or pain. I would never dispute the role a willing spirit has in the process of recovery from sickness and disease, but I caution those who would confuse my ‘spirit’ with ‘mystical essence.’ My spirit is a more mundane thing, a creature of will and work, not a vital spark or chi.
Does prayer heal the soul? I beg that it, and other nonexistent organs, not be given more consideration than fits upon the head of a pin. If I pray for anything, it is that we are, in the future, more able to disentangle our potential as a society that faces death with grace and compassion, from our history of relying on nonexistent beings to heal unnecessary spirits through unknowable means.
Zachary Bos Senior Administrative Secretary, Core Curriculum
The writer is a former editorial page editor of The Daily Free Press.