The problem with prayer

[CoxRox]

I had some nuns teaching, and other times just regular teachers. My school was a weird mixed bag, but I usually got chastized the most for my atheism by the nuns of course. ^^()

Interestingly enough I'm listening to an old podcast of the Non-Prophets where they read a section of Daniel Dennetts letter from after a very life threatening surgery he had. They read a specific section on prayer which I thought is very relevant to the conversation. It's linked here: http://www.edge.org/3rd_culture/dennett0...index.html

The specific section on prayer is the 9th paragraph if you want to skip over the rest but I recommend reading it in entirety. Good stuff.

Have just read the article. Very interesting. I completely understand the points he makes. Thanks for that.

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Nuns scared me shitless when I was a child. My family was not catholic, but my mum used to send laundry to a local MAGDALENE prison, where " fallen women " were sent to work as slaves under the iron heel of those nuns. I had to go and collect the washing. The building was a gothic monstrosity. I was full of dread and trepidation as I walked hesitantly over the cobbled stones to knock on huge, locked sliding doors, knowing that when pulled back, there to greet me would be a vile penguin-like creature. The smell from inside was also vile...washing smells, but not pleasant and I gaped in wonder at the piniform-wearing females with gaunt faces, slaving away in mountains of dirty product. I didn't know at the time what that regime represented, but I sensed the evil from those nun creatures!

I must say that my experience of nuns on the whole is a positive one. Maybe this is because they were nuns who lived in the community. There was a convent near the park where I used to play when I was little and I hurt myself once and went and knocked on the door. A rosy cheeked sister answered (I can see her now in my mind's eye) and ushered me in with soothing sounds and tended to my cut forehead and said I was a sensible girl to seek help. She sent me on my way with a hand full of sweets. It's amazing how some of them were so sadistic- the ones I've read about in the 'homes' in Ireland. I also had a pen pal who was a nun in Birmingham. She wrote lovely letters to me. They weren't all bad.