Before I respond specifically, let me just say that I think that psychologists here have probably overstepped their rightful domain. Not that such inquiries are necessarily wrong to do (although they may be so) but rather because they’ve moved from an intra-individual exploration to an investigation in the physical rather than psychological domain.

Shawn, you are completely correct in identifying a major flaw in these studies. There is no way to adequately create either a pure treatment group or a pure control group. How can we be sure that nobody prayed for individuals in the control group? We can’t. This is a major threat to the validity of such studies.

Michael, I will reflect some of what you said. It seems true that the biblical evidence supports that at least some prayers are answered in “miraculous ways” – in ways that seem to bend the laws of medicine and science. Why is it that only some seem to do this while others – many more – seem to fall on back to the ground unheard? I rest in the goodness and love of God, who knows that for some reason these prayers would not lead to the best end.

Or…as you mention perhaps the greater miracle is that we are transformed and truly healed. My sermon on sacrifice as worship (here) was based upon this thread: what heals us is what shapes us into what we were always meant to be; what heals us is relating to our God as God through faith. That suffering and death and “unanswered” prayer does this in many people cannot be denied.

A friend once told me a story. Their father had suffered an illness and the family had prayed for his healing. In the end, he lost the fight and passed away. As they prayed after he had breathed his last, one of the person’s in the room thanked God that he had now “perfectly healed” the father. I think we should keep this in mind: to be cured from physical illness is not to be healed in the way we need to be…and so prayers might sometimes work toward that (better) end.

One final comment: Many think that the James passage is not about healing in general but healing of illness resulting from specific sins and thus, is limited in the scope of its promise.

Your line of questioning is crucial to me and my faith, and I’ve struggled with it a lot over the years. It’s not an abstract question to me. The example of children with leukemia in the 1969 study represents, to me, a 5-year-old girl with a name: Brooke Hansen. I’ve thought a lot about her life and death the last two years. She was prayed over by many who were more righteous and faithful than me. She got well for a time, but in the end we lost her all the same.

What does that say? How do these abstract study findings hold up in the face of Brooke’s reality? What does the bible say about the efficacy of prayer? It has a long and distinguished history there:

In 2 Kings 20:5 it says “Go back and tell Hezekiah, the leader of my people, ‘This is what the LORD, the God of your father David, says: I have heard your prayer and seen your tears; I will heal you…”

In Acts 28:8 it says “His father was sick in bed, suffering from fever and dysentery. Paul went in to see him and, after prayer, placed his hands on him and healed him.”

James 5:14 is most explicit of all: “And the prayer offered in faith will make the sick person well; the Lord will raise him up.” Later he repeats: “The prayer of the righteous man is powerful and effective.”

None of this would bear any importance at all if I didn’t believe deeply in the goodness and mercy of my God. We can all point to examples where we or others prayed for a non-selfish outcome and it seemed that God did indeed answer these prayers. For healing, for wisdom, for peace… How do I reconcile this with the fact – I call it a fact – that sometimes the prayers of good and righteous people, made for good and righteous causes, do NOT seem to be answered? How can my kind and merciful God heal one child and not heal Brooke?

The only answer I can come up with is that we always seem to focus on the obvious: on physical appearances, on physical healing, on wounds we can see. God isn’t limited in that way. His healing is perhaps whole-soul healing. I give you this example from a two-year-old email I still keep, with apologies to Brooke, her mother, and Carla, the oncology nurse who brought me into Brooke’s story:

——

This is a conversation her mother shared with me yesterday after talking with Brooke about dying.

“Brooke, do you ever feel like your body is just too tired to keep fighting?”

“Sometimes. But I’ll keep fighting, ok Mommy?”

“But Brooke, do you know that it’s okay for you to stop fighting?”

“It is? But then what would happen?”

“Well, sweetie, you would go to Heaven.”

“That would be okay, mom.”

“Of course it would! You don’t have to worry about being strong all the time. You can stop fighting whenever you’re ready.”

“OK, mom. I’ll think about it.”

———

Despite my mute anger at God for not healing Brooke, I find I’m making the same mistake these studies seem to be making: they attempt to measure healing as we would measure healing, in physical well-being, white blood cell counts, and in beats per minute. They rely on our perspective, and not God’s.

What if Brooke was healed in her soul? What if she healed by being given the peace and grace to let go? What if her healing was in the removal of her fears and doubts?

What if one day I find myself sitting with her beside a small sun-dappled river she says, “Thanks, Michael, for the postcards you sent me. Thanks for the prayers. They helped me let go of the old place and find my way here.”

What then could I possibly say about the failure of our prayers to heal her?

What then would these studies and surveys have to say to me?