The Prayers We Don’t Talk About, part 1
Re-examining the Controversial World of Imprecatory Prayer
Imagine the hushed, reverent atmosphere of a modern church service—a space typically defined by “politically correct” sensibilities and an emphasis on inclusive grace. During a time for public petitions, a member stands and, with startling clarity, prays: “Let the sinners be consumed out of the earth, and let the wicked be no more.”
The silence that follows would be heavy, likely punctuated by the muffled discomfort of a congregation “aghast” at such a request. To the modern ear, this sounds unloving, perhaps even antithetical to the gospel. Yet, these are the words of Psalm 104:35, penned by David, the “man after God’s own heart.” This creates a profound theological tension for the contemporary believer: How can a “God of love” coexist with prayers that petition for the literal destruction of others? To resolve this, we must step outside our therapeutic cultural lens and explore the rigorous biblical framework of “Imprecatory Praying.”
Defining the “Malediction”
An imprecation is an invocation of judgment, calamity, or a curse upon one’s enemies—specifically, those who set themselves as enemies of God. It is a “malediction,” an enunciation of a wish for misfortune or divine “execration” to befall a target.
In our current climate, terms like “anathema” (to be set aside for destruction) feel jarring. We prefer a God who is a celestial therapist rather than the “Judge of all the earth.” However, imprecatory prayer suggests that the discomfort we feel is not a sign of our superior morality, but perhaps a symptom of our diminished view of holiness. To the biblical writers, sin was not a vague abstraction; it was committed by “sinners who sin,” and their actions were seen as a direct pollution of the harmony and glory of God’s creation.
It’s Not Just an Old Testament “Dichotomy”
A frequent impulse is to dismiss these prayers as relics of an “outdated” Old Testament God—a “dirty bully,” as some liberal theologians have suggested. Yet, to do so creates an unnatural dichotomy that destroys the continuity of Scripture. This reminds us that if we begin to disparage any portion of the Word, we set ourselves up as judges over the Text.
In reality, imprecatory language spans the entire breadth of biblical revelation. It is the foundation of covenantal renewal in Deuteronomy 27–30, and it echoes from the very altar of heaven in Revelation 6, where the martyrs cry out, “How long, O Lord… dost thou not avenge our blood?” Even the Apostle Paul, the great teacher of grace, utilized this language:
“If any man love not the Lord Jesus Christ, let him be Anathema Maranatha [doomed and damned at the coming of the Lord]… but though we, or an angel from heaven, preach any other gospel unto you… let him be accursed [anathema].” (1 Corinthians 16:22; Galatians 1:8-9)
The Logic of “Covenantal Sanctions”
To understand these “war prayers,” one must view the world through the lens of “covenantal sanctions.” Within this framework, there are only two categories of people: Covenant Keepers and Covenant Breakers. God governs the world through a dual system of results:
- Positive Sanctions: Translated as “blessings,” these are the rewards for the righteous (e.g., the prosperous tree in Psalm 1 or the enduring wealth described in Psalm 112).
- Negative Sanctions: Translated as “curses,” these represent the “crushing weight of divine wrath” upon the ungodly, who are described as “chaff which the wind driveth away.”
The imprecatory prayer is not a personal vendetta; it is a request for the Judge to apply the “negative sanctions” already established in His Law.
Why “Love Your Enemy” Isn’t About Feelings
The standard objection to imprecatory prayer is Jesus’ command to “love your enemies” (Matthew 5:44). However, the “Culture Essayist” must note that biblical love is not “gushy sentimentality” or a “fawning serpiness.” According to Romans 13:10, “love is the fulfilling of the law.” To love an enemy is to act biblically toward them, refusing to mirror their wickedness.
This is the logic of “heaping coals of fire” from Romans 12. You feed a hungry enemy not to be “nice,” but to respond with a righteousness they do not deserve. As the old anecdote goes, a woman once told her pastor she tried to “pour hot coals” on her husband’s head through kindness, but “hot water” didn’t work either. The point is not the temperature of the response, but the refusal to render evil for evil.
Furthermore, these prayers are governed by the doctrine of Election and the Everlasting Covenant. This emphasizes that “not one for whom our Lord died will be lost.” Imprecatory prayer doesn’t “send” people to hell by whim; it aligns with the state of those on whom “the wrath of God abideth” (John 3:36). Puritan David Dixon offered a crucial nuance: if an enemy belongs to “God’s election,” the church’s prayer actually aids their conversion by following them with judgment until they acknowledge their sin. The hierarchy, as Martin Luther suggested, is clear:
- Pray for their conversion.
- If they refuse, pray that their designs fail.
- If they persist, pray that their “persons perish rather than the kingdom of Christ.”
The “Covenantal Lawsuit” as a Tool for Justice
Imprecatory prayers function as a “covenantal lawsuit” brought before the divine court. They are a necessary recourse when human systems fail. In our modern world, we often feel “impotent” against executive orders, systemic injustices, or corrupt legal precedents.
Here’s a vivid analogy: in the old West, you might have pulled the bars off a jail to rescue the innocent. Today, you might have a fast car, but “it’s not as fast as a radio.” You cannot outrun the reach of modern legal systems. When human courts offer no remedy, the believer appeals to the “Judge of all the earth.”
This is a plea for the “removal of things that offend,” as seen in the parable of the wheat and the tares (Matthew 13). The righteous can only “shine forth” once the wicked—the “tares”—are removed. These prayers are a cry for the full establishment of Christ’s kingdom, where justice is finally “sent forth unto victory.”
The “Clean Hands” Requirement
The right to bring a lawsuit before the Almighty comes with a terrifying prerequisite: the “Doctrine of Clean Hands.” In any court, a person who has acted wrongly or legally will not be helped if they are guilty of the same charges they press against others.
This illustrates the tragic story of Ahab and Jezebel. Jezebel used “unclean hands” to frame Naboth for blasphemy—the very sin she was committing. While Naboth died, the divine court eventually reversed the verdict, and the judgment she sought for another was visited upon her. This places an immense burden of personal holiness on the one who prays. You cannot ask God to consume the “wickedness” of the world if you are harboring that same wickedness in your own heart.
Conclusion: A Final Thought on Sovereignty and Justice
The reality of imprecatory prayer serves as a startling reminder that this world is not a moral vacuum. It asserts that sin is not a mere mistake, but a rebellion by “sinners who sin.”
Most provocatively, these prayers remind us that this world does not belong to the “one-worlders,” the “trilateralists,” or the “wicked.” It belongs to God. While we are commanded to seek the conversion of our enemies, we are also reminded that for the Kingdom of God to be fully established, the “wheat” must eventually be separated from the “tares.”
We are left with a sobering question: In our quest to emphasize a God of mercy, have we lost the ability to cry out for a God of justice? If the “righteous shine forth” only when the things that offend are removed, then perhaps these “taboo” prayers are not a violation of love, but the ultimate expression of a longing for a world made right.