Sunday, March 23, 2025

You’ve likely heard the Serenity Prayer − but not its backstory

 

It may be timeless wisdom, but the prayer itself isn’t ancient. Roy Morsch/The Image Bank via Getty Images

I’m not sure when I first encountered the Serenity Prayer, or when it first occurred to me to ask who wrote it. For much of my life it never occurred to me that prayers were the kind of things that people actually wrote down, especially something as popular as the Serenity Prayer: “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to tell the difference.”

This simple, powerful sentence has been reprinted on everything from key chains and coffee mugs to tattoos and tea towels. For many people, it is probably most closely associated with 12-step recovery programs such as Alcoholics Anonymous. There, the prayer serves as a reminder both of human limits and of the fact that they do not define us.

Originally, however, the prayer was written by the American theologian Reinhold Niebuhr. For him, it was a call to confront the realities of the world with courage – relying not on one’s own power but on God’s grace.

Christian realism

Over the years, the prayer has often been attributed to other Christian writers, including Thomas Aquinas, Augustine and Francis of Assisi. Many people might be surprised to discover that, far from being penned in an ancient European monastery, the Serenity Prayer was written less than a century ago in a cottage in western Massachusetts.

Niebuhr was born the son of a German American pastor in Wright City, Missouri. He became a pastor himself, serving a congregation in Detroit before moving to New York to teach at Union Theological Seminary, where he gained recognition as a theologian, activist and social critic. His brother, H. Richard Niebuhr, also became a well-known ethicist and theologian, as did his sister Hulda.

A man with balding white hair, wearing a suit jacket and tie, sits resting his head on his hand.
Reinhold Niebuhr photographed in 1963. AP Photo

Today, Reinhold Niebuhr is probably best known as a founder of “Christian realism.” As I describe in my book “The Niebuhr Brothers for Armchair Theologians,” it is an approach to ethics grounded in the insight that human beings are called to strive toward their highest moral ideals, while recognizing our inability to fully achieve them.

This idea is captured by the title of one of his best-known books, “Moral Man and Immoral Society.” There Niebuhr argued that, while individuals are sometimes capable of acting purely from love for others, groups are not. When human beings form collectives, those collectives are ultimately capable of acting only from self-interest.

Therefore, the most that can be expected from any society is not love but justice – which approximates, but never fulfills, the demands of love.

Over the years, Niebuhr’s thought became particularly influential in politics. His work was read and respected by liberal politicians such as Arthur Schlesinger and Hubert Humphrey, who was vice president under Lyndon B. Johnson. Some of these admirers had little use for his religion, and even dubbed themselves “atheists for Niebuhr,” but they respected and embraced his insights into society.

2 versions

How then did Niebuhr come to write this prayer?

His daughter, Elisabeth Sifton, recounts the story in her book “The Serenity Prayer.” She was a girl when Niebuhr first composed the lines for a worship service near their summer home in Heath, Massachusetts. Later, as she tells it, he contributed a version to a prayer book for soldiers being shipped off to fight in World War II, and from there it eventually migrated to Alcoholics Anonymous.

A small bronze disk with 'AA' in the middle, inscribed with a prayer in all capital letters.
A sobriety medallion used in an addiction recovery program, imprinted with the Serenity Prayer. Joe van petten/Flickr, CC BY-SA

Niebuhr did not believe that prayers should be copyrighted, she writes, and never profited from its popularity – though friends would gift him with examples of Serenity Prayer kitsch, such as wood carvings and needlework.

Yet the best-known version of the prayer is not quite the version that Niebuhr originally wrote. According to Sifton, his first version read, “God, give us the grace to accept with serenity the things that cannot be changed, the courage to change the things that should be changed, and the wisdom to distinguish the one from the other.”

The differences between the two versions are subtle but significant, emphasizing themes that were central to Niebuhr’s thought. He did not simply pray for serenity, but for grace. He did not pray for courage to change what can be changed, but only for what should be changed.

And crucially, it is not an individual prayer, but collective: “grant us,” not “grant me.” Niebuhr believed that while the highest moral achievements could be attained only by individuals, constructive social change was possible only by working together for justice.

‘Saved by hope’

The Serenity Prayer in all of its forms rests on Niebuhr’s hard-won sense of history’s tragic dimension, borne of his experience of two world wars and a global depression. He recognized that even the most courageous actions are not guaranteed to succeed.

But Niebuhr was no fatalist and did not believe uncertainty was a reason not to act. On the contrary, he believed that as human beings we are obligated to enter the fray of social conflict – not with an arrogant sense of our own superiority, but with a humble recognition of our limits.

As he wrote elsewhere: “Nothing worth doing can be achieved in our lifetime; therefore we must be saved by hope. Nothing true or beautiful or good makes complete sense in any immediate context of history; therefore we must be saved by faith. Nothing we do, however virtuous, can be accomplished alone; therefore we must be saved by love.”

In the end, for Niebuhr, it is God’s grace that determines the final course of history, rather than our own actions – enabling us to accept the reality that the outcomes of our actions are often out of our hands.The Conversation

Scott Paeth, Professor of Religious Studies, DePaul University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. 

Johan Erasmus on ANC millionaires, water pollution and National Dialogue.

 Johan Erasmus on ANC millionaires, water pollution, and the National Dialogue. We are swamped by sewage, corrupt officials, and lame-duck law officials. Investigations rarely lead to criminal convictions.

 


 

 A comment**

 I agree to many of your points, I believe the ANC is pulling the wool over our eyes (using crime/unemployment/water and energy crises) to keep citizens focused on these while they corrupt our economy for their own pockets. I don't trust the Chinese they know how easy it is to bribe their agenda into African politicians minds. Economic Colonialism is cheap when it comes to most African leaders.

Thursday, February 6, 2025

CLR FOUNDATION

 


For many years, I (Delores), along with Joulene and Christopher, and a few other wonderful volunteers, have been dedicated to supporting underprivileged communities on a personal level. We have committed our time and resources to uplifting children and the elderly. Often, we personally visit those in need, offering both financial and spiritual support. Regularly, we distribute fresh fruits and vegetables to the elderly and assist children by providing school uniforms, books, and stationery.

Recognizing the growing need for structured support, we decided to establish the CLR Foundation to expand and enhance our efforts on a larger scale. We have partnered with organizations such as the United Cerebral Society, Reuven Old Age Home, Cortlands, and several special needs schools. Through collaboration with these entities, we aim to provide meaningful assistance in any way possible.

Our mission is to empower communities in need by:

  • Providing educational resources, including school uniforms, books, and stationery, to underprivileged children.
  • Delivering fresh food parcels to elderly pensioners and struggling families, nourishing both body and spirit.
  • Supporting children with special needs through building connections, securing funds, and fostering inclusivity.

With a heartfelt commitment to creating positive change, we strive to bring hope, opportunity, and support to those who need it most.

 We are in the process of launching a website and there will be a link for people to request assistance. We will be posting photos and videos of people we will assist, so updates will be continuous.

THE BEST CHARITY IS INDIVIDUAL TO INDIVIDUAL

 

We would be most grateful if you will consider donating to this worthy cause - 

 https://paypal.me/CLRFOUNDATIONZA?country.x=ZA&locale.x=en_US

or use our PayPal email - admin@clrfoundation.com

 

Sunday, December 8, 2024

Can you choose to believe something, just like that?

 

I decide, therefore I believe? duoogle/iStock via Getty Images Plus

Some years ago, I was in a lively conversation with a software developer about arguments for and against God’s existence. After discussing their merits and shortcomings, he paused – perhaps a little impatiently – and said, “You know, these arguments really don’t matter that much. I choose to believe in God. Believing is so valuable for my life.”

But is that how belief works – can you simply choose to believe?

People can, of course, choose to read certain sources, spend time with certain groups, or reflect on a certain matter – all of which influence their beliefs. But all of these choices involve evidence of some kind. We often choose which evidence to expose ourselves to, but the evidence itself seems to be in the driver’s seat in causing beliefs.

For much of the past 2,000 years, philosophers would have been perfectly comfortable with the software developer’s claim that belief is a matter of choice. A long line of distinguished thinkers – from the Stoic philosopher Epictetus and Saint Augustine of Hippo to French rationalist René Descartes and early feminist Mary Astell have held that people can exercise at least some control over their beliefs.

Over the past half-century, however, “doxastic voluntarism” – the idea that belief is under the control of the will – has been widely rejected. Most current philosophers don’t think people can immediately believe something “just like that,” simply because they want to. What beliefs someone ends up having are determined by the people and environments they are exposed to – from beliefs about a deity to beliefs about the solar system.

As a philosophy professor myself, I’ve dedicated years of reflection to this issue. I’ve come to think both camps get something right.

Reflecting reality

Some philosophers think that the nature of belief itself ensures that people cannot just choose what to believe.

They argue that beliefs have a “truth-aim” built into them: that is, beliefs characteristically represent reality. And sadly, reality often does not obey our wishes and desires; we cannot just decide to think reality is a certain way.

No matter how much I may want to be 6 feet, 8 inches tall, reality will faithfully imprint it upon my consciousness that I am 5'11" every time I glance in the mirror or make an appearance on the basketball court. Were I to resolve to believe that I am 6'8", I would quickly find that such resolutions are wholly ineffective.

An above-court photograph of several men playing basketball, with one man about to dunk the ball through the hoop.
Sometimes belief, no matter how strong, just can’t keep denying reality. skynesher/E+ via Getty Images

Or consider another example. If belief were truly voluntary, I would gladly relinquish my belief that climate change is afoot – imagine how less worried I’d be. But I cannot. The evidence, along with the widespread agreement among scientific authorities, has indelibly impressed upon my mind that climate change is part of reality.

Regardless of whether I want to believe or not believe, bare desire isn’t enough to make it happen. Beliefs seem largely outside of our direct control.

Who’s responsible?

But if that’s true, some rather alarming consequences seem to follow. It seems we had better stop blaming people for their beliefs, no matter how far-fetched.

Suppose I believe a dangerous falsehood: that Bill Gates used the COVID-19 vaccine to implant microchips in people, or that climate change is a hoax, or that the Holocaust is an elaborate fabrication. If belief is involuntary, it looks as though I am innocent of any wrongdoing. These beliefs just happened to me, so to speak. If beliefs are not voluntary, then they seem the spontaneous result of my being exposed to certain influences and ideas – including, in this case, conspiracy theory chat forums.

Now, people can choose what influences they allow into their lives – to some extent. I can decide where to gather information about climate trends: a chat forum, the mainstream media, or the United Nations’ Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change. I can decide how much to reflect on what such sources tell me, along with their motivations. Almost all contemporary philosophers think that people can exert this type of voluntary control over their beliefs.

A young woman in a pink turtleneck sits in front of open books and an open laptop at an indoor table.
We make choices about what evidence to look at – but even those choices are shaped by external influences. Maskot/Getty Images

But does that mean I am responsible for the beliefs I arrive at? Not necessarily.

After all, which sources we decide to consult, and how we evaluate them, can also be shaped by our preexisting beliefs. I am not going to trust the U.N. climate panel’s latest report if, say, I believe it is a part of a global conspiracy to curtail free markets – especially not if I had many similar beliefs drummed into me since childhood.

It gets difficult to see how individuals could have any meaningful freedom over their beliefs, or any meaningful responsibility.

The murky middle

Research has led me to think that things are a bit less grim – and a bit less black and white.

Philosopher Elizabeth Jackson and I recently carried out a study, not yet published, involving more than 300 participants. We gave them brief summaries of several scenarios where it was unclear whether an individual had committed a crime.

The evidence was ambiguous, but we asked participants whether they could choose to believe the individual was innocent “just like that,” without having to gather evidence or think critically. Many people in the study said that they could do exactly this.

It’s possible they were mistaken. Still, several recent studies at the intersection of philosophy and psychology suggest people can control some of their beliefs, especially in situations where the evidence is ambiguous.

And that describes many of the most important propositions people are forced to consider, from politics and careers to romance: Who is the best candidate? Which path should I pursue? Is she the one?

So, it looks like we have some reason to think people are able to directly control their beliefs, after all. And if the evidence for God is similarly ambiguous, perhaps my software developer was right that he could decide to believe.The Conversation

Mark Boespflug, Assistant Professor of Philosophy, Fort Lewis College

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.