prayer without – Casper ter Kuile, drawing on ancient texts and modern teachers, argues that prayer can still be meaningful without belief in a listening deity—turning it instead into a discipline of honesty, connection, and intention.
For religious friends of mine. prayer opens a door to somewhere beyond reach—an unseen VIP room where you whisper what you need and hope it reaches the right ear. Casper ter Kuile never felt that kind of certainty. Getting on his knees for God, swaying back and forth, or prostrating himself feels, to him, “absurd.”.
He says he’s tried to force himself into prayer anyway. but he doesn’t believe in a deity that’s listening to complaints and desires. And he’s not alone in staying away. A 2020 Gallup survey found that less than half of Americans belong to a church, synagogue, temple, or mosque. A 2025 poll from Pew Research Center paints a tighter picture for everyday practice: only 30 percent of young adults born between 1995 and 2002 say they pray every day.
That leaves a basic question hanging in the air: if prayer isn’t a hotline to God—and if many people don’t even belong to a religious community—what is prayer supposed to do?
Ter Kuile points to one place where prayer still seems to land. Starting in the 1990s, Dr. Herbert Benson led a decade-long study on the efficacy of prayer. Benson. an esteemed cardiologist and the founder of the Institute for Mind Body Medicine at Massachusetts General Hospital. found that praying for someone who was sick had no positive impact on their recovery. But Benson’s research also found something else: there was an impact on the person doing the praying.
Ter Kuile describes that impact from his own childhood, long before he ever framed it as a spiritual practice. Around age 10 or 11. he says he’d stay over at a friend’s house and would be tucked in at night. Standing in the doorway of his friend’s bedroom. the mother would turn out the light and say “bright!”—and he and the others would answer.
“It felt good to hear those words before falling asleep,” he writes. And it felt good again, years later, to say them out loud. The memory becomes a small proof in his argument: prayer-like acts can offer psychological comfort even when you don’t believe in a listening god.
So what do you do when you refuse the premise of divine reception?
Ter Kuile begins with what he calls telling the truth. He leans on psychoanalysts Ann and Barry Ulanov. who describe prayer as “primary speech”—a basic. fundamental way we say who we are. with total honesty. In that view. prayer can include longing and love. but it can also include fear. anger. bitterness. and jealousy—the “good. the bad. and the ugly” of human experience.
He points to the Psalms of the Hebrew Bible to show what he means: people berating the divine, confessing lost hope, and even pleading for the death of their enemies. For ter Kuile, prayer is unsanitary—messy, real-talk—rather than polished and tidy.
That sentiment echoes the Russian Orthodox teacher Anthony Bloom. In his book Beginning to Pray. published more than 50 years ago. Bloom wrote that as long as people are truly themselves. “God can be present and do something with us.” But Bloom warns that when people try to be what they are not. “there is nothing left to say or have.” In that case. ter Kuile says you end up with “a fictitious personality. an unreal presence. ” one that “cannot be approached by God.”.
For ter Kuile, the best way he’s found to practice honesty without pulling God into it is writing in his journal—especially “in the dark.” He describes a kind of ugly honesty that can flow from a pen when his eyes can barely read the words on the page.
But saying those words out loud still feels difficult.
Then he turns to advice from the Rev. Alba Onofrio. a queer. feminist pastor who co-founded the Sexual Liberation Collective and focuses on eradicating shame and reclaiming sexual pleasure as a way of connecting to the divine. In one podcast episode, Onofrio tells those beginning to pray to start with words they already know. Ter Kuile recounts her prompts: Is there a song or quote someone already knows every word of—a piece of text the mind goes to when stressed or scared?. Is there something they want to learn?.
Ter Kuile says he recites poems by Marie Howe and Lucille Clifton as a form of prayer. He goes somewhere nobody can hear him and says them out loud “to get the prayer juices flowing.” He’s tried singing, too.
The harder problem remains: who is listening?
Onofrio’s response is simple. “Who do you want to talk to?” she asks in the podcast, suggesting that the point is connection. Ter Kuile says that could mean a loved one who has passed away—a grandparent. a favorite teacher or mentor. or even a pet. Onofrio also describes prayer as a kind of spiritual work: “The point of prayer is just connection…a spiritual digging the mud and silt out of the channel that connects us to the erotic. to God. to creation.” Ter Kuile connects that idea to the religious reality of saints and lesser deities. which he says can function like a phonebook of options for connection.
Even with that framework, he admits he struggles. When things get tough, he writes, an imaginary person at the other end of his prayers can still feel too abstract to be compelling.
That’s where ter Kuile brings in the Rev. Micah Bucey, who tells him you don’t need someone listening in order to benefit from prayer. Bucey. author of The Book of Tiny Prayer. has been posting very short prayers on social media since the pandemic began. In an interview, he said the necessary ingredients for his prayers are attention, intention, time, and quiet.
“Every morning, I take a moment to pay attention to my body and then the news,” Bucey told ter Kuile. “And then, I set an intention for what is mine to do today.” He uses a framework that includes naming, going in, and going out:
Naming: identify the problem, issue, or thing in need of prayer.
Going in: reflect on what the person might do differently for themselves.
Going out: look outward to consider what might be changed together with others.
Ter Kuile says he’s found the first step—naming—is where this version of prayer has its impact. Honoring hurt and anger, shame and sadness, he writes, unlocks something deeper than everyday thinking can reach.
He ends without pretending the practice is painless. He does acknowledge a small wish for a supreme being that could make things okay. But for him. prayer is less about peace and stillness than it is about struggle: the discipline of discovering what he really feels; the honesty of writing or saying it aloud; and a trust that the practice can help him do what is his to do in a world carrying so much pain and suffering.
He turns the question outward to the reader: “So, dear reader, will you pray with me?”
Casper ter Kuile prayer spirituality atheism Gallup survey Pew Research Center Herbert Benson Anthony Bloom Alba Onofrio Micah Bucey