No serenity for the Serenity Prayer

I have a nice little plaque with the famous “Serenity Prayer” on it.
God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and the wisdom to know the difference.
I’ve always liked the prayer, its beautiful simplicity, its deep meanings packed into a few dense words.
And it has always seemed less Hallmark-y to me to know it was written by renowned 20th century theologian Reinhold Niebuhr.
Not so fast. The New York Times reports that his authorship of the “Serenity Prayer” is being called into question.
It is a fun little controversy that I think reflects more on the notion of authorship in western culture than either Professor Niebuhr or the prayer itself. Western literary culture is so dominated by the Romantic idea of a solitary, original “author” as being the only “true” source of a text that it becomes increasingly difficult for people to conceive of any other type of creative origins—any other kind of inspiration—to an artistic work.
This was reflected in that brief spat over Barack Obama’s apparent use of Massachusetts Governor Deval Patrick’s rhetoric in one of his own speeches, without attribution. What got lost in the political and journalistic hyper-scrutiny of the event is that what Preacher Obama did was part and parcel of the Black preaching tradition, where homiletical ideas are passed around without a second thought as to who actually “owns” those words. They’re owned by the community as a whole. They’re owned by the God who gave them in the moment of inspiration. They belong to everybody.
Of course, I always had a sneaking suspicion that Niebuhr stole the “Serenity Prayer” from Frank Costanza. Oh, wait. No. That’s “Serenity Now.”



Travis Scholl, 34, is managing editor of theological publications at Concordia Seminary. A graduate of Yale Divinity School (MDiv), he is an ordained Lutheran minister. Despite some time away, he and his wife are native St. Louisans, as will be the child they are now expecting.
Indeed, a fascinating topic. Thank you. Glad the prayer exists, regardless of who wrote it. One of my cherished possessions is from my wife, a small pocket charm — a cross — with the prayer etched on the back. I think of it every time I reach my hand in my pocket for change or my keys.