A Self Examination at Day’s End

Below is an adaptation of an old self-examination found in an Anglican book of devotions. Such tools for daily reflection, when used judiciously, can help us become more conscious of how we are living as Christians in the world.

The traditional way to use a self-examination is to take time in silence prior to our evening prayers and recollect the day and its various events, surveying the day through the self-examination, point-by-point. Some people find it helpful to keep a journal of their reflections; some find it beneficial to share the fruit of such self-examination with a spiritual director or a trusted spiritual guide; others prefer to do all of this process mentally and on their own. 

This need not be an elaborate or exhaustive practice. It should definitely not be scrupulous or perfectionistic. Its purpose is not punitive; rather, the goal is to raise consciousness and increase the intentionality of our daily Christian discipleship. This leads not to sullen frustration but joyful reliance on God.

After having spent time in reflection this way, it is customary to name before God those sins we know we have committed, followed by the confession of sin and the assurance of pardon found in the Daily Office. 

A regular practice of spiritual self-examination together with daily praise and adoration of God and thanksgivings for blessings received, will form a solid basis for progress in spiritual life. 

A Daily Self-Examination 

- How have I spent this day?

- Have I striven to remember God’s presence, and to do all things as in the sight of, and offered to, God?

- What has been the character of my prayer through the day?

- How have my actions been performed, and what has been the nature of my contact with others?

- How have I been faithful to God today?

- When did I call upon God for wisdom or strength?

- What time was wasted or ill-used?

- What duties have I neglected towards God, my neighbor, or myself?

- Of what sins—in thought, word, and deed; done or left undone—am I conscious?

- Have I fallen today into my besetting sin, and if so, why and under what circumstances?

Jethro's Wise Advice

Moses’ father-in-law said to him, ‘What you are doing is not good. You will surely wear yourself out, both you and these people with you. For the task is too heavy for you; you cannot do it alone. Now listen to me. I will give you counsel, and God be with you! You should represent the people before God, and you should bring their cases before God; teach them the statutes and instructions and make known to them the way they are to go and the things they are to do. You should also look for able men among all the people, men who fear God, are trustworthy, and hate dishonest gain; set such men over them as officers over thousands, hundreds, fifties and tens. Let them sit as judges for the people at all times; let them bring every important case to you, but decide every minor case themselves. So it will be easier for you, and they will bear the burden with you. If you do this, and God so commands you, then you will be able to endure, and all these people will go to their home in peace.’ (Exodus 18:17-23, NRSV)

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I have always found this part of Exodus quite interesting. On one level, it is intriguing that after all the dramatic events of Israel’s deliverance at the Red Sea and the struggles in the Wilderness (thirst, rebellion, hunger, battles, &c.) we suddenly have a highly personal moment with Moses and his father-in-law, Jethro (a non-Israelite), wherein Moses gets some trenchant advice. On another level, this passage helps me to maintain focus as a priest, pastor, and leader.

When I have heard or given sermons on this passage (usually at the Embertides when it is appointed to be read), the natural tendency is to treat it very much as “management,” combined with some enlightened teaching on ministry-of-all-the-faithful, seasoned with a dash of needed humility: an altogether attractive package of servant leadership very much in in the form we currently (officially) admire in the Church today. This is true and helpful, but not enough.

As I read it at Mattins today, I was reflecting on another way of looking at this passage. This involves going ‘round to the other end of the telescope and looking back, as it were. In addition to helping Moses learn the value of delegation, this section of Exodus may also be read as help in getting Moses to be about his real calling: truly leading God's people through a focused, prayerful life of encounter with God.

Jethro’s advice was for Moses to deal only with the “hard cases,” those beyond what a well-trained team of assistants could provide. This left time for Moses to pray, reflect, and listen; in the words of the text, “to endure.” This is terribly important in a modern technology-focused world where multi-tasking is implicitly valued and encouraged.

Multi-tasking is not exactly new. It is said that Napoleon could manage up to seven conversations simultaneously when in the midst of a battle or in his administrative “office hours.” I think, however, most of us cannot manage this.

And neither should we.

Parsonhood, the concept behind my approach to being a priest/pastor in this tradition, is based in large part upon the idea of role clarity.  By this, I mean the recognition that each part of the Body has its proper function and that the best health in the Body is achieved when each part is doing its work well and with proper respect for the other parts.

Multi-tasking, tempting as it may be, always means a degraded form of attention; it means not doing one’s own work well—and likely messing up someone else’s into the bargain. In the Christian Church, it often means a kind of false efficiency leading to personal and communal spiritual sterility.

Jethro’s wise advice to Moses not only opens the doors to shared leadership, but also frees Moses to do what he was truly called and gifted to do as a leader: to embody true personhood, not be a sort of spiritual factory churning out decisions and “product.”

I think leading this way requires real commitment and clarity. Doing the easy thing, the conventional path of putting out fires, chasing ambulances, and “meeting needs” is surely appreciated and rewarded in the Church today, but it leads to burn-out rather than endurance.

Parsonhood assumes ongoing, solid growth in discipleship and spiritual understanding, something impossible if we set up ministry to be primarily about crisis-management. Jethro saw this and impressed it on his son-in-law’s mind. Moses had the humility and wisdom to accept it.

My question is who or what in the Church today is taking Jethro’s part and upholding this principle?

Genesis 43:5 -- The Gospel in Miniature

"Ye shall not see my face, except your brother be with you."

As we read the story of Joseph from the book of Genesis this Lent, I am reminded of a lecture given by then-Archbishop of Canterbury Michael Ramsey. The lecture's topic was the Holy Spirit, and in illustrating a point he made a comment--almost an aside--which has stayed with me over the years. 

He spoke about the centrality of care for the Other in the Christian faith, summing it up in those words from the King James version of the Forty-Third Chapter of Genesis: "Ye shall not see my face, except your brother be with you." Ramsey said this was, in a sense, the Gospel in miniature. 

There is another saying (I forget the source) along much the same lines: "If you seek salvation, look to your brother." 

In our day, we would perhaps modify these to "sister and brother," but the meaning remains the same: our salvation is connected to our love and care for the others in our life. There is no such thing as a completely individual Christianity; indeed, an individualistic faith is blasphemous and the religion of demons. The Gospel of  Jesus Christ makes this completely clear: to love God means loving the neighbor in real, tangible ways.

This is particularly important to keep in mind during Lent. Two of the great disciplines of this season--fasting and prayer--must not overshadow the third: Mercy. They are completely interconnected and mutually-reinforcing. It is mercy which seems particularly in short supply right now.

We hear much about justice today, and justice is indeed essential both for our faith and our society. However, mercy marks the Christian life most profoundly, for mercy is what God has shown us rather than justice. As a matter of justice, what humans have done and continue to do to each other, to the environment, and in response to God's love would merit our extinction, not our vindication in a court of law.

But this is not what the Gospel proposes. Rather, it is by the conscious reception of God's mercy in Christ to us that we may become merciful to others--recognizing their just claims and seeing our absolute dependence on their fair treatment as the criterion of our own salvation, much as we say "forgive us our sins as we forgive others" in the Lord's Prayer. This is the message of the Christ's cross, not of Justice's balance.

We seem uncomfortable with mercy today, preferring the sharper language of judgment, blame, shame, and condemnation. This is a sad replay of earlier patterns in our society, which seems always drawn to harshness rather than compassion. We often act as if we believe that eventually, force will make us love each other.

Compelling people to love the Other never works. It is only by a recognition of our own completion in our brother or sister that we can truly understand the meaning implicit it "Love your neighbor as your self" or the hidden meaning of the words of Joseph's command. Understanding and accepting God's mercy for us unlocks this recognition. 

When God came into our world to share our life--sharing it to the very end--the best excuse we could have for walling ourselves off from each other was removed. If God could do this, so may we. By becoming part of Christ's living Body, we are now able to let him work through us to overcome barriers in love and mercy. We do not have to do this on our own. We do not have to wait for the other person to blink or capitulate or even change. We are free to love now because we ourselves may know we are beloved of God--warts and all, even in our present condition.

This is a new language for humanity. It is not "natural" for us in our present broken condition. To learn this language means a dedication and persistence available only through communion with our Triune God. There can be no "instant justice" in human affairs nor can mercy flow unceasingly from human hearts without deep humility arising from regular repentance. All the essentials of the Gospel are woven in a seamless garment, like Christ's robe. Teaching and practicing these essentials is the ongoing work of the Church's inner life...an inner life nourishing its mission to the whole Cosmos.

With so many today receiving so little justice or mercy, a true Lenten fast will lead not to impotent anger or self-righteous blame, but to a greater thirst for the good of the Other, and to each of us discerning how we might bring our brothers and sisters along with us to the Kingdom through repentance, humility, service, and compassion. Like Joseph, we will seize the opportunities God gives us to save and serve those in need.

For truly, without them, we shall never see God's face.

A Word on Holy Patience

[Jesus] put before them another parable: ‘The kingdom of heaven may be compared to someone who sowed good seed in his field; but while everybody was asleep, an enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat, and then went away. So when the plants came up and bore grain, then the weeds appeared as well. And the slaves of the householder came and said to him, “Master, did you not sow good seed in your field? Where, then, did these weeds come from?” He answered, “An enemy has done this.” The slaves said to him, “Then do you want us to go and gather them?” But he replied, “No; for in gathering the weeds you would uproot the wheat along with them. Let both of them grow together until the harvest; and at harvest time I will tell the reapers, Collect the weeds first and bind them in bundles to be burned, but gather the wheat into my barn.” ’

Matthew 13:24-30, NRSV

Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him.

Do not fret yourself over the one who prospers, the one who succeeds in evil schemes.

Refrain from anger, leave rage alone; do not fret yourself; it leads only to evil.

Psalm 37, vv. 7-9, BCP version

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The appointed morning Psalm and the Gospel lesson today in the Episcopal Daily Office Lectionary both focus on a difficult and demanding practice for disciples: holy patience. This virtue needs to be reaffirmed in our troubled and angry times, both for what it is—and what it is not.

The passage from Matthew, usually referred to as the Parable of the Wheat and the Tares (or, the Wheat among the Weeds) is a parable of judgment (God’s v. ours) and also a parable urging a special kind of patience or forbearance.

This is not a passive, uninterested, or ethereal sort of patience. It does not ignore or deny suffering and wrong. It is deeply aware of and involved in the wrong of the world (likened here to the presence of a destructive weed in the midst of a good and life-sustaining food crop). But this type of patience knows that responding to the wrong with violent or aggressive anger will—no matter how gratifying in the moment, no matter how “it gets the job done”—ultimately compound the problem, ripping up good with bad and leaving the whole field in tatters.

Such an attitude is essentially atheistic, in no way relying on a deep communion with God. It is also an open invitation to yet another round of “the ends justify the means.”

Instead, the parable counsels, we must be honest about the wrong while not multiplying it. We aren’t supposed to equate wheat with weeds or good with bad…but we are to preserve the good rather than destroy it in some sort of human-directed war of attrition with the bad.

To this picture the psalm adds the observation that anger and fretting, by themselves, do not lead to the desired outcome. They are fundamentally destructive, not constructive, ways of responding to wrong. They may be “natural,” but in this world, what is “natural” for humans is generally twisted and sickened without the constant infusion of God’s grace. Rather, we are to “be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him,” which is another way of saying (in Christian terms) we must place ourselves in deep communion with God and respond (not react) when and how the Triune Majesty calls us.

The parable and the psalm here are not urging quiescence…not at all. The evils and injustices of this world must be acknowledged, confronted, and fought against. Yet, how one does this is as important as whether one does it. The admixture of anger taints and vitiates the intended good in ways that ultimately undermine the very outcome itself. Holy patience is active, dynamic, and participatory. But it is also the fruit not of anger, but of love—and the Love of Christ as found in the whole Gospel must be its criteria, not human retribution clothed in the mantle of high-minded morals.

Ideological and passionate movements are tempted to forget or downplay this—and thus plant the seeds of the next form of injustice. The value of a godly patience allows us to move from taking the false role of the One In Charge (visiting all our unexamined and ungodly “stuff” on the Other) to the true roles of servant, steward, instrument. In that is true power, true freedom—and true satisfaction.

Saul, Samuel, Agag, and the courage of learning from hard texts in Scripture...

And Samuel said, 

‘Has the Lord as great delight in burnt-offerings and sacrifices,

   as in obedience to the voice of the Lord?

Surely, to obey is better than sacrifice,

   and to heed than the fat of rams. 

For rebellion is no less a sin than divination,

   and stubbornness is like iniquity and idolatry. (1 Samuel 15:22-23a, NRSV)

The lessons from 1 Samuel this week in the Daily Office deal with something repugnant to most modern readers: a religiously-sanctioned act of genocide. God orders King Saul to exact a total retribution against the Amalekites for their previous aggression and unprovoked attacks. All of the Amalekites--men, women, children--and their possessions are to be destroyed. Nothing and no-one is to be spared.

Western liberal Christians generally approach this text with both revulsion and skepticism. The notion that God could demand such horrific violence and that such a thing was actually carried out seems criminal and impossible. In the face of ISIL and other such groups, the echoes of religious-based terrorism are deafening in these texts. 

So, mostly we just stop there and say something like: "the Old Testament is so bloody and gruesome, with a bloodthirsty God so unlike the one we worship in the New Testament." Unable to justify the Scriptures to our minds, we enter into the business of consigning them to oblivion (where they will come back to haunt us in our subconscious, popping up in unwanted ways) or the imperceptible fringes of antisemitism or its offspring, Christian supersessionism. Like people who pass over the truth of history or current events for what is going on in People Magazine, we avoid what we cannot understand or find painful.

Yet, the Holy Scriptures do not need to be "justified" in the way a current government's policies are before the press and public. The texts of the Bible are there to be entered into or rejected, but not made merely palatable. Attempts to do so miss the point, much like contemporary attempts to smooth out the news, "spin-doctoring" facts that are painful, confusing, bewildering, or illogical.

The story of King Saul, his rise and fall, his complex relationship with Samuel, with the Hebrew nation, and with God, is remarkably contemporary for something so very old. There is a great deal to be learned from it, if we have the courage. Entering into the story rather than holding it at arms-length and judging it allows for much more insight and even--gasp--application.

One of the most fascinating parts of this story occurs when Saul goes ahead without Samuel and mixes his royal role as commander with the priestly one of offering sacrifice. The priest-king ideal (so often found in ancient near-eastern monarchies and exemplified in Holy Scripture by Melchizedeck and Jesus Christ), when activated by Saul, seems to be the "third rail" for Samuel, bringing on a final condemnation and annulment of God's support after Saul's previous disobedience to God by not destroying all the booty from the Amalekites. Saul's reasoning in response--Samuel taking his sweet time getting to the sacrificial rite and the clamor of the people for action--only reinforces Samuel's anger (and, seemingly, God's rejection). Here, if we have the patience of learners (rather than the impetuousness of dilettantes), we can pause and ponder. 

Saul, a creation of Israel's desire for a unified political-military leader, becomes aware of the utility of joining spiritual power (ritual sacrifice) with what he already possesses. In so doing, he is taking on something not specifically granted to him by God (or the cantankerous Samuel). He is also fusing two kinds of power that require the ingredient of obedience to God in order to be effective. By bending to the will of the people who are demanding this fusion of power, Saul is showing what kind of a king he has become: weak, dangerous, and unstable. This will be drawn out later in the story of his tortured and destructive relationship with David. There, Saul is willing even to destroy his own line's future to preserve his own power. Such kingship cannot be good for the people, does not honor God, and cannot stand.

Samuel voices this in his rebuke to Saul in the above-quoted passage. He calls out the central problem: Saul puts outward, cultic practice above inner spiritual obedience. David, for all his faults later on, resists this. Saul's actions betray a fundamental misuse of his position that drags God's authority into dynastic politics, one that we have seen again and again in political leaders/rulers when they try to fuse their earthly power with the divine. Such a fusion is, as Samuel points out, really just another form of idolatry and divination...a way around the primary commitment to the One God who has revealed the divine will and justice.

That justice is very hard to square with human justice. Various attempts have been made to do so, and they all come up unconvincing. The Summary of the Law ("Love God with all your heart, mind, and strength; love your neighbor as yourself") is about as clear as we can get; but, in the end, the Christian religion points to the Cross of our crucified Lord (the one who is without sin and takes on all our sin, shame, alienation, and misuse and offers it to God as the perfect priest-kingly offering) and says, in effect: "Let that be an end to all offerings of justification."

And so should it be an end to all attempts to fuse sacred and political power. Saul's stubborn desire to rule in God's Name, yet on his own terms, sounds suspiciously familiar to Anglican ears. Henry VIII would try to do much the same, setting up a national conflagration not able to be put out for nearly one hundred and fifty years...and which in some ways, burns still in our tradition.

This passage from 1 Samuel also calls into question the repeated attempts to "pretty-up" spiritual wrong by wrapping it in priestly garments. We have seen a great deal of this in Chrsitian history, perhaps most devastatingly in recent years over the child sex scandals in the Roman Catholic Church, but certainly each tradition in Christianity has been guilty of this in one way or another. Samuel's question to Saul ("Has the Lord as great delight in burnt-offerings and sacrifices, as in obedience to the voice of the Lord?") remains pointed at us today. How do each of us individually, and Christian communities in aggregate, find ways to cover over our lack of faithfulness to God by applying "religious makeup" to hide or legitimize the disgrace?

The slaughter of the Amalekites, which frames this passage, remains a true horror. Just after this section, their king Agag is brought before Samuel. The Amalekites' many crimes are recalled, and Agag is killed, being "hewn in pieces" by his executioner in what can only be described as an act of religious butchery. Any attempt to minimize or "justify" this is, I think, pitiful and immoral. Like the horrors we know of in our own national, family, or personal history, there are chapters which--no matter how much we believe them to have been necessary or appropriate--we cannot fully understand or approve. Anyone, religious or not, has a lot of reckoning to do when dealing with the full account of his or her own story.

But the work of faith will not let us shrink from this accounting; it requires that we enter into it and grapple with it, learning at each approach what we may, and offering what we do not understand back to God (something secular people cannot do). Some things, perhaps, ultimately have little to teach us. Others, once thought irrelevant, suddenly are shown to hold great meaning for us, when we are ready. This is one of the ways Anglicans approach Sacred Scripture, a way requiring maturity, perseverance, and humility.

We cannot know when a particular verse, story, phrase, or image will open up into a vista of revelation that changes or enriches us. Our limited perspective requires the activity and guidance of the Holy Spirit for the right timing (do we adequately appreciate how important or freeing this is?)  We just keep entering in through the gates of prayer and openness--precisely what King Saul lacked. That, too, is part of the loving obedience for us as believers, an obedience helping us gain the fruit of Christ's sacrifice of Love, a love that re-focusses our search for more Amalekites to slaughter from people we do not like to the sins that lie in our own hearts.

Prayers at Rising: A Simple Form to Begin the Day

Every Christian is called to pray. There are many ways to do this. One is to mark the central moments of our day with particular prayers. It is an ancient and very laudable custom to begin the day with prayer immediately upon arising. One way to do this is to have a set group of prayers nearby that focus on greeting the new day and yet allow some flexibility in remembering particular persons or concerns. This group of prayers seeks to address this need.

The form begins with the "customary prayers" (the Our Father, the Hail Mary, and the Apostles' Creed) often said before any Office. It then proceeds with a short litany for daybreak from Bp. Andrewes before a series of prayers (you may use one, a few, or all) focusing on the opportunity this new day affords for starting our life anew, intercessions for our loved-ones, awareness of our frailty and dependence on God, and then committing our day into God's hands by recalling the truth that each moment is an opportunity to share the Gospel, and each encounter is sent by God--including the challenging people and situations that may come our way. The form ends with a final commendation before we go on with the more physical and outward parts of beginning our day.

It is well to remember that each new day is a merciful gift from God in which we may indeed start again. Making a daily re-commitment to this fact is one of the central ways our prayer opens us to the Holy Spirit's work in us and is a valuable part of a Rule of Life.

If you are not going to offer a further Office (such as Morning Prayer) later on, please read a psalm and a chapter of sacred scripture after these prayers. It is essential that Christians enter into regular study and listening to God in the holy words of the Bible as a compliment to their prayers.

Prayers at Rising

In the X Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

[Our Father, &c.]    [Hail, Mary, &c.]    [I believe, &c.]

Glory to you Lord, O Lord, glory to you, glory to you who have given me sleep for the refreshing of my weakness, and to restore the labors of this fretful body.

To this day and all days, a perfect, peaceful, healthy, and sinless course:

Grant this, Lord.

An angel of peace, a faithful guide, guardian of soul and body, to pitch a tent around me, and always to prompt what brings salvation:

Grant this, Lord.

Pardon X and remission of all sins and offences:

Grant this, Lord.

To our souls, what is good and becoming, and peace to the world:

Grant this, Lord.

Repentance and discipline for the rest of our life, and health and peace to the end:

Grant this, Lord.

Whatever is true, whatever is honest, whatever is just, whatever pure, whatever lovely, whatever of good report, if there be any virtue, and praise, such thoughts, such deeds:

Grant this, Lord.

A Christian close, without sin, without blame, and if it please you without pain, and a good answer at the awesome and testing judgment-seat of Jesus Christ our Lord:

Grant this, Lord.

O God, you are my God, and you have made me for yourself. O Lord, Heavenly Father, to you I devote my heart, and my entire life. Grant me your grace that this day I may live in your presence, and walk in the path of your commandments, following the example of my Savior Christ, and being made like unto him. Give to me your Holy Spirit that, trusting only in him, I may overcome those sins which beset me. Grant, O gracious God, to me and to [names] such blessings as we need. I ask in the name of Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Lord God, almighty and everlasting Father, you have brought me in safety to this new day:  Preserve me with your mighty power, that I may not fall into sin, nor be overcome by adversity; and in all I do, direct me to the fulfilling of your purpose; through Jesus Christ our Lord.  Amen.

Let this my prayer, O Lord, come before you in the morning. You took upon yourself our feeble and suffering nature; grant me to pass this day in gladness and peace, without stumbling and without stain; that reaching the eventide without any temptation, I may praise you the eternal King: through your mercy, O our God, who is blessed, living and governing all things, world without end. Amen.

Lord, give me the strength to greet the coming day in peace. Help me in all things to rely on your holy will. Reveal your will to me every hour of the day. Bless my dealings with all people. Teach me to treat all people who come to me throughout the day with peace of soul and with firm conviction that your will governs all. In all my deeds and words guide my thoughts and feelings. In unexpected events, let me not forget that all are sent by you. Teach me to act firmly and wisely, without embittering and embarrassing others. Give me the physical strength to bear the labors of this day. Direct my will, teach me to pray, and you yourself, pray in me. Amen.

At the prayers of St. Mary, (N.N.), and all the saints, may the Almighty and Merciful Lord X Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, bless and preserve me, and bring me to life everlasting. Amen.