The Ignatian Examen
A presentation to the Daughters of the King, Grace Episcopal Church, Georgetown TX September 17, 2016
Reexamining the Examen—free app at app store. “Sleeping with Bread, Holding What Gives You Life.” available from Amazon.
I can guess that you have experienced that sometimes, our prayers (and our life in God) can get confusing, dry, drab, and tiresome. We can easily forget in times that seem spiritually murky or dark that prayer and life in God is about relationship, not just getting good things done. We easily fall into task orientation rather than practicing the Presence that is closer than near. It’s easy to think we understand God, so when something we don’t understand happens, our certitude turns to questioning.
READ John 20 Mary…while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed. She ran and told the others and then returned to the tomb, weeping because the Jesus she knew was dead and not only dead, but also the body she recognized and loved was gone as well.
She weeps for what she sees as missing, her tears making it difficult for her to recognize who is present…a Jesus in a form she’s not seen before.
One of my favorite books is a book called, “Sleeping with Bread, Holding What Gives You Life.” (Authors: Dennis, Sheila, and Matthew Linn.) It’s about St. Ignatius and his contribution of his Spiritual Exercises to the Catholic Church.
The book starts out explaining its title. It tells the story of the thousands of children who were orphaned and made homeless during the bombing raids of World War II. Some of the more fortunate ones were rescued from the streets and taken to refugee camps where they were fed and sheltered. However, because they had been through so much, they had trouble sleeping at night. They found it difficult to get to sleep, feeling an overwhelming foreboding as darkness fell. Finally asleep, they woke up after having nightmares about once again being without food and shelter and care. They were inconsolable. Someone came up with the idea to give each child a chunk of bread as they went to bed and allow them to sleep with it. The children, holding their bread, were finally able to fall asleep and stay asleep with the reminder that, “Today, I have eaten and tomorrow, I will eat again.”
This simple non-judgmental endeavor to get the kids to sleep may have been conceived by a sleep-deprived adult caregiver, but it still gives us a wonderful example of how fundamental it is as human beings to have our need witnessed and not judged. The idea was a good one because at a deep, gut level, the children sensed that they were being heard, affirmed, and supported even in their weakness.
So, when we are feeling uncertain or scared or lonely, what is the bread we can sleep with? What sort of spiritual practice might affirm and comfort us?
St. Ignatius is well known for the practice of what we know as “The Examen of Conscience.” This practice is meant to help us recognize and reveal the sometimes-camouflaged presence of God’s as we reflect on the day’s events and our reactions to them. Where have we recognized God’s presence, when and where have we not? Where have our tears, like Mary’s, or our desert-dryness disguised a different form of the Christ?
St. Ignatius’ premise is that God speaks to us in our daily lives, through what we see and feel. God speaks within our deepest experience, feelings, and yearnings. We don’t have to search far and wide to find God’s presence or guidance, we just become aware of what is happening in our lives and then, and there it IS. Like Mary, we recognize the Christ in the garden as we take time to hear Him call our name.
In the Examen of Conscience, we ask ourselves two questions: “For what moment am I most grateful for today?” And, “For what moment today am I least grateful?” These questions help us not only to take in what attracts us and gives us joy and strength, but to honestly acknowledge our pains, stresses, fears, and aversions.
Each night, Ignatius says to get in touch with what, in that day, you are most grateful for, to remember it, acknowledge it, and give thanks for it. And then ask yourself, “What was today’s low point? What am I least grateful for?” Acknowledging, naming, and owning these desolate feelings as well as the ones that bring consolation, help us to allow a place for all feelings and take some time to shine Light, while a capital “L,” on them.
In acknowledging each consolation and desolation, we are exercising and integrating into the experience two aspects of the Divine: appreciation and mercy. The best way to start recognizing God is to love yourself as a creation of God; to embrace with appreciation what you recognize as goodness and to have mercy upon what you perceive as weakness. For those who want to live a life worth living, this simple practice becomes a road map for discernment and direction. Seek more of what is life and love-giving, and listen to the messages found in what sucks life and love from you and you will find the path designed specifically for you to walk upon.
The Ignatian Examen questions help us to explore our inner depths. The “What are you grateful for” question brings focus upon what helps me find purpose and meaning and gives me an anchor when I need to access those resources in a challenging situation.
The “What are you least grateful for” question gives the event or feeling acknowledgment before it becomes a destructive action. Most of us have been taught to resist or go against desolate feelings; the idea being that if we resist, the feeling will go away. Yet, if your experience is the same as mine, feelings don’t work that way. If I resist them, they persist. On the other hand, if I give them a place to tell their story, the pesky little critters usually dissolve just as quickly as they came. (And if they hang on, I just give them more time for their story and seek some remedy.)
For instance, the other morning when I woke up, I realized I had a nagging feeling of “I’m not up to this (life) today.” I took myself to a quiet place in the house and sat and just felt that feeling and listened for it to tell me its story. I asked the one who was feeling the feeling, “Is there something you fear?” I just sat with it, acknowledged its presence and took some deep breaths to ground myself. I realized that my life was so full and chaotic right now that I was feeling overwhelmed. I asked myself, “Is there anything you can do to take care of yourself? Set boundaries? Lessen what has to be done?”
When I took the time to actually acknowledge what I was feeling, I recognized that it makes sense that I was feeling out-of-sorts, and that I felt better just taking time to look at it. And I realized that making a few changes would make the chaos more manageable. So I started to use what I do have: a little bit of wisdom. First I recognized what was missing, then I recognized what wasn’t missing! I felt better within five minutes as opposed to feeling badly the whole day.
We each, in giving mercy to our weak places have, metaphorically snuggled up with a chunk of bread that gives us the consoling sense of strength and power. I think what St. Ignatius wants us to realize is that God is present in both our strengths and weaknesses and that in generously dispensing mercy and gratitude, we become aware of that Sweet Presence, already deep inside.
Post thumbnail photo by Priscilla Du Preez on Unsplash