A few posts ago, when we were looking at writing prompts, we saw that some of these asked pointed questions that could help us peer into the shadowier places in our hearts. Today’s practice does that but to a much greater degree: examinations of conscience, including the most famous of these, the examen from St. Ignatius Loyola’s spiritual exercises.
Examinations of conscience are series of questions that guide a person through their day (or week, or month, or year) asking them to honestly assess the successes and failures, strengths and weaknesses, joys and sorrows they experienced, and frame their life within the context of their faith. One wonderful way to do this is by going through biblical texts such as the Ten Commandments, Beatitudes, and Fruits of the Spirit. So, for example, if I’m using the Beatitudes as my text, the prompt “Blessed are those who mourn” will direct me to questions over my attitudes towards sin and suffering in my life, in my family, in my community, society, and world as a whole, my compassion or lack thereof, and areas where I have not properly mourned, not through callousness but through refusing to acknowledge the loss or moving on too quickly. Or, using the Fruit of the Spirit, a prompt about love will ask me questions about my love of self, love of neighbour, and love of God.
But the most famous by far is the Ignatian Examen, which has been rightly called more of an examination of consciousness than an examination of conscience. Where most examinations of conscience focus on behaviour, the genius of the Examen is that it is more about paying attention to the ways God is present with us and recognizing patterns in our responses to that presence. As Jesuit writer George Aschenbrenner describes it: “We are talking about an experience in faith of growing sensitivity to the unique, intimately special ways that God’s Spirit has of approaching and calling us.” While it can still point out areas where we’ve missed the mark in our relationships, it is oriented more towards discernment, asking us to pay attention to where God might be leading us.
Ever since I first encountered examinations of consciousness almost twenty years ago, I’ve found them one of the most reliable tools to really help me assess my life, and especially my life of faith. Like so much in life, if we stop paying active attention, the habits and behaviours that will naturally slip in are the societal and cultural defaults that we likely don’t want. It’s just like how, no matter how much you may be enjoying eating healthily, if you lose focus, the foods that most readily appear on your plate and in your pantry are going to be unhealthy, heavily-processed, and sugar- and salt-laden. Or, I’m a big reader and I love reading diversely, but if I don’t actively seek out books by non-white authors and authors from around the world, I’ll notice I’ll have read ten books in a row by American White women. (And I’m not even American!) In this case, it’s not that they’re bad; it’s just that I don’t need to seek them out because they are what are present enough in the culture to cross my path if I’m not actively seeking other things. Our attitudes and behaviours work the same way. If we aren’t being intentional and paying attention, we will naturally revert to the social norms of our culture or subculture. With this in mind, examinations of conscience are a vital tool to help me stop, reflect, and remind myself of how my faith in Christ—and faithfulness to Christ—calls me to be, act, and move in the world.
The Ignatian Examen adds a further dimension to this, calling attention to the sometimes quiet ways God is guiding me towards my vocation. I’ve also made it the basis of my year-end practices, as few practices are as comprehensive in helping us understand exactly where we are at in life, and where we might be going.
For all these reasons, examinations of conscience are one of the major tools in my spiritual toolkit. I encourage you to try them. If you don’t know where to start, templates are available at the links above.
Matthew Root 