February 17, 2010 | 7:30 p.m. | Ash Wednesday

Create in Me a Clean Heart

Victoria G. Curtiss
Associate Pastor, Fourth Presbyterian Church

Psalm 51

Earlier this week I attended a lecture by John Bell, a Presbyterian from Scotland who composes wonderful worship music and liturgy. I thought I understood his Scottish accent pretty well, having gotten accustomed to our own Calum MacLeod. I appreciate Bell’s theology, so when I heard him say, “God made us for death,” I took notes and noticed my husband, Kent, who was sitting next to me, took notes too. I wasn’t sure what Bell meant, but he proceeded to talk about the importance of the psalms—all of them, not just the psalms of praise and adoration, but also psalms of lament, anger, and anguish. Afterwards I said to Kent, “So what do you think he meant by that statement, ‘God made us for death’? Do you think he meant that God created us so we can withstand the trials of life and all the anguish they bring, including our own death?” Kent looked at me quizzically and said, “He said, ‘God made us for depth!”

The drop of that one consonant reminds me of the story about the monk who had been carefully transcribing original scrolls of early church teachings week after week and one day came running out of his cell with much surprise and told his brother monks, “The word was celebrate not celibate.”

By the time my misperception was corrected, I had already been thinking about how little we speak of death. Author Parker Palmer wrote, “We live in a culture that just doesn’t want to talk about things dying. You see this all the time in institutional life. You see leaders all over the place demanding that they themselves, and the people who work for them, artificially maintain things that aren’t alive any longer and maybe never have been. Projects and programs that should have been laid down ten years ago are still on the life-support system even though they’ve been in a coma for decades” (Leading from Within, p. 14). Allowing something to die allows new life to emerge. Palmer goes on to say that the people who seem least afraid of death are scientists, because when a hypothesis fails, they learn something from the death of an idea.

But many of us fear death. That is what marks Ash Wednesday as so unusual, because we purposely face into our own physical death through the imposition of ashes and the words, “Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”

Those words haunt us with a reality check on how few days we have. Yet I find those words also strangely comforting. Hearing them matter-of-factly, in a sanctuary, reinforces that death is natural and that death is not the final word. Those words, “Remember you are dust,” also remind us that we are totally dependent upon God as the Source of our life, the Meaning of our existence, the Hope beyond our time on earth. We are but creatures, needing our creator.

It’s not just physical death we face. Jesus said, “I bid you come and die.” We are called to die to sin, to die to our own ego, to die to anything that gets in the way of our being faithful. The author of Psalm 51 recognizes this in praying, “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me.”

We cannot, of our own will and effort, create clean hearts. We are dependent on God’s healing, empowering Spirit to transform us to be in right relationship with God, with others, and with ourselves. There’s not much we can do except bring our broken, contrite hearts to God and let God work with us, forgive us, and make us whole.

There is a teaching that says, “If you want to grow spiritually, don’t do anything. Just notice.” Notice: become more attentive and aware. Noticing—reflecting with honest self-examination—is necessary to opening our hearts to God, who seeks to put a right spirit within us. St. Ignatius of Loyola, founder of the Jesuit order of priests, created a way of praying that revolves around such reflection. This prayer was what he considered the most important of all spiritual disciplines. It is called the Examen of Conscience. Praying it can open us to discover God present in all things. When practiced regularly, this prayer can lead us more and more into having a contrite and broken open heart before a God whose steadfast love and abundant mercy we can trust. I invite you to pray this way with me tonight, in the silence of the next few minutes. I will lead us through the several parts of prayer:

Centering
I invite you to set aside everything from your lap or hands. Close your eyes. Relax your body so that you are not holding tension anywhere. Take a few deep breaths in and out. Be totally present here and now.

Gratitude
Now let us remember that all we have and all we are belongs to God, who has loved us into being and will love us forever. Reflect on the last twenty-four hours. Give thanks for particular events, encounters, or insights this day has brought you as a gift. What have been the blessings? The moments of grace? Let your mind remember, and with each blessing, give thanks.

Illumination
We pray, O God, for your light, for the grace to know what otherwise might remain hidden to us. Give us eyes to see and a will that is open.

Examination
Nowlet us examine the past day in the light of Christ, grounded in thankfulness for all God has done for us. As memories unwind from the time you awakened this morning, simply observe them without judgment, not categorizing them as good or bad. Did you meet God in the joy or pain of others? Did anyone bring God to you? Was there something that happened today that gave you a keener sense of being loved? Were you angry or tired or needing God in some special way? Is there any concrete event of the day that revealed some part of your life that you are withholding from God? Is there some particular attitude, need, or relationship that calls for attention? Perhaps you failed to recognize the beauty of creation because you were preoccupied, or you refused to deal with a disagreement because you are afraid of conflict and then internalized your anger toward that person.

We are focusing on what has been happening in us. How has God been working in us? What has God been asking us?

Asking for Pardon
Now we lift up the joy or regret we feel for how we have responded, or failed to respond, to opportunities to see and to serve God. Express to God how sorry you are for your blindness or brokenness.

Also express your joy in something in this day for which you can be proud or thankful.

Resolving to Make Amends
Now let us rest in our hope for the future. Tomorrow is in God’s hands. “Forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 3:13–14). O God, we pray that we may know thee more clearly, love thee more dearly, and follow thee more nearly, day by day. Amen. (Douglas, Deborah Smith Douglas, “Put a New and Right Spirit within Me,” “The Examen Re-examined,” Weavings, March/April, 1995).

Allowing God to create in us clean hearts has less to do with focusing on where we fall short and more to do with paying attention to how God is working with us. The more we take time to notice the subtle movement of God in our lives, the more we will recognize how deep, how broad, and how high is God’s love for us. This Lent, may you let God transform you.