A Rubric for Measuring Your Spirituality

"But to me it is a very small thing that I may be examined by you, or by any human court; in fact, I do not even examine myself. For I am conscious of nothing against myself, yet I am not by this acquitted; but the one who examines me is the Lord. Therefore do not go on passing judgment before the time, but wait until the Lord comes who will both bring to light the things hidden in the darkness and disclose the motives of men’s hearts; and then each man’s praise will come to him from God" (I Corinthians 4:3-5).

                                

Category The categories list indicators of spiritual progress.	Raw Score Score yourself in each category on a scale of 1 (sinner) to 10 (saint).	Weight Some indicators of spiritual progress are more important than others. Multiply your raw score by the weight factor given for each category to get your weighted score.	Weighted Score Add all of the weighted scores together to get the true measure of your spirituality.
Testimony		x 0	=
Church attendance		x 0	=
Tithe and offering		x 0	=
Prayer and worship		x 0	=
Control over external sins		x 0	=
Missions trips		x 0	=
Control over internal sins		x 0	=
How close you feel to God		x 0	=
How much others look up to you as a spiritual person		x 0	=
Any other category by which you might try to measure your own spiritual progress		x 0	=
God’s view of you		x 100	=
Total Spirituality Score:

After being on the spiritual journey for some time, we may feel that we've really made some progress. But then we may slowly or suddenly run into a patch where we feel that that progress was all an illusion. For instance, I get so irritated when my two-year old daughter cries and whines over the slightest things--she's always crying! and whining!--I can't stand it! But then, I think, Where did the fruit of the spirit go? Wasn't I more patient than this a year ago? Shouldn't I be even more patient than ever by now?

The wisdom of St. Paul in the passage quoted above is very useful here. He points to an authentic humility, neither inflating nor deflating one's sense of one's self but rather giving the whole matter over to God. There are no meaningful measures--church attendance, feelings of holiness, amount of giving, time spent in prayer--by which we might rightly judge our own progress. What seems like a slump might be a time of hidden growth. What seems like regression in one area might be a time when one is growing in another area. What seems like great progress may be in fact only a little progress. Only God has an accurate perspective. 

Constant self-assessment is counterproductive, as it takes time, adds worry, and is bound to be inaccurate. Students learning to write often lose control over skills that they had already mastered while they are working on new skills. For instance, their grammar may become sloppy for a time while they are working on critical thinking. In such cases, they may seem to regress while in fact they are making significant progress. The same seems to be the case in the spiritual life. 

What I think the answer is is this. Seek God's perspective the best you can. But don't worry about how far you have come or not come. Instead, gently--though sometimes also fervently--keep on practicing, practicing the spiritual disciplines, practicing the presence of God, practicing the fruit of the spirit. And leave the results or lack of results to God who knows and loves us more than we know or love ourselves.

May we do this.

A New Contemplative Seeker and A New Book

Greetings all,

I just wanted to drop a note about some of the things going on in my world in relation to contemplation. I have been meeting with a fellow United Methodist pastor for about a month doing some lectionary studies and discussion. Last week the topic of contemplation came up, and he informed me that he was interesting in mysticism and was reading some books about it. He told me that he had just started reading Richard Rohr's The Naked Now: Learning to See as the Mystics See. I immediately order a copy of the book, and we are meeting in the morning to talk about it and the core practices of Centering Prayer and Lectio Divina. I can't begin to express how excited I am to have a local colleague that is inquiring about this type of spirituality! Just when you feel like a lonely Elijah, you learn that the Spirit is actually at work in many, many places!

I'm only a third of the way into Rohr's book, but it has been very intriguing so far. Here is one quote that has jumped out at me: "Yes, the mind welcomes education, but it also needs to be uneducated, to learn how much of what it 'knows' is actually mere conditioning and prejudice." p. 56, I'm humbled by the realization of just how much unknowing I lack!

Peace sisters and brothers,
Mark

At the National Cathedral

Ever since I got back from visiting with my daughter Cristin in D.C. in July, I’ve wanted to share about my experience at the National Cathedral. I tried to tie it in with all that has occurred this summer, which is a lot. But what I wrote wasn’t coming together, so I’ve decided to just keep it simple and tell about one hour in one day--the Sunday folk Eucharist at the National Cathedral.

This service was held in the basement of the grand cathedral in a small chapel and led by a woman priest. Rickey had read about her on the web site--she is in charge of the music and she leads a centering prayer group. I found her to be warm, welcoming, and humble. The refrain of the morning was "This is the folk service and we are the folk," which, translated, meant we were all invited to be active participants. We were asked to volunteer for the readings. Cristin volunteered to lead the prayers of the people and was directed to read from a simple notebook where the prayers were freshly written specifically for that day. Also, "the folk" was the choir, so we practiced the songs before the service began--the instruments were acoustic guitars. Communion was served to us as we formed a circle.

But the most meaningful part of all was when the priest announced there was no sermon, but rather a discussion. It was typed in the bulletin: in place of "Sermon" was "Discussion." She asked us to be relaxed about sharing what "struck us" (doesn't that sound familiar :-) from any of the readings. We weren't to worry about connecting to each other. She said in her experience the Holy Spirit did the connecting for us. She made some opening remarks and opened the floor. Without any dominating personalities and with relaxed politeness, about six people responded, one at a time. If they had small voices, she repeated what they said for the rest of us. With gentleness and sincerity, she added, clarified, or merely accepted what was shared.

Before we started communion, she told us she would be leaving immediately after her part because she was going to be participating in the "big service" upstairs in the main sanctuary. She said the guitar leader would finish leading us, and then there would be announcements. I loved this part-- during the announcements about four or five different lay leaders popped up and shared briefly about how we could join in a variety of social justice projects--feeding the homeless, donating food for the poor, donating personal hygiene products for the homeless, donating socks for the homeless. We were offered the opportunity to give money, but the emphasis seemed to be on how to be directly involved. Rickey's sister, who had traveled to D.C. with me, made an offering and picked up a small brochure about reaching the homeless.

When I read the brochure later, I was impressed how it began by giving specific directions for connecting people with serious needs to helpful programs—food, clothing, shelter, counseling, and jobs. God was mentioned, of course, but it seemed to represent more his open hands than religious or reprimanding words.

Before I left, I briefly toured the huge cathedral. It is an amazing structure, and I was impressed by its grandeur and beauty, but mostly I came away encouraged, inspired and moved by my experience sharing the Eucharist in the basement with other "folk," who I recognize as other livingstones.
--Anna