As a child, my parents taught me to say my prayers before going to sleep at night. Over the years, this practice had grown and evolved. Today, as I prepare for sleep, my “bedtime prayers” are based on the tradition practiced in Christian monasteries. At the end of the day, a simple service of night prayer draws the day to a close. It’s traditionally called “Compline.”
As I crawl into bed each night, before I sleep I pray all or part of this night prayer. It begins with an examination of the day, assessing what I’ve done and not done to be a better person. This is followed by a psalm, a short reading, and the canticle of Simeon taken from Luke’s gospel. Legend has it that Simeon was an old man who waited in the Jerusalem temple for the messiah to appear. When he held the infant Jesus in his arms, the story recounts that he prayed, “Now you can dismiss your servant, O God, in peace according to your word. I have seen the salvation of your people and the light for all.” In the context of night prayer, this canticle becomes an affirmation that throughout the day, the presence of the Divine was manifested in many subtle ways. With this ancient affirmation, it is time to simply rest with peace.
Many nights, praying Compline is based on rote. However, there are nights when I take a bit more time and use a prayer book to slowly pray this traditional night-time devotion. On the table beside my bed is a copy of A New Zealand Prayer Book – the official prayer book of the Anglican Church of New Zealand. The New Zealand Prayer Book is poetic and contemporary, using inclusive idioms and rich metaphors. It’s far more inviting than other similar kinds of books commonly found in North America.
The service of Night Prayer begins with a simple but powerful invocation. It would be easy to miss its significance because of the traditional formula.
“Dear God,
That you for all that is good,
for our creation and our humanity…..”
Each time I begin the prayer, I’m overcome with a powerful reality: not only am I called to be thankful for having been created but also I am called to be thankful for being human.
It’s all too easy to view our humanity as something limiting, and something that holds us back and makes us less than we could be. After all, “I’m only human!” How can we forget: “To ere is human!” Yet, to be human is an amazing gift. As cosmologist Carl Sagan explained, we are the stuff of the stars reflecting back on itself! It’s something for which to be thankful.
Yes, our experience of humanity is to be limited. But to be – to simply exist – means that limitations define existence. For example, a pine tree is a wonderful tree. It’s tall, green, and fragrant. But it’s limited. It’s not an apple tree. Similarly, sunflowers brighten the day with their stately height and gleaming yellow petals. But a sunflower is far different from a rose. Try as it might, a sunflower will never be a rose and a rose will never be a sunflower.
We are each created as human beings. We are each unique. That’s a wonderful and amazing thing. By being who we are, we aren’t someone else. I look at the world from the height of 5’7”. Try as I might, I’ll never be 6’4”. But why do I need to be taller? Why do I need to be different from the person I am? It’s my limitations that make me a distinct and unique person. These “limitations” are actually the genuine characteristics of self. Without them, what would we possibly be? Would we exist at all?
Often, we strive to be people we’re not. Such strivings pull us away from affirming who we were created to be. In that, we miss the wonder and mystery of our own birth and development that is profoundly sacred.
The New Zealand Prayer Book recognizes this human tendency. As part of the examination of the day, in a kind of confession and supplication, the words of the prayer book again inspire:
“We forget that we are your home.
Spirit of God, dwell in us.”
To be human is to be the home for the Life-Creating Spirit. The legend of the Judeo-Christian scriptures explains that the Creator breathed the breath of life into our nostrils. This draws us to consider that our very breath that animates us is itself Divine. This breath nourishes every cell in our bodies. Further, as we exhale, this breath provides nourishment to plants and trees as we exhale carbon dioxide. Our breathing is the circle of life’s nourishment and a symbol of the Divine in and around us.
For me, the practice of saying my prayers before bed is a reminder of who I am. It is a reminder to be grateful for being the person I was created to be. I am human. I am animated by something wonderfully Divine. I live as part of a grand mysterious cycle of life. With that sense of wonder, I am able to rest at peace for the night.
