The lost art of reading a text (and not just on your phone!)
Spiritual disciplines are those activities that focus us, anchor us, ground us, so that the chaos of the every day can take its place, and relationship with God comes to the center.
Lectio Divina is an ancient Christian spiritual discipline, literally meaning “holy reading.” It is a process of turning to the written word with the assumption that text can be conduit for the holy. Certainly the Abrahamic faiths - Judaism, Christianity, Islam - hold specific texts with great sacred worth. Over the centuries, in Christian monasteries, Lectio Divina was practiced by cloistered monks. But in the past several generations, thanks to the work of Father Thomas Keating and Father Thomas Merton of the Benedictine tradition, Lectio Divina and other ancient forms of contemplation have made their rise among spiritual seekers. In her 21st century guidebook, Centering Prayer and Inner Awakening, Episcopal Priest Cynthia Bourgeault, reminds us of this movement of returning to ancient practice for spiritual guidance.
In 2019, as I process these words on my laptop, and find myself distracted by the ding of my iPad, it feels secretly radical to be referencing an ancient practice of cracking the spine of a holy book and reading words as an anchor and conduit for the holy. Lectio Divina lures me to a mysterious practice where written words resonate at a different frequency than a Youtube video. I remember the times as a young seeker, when I opened books in theological libraries, and touched soft pages that had been worn by other students in search of something beyond.
Bourgeault helps us to approach the discipline of Lectio Divina with four stations - not steps that move us up and out toward graduation. Stations are not linear, but circular. We can return again and again, to meet God. The stations seem simple enough, but, as with any path to the holy, Lectio Divina ask us to practice. With discipline, Lectio Divina, can help us to practice the presence of God. I quote Bourgeault’s instructions in full:
The first station is known as lectio, or reading, At this first stage a very short (no more than a few verses) passages of scripture is read, slowly and aloud if at all possible. As this takes place, open yourself deeply to divine guidance and allow yourself to be drawn to the sentence phrase, or even single word that seems to resonate with a particular kind of vibrancy or attunement. This first and key step in lectio is founded on the faith that scripture is a living word - not just the history of an encounter with God that happened long ago, but one that continues to resonate and feed us in our times.
The second station, typically, is meditation. In this classic Christian usage, the term meditation really means a concentrated effort of the faculties. You bring your mind, your feelings, your personal associations, your visualization to bear on the passage to try to get inside it and become intimate with it. If, For example, you’ve selected for your lectio a portion of the parable of the Prodigal Son (Luke 15:11ff.), you might ask yourself which character you’re most drawn to, and why; which one most nearly resembles your own basic stance toward life. Or you might puzzle over and even struggle with the generosity of the father, pondering the meaning of his action and whether it challenges your normal sense of fairness. You might notice, in particular, your responses to his presence to the older: “My son, you are always with me, and all that I have is yours.”
The third station, oratio, means “prayer,” and it is at this stage that your own deepest feelings are invited into play. Suppose, for example, that you were pondering that sentence “My son, you are always with me and all that I have is yours,” and it suddenly struck you forcefully that, through the words of the father in this parable, God is addressing that same reassurance directly to you! Suppose you were to feel the guardedness of your own heart relaxing as the promise that you have always been seen and loved began to reverberate in you. And suppose feelings, even tears, of gratitude began to rise in you as that place deep within was touched. Then you would be having a direct experience of oratio, at its fullest. This is the station at which scripture moves down from your head and begins, through your feelings, to engage your heart.
But there is still a fourth station, which is known as contemplatio, or “contemplation.” As early as the sixth century St. Gregory defined contemplatio, as “resting with God.” At this point in the process all the mental and even emotional work is suspended. Then faculties are stilled, and one simply rests in the presence of the divine - “like a weaned child with its mother” in the words of Psalm 131, the monks’ favorite metaphor for that stage. After all the cataphatic work, you “stop,” either by conscious choice or through a suffusion of divine love (later to be known as “unfused grace”) that overwhelms the faculties and renders them into stillness.
Tonight I am studying this discipline, and Cynthia Bourgeault’s work is helping to chart my spiritual course for a new week. For the next few days I will post some of my most cherished texts. If you choose to try this discipline, feel free to comment, tell me the sacred words that lead you into meditation.
Bourgeault, Cynthia. Centering Prayer and Inner Awakening. Cowley Publications. Lanham, MD. 2004.
