Right Reverend Michael-John, OSB – Abbot

If there is one thing that most people, even Religious, find difficult to practice, it would be lectio divina.

Let’s enter into this process with some context:

Terrence Kardong writes concerning ora, labora and lectio divina:

Ora, Labora et Lectio

It is also necessary to criticize the two-part motto Ora et Labora on the basis of Chapter 48. What we find there is really a three-part structure: Ora, Labora et Lectio. Benedict divides up the monastic day into three essential activities: prayer, labor and biblical study. A close study of his timetable indicates that about three hours were spent in church at the Divine Office; five hours were devoted to manual labor; and two or three hours were given over to biblical study. According to the seasons of the year, both natural and liturgical, this schedule was fine-tuned, but it is fixed in its three-part form. …  

What modern person works only five hours a day? According to Al Gini, it is more like ten or twelve hours a day for us, so we are clearly unlike Benedict’s monks. Admittedly, most of us would find three hours in church burdensome, even harder than work! And the very idea of Bible-study is out of the question for us, a fate worse than death. [This is true for some monks today. Search is fine, reporting sometimes OK, but lectio for lectio’s sake is not that appealing. Amj ]

But rather than stay with the founder and the ancient monks, we should turn our attention to modern American monks. How do they live out the Rule of Benedict? Do they actually live according to this other-worldly horarium? Not in any literal sense, they don’t. In fact, most American monks (and nuns) join their fellow Americans in working ten or twelve hours a day. We still spend about two hours a day in church; probably most of us have either not heard of lectio divina or else do not know what to make of it; but we are terrific workers!

In regard to lectio, we should point out right away that this is not ordinary Bible-study. In fact, a goodly number of monks in this country are good scriptural scholars and surely spend a major part of their time preparing lectures and sermons and books. But that is their work, and lectio is definitely not work. As soon as we have said that, we have to turn right around and insist that lectio is indeed hard work, very hard work. That is, no doubt, why Benedict has to appoint certain monks to patrol the monastery during the period for lectio to keep people from frittering away time in gossip and so forth. Whatever it was, it wasn’t easy.

As to the American mentality, it has always been pragmatic and activistic. From the time the Benedictines hit these shores, they were expected to teach in schools, nurse in hospitals and serve as parish priests. That is the only way the Church in this country would tolerate us. Of course, these are very valuable works that everyone recognizes as good and necessary, but the question is whether they are good work for Benedictines.

Stephen Binz writes:

Lectio divina is the Church’s most ancient way of reading the Bible. Of course, this prayerful reading of Scripture was not called lectio divina until the time of the Latin Fathers, but this must have been the way that Jesus read the Scriptures of Israel: a way that he learned from the Jewish tradition. The early Christians read the Gospels in this way too, not just as a way of learning about Jesus, but as a means of forming their lives as his disciples.

The Church Fathers spoke of lectio divina as a way of pondering the Word of God. Origen urged his readers to study and pray God’s Word, asking to be illumined by God. Jerome encouraged his audience to be fed each day with lectio divina. As the monastic movement developed, lectio divina was practiced as the daily way to communicate with God. St. Benedict established lectio divina, along with the liturgy, at the core of his Rule. The monastic tradition encouraged this slow and thoughtful reading of Scripture and the ensuing pondering of its meaning.

Other spiritual traditions practiced lectio divina in a variety of ways. St. Albert stipulated that the Carmelites should ponder the Word of God day and night. St. John of the Cross urged the practice of lectio divina in this way: “Seek in reading and you will find in meditation; knock in prayer and it will be opened to you in contemplation” (De officiis ministrorum 1, 20, 88). In Dominican spirituality, listening to the Word becomes a preparation for witnessing to the Word. St. Dominic’s eighth way of prayer, sitting with Scripture, leads to his ninth way of prayer, walking with Scripture. St. Ignatius of Loyola added dimensions of imagination, consolation, and discernment to lectio divina as he developed the Spiritual Exercises. The Society of Jesus, most commonly known as the Jesuits, teach that lectio divina forms people into contemplatives in action.

In recent years, lectio divina has been liberated from monasteries and religious houses to become the heart of lay spirituality. In his apostolic exhortation Evangelii Gaudium, Pope Francis recommended lectio divina as a “way of listening to what the Lord wishes to tell us in his word and of letting ourselves be transformed by the Spirit” (Evangelii Gaudium, 152). Lectio divina, he said, “consists of reading God’s word in a moment of prayer and allowing it to enlighten and renew us.”

Rather than keeping Scripture at a safe analytical distance, this formational reading leads us to involve ourselves intimately, openly, and receptively in what we read. Our goal is not to use the text to acquire more knowledge, or to get advice, or to form an opinion about the passage. Rather, the inspired text becomes the subject of our reading relationship and we become the object that is acted upon and shaped by Scripture. Reading with expectation, we open ourselves so that the divine Word can address us, probe us, and form us into the image of Christ.

As indicated during our time together last Sunday, Saint Benedict’s understanding of lectio divina and its application was different in a number of ways. Saint Benedict’s monks may not have been the cream of the crop; they may not have had any formal training such as an AA, BA, Masters or Doctorate. They certainly did not have a library as we understand it, they didn’t have a Scriptorium; history and culture of the time suggests that Benedicts monks probably did not read, hence the idea of memorization in hopes of some reading down the road.

What Saint Benedict left us with regarding lectio divina is an appreciation and love for God’s Word made flesh and the Sacred Writings that followed. For Saint Benedict knew that these holy Words meant life and the opposite death to the soul.

What Saint Benedict left us with is our understanding of the Day Planner or Dashboard of commitments made. Part of that understanding was a need to “NOT carve out time” for Silence and holy Reading but place it near the top of spiritual needs, time to enter into Relationship that is transformative.

I encourage that you NOT carve out time for Prayer and Lectio Divina from your day’s commitments, but place it as the crown of your day. Do not do Lectio Divina near the end of the day when life energies are spent.

It is clear from this Abbot’s understanding that Saint Benedict wanted his monks to have life and have it more abundantly because of Lectio Divina. This is my prayer for you as well. For us to best do that, we need to address our own personality, gifts, strengths and weaknesses. As a culture we no longer have the capacity to stay with one thing for any length of time. For those who preach, we now know that anything more than seven minutes is a waste of precious words on dull ears, unless it is a football game or new murder mystery.

With this said, for us to truly be Benedictines we need to rethink how we approach lectio divina. We need to see, feel and sense lectio divina as something as precious a water in a desert, as life saving as a new cancer treatment, as fundamentally necessary to life itself. We once again need to see and understand Holy Scripture as holy and scared and be desired and longed for as essential to our being.

With these understandings, we take only a small piece of holy Scripture, something that speaks and touches deeply, and memorize it. When we find our mind empty of our business, return to the passage. Let it occupy the silent places between things. This is what Benedict encourages us to do when he says that idealness is the evil one’s playground. By immediately inserting into our empty spaces holy Scripture, we enter into the presence of God to be taught what it means to be loved and cared for. The deeper meaning to the chosen passage will be revealed to you. Allow yourself to sink deep into His blessings, the river that flows from under the Throne of his presence.

If you wanted to research what others have said about your chosen passage, there are plenty of commentaries out there. Any prep work before making this “passage” part of your existence helps not God but us in holy listening.

Reflection on God’s teaching automatically requires a response from us. You need not have to color within the lines of this “coloring book” but be free to express yourself as the Spirit directs.

This is my understanding of a Return to a Primitive understand of Lectio Divina. If you find that the formal process of lectio divina feels a bit tight, take off the jacket and dive into your baptismal waters. Start anew.

Here is a Primitive example of lectio divina that may have applications yesterday and today.

In the sixth century, what was the world like for the common individual?

How did monastic life shape a person’s life?

Labora, ora et lectio divina – what do we know about Benedictine life that is not legend or tradition?

Lectio divina – a phrase, – God is my buckler and shield. How could that phrase give meaning to the monks’ existence in the sixth century? Example:

While a monk was outside of the monastery enclosure, a wild animal snarls at his presence, or an unforeseen evil threatens him; how does his Lectio divina intersect with his present reality?

A heads-up:

Lent 2021 – I will give everyone a single phrase to ruminate on. Remember that the purpose of Lectio Divina is not navel-gazing, or application of the latest introspection method, (i.e., therapy), but an outward review of self through the eyes of Christ.

How is lectio divina helping me come “face to face” with myself? How will that knowing bring me closer to God?