There is a great difference between theological speculation on the truths of faith and faith itself. As Christians, we have to interiorize the truths of faith, so that we can understand them at the level of the heart as well as at the level of the mind.

Lectio divina has a long tradition in the Christian church which was brought to full bloom in the monasteries during the Middle Ages. This Latin term literally means divine reading. The practice involves the reading of scripture as a divinely inspired message. It is, therefore, a special way of reading scripture. It is, above all, an exercise of faith, attentiveness, and self-surrender. It is not done with a view to exegesis, nor to researching the historical background of the text nor the philological roots of the words. Those scientific disciplines are very helpful to get at the literal meaning of the Word of God in scripture. But lectio divina is neither a study nor a science. Its purpose is not information, but insight. It is a very creative kind of reading. It is a sacred art, and like any art, requires discipline and a long apprenticeship.

The model for this kind of reading is provided by the liturgy, which, as it evolved in the early Christian church, became what might be called applied scripture; the practical application of the meaning of scripture to spiritual growth and the challenges of daily life. The mystery of Christ unfolds during the course of the major feasts and seasons of the liturgical year, as it focuses on the events of Christ's life, death, and resurrection. The liturgy is a totally comprehensive pedagogical program, teaching moral, dogmatic, ascetical, and mystical theology all at the same time and in an existential manner. Through the grace of Christ's abiding presence in the sacraments, the liturgy communicates inwardly what it commemorates outwardly in the sacred rites and celebrations of the Church.

The model for lectio divina provided by the liturgy is the action of listening to the Word of God and responding. We can only respond to something that really impresses us. The more deeply something affects us, the more completely it engages our faculties and energies, and the more profound and permanent our response is likely to be.

In the study of speculative theology and in the scientific study of scripture, a great many values are obtained, but they are all on the same level, the level of the intellect. That is fine as far as it goes, but it does not go far enough. If theology is taught only as one more science among many, the preaching of the Gospel will become sterile indeed. Even the study of scripture can become as dry as dust if the scientific approach is the only point of view the students are learning. Moreover, this approach to scripture can leave students wilted instead of inspired. This is a serious problem for seminaries today. Although they have rightly responded to the demand for scientific excellence required by our times, the education they impart is too much on the level of reasoning. The great truths that are being communicated to the heads of the students are not getting through to their hearts.

Archbishop Fulton J. Sheen used to say that in secular universities knowledge went from the notebook of the professor into the notebook of the student without passing through the minds of either. In seminaries today there is danger that the knowledge of theology and scripture may pass through the minds of the professors into the minds of the students without passing through the hearts of either. Unless it finds a place in their hearts, the message of the Gospel may be preached, but it is not going to be lived. The Gospel is addressed to the whole man, body, mind, and heart. Christian practice requires an integral approach to the Gospel. This involves study, of course, but also the effective assimilation of the truths of faith through discursive meditation, affective prayer, contemplation, and love of the person of Jesus Christ.

Christianity is not centered around a moral teaching, but around a person--one who is both man and God at the same time--two natures indissolubly linked in the oneness of a single person. The scripture is the normal way of introducing us gradually to the knowledge and love of this person. This process involves the kind of dynamic that happens in making friends with anybody. You have to spend time together, talk together, listen to each other, and get to know each other. At first you feel a little awkward and strange in one another's company, but as you get better acquainted, and especially as you begin to feel yourself going out to the goodness you perceive in each other, the amount of time spent in conversation begins to diminish. You are at ease to rest in one another's presence with just a happy sense of well-being.

The process that I have spoken of in terms of human friendship is the way lectio divina works too. In a sense, it is a methodless way of meditation. It does not depend on some particular technique, but on the natural evolution of friendship. Lectio divina is a time that one spends on a regular basis with the Word of God in scripture. It is a personal exchange. The Cistercian monks of the l2th century normally spent three hours every day in lectio divina, and longer at certain times of the year when manual labor was less demanding.

Lectio divina in the monastic setting was supported by an atmosphere of silence and solitude and a routine conducive to recollection. It was interspersed with periods of pslamody and chanting, which put the monks in a frame of mind helpful for reflection and calm. When the mind is not agitated by many thoughts, it can settle down rather quickly into a synthesis of what one has been reading or thinking. Without such supportive structure, people usually need a technique in order to enter into the kind of interior silence that is necessary for deep listening to the word of God.

A practical method of preparing for lectio is probably necessary in our contemporary world, which is so full of input from television, radio, and printed material. We are bombarded by all kinds of impressions, propaganda, and advertising all day long. Moreover, one cannot go immediately from haste, conflict, or anxiety into a state of attentiveness without some preparation. Practicing some form of meditation or technique for quieting the mind, saying a few psalms, reciting part of the Rosary, praying in tongues if one has the gift, or even some brief relaxation exercises, could help. The fruitfulness of lectio divina presupposes a certain calmness of mind when we come to it. Good sense would at least suggest using a regular time for lectio divina when we are fully awake, but before the cares of the day have gotten entrenched in our minds. Then, by reading a few pages of scripture, a few paragraphs, or perhaps only a few words, we find ourselves in the presence of God, our Father, our friend-this extraordinary person we are trying to know. We need to listen eagerly to his words, applying our whole being to them. This is the reason why the ancient custom was to read aloud, or at least to form the words on one's lips, so that the body, too, entered into the process.

The Holy Spirit inspired those who wrote the scriptures. He is also in our hearts inspiring us and teaching us how to read and listen. When these two inspirations fuse, we really understand what scripture is saying; or at least we understand what God at this moment is saying to us through it. This insight is not just an abstract reflection; it bears on our conduct. It usually speaks to our hearts. It may also suggest some concrete action: "Should I give up a certain attitude? . . . Should I make a greater effort to reach out to someone?" Since the inspiration of the Holy Spirit is a recommendation of his, we have confidence that he will help us to carry it out.

Lectio divina is like the experience of the disciples on the road to Emmaus (Luke 24:13-26). They were walking away from Jerusalem in a mood of great distress and discouragement--not good dispositions for lectio divina. Jesus came along hiding his identity at first, and asked them, "What is on your minds?" (Luke 24:17). When they related their inner turmoil, he began to explain the passages of scripture that referred to his passion and death. This is the discursive part of lectio divina, the careful reflection on what is actually said in the text. It was during this time that their hearts began to burn. When they reflected on the encounter later, they said to each other, "Were not our hearts burning when the Lord spoke to us on the road and explained the scriptures to us?" (Luke 24:32). It is the Holy Spirit, the Spirit of Christ, dwelling in our hearts, who explains the meaning of scripture when we try to understand it, not as a science, not in order to teach others, but simply as a means of communing with God.

Once Christ had prepared the disciples by opening up the deeper meaning of scripture and by awakening an ardent longing for him in their hearts, they were ready to celebrate the Eucharist. They invited him to accompany them as they entered the inn. He sat down with them and broke bread. It was at this moment that "their eyes were opened" (Luke 24:31). This was the moment of blinding insight, in which Christ, who had been hidden from them in the form of a stranger, suddenly became transparent to the eyes of their faith. They penetrated his human presence to the divine person who had always been there, but who for the first time they really saw and perceived with a living faith. This experience turned their lives around, and they went straight back to Jerusalem in haste to share their new-found enthusiasm with the other disciples. All the anxieties which had caused them to run away had disappeared instantly through the recognition of the presence of Christ. They were ready to bear witness to him without hesitation, and to live out of that experience.

Each period of lectio divina follows the same plan: reflection on the Word of God, followed by free expression of the spontaneous feelings that arise in our hearts. The whole gamut of human response to truth, beauty, goodness, and love is possible. As the heart reaches out in longing for God, it begins to penetrate the words of the sacred text. Mind and heart are united and rest in the presence of Christ. Lectio divina is a way of meditation that leads naturally to spontaneous prayer, and little by little, to moments of contemplation-to insights into the Word of God and the deeper meaning and significance of the truths of faith. This activity enables us to be nourished by the "bread of life" (John 6:35), and indeed to become the Word of God (John 6:48-51).

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Excerpted from The Heart of the World by Fr. Thomas Keating

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