Lectio Divina is Saving My Life

Lectio divina is saving my life. Let me tell you why.

Last week at our Good Friday service our pastor asked me to find some music to play while everyone was gathering. This meant that I had to go to my office, plug in my iPod, and find something on iTunes. I realized something about myself during this little task, which is that you cannot ask a person like me to do something like this. It's not that I don't want to help. Quite the opposite, in fact. I want to help a little much for my own good. I want to narrow down all of the contemplative music that I have on my computer, sort out the ones with vocals, and then listen to each one that's left, ruling out along the way the ones that sounds a little creepy or disjointed. I can't just find something and that's the problem. I have to make an informed decision, which means that I have to listen to every single piece of music I own. Did I mention that we had ten minutes before the service started?

I am finding this to be true in a lot of other ways. I won't begin a task unless I have time to finish. I refuse to do something because I don't understand it, which means that in order to understand it I have to become and expert, but I don't have time for all of that so I don't even bother. I find this especially true when I read Scripture. I have been wanting to inhale large chunks of Scripture in order to get a better handle on the narrative flow of the bible. The problem when I do this is that about a week later I am wounded from not reading the bible with any sense of devotion. I know that makes me sound really evangelical, but I hope it's more like me sounding like I believe God can speak to me through these words, because most of the time I feel like that's all I've got.

But ... lectio divina is saving my life.

I accidentally started practicing lectio during Holy Week and I haven't been able to stop. A person like me lives in his head. If Richard Rohr is right, we enter the world either through our hearts, guts, or heads. We're either primarily emotional, intuitive, or intellectual people. And this isn't say that some are smarter or whatever. It's just that we each lean toward one more than the others. For me, lectio allows me to put something in my head and hold onto it for day. It slows me down, helping me to pay attention to my breathing, which inevitably stirs something up in soul that I need to pay attention to. Typically, when I read long chunks of Scripture I start to think about how many theology books I haven't read. And then I put the bible down and go read those books, only to find that after a few days I realize I am not reading the bible enough. And it goes on and one. I think paying attention to what is stirred up is a better way to spend my time. I don't need any more guilt about not reading enough.

I am a bit of a headcase, but then again that's how I roll, according to Rohr.

In any case, in an effort to let the words of Scripture take a little more precedence in my life, I am forgoing my usual fifteen minute sermon at the Kansas City Rescue Mission tonight. Instead, we're going to read the bible slowly and thoughtful, maybe even meditatively, and by God's grace contemplatively.

Those guys hear enough people yap at them as it is.

I hope God is good to us tonight.

Holy Saturday

Maundy Thursday Lectio and Reflection

Now before the Feast of the Passover, Jesus knowing that His hour had come that He would depart out of this world to the Father, having loved His own who were in the world, He loved them to the end. During supper, the devil having already put into the heart of Judas Iscariot, the son of Simon, to betray Him, Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into His hands, and that He had come forth from God and was going back to God, *got up from supper, and *laid aside His garments; and taking a towel, He girded Himself. Then He *poured water into the basin, and began to wash the disciples’ feet and to wipe them with the towel with which He was girded. So He *came to Simon Peter. He *said to Him, “Lord, do You wash my feet?” Jesus answered and said to him, “What I do you do not realize now, but you will understand hereafter.” Peter *said to Him, “Never shall You wash my feet!” Jesus answered him, “If I do not wash you, you have no part with Me.” Simon Peter *said to Him, “Lord, then wash not only my feet, but also my hands and my head.” Jesus *said to him, “He who has bathed needs only to wash his feet, but is completely clean; and you are clean, but not all of you.” For He knew the one who was betraying Him; for this reason He said, “Not all of you are clean. - John 13:1-11

"Maundy" comes from Latin word, mandatum, which means "mandate" or "commandment." "A new commandment I give to you," says Jesus. "That you love one another, even as I have loved you" (John 13:34).

In the synoptic gospels (Matthew, Mark,  and Luke), on the night that Jesus was betrayed, the night before His death, He blesses the bread and cup and shares them with His disciples. However, for John, in place of the last supper, he highlights Jesus washing the disciples feet. It's in the context of John's gospel where Jesus talks about the new commandment, the only commandment: love. These two images are meant to overlap. This picture of Christ's broken body and shed blood overlapping this picture of service. The image is that of the love of God, the self-emptying (kenosis) of God in Jesus for the life of the world. Love. Compassion.

I won't pretend to say I have obeyed the commands of Jesus. I will sometimes fool myself enough just to make it through the day, but the fact is I am in need of a good foot-washing, a good cleansing, a savior who knows how to navigate all of my brokenness - what I have done, what I have left undone, and what's been done to me. Most especially, my persistent refusal to bend the knee with Him, to share in the downward mobility of his life.

As Michael Lodahl writes, "But what strikes me about Jesus, time and again, is His amazing gift for downward mobility ... Thinking about God in that way does not come naturally - which is one of the big reasons why Jesus came. Thinking of ourselves in that way does not come naturally - which is another reason why Jesus came. This really is downward mobility, and that's a direction that most of us have little natural interest in pursuing" (When Love Bends Down, 46ff).

I wonder what would have to change about your life, family, church, politics, biases, bigotries, prejudices, ignorance, and fears for something like the downward mobility of Christ to be even remotely recognizable in you?

Lectio Divina and a quasi Holy Week reflection

I accidentally started practicing lectio divina again on Monday. I'm not exactly sure how that happened, but for some reason the fact that it was Monday of Holy Week seemed to compel me to spend time with the Scripture in a new way.

For several years now I have been reading the bible towards the end of getting a better feel for the story as a whole. This meant reading large chunks at a time. The benefit of this kind of reading is that you get through the bible very quickly, which allows you to hold on to the overarching story. The problem with this kind of reading is that one can lose touch with text as that through which God speaks. The bible quickly becomes just another book I have to read. And I don't need another one of those!

Lectio divina is a way of reading shorter passages (10-20 verses) meditatively. It involves reading a passage several times, with long moments of silence in between, paying attention to words and phrases that stand out, as well as what your feeling as you read. The goal is to submit to the words as best you can. To open yourself to the God who is speaking through the words. It's kind of like mining for gold. Scooping up and sifting through a large amount of dirt until you arrive at what you're looking for. And it's not unusual to do more scooping and sifting and listening without necessarily finding some specific and direct word from God.

Using the Revised Common Lectionary as my guide, so far I've read John 12:1-11, John 12:20-36, and John 13:21-32.

Three images have stuck with me this week.

- The first is Mary anointing Jesus' feet with oil and then cleaning them with her hair. This image of devotion is the first thing we are to think about in Holy Week. This act of devotion that seems to be more important than compassion for the poor. Or perhaps, a devotion that is more authentic than Judas faux sense of compassion. Works that arise from faith, not works absent of faith and true devotion.

- The second is the Greeks who come to the disciples asking to see Jesus. It is another image of devotion. The blessing of Abraham is reaching the nations (gentiles).

- The third is Judas betraying Jesus. And here I am deflated, reminded that no sense of devotion erases my implication in the death of Jesus. Whether I am Judas who betrays Him or Peter who denies Him, to enter the story of God in Holy Week is to spend time as His betrayer.

You may want to reflect for yourself on these images of devotion and betrayal, pausing long enough to let the weight of each have its say.