Divine Reading as Prayer

In my last two reflections I shared about monasticism. I am reminded about a course I took while doing my 5 years of graduate degree summer studies in liturgy at St. John’s University in Collegeville, Minnesota. The University is associated with the Benedictine monastery of St. John Abbey. Lots of monks there who teach; a large monastery; beautiful setting. (See more HERE)

I took a course slightly outside my field of studies one summer. It was in the monastic studies program and it was about lectio divina. Lectio divina is Latin for "divine reading." (Pronounced: LEK-sea-oh di-VEEN-ah) It refers to the practice developed in monasteries of reading the Scriptures very meditatively. One doesn’t read quickly, as we often do today, to get on with the reading or gain immediately information. One "savors" the reading; if an inspiring thought comes to mind, one pauses a moment to reflect upon it.

In more ancient times, "reading" almost always meant "reading aloud." St. Augustine (born November 13, 354; died August 28, 430) writes about his mentor, St. Ambrose, who had the "unusual" practice (for that time) of reading silently to himself. When one reads the Scripture out loud and slowly, one is hearing the Word, and this can create a meaningful experience with the Scriptures.

Any way, back to that class. We of course studied the practice also of the monasteries in copying different literary and devotional books, including above all else the Scriptures. This was before books were printed. Books were very precious in the ancient world and the Middle Ages. They were usually illustrated, called illuminated manuscripts (Read more HERE), which were quite beautiful. Here is  an example:

This work of copying and illustrating the Scriptures also was a form of meditation. When writing in ink on expensive vellum (pages made of animal hides), mistakes were not easily corrected. So a monk copied slowly and had time to think about each word.

In this class at St. John’s, one assignment was very interesting for me. We had to chose a passage of Scripture and copy it ourselves. But carefully, attempting even some artistry if we could. But the important thing was to copy slowly and with attention to how we and where we would divide each sentence.

As I did this exercise I could begin to see patterns in the text that I might not have seen in a modern printed text (from which I was copying). I have that written exercise somewhere; but I found an example of a Scripture text written in calligraphy which illustrates what this copying could look like:

From this Site

Notice the patterns that get set up in this example from 2 Corinthians 4:8-10. It begins "We" and the end of the first sentence in this example is "but." One might expect the word "but" to begin the second line, but it doesn't. This word "but" will be used a number of times to indicate contrasts in the Christian life. It’s an important word in this Scripture passage, and "hanging" it on the end calls attention to this.

The second line ends with "We are perplexed," then the third line begins with "but": "but we don’t give up." Then follows "We are hunted down," and the next line then again "but": "but God never abandons us." "We get knocked down," then fifth line "but": "but we get up again" and then the pattern changes, adding "and we keep going through suffering." So this line stands out by breaking the pattern, just as the original writer intended. Its an important line for our life: "But we get up again and keep going through suffering."

Notice how the "We" in each line of 2, 3 and 4 are almost one on top of the other. Lines 3, 4 and 5 each begin "but," one atop the other. One senses the patterns that the original author intended in the writing. Look at the last two lines, where line 6 begins "these bodies of ours" and connects this with sharing in "the death of Jesus"; and again there is contrast, "so that the life of Jesus" (death/life) "can be seen in our bodies" (bodies are mentioned twice, beginning and ending these last two sentences.).

Well, I don’t know if you followed all that, but each line, each word in this passage, the way the calligrapher wrote it, invites a very deliberate and thoughtful reading.

The exercise we did for that monastic studies class at St. John’s reminded me at the time of something I had read somewhere, about a practice of Korean Christians (if I remember correctly), who would copy Scripture into a journal book as a way of prayer. This is exactly what the monks were doing century after century. It was work (the monasteries would often sell the copied books), but it was also very much prayer. (The Benedictine motto is "Ora et labora," "Pray and Work.")

I’d invite my readers to try this sometime. Pick a meaningful passage of Scripture and copy it. Pay attention to any patterns of repeated words, etc. You don’t have to be a calligrapher (though I know we have at least one parishioner who is an excellent calligrapher); do this slowly, however, and thoughtfully and it will give you a taste of the practice of lectio divina. For more on Lectio divina, go HERE.

Return to Home Page

More On the Monastic Life

My reflections will be brief for this week due to many duties. I do want to say more about the "monastic mystique" which I began to write about last week.

I said that I have this "monastic streak" in me. That doesn’t mean that I don’t enjoy my ministry and social life and living fully immersed in parish life. But for me, I think the attraction with monasticism has to do with a need to balance an active life with some quiet and prayer; to step out of the busyness of life and to be still before God.

In ancient times and for most of the history of monasticism, monasteries usually were built some distance from cities precisely to get away from the busyness of society and focus on what is essential to life in Christ.

Take for example the Monastery of Mont San Michel in France (Do go HERE to see some interesting photos and read about San Michel). This monastery was built on a tidal island, and is surrounded at high tide with water, making access to it difficult–at least in its past. Here is a picture of this monastery:

There is a mystique about such a place. I’ve been fascinated with Mont San Michel from the first time I saw a photo of this monastery many years ago. Imagine praying, looking out your window from San Michel, and seeing this scene:

Monasteries and monastic life, being outside the city and often in wild places of nature, did bring the monks into contact with God’s creation. Perhaps that’s the appeal monasticism has for many, as well.

I do intend to write some more about this...

Related Post: "Magical Holy Place"

Return to Home Page

About Busyness and Prayer

The Gospel Reading for this past Wednesday’s daily Mass says that after Jesus had spent a great deal of time healing the sick, "At daybreak, Jesus left and went to a deserted place." (Luke 4:42)

From other Gospel passages we know that he went to deserted places and to mountain tops to pray. Jesus, in his humanity, needed some solitude and silence to renew his relationship with God his Father in prayer. If he needed to pray, how much more do we need this, also!

I regularly think about this need for silence and prayer, because I desire this so much in my life. It is often my own fault that I don’t pray as much as I’d like; that I find myself busy with many things like just about everyone else today.

St. Gregory

Monday, September 3, was the Feast Day of St. Gregory the Great (Read about Gregory HERE). Gregory lived in a time (the late 6^th century) when the Church in Rome was having to take over many of the civic functions of the State because the Roman Empire was collapsing in the West. Gregory rose through various public offices until he left it all and entered monastic life. Yet in 590 he was elected Pope and had to leave the quiet of the monastery.

The Office of Readings for September 3^rd quotes a homily of St. Gregory where he says:

"In the monastery I could curb my idle talk and usually be absorbed in my prayers. Since I assumed the burden of pastoral care, my mind can no longer be collected; it is concerned with so many matters...With my mind divided and torn to pieces by so many problems, how can I meditate or preach wholeheartedly without neglecting the ministry of proclaiming the Gospel?" (Read the entire quote from the Reading HERE)

I always derive comfort when I read these words by St. Gregory. I do not have even half of the responsibilities he had, but I can relate to the challenge he faced of finding time to be collected and to pray and mediate without being so preoccupied with problems and all the noise of our society today. We have constant information overload today and there are words and noise everywhere we go.

When I was in my first year of Seminary, I was studying at St. Meinrad’s Monastery in Southern Indiana. The monks of St. Meinrad prepare men for service in various Dioceses. Being in a monastery environment, we were of course exposed to much of the monastic life and worship which was quite inspiring.

St. Meinrad Monastery

I probably would have entered the monastery if I had remained at St. Meinrad’s, but the rest of my Seminary training was back in Florida at St. Vincent de Paul Seminary in Boynton Beach. I’m glad for the years and friendships I had at St. Vincent. But I still think about the monastery. I think about it because it represents a life that devotes a great deal of time to prayer (For more on the monastic vocation go HERE). The monastic environment is designed to provide regular times of silence for meditation. The other complementary prayer in the monastery is the Liturgy of Hours and the Mass (what is called the Opus Dei, Latin for work of God).

I am periodically challenged to honor this "monastic streak" in myself, not by entering a monastery but by honoring the call to a more prayerful life. I ask for prayer that I might pray more. Perhaps I’ll write more about this subject since I know I am not alone in swimming against the culture’s current to stay benumbed by distraction and busyness. As I read by chance this week a quote from Ghandi: "There has to be more to life than simply increasing its speed."

Return to Home Page

Magical Holy Place

I wrote last week of my coming to admire and seek the companionship of various saints as I grew in my Catholic Faith. Later as a priest, on a visit to Italy, I discovered a monastery which combined several loves: my devotion to St. Benedict, my love of St. Francis and my enjoyable interest in architecture, especially church architecture.

I had read a little in a tour book about the monastery of St. Benedict in Subiaco, about 40 miles south of Rome. My traveling companion and I rented a car and drove up the mountainous region where Subiaco is located. The setting was kind of magical because there are lots of woods and it was a cool light misty, rainy October day. There were only two others there that day and so there was a beautiful quiet.

As you can see from the picture to the left, the monastery is built on the side of a mountain. It is a very important mountain because it was there in around 500 AD that St. Benedict lived temporarily as a hermit in a cave. [Read more about the life of St. Benedict HERE] The cave is venerated today, a place of pilgrimage, and the monastery and church were built to enshrine it. Benedict would later become the founder of Western monasticism, a communal way of life devoted to prayer and work.

Fortunately, we went down some stairs on the mountainside and entered the church from a lower level. Then it really was magical. There were all these flights of stairs and levels, one after another that one climbed, with side chapels and many painted frescoes, mainly from the history and legends of St. Benedict. The ascent was a kind of prayer experience in itself.

It is interesting to learn that at one time all churches had their interior walls usually covered with frescoes and paintings of the saints and biblical scenes and images of Mary and Jesus and the angels. Over time some of these frescoes faded and were painted or plastered over. In some countries that turned Protestant (beginning in the 16^th century), sometimes the holy images were deliberately removed. In Catholic countries, statues and stain glass windows became the more preferred decoration for churches. But still in Eastern Orthodox churches one may see the ancient style of walls covered in icons, i.e. holy images. One worships surrounded by the images of the saints and the Bible. [See this example HERE]

Unexpectedly in Subiaco, I wandered into a small side chapel and was excited to find there St. Francis! There was a painting of him that is believed to have been painted while he was still alive. St. Francis liked visiting monasteries and spent prayer time in many Italian caves. Experts think that the rather primitive painting of St. Francis was done while he still lived because it does not show him with the typical halo or the stigmata, received in his later life. He was obviously famous enough to get his portrait in the church, however. It is thought it might be very close to what he actually looked like.

I truly enjoyed that visit. It still works its imagination upon my mind. Our Holy Faith property reminds me a little of Subiaco because of our trees and the closeness of nature, which itself speaks of God’s glory as do churches.

[See a Youtube video of St. Benedict’s, Subiaco HERE. It captures the mood of the place]

Return to Home Page