Lectio Divina
The Exegetical Roots of Contemplative Prayer and Christian Mysticism
“Though the role of the written word in Christianity is always secondary to Christ conceived of as the Word (Logos) of God, the importance of scripture must be clearly grasped if we wish to understand the nature of Christian mysticism, because mysticism, especially down to the twelfth century, was for the most part directly exegetical in character. The cultivation of immediate consciousness of the divine presence took place within the exercise of reading, meditating, preaching, and teaching the biblical text, often within a liturgical or quasi-liturgical context.” Bernard McGinn (FM 64)1
Christian mysticism is primarily concerned with nurturing our consciousness of the divine presence. Teresa of Ávila, a 16th century mystic, captures this basic feature of Christian mysticism as she describes experiences she had before taking up a regular contemplative practice: “I used unexpectedly to experience a consciousness of the presence of God of such a kind that I could not possibly doubt that he was within me or that I was wholly engulfed in him. This was in no sense a vision: I believe that it is called mystical theology” (FM xiii).
Historically speaking, the principal means used by the faithful for nurturing this God-consciousness has been the scriptures. In the act of hearing the scriptures, reading them, and meditating on them; one moved from prayer toward contemplation of the divine. More generally, the way the early church thought of the scriptures and sought to understand them was mystical in character. They searched the scriptures because Christ was mysteriously made present in doing so. Bernard McGinn describes Origen of Alexandria’s understanding of the scriptures and exegesis (interpretation), which informed many interpreters in the early church:
“Scripture in its entirety is nothing else than the Logos teaching each believer in and through the church. The Logos eternally begotten from the Father’s self-emptying, who in turn emptied himself by taking on flesh, now becomes present and active in us through the meditation of his presence in the inspired words of the scripture.” (FM 111).
This is why allegorical interpretations were favored among early exegetes. In contrast to fundamentalist approaches that depend on a literal reading in order to find the one, acceptable interpretation; and unlike historical-critical approaches that focus on historical contexts, forms, and sources to draw out possible interpretations; early exegetes were primarily seeking one thing from the scriptures: experience of the living, present Christ. For them, the mystikos was not a reference to their experience of the divine presence, per se, but to the mystery of the divine Word’s presence in the scriptures and sacraments of the church. Hearing the scriptures, reading them, and meditating on them was understood as an “exegetical-mystical ascent” to the divine presence (McGinn FM 117).
There is a lot that can be said here, but the point to catch is the exegetical roots of Christian mysticism. Contrary to the caricatures that are sometimes put forward, e.g., Christian mysticism is nothing more than a wrong-headed appropriation of eastern meditation practices, the mystical and contemplative traditions of Christian faith are deeply rooted in the scriptures. In the Middle Ages, this mystical-exegetical ascent became a method of reading, meditation, prayer, and contemplation known as Lectio Divina (Divine Reading).
“Reading (lectio) is the careful study of the scriptures, concentrating all one’s powers on it. Meditation (meditatio) is the busy application of the mind to seek with the help of one’s own reason for knowledge of hidden truths. Prayer (oratio) is the heart’s devoted turning to God to drive away evil and obtain what is good. Contemplation (contemplatio) is when the mind is in some sort lifted up to God and held above itself, so that it tastes the joys of everlasting sweetness.” Guigo II (FM 356)
Lectio divina, as it was eventually developed by Guigo II, is a four step method of reading, meditation, prayer, and contemplation. It is intended to be a method for entering into conversation with God. It is important to notice that what we understand today as contemplative prayer is the last part of this four step method. Let’s take each one in turn, and we’ll use Matthew 5:7 as our text. As you take these steps in your own practice, it helps to think of it as a conversation where God speaks the Word to us and we respond. However, even though the conversation begins with words that are heard and spoken, the conversation eventually transcends words and begins to take place in the intimacy of our hearts.
“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.” (Matt. 5:7 NRSV)
Reading (lectio)
When Guigo II says we should make a “careful study of the scriptures",” he doesn’t mean we should look at the original language, break out the commentaries, and analyze the text. He means we should give the text our absolute attention, “concentrating all one’s powers,” by reading it slowly and “chewing” on the words. This is why we can use one, short line from the Beatitudes as our example; shorter passages are usually better for lectio. We don’t want to analyze the text as if we can draw the Word out by force. We want to attend to it, and let the Word speak to us. We start by reading the text slowly, perhaps out-loud, focusing our attention on the words. We repeat this several times, allowing the sense of the text to come to us.
Meditation (meditatio)
As we slowly read the text several times, what comes to mind? What am I thinking; what am I feeling? Whatever it is might or might not be directly related to the passage, but it will be in response to what I have just read. Reading might bring to mind questions about what it means to have a pure heart. Maybe I begin to miss someone who I knew to have a good and pure heart. Maybe I experience a simple but persistent longing to see God. The possibilities are wide open. My meditation is nothing more than the act of reflecting on what comes to mind from reading. There is no such thing as a wrong meditation. There is only my experience from listening to the Word speak through the text.
Prayer (oratio)
As I read and meditate, I begin to have something with which to pray. My prayer will be related to whatever comes to mind. However, what I pray is not quite as important as the intention of my heart behind the prayer. Maybe I am sad in thinking about someone I miss; I begin to pray about that. Maybe I am curious in wondering what a pure heart is; I pray about that. Maybe I long for something good that is not yet present; if so, then that’s my prayer. However, behind that prayer is the desire of my heart that informs that prayer. The desire of my heart, no matter what it is, is rooted in my inherent desire for good. At the core of our being, our basic desire is for goodness, which is another way of saying that our basic desire is for God. For me, the key to moving from prayer using words to prayer of the heart (contemplation) is turning my simple desire for good toward the ubiquitous presence of God.
Contemplation (contemplatio)
The last step is the goal: contemplation. After we have read, meditated, and prayed; we want to let go of all our thoughts and turn our attention to God with the desire of our heart. Whatever thoughts or feelings we might have become periphery to our attentiveness to God so we let them go as easily as they come. In my own contemplative practice, I turn my mental attention to my chest area. I learned to do this from contemplatives in the Eastern Orthodox Church. They turn their mental focus toward the chest area because it is “prayer of the heart.” But I have learned that in turning my mental attention toward the chest area, it helps cut down on a lot of the mental activity that can distract me from being attentive to the divine presence. At any rate, I focus my attention on my simple desire for good and the divine presence, which are both in me (God is ubiquitous so focusing the mind on the chest area is as good as any other). In my experience, where those two desires meet is where contemplation happens.
Ultimately, my desire for good is my desire for union with God. And, God’s desire for my good is God’s desire for union with me. Those two desires are the same desire; their source is the same. Somehow, in the intimacy of our hearts where our desire and God’s desire meet and become one, we can get a foretaste of the union and love for which we are created. Admittedly, it’s a mystery as to how all of this works, which is partly why the term mysticism is always appropriate. But I take it to be something along the lines of what Paul said: the Spirit that searches the heart and knows the mind of God intercedes according to the divine will with sighs that are too deep for words (Rom. 8:26-27).
Bernard McGinn, The Foundations of Mysticism from the series The Presence of God: A History of Western Christian Mysticism (Crossroad Publishing Company; 1991)