Lectio

Lectio divina

With a smattering of Latin or familiarity with similar English words, we recognize that lectio means reading. We are privileged in our ability to read. Now and then we ought to thank God for this link with him, with history, with an immense and complicated world.

But—to read? How many ways we have of reading! How many ways of reading can be called “spiritual reading.” Let’s explore the multiplicity just a bit.

One kind: I read the papers, the newest periodical. I want to know what has been happening, I want interpretations of events. I struggle with this knowledge and try to come to some conclusion that will give me a basis for practical choice.

Another kind: I study. Perhaps I am learning a scientific discipline and I absorb principles and conclusions. I engage in experimentation to test hypotheses. I am keeping up on my field, or I am beginning to feel my way across its territory. This may be my career, or perhaps an avocation that kindles my enthusiasm and my capabilities.

Again, I want to learn as much as I can about the spiritual life. Every day I give some time to reading about prayer, or the life of holy people, or how to cope with the difficulties of life and the difficulties of being me. I read theology, analysis of Scripture, history of religion and of my own particular faith. Yes, this is spiritual reading.

But lectio is something else. Lectio is a kind of prayer, a kind of exploration of the heart of God, who discloses himself in Holy Scripture, and in various other manifestations of the word.

Words--do we take them for granted—those magical, evocative, instructive and beautiful tools of life? Lectio is a way of ceasing to take for granted what is much too important for anything less than reverence.

As we keep adding to this section on the craft of lectio, we will be looking into what it is, how it’s done, and why it could be considered the most accessible and foundational of the three basic Benedictine practices. Stay tuned.