So what do you do with all these Bible verses you learn by heart? Unless your interest is purely academic, you probably want to get closer to God. Here’s an ancient, yet gentle, approach to praying through the Scriptures: lectio divina.
Lectio divina is one of those phrases you can toss around for decades without ever realizing that you don’t actually know what it means. For years, I only knew that lectio divina was how monks and nuns used to pray the Scriptures. They would “ruminate” on the same text, like a cow (i.e., a ruminant) chewing a cud. Somehow, this appetizing metaphor failed to inspire further research.
Plus, I’ve had some bad experiences with the “professional” approach to spiritual growth. Whenever someone starts outlining How to Pray Like a Master in Five Incredibly Difficult Steps, I get nervous. I think of the apostles asking Jesus how to pray, and getting a short, simple answer that consisted mainly of the Our Father.
But now I’m excited. I’ve found this article that explains lectio divina as an ancient, gentle way of letting the Bible lead you into God’s presence. If you want to learn the Scripture by heart, you owe it to yourself to read this.
It’s longer than the average blog, so if you’re intimidated, skip down to “Choose a text of the Scriptures” for the how-to. Read this first.
But if you have time, the earlier discussion is worth a read. Especially his discussion of how “contemplation” is a gift, not a goal:
In ancient times contemplation was not regarded as a goal to be achieved through some method of prayer, but was simply accepted with gratitude as God’s recurring gift….
How different this ancient understanding is from our modern approach! Instead of recognizing that we all gently oscillate back and forth between spiritual activity and receptivity, between practice and contemplation, we today tend to set contemplation before ourselves as a goal — something we imagine we can achieve through some spiritual technique. We must be willing to sacrifice our “goal-oriented” approach if we are to practice lectio divina, because lectio divina has no other goal than spending time with God through the medium of His word…. Lectio divina teaches us to savor and delight in all the different flavors of God’s presence…
After you read it, let me know what you think. Do you already find that these verses lead you easily to prayer? Or do you glimpse a refreshing possibility here?
“Accepting the Embrace of God: The Ancient Art of Lectio Divina” by Luke Dysinger, O.S.B.
Comments
Lectio Divina
Thanks for bringing this to attention, Bill. Though I am not a believer, these principles have application to my interest, which is memorizing lots of Shakespeare (like you, I've contributed some posts to mnemotechnics.org.)
Hi Hamlet! Very cool, I’d be
Hi Hamlet! Very cool, I’d be interested to hear your thoughts on reflecting and entering into Shakespeare. Do you focus on soliloquies, or do you also memorize dialogue?
Whenever I read or recite any
Whenever I read or recite any part of Hamlet, I see something new or different. The character Hamlet's seven soliliquies are obviously especially rich, but through the intense chewing on every word and phrase that went into memorizing the entire play, new ideas and discoveries open up, even in bits of short dialogue. I first read Hamlet 30 years ago in college. I didn't recognize then what I see now, that there are many, many very funny parts in the wordplay and banter in the dialogue. I now see that the play should not be typecast as a mere tragedy. Shakespeare being Shakespeare, there is much beautiful ambiguity in his work, including comedy within the tragedies and vice versa.
Roughly every few months, I'll do a complete review over the course of a week, such as one act in one day, so that I'll go through the whole play in the course of Monday through Friday. But in the interim, I find myself hearing random small and large segments in my head, and I re-play different sections as if I were listening to music. It's that enjoyable!
Excellent! Wow! I’m impressed
Excellent! Wow! I’m impressed and inspired. Not only at the feat of memorizing Hamlet, but that you still relish it more and more after all these reviews.
Your discussion with Josh on his mnemotechnics blog makes fascinating reading, too. And I checked out memorizeshakespeare.com, per your recommendation. Very cool! I haven’t tried actually recording text and playing it back. Now I’ll have to give it a try.
Yes! You could make your own
Yes! You could make your own recordings, which would be inexpensive. And/or you could invest in this: https://www.listenersbible.com/. If you like the quality of this theatrically trained voice, it would make a great supplement to your Bible memorizing endeavors, or another avenue in experiencing the Scriptures.
Listening to a good reading
Listening to a good reading of the Bible would definitely be worth doing. (I’m a huge Librivox fan, even though the readers vary in quality.)
The trouble is, I don’t know of any readings that use the Bible rhythms. These rhythms make a huge difference – they push the Bible away from prose and more towards an experience like Shakespeare. Maybe I should consider making my own recordings, like you suggest. It wouldn’t take that long. Might even make a good podcast. :)
Keep up all your great work!
Keep up all your great work! Congratulations on your memorizing Mark and more. I've enjoyed your blog, and have taken note of the evolution in your thinking regarding mnemonic techniques, since I've had similar thoughts. I think you're on the mark regarding memorizing prose and poetry word-for-word, that visual mnemonics can turn one pseudo-autistic, and that these endeavors require aural mnemonics. Aural mnemonics should not be cast in the same bad light as "rote memory."
By the way, have you seen the film "The Book of Eli"?
Aural (and oral) mnemonics do
Aural (and oral) mnemonics do not equal rote memory! Yes! That’s really the crux of the confusion.
Haven’t seen “The Book of Eli,” but I can see from the Wikipedia synopsis why you’d bring it up! I always think of Fahrenheit 451, and the dystopian future where books live only in the memory. On the other hand (I should write a blog about this), our actual world of “information overload” is so completely the opposite – unless you forget most of what you read anyway.