
Just cling, cells interlocked, bark intact, and let the sap flow: slowly but surely through winter frost, tingling gently, keeping you alive; vibrantly pouring when summer sun saturates the world with heat; a constant feeding in the sleep of night. Rest, but cling, fruit will come!
When I picture myself a branch clinging to the Vine, drinking in the nourishment of that intimate attachment, I am overwhelmed with gratitude that the Source of vibrant healthy Life wants me to be that attached to him. It is a grace, and not something to be ignored—because an unfruitful branch is useless.
Most of all, I want that Vine “sap” to flow into me consistently. Daily “quiet time” is a wonderful habit that makes space for that two-way relationship, for conversation between my Messiah and me. One fruitful practice to include in that time, at least in some regular fashion, is an ancient one called “lectio divina.” It is related to praying Scripture, and also involves contemplating its principles and applying them. Rich!
For years it was dismissed in evangelical circles as a Catholic practice, thus not relevant. But recently it has become increasingly valued for its contribution to development of intimacy with God. It evidently had roots in the Jewish practice of oral reading and memorization of the Scriptures, then was adapted to both private and group practice in the Western church in the fifth century based on its use by the Eastern desert mothers and fathers as a way to encounter God through Scripture[1]. After a while it became relegated to only the “spiritually elete,” and was no longer made available to common people. As a result, “the simplicity and power of praying back to God his holy Scripture also was lost.[2]”
For many Christians, that is true today. Reading the Bible for information is a good practice, but adding a deep desire for spiritual formation through the practice is the other side that is essential to real growth. There are various ways to apply the heritage of lectio divina to personal use, but I appreciate a simple four-step approach that I can remember to apply as I open the Word in my quiet time. It actually is much like inductive study, but includes a greater emphasis on meditation and prayer. These steps are gleaned from several sources:
Lectio: READ Take time to read a passage more than once. This can be done orally, which may be helpful in maintaining focus and using one’s auditory faculties. I find that reading it silently works well for me.
Meditatio: REFLECT What does the text mean? What is God showing me through this passage? What are the principles that are being illustrated?
Oratio: RESPOND Turn your thoughts to direct communication with God. Pray. Use the passage as an outline for your prayer, especially the parts that the Lord has highlighted for you. It is good to turn this into conversation, where you take time to listen to how the Lord responds to what you are praying.
Incarnatio: RESOLVE How can you live out what the Word has said to you? It may be helpful to make notes, to decide how to apply it concretely. Then go do it.
I find that these steps help me digest what I read, taking time to taste it, chew it, and let it nourish me. It is a practice new to me, one I’ve been implementing the past few weeks.
Let me give an example from my current reading through Acts. In chapters 20 and 21, Paul is eager to get to Jerusalem before Pentecost, and he has to take a long journey through Macedonia and Greece to get there. Along the way, he keeps getting warned that he is going to be rejected, and taken prisoner by the Romans. He had known from the start that hardship was ahead, as it had been in every city, yet he was “compelled by the Holy Spirit” to go anyway (20:22). It was different from other times, when he had avoided danger by leaving a city and going elsewhere (as in 17:13-15). Now he knew he must consider his life worth nothing. His one purpose was to accomplish whatever purpose his Lord had for him (20:24), sharing the Good News. He was saying goodbyes and encouraging believers to run that same race.
As I read sections of those chapters over the course of several days, I also reread them. Part of my contemplation has been taking time to also read the letters he eventually wrote to the communities where he had ministered, to add those teachings to what he knew was important for each one. I meditated on this commitment to obedience, no matter the cost. It spoke to me. Sometimes in my own life the Lord had told Glenn and me that it was time to escape danger, as when we evacuated from civil war in Côte d’Ivoire in 2022. And then there have been times when he said to leave fear behind and go do what he was putting before us, as when we returned to rebel-held territory there, three and a half years later.
What is he saying to me now? This has been underlined: I need to be listening to the Spirit for counsel, but meanwhile, continue to do what he has set before me until he makes a change or addition. Just like Paul, I need to be ready to stay where the Lord is using me right now, or go where he says there is a task he wants me to do. I re-evaluate my preoccupations, laying them out before him in prayer. Right now I know that he has assigned me the work of re-entering a full-time commitment to Bible translation, a complete change of direction from my activities during the last few years of retirement. He has told me to see it as his continued purpose for me, what he has prepared for me to do. Of what value is my life if I use it only for freedom from “work”—when instead he wants me to “complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me” (20:24). My life is not my own; it is his. I gave it to him decades ago. And that is what matters. I realize, too, that he is giving me joy on this journey.
Paul’s farewell to the Ephesian elders (20:1-28) is especially meaningful to me. As I pray through it, not just once but over several days of quiet times, I remember the wrenching farewells with our Nyarafolo “family” as we said goobye to different groups and retired, moving on to this phase. And my Lord is reinforcing the essential assignment given me (it is not over yet!), to spread the news of his grace wherever I am, whether through translation of his Word or in conversations with my neighborhood walking group. This is that important last step of Incarnatio, putting what I “hear” into practice in my life.
The process of lectio divina can be done with a short section of text in one sitting, but it is also worth practicing over days or weeks, depending on the length of the text being contemplated and the purpose given the disciple by the Lord. It is a useful approach to making sure that attachment to the Vine is a priority, being fed—a way of focusing on intimacy with our Master/Friend/Jesus, listening to his teaching and promptings as we digest that treasure of his Word, our daily nourishment:
so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, 18 may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, 19 and to know this love that surpasses knowledge– that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God. (Eph. 3:17 NIV)
As Adele Calhoun says, “Lectio divina invites us into God’s presence to listen for his particular, loving word to me at this particular moment in time[3].”
[1] Westerfield, Gloria Jean. “Lectio Divina: A Contemplative Approach to Intimacy with God.” (Asbury Theological Seminary ePlac; Dissertations, 2014), 29. https://place.asburyseminary.edu/ecommonsatsdissertations/688/
[2] Ibid., 30.
[3] Calhoun, Adele Ahlberg. Spiritual Disciplines Handbook: Practices that Transform Us. (Downers Grove, Illinois: IVP Books, 2005), 168.
This was so enlightening, Linn! And I love the way, like so many of your poems, the final line makes the whole meaning come so alive!
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Thank you, Lynne. That last line was an inspiration the Spirit gave shortly before I published it. Yes, it meant something to me, too.
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