The noise of life is a comfort because it reminds us that we are not alone. Even the sounds we find annoying or that come from annoying sources are welcome when silence has been present too long. We welcome the distraction as long as the distraction is from being alone, with only ourselves for company. Being alone wouldn’t be so bad if we were not faced with the prospect of being with our closest and harshest critic: ourselves. The comfort of the noises of life allows us, if we so desire, to never face our inner demons, our struggles, our imperfections.
Is silence then not our friend? We should seek to fill our lives with noise and business, right? Shouldn’t the noise be a constant companion?
At this point you might be tempted to say yes to all of the previous questions. If the only thing silence is good for is to allow our innermost flaws beat us down, then silence is not to be coveted. Though perhaps there is another reason for purposefully quieting those noises that comfort. The noises of life while often able to comfort, is for many, the source of anxiety.
While the conversation of the couple next to me on the train may comfort, the news at the eleven o’clock hour is cause for concern. The former reminds me that I am not alone, but the later makes me painfully aware of the brokenness of humanity.
Where then do I turn? If in silence I am condemned by my own thoughts, and through the words and noises of others I am reminded by the painfulness of human existence, where can I find solace? One answer comes from a centuries-old exercise. Even in the times of chivalry monks understood the importance of finding a way to silence ourselves in order to listen. They did not however think it wise to listen to our own voice, but instead turned to a voice which has been speaking to man since the beginning of time. A voice that we were created to hear, but that we, as humanity, collectively turned our backs on, the voice of God. In the exercise of Lectio Divina one learns to listen intently for the voice of God speaking to ones soul through silently meditating on small pieces of Scripture.
Individual
Lectio Divina (divine or holy reading) is a principal practice of Benedictine spirituality. True to its biblical origins, the monastic life seeks above all a listening heart wherein God’s Word—God’s self-communication—is made manifest in Christ, in the scriptures, in the human heart and in the heart of the cosmos.
Lectio Divina is a method of approaching scripture in order to listen to the depths, seeking to encounter Christ, the Word, through the power of the holy Spirit, hidden in the words of the text.
Ultimately it can be said that the goal of Lectio is an ever expanding capacity to listen with the heart to the word of God in all of life’s situations, leading to a more constant awareness of God’s presence. It is listening as a communion not so much for a particular message but for the nearness of the living God. It is therefore a listening that leads to a new way of seeing. In this sense the faithful practice of Lectio undergirds our entire life of prayer, work, and communion with others.
The traditional method for Lectio Divina is fourfold: (using the Latin names)
1. Lectio - The repeated reading of the text until certain words and phrases call for attention. Sometimes footnotes in a good study bible (for example, the Jerusalem Bible) as well as cross references help here. This stage has often been compared to taking in food, as the first “eating” of the word of scripture.
2. Meditatio - The further “chewing” or ruminating on key words and phrases. One stays as long as one is so attracted to a word or phrase. At this stage the heart of the text for the reader should begin to emerge
3. Oratio - These key words and phrases of the text eventually lead the person to prayer inspired by the text and a growing awareness of God’s presence in Christ by the Spirit. This is the deep tasting of the text.
4. Contemplatio - Eventually the particular words of the text lead the reader beyond words to silent awareness of God’s presence—simply an abiding or communing with God. This is the savoring of the sweetness of the Lord.
