The Art of Spiritual Reading
by
Gerald N. Alford, OCDS
One of the many gifts handed down through the Church from the early monastic
tradition is a 'method' of meditation known as the Lectio Divina. No doubt
the rediscovery and return to the practice of this method can be attributed
to the realization of its simplicity and to the experience it provides of
being supported in prayer by a text.
In this tradition of prayer, one discovers its elements -- lectio,
meditatio, and oratio -- being essentially linked and
inter-dependent. The lectio, or reading of the text, is for the sake and
support of the meditatio, or dwelling on the text in the mind, which in turn
is meant to lead one into oratio, or dwelling of the text in the heart. Let
us now consider spiritual reading in the light of this monastic tradition
and its relationship to meditation and prayer.
One can see that in this tradition there would be no effort made to
distinguish between spiritual reading and meditation. To make such a distinction
would be as useless as making a distinction between the ingestion and digestion
of food. These life functions are of course distinct actions in terms of
process, but they are one in terms of dependency upon each other and in terms
of the end result, assimilation. Quite simply, you can not digest food which
you have not taken in, and there will be no growth as a result of these two
processes unless what is eaten is assimilated. This common analogy of eating
to reading and studying seems obvious
enough.
In spiritual reading our desire must be to assimiliate the material read,
not primarily to inform our minds, but to reform and transform our hearts
and thereby our lives. Spiritual reading is not studying. When we read to
study, our mind is primarily attentive, but in spiritual reading the heart
must be the most attentive faculty. To 'spiritually' read the Scripture,
for example, we do not open the Bible to learn some facts or to simply gain
information. The same holds true in our reading of any book dealing with
spirituality. There is a need of course to study the Scriptures and to learn
theology.
In a balanced and integrated Christian life there should be a blending
of many activities: prayer, study, finding God in the truth of our work and
play, especially the 'play' of celebrating together in the liturgy. We are
not saying that spiritual reading should not involve intellectual activity
and learning. We are saying it is not done primarily for this purpose. The
difference between ordinary reading and spiritual reading will be in the
approach. We approach spiritual reading not with a do-attitude, but with
a be-attitude. We are reading our text to be with Someone and thereby to
become someone, the unique person we are created to be.
When we engage in spiritual reading, we are really looking for Wisdom.
What we want is something dynamic, something that relates us to life. We
are seeking that which is geared to growth and change within. Through spiritual
reading we are seeking motivation for the Christian life more than information
about the Christian life.
Basically, then, the art of spiritual reading is an exercise in the art
of listening to the Word of God. As such, it is the first base and the backbone
of Christian meditation. It is the first base because spiritual reading is
usually where you start in preparing and disposing yourself for meditation.
It is the backbone, because it will support the work of meditation no matter
how advanced or proficient a person might become.
If we have this attitude toward spiritual reading then it will become
for us the door to an in-depth personal prayer. Understanding and practicing
spiritual reading with this mentality will enable its practice to lead us
into prayer, and to support and sustain our prayer. Failure to so engage
in a spiritual reading can be a hindrance to the development of a prayer
life of substance and perseverence.
When we approach spiritual reading as an opportunity for listening to
the Word of God, we are approaching it with the attitude of a true disciple.
Susan Muto in her writing on the art of spiritual reading emphasizes that
it is the practice of one who has learned to sit at the feet of the Master.
The Master is always Christ whether we are reading His words in the Gospels,
or an interpretation of His words in the writings of one of His gifted followers
such as Teresa of Avila. We are seating ourselves 'beneath' our books or
text as Mary sat at the feet of Jesus, simply drinking in what He has to
say.
We learn to savor what we 'hear' by learning to read our text with the
care and appreciation of a gourmet tasting a fine wine: slowly, swishing
it about the palate of our minds, allowing it to linger as long as necessary
on the taste buds of our sensibilities so as to taste the fullness of what
it has to provide us about the Word of God and about life in Christ. The
written word which we read we 'hear' pronounced within. This means that our
heart must be ever listening as we read, for the Word pronounced within the
words we read. To paraphrase 2 Peter 1:19: our attention upon what we read
must be as a lamp shining in a dark place until the first streaks of dawn
appear and the morning star rises in our hearts.
In a sense, Blessed Isaac of Stella remarks, every Christian can be seen
as 'a bride of God's Word.' When we read the Scriptures or other spiritual
writings we are not just reading words for the understanding of words. Reading
comprehension in spiritual reading takes on a deeper significance. It becomes
part of the spiritual reader's striving to be united with Christ. St. John
of the Cross writes of the soul as a Bride seeking the Bridegroom: 'the soul
enamoured of the Word, her Bridegroom, the Son of God, longs for union with
Him through clear and essential vision.' Comprehension of what one reads
spiritually can be seen as another effort of such a soul toward 'comprehending'
Christ, i.e., seeing Him as He is with the knowledge that a bride has of
her groom. As the soul in John of the Cross' Spiritual Canticle seeks Him
in all the signs and symbols of creation, so the soul of the spiritual reader
seeks Him hidden within the word symbols of the text.
Of course, the primary source of God revealing Himself in the Word must
always be the Holy Scriptures. If the Scriptures are to be spiritual reading,
we must not read them simply as literature or as an interesting account of
the development of a culture and people. The Protestant theologian and biblical
exegete, Rudolf Bultman, points out that reading the Scriptures requires
two levels of understanding. First, it requires a preliminary unraveling
of the meaning of the texts themselves which is essentially knowledge acquired
by study. Secondly, it requires a deeper level of appreciation, a vital insight
which grows out of personal involvement with the text. Only if we strive
to understand the Scriptures at this level can we be said to read them
spiritually.
Our Rule of Life affords us an opportunity to read daily from the Scriptures
by making the Divine Office the source of our morning and evening prayer.
And, if we pray the Office of the Readings, we are daily in contact with
the minds and hearts of the early Church Fathers as well. If we attend Mass
as often as possible, as our Rule encourages, we also have Scripture readings
provided by Holy Mother Church. What this means is that we have two daily
guides as to what text to read from Scriptures.
Often individuals feel they need to read the Bible word for word in the
order it is presented. Reading the Bible 'straight through' this way over
the course of a period of time can be a wonderful accomplishment. Sometimes
that is a probem. It becomes an achievement, a plaque to hang on the wall
of our memory which we may even take down at times to show others.
We should not feel a compulsion to read the Bible word for word, prodding
through it at all costs from Genesis through Revelation. Nor do we have to
go to the other extreme of taking a haphazard approach, picking a text at
random here and there. Allowing the Church to be our guide in our daily reading
of the Scriptures provides us with a most suitable structure by which in
the course of the liturgical cycles we can discover the essence of our salvation
history. We do not have to restrict ourselves to just reading the selections
presented in the liturgy of the day, but can read the context of the particular
text as well.
So, for example, when the Church presents passages from the Gospel of
St. Mark, we can read the whole of Mark's Gospel during that time. Then,
when we read or hear the selected passage in the liturgy, we have the advantage
of having the context of the passage in our immediate memory. This may be
an aide to us in relation to the selection read in the liturgy in a more
meaningful and prayerful way. By the way, striving to understand the relatedness
and connections inherent in the two or three presented in the Liturgy of
the Word can be a fruitful source of stimulation for our mental
prayer.
Of course, we want to enrich our lives with other forms of spiritual reading
besides the Scriptures. Our problem today may be a plethora of spiritual
writings rather than a scarcity. Although we have many books calling us,
few should be chosen. Not everyone writing about spirituality can be considered
a genuine spiritual writer. A genuine spiritual writer is a prophet. He has
had an experience of Christ and has been called to proclaim the message he
has received to others. Like John the Baptist, the spiritual writer is a
voice crying in the wilderness to prepare the way of the Lord into the heart
of his/her readers. Such writers have this power because the Word of God
has made their hearts His dwelling place and so the words which flow from
their hearts onto paper strike not only eye of thei r readers, bu their hearts
as well, if the readers are properly disposed. The texts constructed by these
writers build up the hearts of those who have 'the eyes' to read their message,
for their message is Christ.
Another sign of a genuine spiritual writer is that, like John, such a
writer makes it clear that he or she is the voice which breaks his or her
silence to prepare the way for the Lord. The writer's gift may be great,
but he or she uses it only to present Christ and not him or herself. Gifted
writers such as Thomas Merton often attract a cult of admirers, but they
do not take advantage of this to further their own glory, but to always point
to Christ and have their expression of His message decrease so that His Word
may increase in the hearts of their readers. As St. Augustine comments: Prepare
the way for the Lord, he (the spiritual writer) says, as though he was saying
: I speak out in order to lead Him into your hearts, but He does not choose
to come where I lead Him unless you prepare the way for Him.
In conclusion, the art of spiritual reading is the art of seeking the
Lord in the reading of the text, of listening for His voice in the sound
of the written word, of striving to further union with God through the
comprehension of what is read. The light by which we comprehend what is read
must be Faith.
The written word is only another image, another form of symbol, pointing to an inexpressible reality. We must not be disappointed or surprised as we move more deeply into the meaning of the text and find there only a mirage of what we are really seeking. John of the Cross clearly warns us that God cannot be contained within the limitation of any concept or symbol. In a trek through a desert the mirage has a value. It keeps the lost wayfarer going, providing a kind of hope in at least the reflection, albeit false, of the reality being sought. Even though the words of our text cannot contain the reality they struggle to reflect, they motivate us in our search by stimulating love. And love is both the means and the end of the journey.
In the Constitutions she wrote for her nuns, Our Holy Mother Teresa makes
sure time is set aside in the daily schedule for Spiritual
Reading:
An hour before the Office of Readings, let the bell be run. This hour
may be spend in reading if the nuns are drawn in spirit to spend the hour
after Vespers in prayers. They may decide in accordance with what most helps
them toward recollection.
The prioress should see to it that good books are available, especially
a good Life of Christ, the Lives of the Saints, the Imitation of Christ,
a book about Religious priests and nuns, and those books written by holy
and learned writers. This sustanance for the soul is in some way as necessary
as is food for the body.
The Constitutions of Teresa of Jesus, #7-8