What Does Prayer Have To Do With Reading Scripture?
This is a trick question! I could also ask the reverse, "What does Scripture have to do with Prayer." After several years of research for my doctoral studies and personal practice of lectio divina, the question eventually became, "Is lectio divina a way of reading Scripture that includes prayer or a way of praying that includes reading Scripture?" I would prefer the easy way out and answer, "Yes!" But I'll be honest. Though I am better at reading than praying, lectio divina is, in reality, a way of praying that includes reading Scripture. To understand this, we need to look at it from two angles.
One has to do with the fundamental nature of prayer. David Benner, in his book, Opening to God: Lectio Divina and Life as Prayer, got me to think differently. I am totally paraphrasing his work in this book when I say that prayer, at its core, is not something we do but a posture, a disposition, an orientation, or a way of being toward God. And a prayerful disposition is one of trusting openness that draws us into a conversational intimacy with God that is transformative. When we encounter or engage God, this disposition is often expressed in language, because like God, we are communicative beings. And thus, our prayerfulness takes the form of "expressed communication" or prayers.
And so, the ancient writers and practitioners of lectio divina were fond of saying, "In prayer, we speak to God, and in Scripture, God speaks to us." This was their concise way of saying that prayers give voice to our side of the conversation while Scripture, animated and empowered by the Spirit, gives voice to God's side of the conversation. In their understanding and mine, Jesus is the supreme expression of God's communication to humanity. Beyond Jesus, Scripture, enlivened by the Spirit, becomes the vehicle for the most consistent, reliable, and authoritative representation of God's communication to us. Though, of course, he has and still does communicate in other ways and through other means.
I have come to agree wholeheartedly with a statement by Wilhoit and Howard, in their book, Discovering Lectio Divina: Bringing Scripture into Ordinary Life, where they said, "Prayer is the house in which lectio divina dwells." I interpret the statement to mean, Prayer is the broader framework within which reading occurs. So, the answer to my earlier question is that lectio divina is a way of praying that includes reading Scripture!" Therefore, lectio divina has required me to become a better pray-er.
Second, for the ancient practitioners, lectio divina was nothing without prayer. The traditional and best-known form of lectio divina has been handed down in a book written in the 12th century known as the Ladder of Monks. Here the author explains that:
Reading comes first, and is, as it were, the foundation; it provides the subject matter that we must use for meditation. Meditation considers more carefully what is to be sought after; but since it is not in meditation's power to seize upon the treasure, it directs us to prayer. Prayer lifts itself up to God with all its strength, and begs for the treasure it longs for, which is the sweetness of contemplation.". . . Again, what use is it to anyone if he sees in his meditation what is to be done, unless the help of prayer and the grace of God enable him to achieve it? . . . It is God's will then that we pray to Him, His will that when his grace comes and knocks at the door, we should willingly open our hearts to Him and give Him our consent (remember the earlier definition of prayer as a disposition of trusting openness to God) . . . From this, we learn that if meditation is to be fruitful, it must be followed by devoted prayer, and the sweetness of contemplation may be called the effect of prayer. [Bold added for emphasis]
Origen, an early Church Father, and theologian of the third century writes in his homily on Genesis, "We hold the books and we read them, but we do not touch upon the spiritual sense. And therefore, there is need for tears and incessant prayer that the Lord may open our eyes."
[A side note, "spiritual sense" is not the true hidden meaning of the text. The "spiritual sense" is the significance or implication of the text for the reader's life in God, their lived experience of the faith, i.e., their "spiritual" life.]
In another document, Origen writes, "prayer is . . . both the prelude and the response to a devout reading of Scripture."
Jerome, a Church Father, and theologian, writes in the fourth century, "Let reading follow prayer and prayer follow reading."
In the sixth century, Isidore of Seville, in his work, Sententiae, notes the inseparability of reading and prayer. Isidore writes, "by prayers we are purified, by reading we are instructed; it is good to have them both together, if possible; if not, it is better to pray."
Isaac of Nineveh writing in the seventh century instructs us: "Let your reading be done in a stillness which nothing disturbs . . . Do not approach the words of the mysteries contained in the divine Scriptures without prayer and beseeching God for help, but say: Lord, grant me to perceive the power in them!"
Duncan Robertson observes in Lectio Divina: The Medieval Experience of Reading that among the medieval writers, there was a persistent prescription for "the alternation of reading and prayer, with the former [reading] subordinated to the latter [prayer]." And concludes that "reading and meditation were at the service of prayer, oratio, the person's heartfelt response to God's word."
In summary, I would say that prayer (whether in words, tears, or inexpressible desire) ultimately makes reading effective. Prayer makes reading effective by
creating a deeper intimacy with God
captivating our hearts, minds, and imaginations, while transforming us into the likeness of Christ, and thereby
freeing and empowering us to participate more fully in his mission on the earth.
And this is the power of lectio divina: a prayerful and meditative reading of Scripture that facilitates a transformative intimacy with God.
