I shared some reflections a few weeks ago. Although I've been a Bible learner and disciple of Christ for many years, I do not yet have this walk figured out. It's filled with missteps and mistakes, and even when I re-read some of my prior posts, I can see how I could have represented the truth more fully and adequately. It is humbling to know that God still brings truth even in our tiny bit of understanding.
Redemption is both an event and a process. It is an experience and the hard work of traveling a new path (neurologically, physically, emotionally, spiritually), but as believers, we do it with Him.
This week, I will introduce Lectio Divina, a method of Scripture reading that helps foster intimacy and closeness with God (which I often fail to integrate here on the blog). Is Lectio Divina a "formula" for the Christian walk? Absolutely not. Is it a tool we can use, just as we use tools to study Scripture? Yes. It has helped me to open my heart to the care of Christ and the vulnerability of being in a close relationship with Him. My prayer is that it will bless you as it has me.
Lectio (Reading)
When we read Scripture, it is for the purpose of encountering God. Hebrews 4:12 says, "For the word of God is alive and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart."
Read the verses below 2-3 times slowly. Take in the words and the conversation.
11 "Sir," the woman said, "you have nothing to draw with and the well is deep. Where can you get this living water? 12 Are you greater than our father Jacob, who gave us the well and drank from it himself, as did also his sons and his livestock?"
Now, go back through the verses and locate a word or phrase that stands out. As we read, we ask:
Lord, what does it say?
As I read these couple of verses, the phrase that was highlighted to me was, "You have nothing to draw water with, and the well is deep."
As I asked God, "What does it say?" He reminded me that she doubts, too. She doesn't see the possible nested within the impossible in this conversation. She is desperately looking for a physical solution to a spiritual problem. She questions the Messiah's ability to deliver and that questioning is good and welcome.
Meditatio (Meditate)
Now that we have a word or a phrase the Spirit has revealed to us, we chew on it. Most of us have recently celebrated Thanksgiving, so you likely experienced chewing. It's not chew twice and swallow; we need to gnaw on it like a turkey leg. (Special thanks to my second oldest son for this inspirational photo and his undying joy for a good turkey leg at Thanksgiving. May we gnaw with him.)
The Word, energized by the Spirit, begins to form our hearts and wills. We ask, "Lord what are you saying to me?"
"You have nothing to draw water with and the well is deep."
I have such an affinity with this woman. She's logical, knows her surroundings, and has a cultural understanding of the Law and the patriarchal structure. It's like she's saying, "Let me recount for you how this gift you speak of isn't going to work out for me."
She points toward what is natural and familiar to her in the physical realm. "There is no bucket, Jesus, and that well is a long, dark fall."
You, however, are not in the realm of the flesh, but in the realm of the spirit. Romans 8:9
If I were this woman, I would be direct, lay out the facts, ask a question, and then check for holes in the pecking order. She did just that:
You have nothing to draw water with
The well is deep
Where do you get that living water?
Are you greater than...
She built what she thought was an iron-clad argument for why this hopeful, living water would fail her. It seems almost foolish to hope when you are buried underneath so many layers of disappointment and have dark doubts about _____________ (fill in the blank) working.
Oratio (Prayer)
During this rhythm, we anchor ourselves in God's gracious response to us. He has spoken (in both the reading and the meditation), and now we respond.
What do I want to say to God?
This section is where journaling can help the racing and wandering mind. I struggle to focus when there are so many thoughts and stimuli around. The weight of the pen in your hand and the texture of the paper as you write helps smooth the bumpy, random thoughts. It takes time and practice, but learning and engaging your heart and mind through journaling is a beautiful discipline.
Alright, back to our text. I've shared my Lectio (Reading) and Meditatio (Meditation) reflections. Now, as I sit here and think about what I want to say to God (which I wrote in my journal before typing this), here's what came out (full disclosure that this wasn't everything I wrote and I did scrub out all the scribbles):
God,
I have more faith in my fears than in you performing a miracle. This isn't a reflection of your character but a marred vision of how I see you and what I believe to be true about you. So much hope is needed: in a marriage that I pray is renewed, in friendships that have become dry, in a schedule that I have ambitiously created, in a handful of 2024 objectives that seem impossible to achieve, and I fear failure. In all these heavy circumstances, I question, I ask, and I am learning to trust that you will purify and rightly address the situations. Lord, let your Word dismantle and deconstruct me. I have self-constructed strongholds and structures in my heart and mind, which can only be removed by your divine power. Demolish my worldview first. Then, open my eyes to see You as You are. And, let me trust you always in between. Amen.
Contemplatio (Contemplate)
Far too often, I skip this practice. I've read, I've listened, and I've responded. That's enough, yes? Again, this is not a Christian "formula" for a deeper walk. Lectio Divina is a discipline or practice to help us more intimately encounter God. This last rhythm is life-giving. God has spoken to us, and we have spoken in return. And, now, we rest in God's abiding love.
When you think about the creation story in Genesis, God created the garden's order, beauty, and abundant pleasures. Then, He created man. When God created man, it was to enjoy life from a posture of rest. All the busy work was complete, and then God created man to enjoy those pleasures and rest in them (man's first full day was the day God rested).
We should think about resting in God's abiding love when we contemplate. Regardless of what was read, spoken, and responded to, we must return to our created posture of rest, which was restored to us through Christ Jesus (Matthew 11:28; Hebrews 4). So, as we close out our newly learned practice (and, it does take practice), we return to God's absolute identity: love.
Let us pause and take in all the warmth that His love brings us, for in it, we find refuge. Amen.