Thoughts on 'Divine Reading'
March 6, 2012
A Ref21 reader has asked if I have any thoughts on lectio divina, a rather pretentious term for contemplative Bible reading, whether individual or in a group. A description of what it typically entails can be found here.
On the positive side, it is a good thing to read scripture thoughtfully and to meditate upon its meaning and significance. That aspect of LD is in principle to be welcomed. One might also add to that the notion of reading the Bible slowly. I know that it is one of Derek Thomas's major complaints that people read the Bible too quickly in public worship; the same probably applies to private devotions as well. The encouragement to be praying for each other, and praying for specifics, is also a very important and delightful aspect of the plan and something from which all churches might learn..
More concerning is the underlying incipient mysticism the practice seems to involve. At first glance, it might seem good to 'set aside analysis and what [we] know about the passage, seeking instead to open [ourselves] to God's word.' I appreciate the underlying idea here: that we always need to be open to having our understanding of a text checked, corrected and improved; but the suggestion here seems either to go further than this or to express this thought rather ineptly. To set aside analysis and prior knowledge seems to presuppose that what we know already is a hindrance rather than a help to understanding what the passage is actually saying. That is problematic both in the context of how we are to understand discipleship (surely in part a process by which we grow in our knowledge of the bible and our competence in reading the same) and in the simply common sense terms of how we actually read texts. Humanly speaking, I can hardly read John 3:16 in a personal or biblical vacuum, isolated from the other parts of the Bible I have read and the many sermons I have heard. Even if I could, such a reading would scarcely be advisable, given the nature of the Bible as canon. To let go of my preconceptions, if such were possible, would almost certainly lead to me missing much of the richness of what is being said in the text and finding myself with a solipsistic and by definition incorrigible understanding of the verse or verses in hand. While the instructions do not say this explicitly, they would seem to offer little to counter an understanding of scripture as the occasion for God to speak to me and as not carrying an intrinsic, objective horizon of meaning in itself. That is not what is believed, I am sure; but such a practice as outlined seems vulnerable to being taken in such a direction.
The language of experience is also interesting, especially in the overall context of meditation. Again, one can hardly not experience the Bible as one reads it; but the accenting of experience as key to the interpretation or significance of the verse/passage is clearly mystical in tendency.
When it comes to mysticism, B B Warfield makes it clear that there is a connection between a mystical Christianity of inner experience and a rationalist Christianity. Schleiermacher might be one great example of this: his articulation of the faith involved rendering as irrelevant traditional doctrinal claims by turning such language into expressions of religious psychology. The net result was an anti-supernatural Christianity designed to appeal to religion's cultured despisers and a dogmatic structure that was really an expression of inner experience. Thus, the connection here between inner experience and the practical difference this makes to the life of the participant is also striking.
Overall, it seems to me that this articulation of LD amounts to a formalized elaboration in sophisticated language of those Bible studies where everybody has a chance to tell everybody else 'This is what the passage means to me,' and, depending on the innate ability of the participants, the group may not necessarily go home with a better understanding of the passage or, indeed, any understanding of the passage at all. Such is not really consonant with a Reformation understanding of scripture which placed a high premium on analyzing the text to establish its meaning and on a view of the church where the reading and understanding of scripture was to be guided and facilitated by those set aside as competent for the task. Not that the Reformers disapproved of individuals reading the Bible for themselves; but they were clear that, when doing so, such should not do so in isolation from the analysis and knowledge provided by their nurture within the church.
As a postscript, I am struck by how mysticism always seems to have a strange allure for the urban middle classes. I remember in the late nineties chatting to Donald Meek, then Professor of Celtic Languages at the University of Aberdeen, a godly Christian and the son of the last Gaelic Baptist preacher in Scotland. The topic of our conversation was the then-trendy Celtic Christianity movement. I asked him what he thought of it and will never forget his answer: 'It's just a Christian answer to the New Age Movement which appeals to middle class English stockbrokers.' In that one line there was a lot of sociological and psychological wisdom.
On the positive side, it is a good thing to read scripture thoughtfully and to meditate upon its meaning and significance. That aspect of LD is in principle to be welcomed. One might also add to that the notion of reading the Bible slowly. I know that it is one of Derek Thomas's major complaints that people read the Bible too quickly in public worship; the same probably applies to private devotions as well. The encouragement to be praying for each other, and praying for specifics, is also a very important and delightful aspect of the plan and something from which all churches might learn..
More concerning is the underlying incipient mysticism the practice seems to involve. At first glance, it might seem good to 'set aside analysis and what [we] know about the passage, seeking instead to open [ourselves] to God's word.' I appreciate the underlying idea here: that we always need to be open to having our understanding of a text checked, corrected and improved; but the suggestion here seems either to go further than this or to express this thought rather ineptly. To set aside analysis and prior knowledge seems to presuppose that what we know already is a hindrance rather than a help to understanding what the passage is actually saying. That is problematic both in the context of how we are to understand discipleship (surely in part a process by which we grow in our knowledge of the bible and our competence in reading the same) and in the simply common sense terms of how we actually read texts. Humanly speaking, I can hardly read John 3:16 in a personal or biblical vacuum, isolated from the other parts of the Bible I have read and the many sermons I have heard. Even if I could, such a reading would scarcely be advisable, given the nature of the Bible as canon. To let go of my preconceptions, if such were possible, would almost certainly lead to me missing much of the richness of what is being said in the text and finding myself with a solipsistic and by definition incorrigible understanding of the verse or verses in hand. While the instructions do not say this explicitly, they would seem to offer little to counter an understanding of scripture as the occasion for God to speak to me and as not carrying an intrinsic, objective horizon of meaning in itself. That is not what is believed, I am sure; but such a practice as outlined seems vulnerable to being taken in such a direction.
The language of experience is also interesting, especially in the overall context of meditation. Again, one can hardly not experience the Bible as one reads it; but the accenting of experience as key to the interpretation or significance of the verse/passage is clearly mystical in tendency.
When it comes to mysticism, B B Warfield makes it clear that there is a connection between a mystical Christianity of inner experience and a rationalist Christianity. Schleiermacher might be one great example of this: his articulation of the faith involved rendering as irrelevant traditional doctrinal claims by turning such language into expressions of religious psychology. The net result was an anti-supernatural Christianity designed to appeal to religion's cultured despisers and a dogmatic structure that was really an expression of inner experience. Thus, the connection here between inner experience and the practical difference this makes to the life of the participant is also striking.
Overall, it seems to me that this articulation of LD amounts to a formalized elaboration in sophisticated language of those Bible studies where everybody has a chance to tell everybody else 'This is what the passage means to me,' and, depending on the innate ability of the participants, the group may not necessarily go home with a better understanding of the passage or, indeed, any understanding of the passage at all. Such is not really consonant with a Reformation understanding of scripture which placed a high premium on analyzing the text to establish its meaning and on a view of the church where the reading and understanding of scripture was to be guided and facilitated by those set aside as competent for the task. Not that the Reformers disapproved of individuals reading the Bible for themselves; but they were clear that, when doing so, such should not do so in isolation from the analysis and knowledge provided by their nurture within the church.
As a postscript, I am struck by how mysticism always seems to have a strange allure for the urban middle classes. I remember in the late nineties chatting to Donald Meek, then Professor of Celtic Languages at the University of Aberdeen, a godly Christian and the son of the last Gaelic Baptist preacher in Scotland. The topic of our conversation was the then-trendy Celtic Christianity movement. I asked him what he thought of it and will never forget his answer: 'It's just a Christian answer to the New Age Movement which appeals to middle class English stockbrokers.' In that one line there was a lot of sociological and psychological wisdom.
