Okay, you know that verse about how the lion shall lie down with the lamb? Do you know what part of the Bible it’s in? Turns out it’s in the same section where we find the oft-(mis)quoted verse “God helps those who help themselves.” That is to say, nowhere, at least not in quite those words. Pondering this coming Sunday’s lectionary reading from the Hebrew scriptures (Isaiah 11.1-10), it struck me that although the lion and lamb turn up in close proximity, Isaiah presents us with a somewhat different vision than the one I’d been carrying around in my head. Here’s how it goes, in part:
The wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them. The cow and the bear shall graze, their young shall lie down together; and the lion shall eat straw like the ox. (Isaiah 11.6, 7 NRSV)
I had totally forgotten about the cow and the bear. Something about their paired appearance in this magnificent vision—one of the Bible’s most beautiful and powerful descriptions of a world set right—just struck me funny. It sounds like a setup for a Far Side cartoon. A cow and a bear are in a bar, see…
Anyhoo, the image of that cow got me thinking about the person who first taught me about lectio divina (Greek for sacred reading), the ancient art of praying with the scriptures and other sacred texts. Sr. Kathleen, a Dominican nun who introduced me to lectio as she led a clergywomen’s retreat years ago, sometimes calls this form of prayer “lectio bovina” for its ruminative, meditative, contemplative quality. Lectio invites us to take a small bite of a text—a few verses or perhaps just a few words—and slooooowly chew on them, and ponder them, and pray with them, until they give up something that will provide sustenance for our soul and nourishment for our work in the world.
Lectio offers a terrain that in some ways is like the landscape of a dream. Doing this kind of sacred reading with a text, especially a visionary text such as the one Isaiah offers, bears similarities to how we might reflect on a dream. In the contemplative space of lectio, we ponder the variety of associations and connections between the text and our own story. If the text offers characters to us, we may look for how they reflect different parts of ourselves and what they might have to say to us. We imaginatively engage the symbols and metaphors that the written words present to us. And we look for the possibilities that our more rational minds might never have conjured up—those soul-invitations that we sometimes have a hard time noticing otherwise. Lectio is the necessary, complementary counterpoint to Bible study; within its borders, connections and possibilities surface that we might not otherwise have been able to imagine.
Like a wolf living with a lamb, and a cow and a bear grazing together. Ruminating on this vision that Isaiah offers, I’ve found myself wondering, What are the natures I carry within myself? What are the names of the creatures who pace in my soul, and how do they live together in a way that offers a glimpse of the kingdom, a foretaste of a time when all things will be reconciled? How can the “someday” that Isaiah foresees become a vision that begins to take root right now in my life? What unimagined connections, pairings, possibilities might God be challenging me to entertain in these Advent days and beyond?
A blessing upon your ruminating.
An Illuminated Joy
December 5, 2007 at 10:05 am |
I can’t believe I’m blogging. I’ve never done this before, but I find myself in this place that compels me to write. You’ve stirred up lots of things in my soul, Jan. Thanks for giving me the opportunity to enjoy both images and words to ruminate. I’ve caught up now, so I am anticipating each daily door and the fruit it will bring to these days of expectation.
December 5, 2007 at 12:32 pm |
What a gift you are giving those in cyberspace to take time to compose this blog during Advent. Thank you!