In recent years, Lectio Divina—Latin for “Divine Reading”—has surged in popularity as a method of engaging with Scripture. Commonly taught as a four-step process—Lectio, Meditatio, Oratio, Contemplatio—that can be completed between 15 and 30 minutes, it is often promoted as a spiritual and personal way to hear God’s voice through the Bible. While this approach may seem enriching, the modern adaptation risks straying from its original intent and opens the door to subjective interpretations of Scripture, resulting in the replacement of the words of the Spirit with human imagination.
Historically, Lectio Divina was never meant to be a mystical method of Bible reading. Its origins lie in the monastic tradition. It was a call to prioritize reading God’s Word above all other monastic activities, including silence, communal prayer, manual labour, care for the poor, and rest. Monks were expected to read and reflect on the Bible daily, not just for spiritual insight, but that they might be devoted to God, saturated in his Word, and living it out. Benedict of Nursia, for instance, required at least two hours each day of Scripture reading, and thereafter time in meditation and prayer.
This practice was not widely accessible in its early form. Before the Reformation, most Christians did not own a Bible and literacy was limited to the educated elite. Only through the efforts of the Reformers did Scripture become available in vernacular languages, allowing ordinary believers to read God’s Word for themselves. Even then, the Reformers emphasized sound interpretation, grounded in the literal and grammatical meaning of the text.
In contrast, today’s version of Lectio Divina often encourages reading short passages and listening for a personal message from God. This raises two important concerns: How much of the text must we read to understand his message? And how can we be sure what God is truly saying? The words of Scripture are the words of God. To know what he says, we must know the whole context. Without proper context and interpretation, readers risk projecting their own thoughts onto the text rather than discerning God’s intended meaning.
The early church recognized this danger. They relied on trained teachers to read and explain Scripture (Acts 2:42; 1 Tim 4:13; 2 Tim 2:2), emphasizing the need for guidance in understanding the Bible. Those in monasteries who were not literate would hear the reading of Scripture and have it explained to them by senior monks. Personal reading must be complemented by faithful teaching to avoid misinterpretation.
True Lectio Divina as practised by early monastics like Benedict, Anthony of Padua, and Guigo II, involved deep, continuous reading of Scripture, reflection on its meaning, prayerful response, and a life shaped by God’s Word. It was not about isolated verses or mystical experiences but immersing oneself in Scripture and living it out in faithful obedience.
In light of this, we must call for a return to the original spirit of Lectio Divina—a disciplined, thoughtful, and communal engagement with Scripture. Let us read the Bible not to hear our own thoughts echoed back, but to understand and obey the voice of God. This requires humility, careful study, and the guidance of faithful teachers when needed.
By recovering the historical roots of Lectio Divina, we can guard against the dangers of subjectivity and rediscover the richness of Scripture as God intended it to be read—reverently, contextually, and in community.
FOR DISCUSSION
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How will you ensure that your approach to Scripture or Lectio Divina remains faithful to its original intent rather than
projecting personal thoughts onto God’s Word? -
How will your church train all its members to interpret and apply Bible passages correctly if most of them can attend
only Sunday worship services?
