Following Christ

Categories Following Christ

Set forth Thee: A Prayer

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Lord, grant us calm, if calm can set forth Thee;
Or tempest, if a tempest set Thee forth;
Wind from the east or west or south or north,
Or congelation of a silent sea,
With stillness of each tremulous aspen tree.

Still let fruit fall, or hang upon the tree;
Still let the east and west, the south and north,
Curb in their winds, or plough a thundering sea;
Still let the earth abide to set Thee forth,
Or vanish like a smoke to set forth Thee

~by Christina Rossetti

Calm or tempest.
Wind or stillness.
Fruit falling or remaining.
Stillness or wind.
Remain or disappear.

What makes this antonymous collection not only bearable but desirable?

That God might be glorified.

“I know how to be brought low,
and I know how to abound.
In any and every circumstance,
I have learned the secret
of facing plenty and hunger,
abundance and need.”
~Philippians 4:12 (ESV)

Lord, bring me low, if dejection set forth Thee;
Or cause me to abound, if abundance set Thee forth;
Teach me the secret of contentment
whatever my circumstances may be

Let my home, my heart, my hands be filled with plenty
If plenty lifts You high.
If hunger makes You great,
may I never eat again

Still let this earth, and I, abide to set Thee forth,
Or vanish like a smoke to set forth Thee

Categories Following Christ

He will deliver thee

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I’ve been slowly reading through C.H. Spurgeon’s Spurgeon on Prayer and Spiritual Warfare after my morning times in the word – and this week, his text has been Psalm 50:15 “Call upon me in the day of trouble: I will deliver thee.”

The morning before we were admitted to the hospital, I read the following words:

“I write this with all reverence: God Himself cannot deliver a person who is not in trouble… The point is, my reader, your adversity may prove your advantage by offering occasion for the display of divine grace… When you are in adversity, then call upon God, and you will experience a deliverance that will be a richer and sweeter experience for your soul than if you had never known trouble.”

I did not know the trouble that would come – but I knew the trouble I had experienced in the past, and I knew that it was indeed an occasion for the display of divine grace. While I would never choose adversity for myself (would any of us?), I know indeed that God’s deliverance does prove a richer and sweeter experience for my soul than had I never known trouble.

I remembered those words as we entered the hospital with a pregnancy in trouble again, rejoicing that my God is present, inviting me to call upon Him, willing to deliver me.

Yesterday morning Spurgeon reminded me of God’s promise: He will deliver me.

“Hear Him say, ‘I will deliver thee,’ and ask no more questions.

I do not suppose that Daniel knew how God would deliver him out of the den of lions. I do not suppose that Joseph knew how he would be delivered out of prison when his master’s wife had slandered his character so shamefully. I do not suppose that these ancient believers even dreamed the way of the Lord’s deliverance. They just left themselves in God’s hands. They rested on God and He delivered them in the best possible manner. He will do the same for you. Simply call upon Him, and then ‘stand still, and see the salvation of the Lord’ (Exod. 14:13)

…God may likewise subject us to many trials. Yet if He says ‘I will deliver thee,’ you can be sure that He will keep His word.”

And that is the promise in which I can trust – not that I know God’s means of deliverance or the timing of his deliverance or any such details. In fact, I am reminded of Hebrews 11:36-38

“They were stoned, they were sawn in two, they were killed with the sword. They went in skins of sheep and goats, destitute, afflicted, mistreated – of whome the world was not worthy – wandering about in deserts and mountains, and in dens and caves of the earth.” (ESV)

In this life, these saints, commended for their faith, did not receive what was promised.

But in the life to come?

Deliverance.

Today, that great cloud of witnesses – the ones who received their deliverance in this life and the ones who received their deliverance in the next – urge me to look to Jesus, the truest testimony that God will deliver me.

For

“He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?”

Romans 8:32 (ESV)

He will deliver thee.

Categories Following Christ

Memory Stories

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I hear Tirzah Mae screaming and take a trust fall out of bed. I go to her crib, pick her up, and cuddle her close. We walk into the living room where I put the CD player on pause and drop to my knees to pray. A golden father dripping with glittering olive oil hands me a ghost carrying the book of Proverbs and wearing a gigantic pair of glasses. The ghost gives me the glasses, which I put on my chest. I can now see a basketball hoop hanging over the windows, with gold coins raining down through the hoop onto the couch. A man grabs hold of the hoop and begins doing pull-ups…

A really trippy dream, huh?

Well, not quite.

Instead, it’s my attempt to use memory tricks to assist me in memorizing Paul’s prayer in Ephesians 1:15-23.

Lisa discussed memory palaces in Day 7 of her 31 Days to Memorizing a Bible Chapter – and referenced Moonwalking with Einstein, which I’m reading through on her recommendation.

The idea behind a memory palace is that you attach things you’re trying to memorize (in a memorable and visual way) to location cues that are familiar (and also memorable). Mine is a little different because I haven’t attached everything to locations, per se – but I’ve created an outlandish but memorable story (outlandish is good when it comes to memories) to help me remember key details from the passage I’m memorizing.

Let’s see if I can share how that works.

I HEAR Tirzah Mae screaming…

“For this reason, because I have HEARD…”

…and take a TRUST FALL out of bed.

“…of your FAITH in the Lord Jesus…”

I go to her crib, pick her up, and CUDDLE her close.

“…and your LOVE toward all the saints…”

We walk into the living room where I put the CD player on PAUSE…

“…I do not CEASE to give thanks for you…”

…and drop to my knees to PRAY.

“…remembering you in my PRAYERS…”

A golden FATHER dripping with GLITTERING olive oil…

“…that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the FATHER OF GLORY…”

…hands me a ghost…

“…may give you the SPIRIT…”

…carrying the book of PROVERBS…

“…of wisdom…”

….and wearing a gigantic pair of GLASSES.

“…and REVELATION in the knowledge of Him.”

The ghost gives me the GLASSES, which I put on my CHEST.

“…having the EYES of you HEARTS ENLIGHTENED…”

I can now see a basketball HOOP hanging over the windows…

“…that you might know the HOPE to which he has called you…”

…with GOLD COINS raining down through the hoop onto the couch.

“…what are the RICHES of his GLORIOUS inheritance in the saints…”

A man grabs hold of the hoop and begins doing PULL-UPS…

“…and what is the immeasurable greatness of his POWER toward us who believe, according to the working of his great MIGHT…

I don’t consider myself a particularly creative person, so coming up with a story to help me remember the key points in this passage was difficult – but while I don’t have the whole passage down word-for-word yet (I started last Monday), just the practice of coming up with this story made me able to paraphrase these five verses with a reasonable degree of accuracy the day after I came up with the story.

Have you ever tried using a memory palace or other mnemonic devices to memorize a passage of Scripture?

Categories Following Christ, Relationships

The Difference Thanks Makes

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As we get close to November and start thinking towards Thanksgiving (and before the 30-Day Thankfulness Challenges start popping up on Facebook), I’ve been noticing thankfulness in daily life.

Now, I usually think of thankfulness in terms of thankfulness to God – and generally get frustrated when the focus is on thankfulness towards other people (don’t even get me started on what I think of how “the pilgrims gave thanks to the Indians on the first thanksgiving.”)

And thankfulness to God is essential. He is, after all, the source of every good gift (See James 1:17).

But being thankful to God doesn’t preclude thankfulness to others. In fact, I think thanking God should naturally flow out into thanking others. As I become aware of God’s gifts, I become aware of how he uses others as gifts in my life. That’s when I can give thanks, like Paul did in Romans 16:3-4: “Greet Prisca and Aquila, my fellow workers in Christ Jesus, who risked their necks for my life, to whom not only I give thanks but all the churches of the Gentiles give thanks as well.”

Recognizing that God never commands being thankful to anyone other than Himself, I still think that thankfulness to others can be a powerful part of the Christian life. Why?

Because even if we aren’t commanded to be thankful to others, we are commanded to encourage one another (See 1 Thessalonians 5:11, 14). And thankfulness is hugely encouraging.

Because even if we aren’t commanded to be thankful to others, we are commanded to love one another (See John 13:34-35, Romans 12:10, Ephesians 5:2 and others). And thankfulness is nothing if not loving.

The best example I can think of for thankfulness to others (and how it encourages and demonstrates love) is my husband.

I cook dinner for us almost every evening, and it almost never fails that sometime, in the course of the meal or the evening, Daniel will thank me for making dinner.

When I make a phone call or post a letter or run an errand for Daniel, he makes sure to thank me – verbally, in a text, in an email.

I sometimes often get discouraged with my housekeeping abilities or my time-management skills or a dozen other real or perceived faults. And almost always, Daniel’s response is thanks.

“Thank you for taking care of our daughter all day.”

“Thank you for doing dishes.”

“Thank you for folding the laundry.”

“Thank you for growing us tomatoes.”

“Thank you for listening to me.”

It’s not big things that he’s thanking me for. If I chose, I could brush off his thanks with a “no problem.” And those things aren’t a problem (usually). But that’s not the point.

The point is that when he thanks me, I feel encouraged. I feel strengthened. I feel loved.

That is the difference thanks makes.

And it challenges me to do the same for others.

Categories Book Notes, Following Christ

C.S. Lewis to Bloggers

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In his masterful turn-the-world-upside-down book The Screwtape Letters, C.S. Lewis has his diabolical character Screwtape write the following:

“It remains to consider how we can retrieve this disaster. The great thing is to prevent his doing anything. As long as he does not convert [his conviction and subsequent remorse] into action, it does not matter how much he thinks about this new repentance. Let the little brute wallow in it. Let him, if he has any bent that way, write a book about it; that is often an excellent way of sterilising the seeds which the Enemy plants in a human soul. Let him do anything but act.”

I felt the sting as I read.

But will I convert the conviction of the Lord into obedience?

“But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves. For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man who looks intently at his natural face in a mirror. For he looks at himself and goes away and at once forgets what he was like. But the one who looks into the perfect law, the law of liberty, and perseveres, being no hearer who forgets but a doer who acts, he will be blessed in his doing.”

~James 1:22-25 (ESV)

Categories Following Christ

Legalism and Lawlessness

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Suppose you were six years old and your parents had just given you some new boundaries for riding your bike.

You could ride from one next door neighbor’s driveway to the other next door neighbor’s driveway – a distance spanning approximately two yard widths.

Elated to learn your new boundaries, you hop and your bike and ride as fast as you can to the far edge of your next door neighbor’s driveway – and sit there looking at the next driveway down until your mother calls you in for dinner.

Ridiculous, right?

So what about this one?

Given the same boundaries, you reason that if you get on your bike and start riding down the sidewalk you might not be able to stop and turn in time to avoid outriding your boundaries. So you get on your bike and sit in the center of your own driveway until your mother calls you in for dinner.

Equally ridiculous.

When I was six (or whatever age I was) and those were my boundaries, I’ll tell you what I did. I got on my bike and rode from one driveway to another and back again. Over and over and over again until my mother called me in for dinner.

I trusted that my mother meant what she said when she gave me those boundaries. I trusted that meant I wouldn’t go wrong as long as I was inside them – and that something would go wrong if I was outside them. And so I fully enjoyed life within those boundaries (except the times when I didn’t – because even six-year-old me was a sinner, who sometimes thought life was better outside her boundaries – but that’s neither here nor there as this example goes).

The above scenarios are what I think of when I see Christians who don’t seem to know how to get together without drinking alcohol. They’re what I think of when I see Christians who want to forbid anyone from drinking alcohol lest they cross the line from drinking to drunk.

The above scenarios are what I think of when I see Christians who only listen to secular music. They’re what I think of when I see Christians who get upset because any other Christian is listening to secular music.

My little scenarios are simplistic, I know.

A wise little girl would recognize that she needs a certain amount of space in which to turn – so she leaves herself that space when approaching the boundary. And a wise Christian recognizes that if she has a personal or family history of alcoholism, she may need to abstain.

A loving little girl might recognize that her three-year-old brother has more constricted boundaries than she – so she might choose to play with her brother inside his own boundaries rather than pushing on to play where she legitimately may.

But it seems to me that, so long as I am neither going against my own conscience nor offending my brother, God is glorified when I fully enjoy everything within the boundaries – neither confining myself to the fence nor to the point farthest from the fence.

Categories Book Notes, Following Christ

Down from the mountain

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When I was in high school, our youth group talked about “mountaintop experiences”.

Mountaintop experiences were when we had some sort of emotional experience with God or His word, usually at a camp or other special event. We would get all hyped up about one thing or another – evangelism, personal holiness, being in the word, whatever.

I don’t remember if we had any direct teaching on the Biblical basis for the term, but it hearkened to Moses on the mountaintop receiving revelation from the Lord or to Peter and James and John seeing Christ transfigured on the mountain. Away from people on the mountaintop, each of these had very special encounters with God.

And each of these ran into difficulties when they returned from the mountaintop to face everday life. Moses found the camp worshipping a golden calf. The disciples came down to discover their compatriots unable to cast out a demon.

We were given warnings about life off the mountaintop. We were warned that we’d come home from camp only to be tempted to get into a fight with our parents. And, amazingly enough, the warnings were usually right. It was a lot harder to be obedient, to be in the Word, to tell others about Christ once we were back in everyday life, once we had to clean our rooms and do our homework and get along with our siblings.

I was struck, as I re-read The Silver Chair last month for the Chronicles of Narnia Reading Challenge, that Lewis describes a mountaintop experience as well – and describes the difficulty of coming down from the mountain.

Jill meets Aslan on a vast plateau that sits high, high, high above the land of Narnia. She receives a task from Aslan: to find the lost prince of Narnia. And she receives four signs by which to complete the task.

Before Aslan blows Jill off the mountaintop to meet Eustace, he gives her a last warning – a warning about life off the mountaintop.

“Stand still. In a moment I will blow. But, first, remember, remember, remember the signs. Say them to yourself when you wake in the morning and when you lie down at night, and when you wake in the middle of the night. And whatever strange things may happen to you, let nothing turn your mind from following the signs. And secondly, I give you a warning. Here on the mountain I have spoken to you clearly: I will not often do so in Narnia. Here on the mountain, the air is clear and your mind is clear; as you drop down into Narnia, the air will thicken. Take great care that it does not confuse your mind. And the signs which you have learned here will not look at all as you expect them to look, when you meet them there. That is why it is so important to know them by heart and pay no attention to appearances. Remember the signs and believe the signs. Nothing else matters. And now, daughter of Eve, farewell — “

Aslan gives two instructions on leaving the mountaintop, but they are really one.

“Remember, remember, remember,” Aslan said. Lewis has Aslan almost quote the words following the Hebrew shema in Deuteronomy 6:

“And these words that I command you today shall be on your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise. You shall bind them as a sign on your hand, and they shall be as frontlets between your eyes. You shall write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates.”

~Deuteronomy 6:6-9 (ESV)

Aslan was telling Jill that she needed to remember what he had spoken. She needed to repeat his words to herself multiple times a day. She needed to return to his word again and again and again.

“Let nothing turn your mind”, Aslan said. He was telling Jill that she needed to purpose to be obedient to Aslan’s word. What’s more, she needed to keep on purposing to do Aslan’s word, whatever the inducements otherwise.

“Take great care that it does not confuse your mind,” Aslan said. He was telling Jill that she needed to guard against distraction. I am reminded first of Titus 3:9 (I’m in Titus now, so that’s on my mind quite a bit), where Paul warns the Cretans: “But avoid foolish controversies, genealogies, dissensions, and quarrels about the law, for they are unprofitable and worthless.” When Jill told bits of their quest to the lady of the green kirtle, she laughed them off with what seemed like enlightened words, dismissing Aslan’s words as myths. Eventually, under the power of the lady’s smoke, she would make Jill and her companions doubt that life above the ground even exists. Confusion was everywhere – but Jill needed to guard against distractions from her purpose – and from what Aslan had said.

“Pay no attention to appearances,” Aslan said. He was telling Jill that she needed to value Aslan’s word above her interpretation. How easy would it have been for Jill to have paraphrased the third sign “You shall find a writing on a stone in that ruined city, and you must do what the writing tells you” as “Follow the directions on the stone sign”? Very easy, I think. And when she saw the words “Under me” inscribed on the stone? She would have been looking for a stone sign, not writing carved on the stone underfoot. She could have missed (and nearly did miss) what Aslan had directed if she’d allowed herself to fixate on her interpretation of the sign rather than the sign itself. The Pharisees of Jesus’ day did exactly that, fixating on what they thought the Messiah was supposed to be and missing the Messiah when He came. “You search the Scriptures because you think that in them you have eternal life; and it is they that bear witness about me, yet you refuse to come to me that you may have life.” (John 5:39-40 ESV)

Lewis’s advice, given by the mouth of Aslan, is good advice, I think, for those of us who live on this side of divine revelation. We have the signs, they are written in the Scriptures. But as we live our busy lives, if we are to live out the purposes for which God has called us, we must:

  • Remember what God has spoken
  • Purpose to be obedient to what God has spoken
  • Guard against distractions
  • Value God’s word above our interpretations

If we do these four things, I think we will avoid many of the traps that lie in store for us in this world down from the mountain.

Categories Following Christ, Parenting

The End of Myself

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Desperation.

That’s what I felt as Tirzah Mae’s not sleeping at night approached two months.

Would she ever sleep through the night again? Would my “good” baby, who never cried unless she needed something, ever return?

Despite the doctor’s ultimate diagnosis of colic as the source of her crying and frequent night waking (in other words, “crying for no understandable reason”), I was convinced there was something causing her crying. Yes, we ruled out GERD when two weeks of medication had no effect. But prior to this, Tirzah Mae never cried unless she needed something: she was hungry, she was dirty, she was overtired, she was in pain.

As I got up with her yet again, bleary eyed and exhausted from two months of rarely finishing a sleep cycle and from the effort of cleaning up a filthy mobile home while my own home slipped back into chaos, I was absolutely desperate.

I made a plan to do what I’d been toying with for weeks – I’d go to the pharmacy, pick up every scientifically suspect remedy. Gripe water. Simethicone. Homeopathic remedies.

I was willing to throw away my scientific dogmatism, to do anything, however contrary to my training and philosophy, if only it would help.

That’s when, in desperation, I cried out to God: “God, heal my daughter.”

At long last, she was soothed and fell back asleep. I left her in her crib and returned to my own bed, where I continued to cry out to God until I fell asleep myself.

And I slept. Two hours, three, four.

I roused, thinking surely my overtiredness had kept me from hearing Tirzah Mae’s screams. I heard her rustling in her crib – and nothing more.

I fell back asleep.

Six hours after she had fallen asleep, she awoke and fussed for her mother.

The next night, she slept another five to six hours. And the next. She’s slept wonderfully since Tuesday.

And I turn, at the end of myself, wondering why I waited so long to turn to God.

Why is it that I only turn to Him after I’ve diagnosed her myself, after I’ve turned to the internet, after I’ve turned to the doctor, after the medication fails? Why did I wait until my only other resort was hocus-pocus?

It’s frightening, how slowly I turn to the one who knows all things, who alone has the power to change all circumstances.

It’s humbling, how sinful I am even in turning to Christ.

But it’s so amazing, how God’s mercy doesn’t punish me for waiting to turn to Him. Instead, He graciously grants my daughter (and myself) sleep.

Just one more example of the gospel at work: God, graciously giving good gifts to those who don’t deserve it, forgiving those who turn aside so often to self-reliant idolatry.

Thank you, Lord, for bringing me to the end of myself. Thank you, Lord, for your patience with my delay. Thank you for reminding me again how it is only in you that I live and move and have my being. May I turn aside from self-idolatry and ever more quickly turn to you, the source of all life.

Categories Following Christ, Pregnancy, Thankful Thursday

Thankful Thursday: Truth in Song

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As we showered this morning, I began to sing “It is Well with My Soul” (secretly enjoying the allergy-deepened sound of my own voice.)

“When peace like a river
attendeth my way
When sorrows like sea billows roll
Whatever the cost
Thou hast taught me to say
“It is well, it is well with my soul.”

It is well (It is well)
With my soul (With my soul)
It is well, it is well with my soul.”

I began on the second verse

“Though Satan should buffet
Though trials shall come…

And I stopped, searching my mental song bank for the rest of the verse. Where was the promise of deliverance, the reassurance that everything would be all right, the reminder that the trials would not overwhelm?

I gave up my quest and sang what came to mind.

“Let this blest assurance control
That God hath regarded my sinful estate
and hath shed His own blood for my soul.”

It was only after I’d finished the third verse that I realized the truth.

“My sin, O the bliss of this glorious thought
My sin, not in part but the whole,
was nailed to the cross
And I bear it no more.
Praise the Lord! Praise the Lord, O my soul!”

That had been the second part of the second verse. This song offers no blest assurance of some future event in this life. Instead, it harkens back to a blest assurance already completed: “That God hath regarded my sinful estate and hath shed his own blood for my soul.”

Yes, the looming threat of preeclampsia, of having to have a hospital birth, of maybe having to quit my job early and be on bed rest, of not being able to fully participate in our upcoming family vacation, of maybe going into premature labor – all those are trials that may come.

But my greatest problem has already been solved. My sin has been paid for, my soul secure. This is where my hope lies, not in happy outcomes on this earth, but in a blood-purchased ransom already accomplished.

So I will sing again through the tears.

“It is well (It is well)
With my soul (With my soul)
It is well, it is well with my soul.”

Categories Following Christ

Contemplating the Word

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I was unfamiliar with the practice of Lectio Divina until I read a post from Tim Challies criticizing it.

According to Wikipedia, Lectio Divina is:

“a traditional Benedictine practice of scriptural reading, meditation and prayer intended to promote communion with God and to increase the knowledge of God’s Word. It does not treat Scripture as texts to be studied, but as the Living Word.”

This particular practice takes four phases:
1. Reading the Word (Lectio)
2. Meditating on the Word (Meditatio)
3. Praying the Word (Oratio)
4. Contemplating the Word (Contemplatio)

The second sentence of Wikipedia’s introduction to the practice makes clear the intent and focus of Lectio Divina versus other approaches to Scripture: “It does not treat Scripture as texts to be studied, but as the living Word.”

Challies’ criticism of Lectio Divina, drawn primarily from David Helms’ Expositional Preaching, comes from a strong belief that the Scriptures are texts to be studied – and that the study of Scripture should be our primary relationship with it.

I struggle.

I believe strongly in studying the Scriptures. I love inductive Bible study. I delight in asking questions of the text and using the text to answer those questions. I enjoy cross-referencing and digging deeper into the meanings of words and phrases, looking at how one writer uses a phrase and how another does. I am a fan of expositional preaching. Studying the Word is important to me.

Yet I am also something of a mystic, one who sees Scripture as the Living Word of God, capable of working with our reason but also beyond our reason. Often Scripture is poetry, except more living than any man-turned-phrase, poetry that acts as a balm for hurts reason cannot touch. It is a sword, piercing beyond the brain to the will.

Why must we approach Scripture as either/or? Why cannot we approach it as both?

I prefer to. If I had to describe my favorite approach to Scripture, it would be as a scholastic Lectio Divina

I read the word (lectio) and questions or connections come to mind. I dig into the Word to find answers to those questions or to evaluate those connections.

I meditate on the word (meditatio) and other Scriptures, related words, sometimes disparate thoughts from what seems like nowhere arise in my mind. I jot them down and then dig into the Word to evaluate connections or contrasts between the current text and the new Scriptures that came into my mind. I look at both the words of the text and the new related word that came into my mind, evaluating how the words are used similarly and differently, how the one sheds light on the other – or perhaps doesn’t. I evaluate my strange thoughts in light of the text and sometimes find that they shed light on the text or encourage me to dig deeper, while other times they seem just rabbit trails.

I pray the word (oratio), putting what I’ve learned and seen into my own words and asking God to help me internalize (through attitudes) and externalize (through actions) His living truth. Sometimes He reveals attitudes or actions that are in disobedience to His word, and I am called to repentance. Sometimes He reveals specific actions that I must do to apply His word, and I am called to put them into practice. Sometimes He directs me to go back to the word yet again to dig for something I’ve missed.

I contemplate the Word (contemplatio) as God reveals Himself the Living Word through Scripture. I worship Him, sometimes through thoughts which run through my mind, my pen, or my voice – but sometimes through simple, incomprehensible wonder.

Yes, this is my favorite approach to Scripture – I recognize it as I read through the steps of the Lectio Divina. Yet even as I write it out in my own words, I long to experience this scholastic Lectio Divina more often, more faithfully. Instead, in the busyness of the days, I settle for just reading and possibly exploring one or two questions or connections, without taking the time to meditate, to pray, to contemplate.

Challies is undoubtedly right that emphasizing mystical connection with the Word to the exclusion of empirical study of the Word is dangerous, but I am grateful that his criticism brought to my attention the four steps of the Lectio Divina and reminded me of the value of not stopping at the first step but taking the time to truly savor the Word of God – yes, in the text itself, but also in the Living Word that it proclaims.