The feeling is mutual, frater
However⦠yes it is about getting oneās daily dose of scripture, and thatās how we make Godās word a part of who we are. That is in fact what the Holy Father is asking of us. He also asks us to pray, and the Liturgy of the Hours can accomplish both at once.
Now, about that ādoseā, and āmeeting Jesus in the textā. If thereās one thing I learned from monastics is this: the essence of their prayer and lectio life is
perseverance. We are a broken species. Godās intent was the unification of our soul with His. Original sin ruptured this bond, and thereās an a more or less huge gap between what we are, and what weāre meant to be and what we think we are: we are what we are, what we think we are is what we construct for ourselves to mask the unpleasant parts of who we are, and what we are meant to be, is what we hope the Word will reveal to us. Monastic life is all about shedding that āfalse selfā, our āaltar egoā that hides who we really are, closing that gap in seeking communion with Him. It requires a humble appraisal of all our weaknesses, but also our strengths, and is the path to the self love required to ālove your neighbour as yourselfā because without genuine, humble and realistic love of self, if you hate yourself, how can you love others as yourself?
The big problem with meeting Jesus is the text is the effect of that gap between a soul unified with God and our broken selves. One of the effects is that weāre not always well-disposed to āmeet Jesus in the textā. In fact most honest monastics will probably say that on
most days they are not disposed to meet Jesus in the text. But through the liturgy and lectio, theyāre exposed to Him whether they feel like it or not. I know for myself I am rarely fully disposed to enter into communion with Jesus in my daily readings. There are too many distractions, too many demons taking possession of my soul, too much of a heart of stone.
But a steady drip of water can wear away even the hardest stone. It works more or less the same with us. That daily dose of scripture wears away a hole in our hearts of stone to reveal, paraphrasing Ezekiel, a little bit of our heart of flesh underneath. And that eventually allows the Word to penetrate into us. But the hole remains very small and we still require perseverance because of the Word trying get into that hole, only a small amount really does make it through.
Through the Liturgy we read the same thing again and again, week after week, year after year. Eventually more and more little bits of the Word sink in⦠often without our even realizing it.
Then at some unexpected but keenly appropriate moment, a relevant scripture or psalm verse wells up in us, nourishes us, and comforts us when we most needed. And we wonder āhow the heck did I remember that verseā, because we donāt ever recall trying. Another way of looking at it: weāre cows, and that verse came back like a cow chewing its cud which is food that it ate mindlessly previously.
In the Rule of Saint Benedictās 12 degrees of humility we see the fruits of that perseverance. Where monks have an advantage over us in the secular world, is that they have the support of a community of brothers to help them persevere. Nobody will notice if Iām too lazy to pray the Office on any given day, but if a monk doesnāt show up in choir, it certainly wonāt escape the communityās, and the abbotās, notice. I almost guilt myself into praying it and doing my readings when Iām not in the mood. I think of some of the most frail monks in the abbey shuffling to the Offices at 5 am, 7:30 am, 9:45 am, 11 (Mass), 12:10 pm, 5 pm, and 7:45 pm, every single day; of the monk so frail that he looks like heāll keel over at any minute who still gets down on his knees on the hard floor when Jesus is present on the altar (no kneelers in the stalls); of the abbot reading Vespers aloud at the beside of a dying monk because even in death, the daily dose of spiritual medicine remains vitally important.
Without that steady daily dose (I simply use the daily Mass and Vigils lectionaries for my daily ādoseā), Iād have been lost a long time ago, even though on most days it flies in one ear and out the other. At least thatās what I think happened, until that verse wells back up in me again unexpectedly to chew on like a cow chews its cudā¦
And on that note, itās time for Sextā¦