Reading Poetry as a Sacred Practice with Lectio Divina
I love when the Apostle Paul says, “We look not at what can be seen but at what cannot be seen; for what can be seen is temporary, but what cannot be seen is eternal” (2 Corinthians 4:18). His words are full of mystery, and give me hope of getting to see this eternal reality during my own lifetime on earth.
Yet, when I do get to “see” this eternal presence it ends up being fleeting. How can I even begin to talk about these brief moments—when the light slants just so, or the choir’s voices join together into one voice that I am enfolded into, or when I am immersed in nature and all of the cells of my bodies are enlivened, and all of creation is shot through with the ineffable holy?
This is why we need poetry.
Poetry can be a way to articulate the transcendence hidden in our material world, to help pin-down its impermanence and receive the gifts we so often miss. The structure of a poem provides a stable form, a home for what we know in part but needs to be named to know more fully. When writing, the poet is creating with the Creator; one of and one with God’s creations. Once recorded, the poet’s chosen words vibrate with this creative encounter, speaking to us not just once but again and again, every time the poem is read.
One of the ways I have learned to approach poetry as a sacred encounter is through the ancient Christian practice Lectio Divina. Most commonly applied to reading biblical scriptures, it helps the reader to practice encountering Christ the living and transcendent Word, made manifest through language, and still stirring and uncovering wisdom today. This practice follows four stages that lead you through a contemplative reading meditation: Lectio (reading), meditatio (meditation), oratio (prayer), contemplatio (contemplation), and some versions include a fifth step for an action. It is an intimate, embodied practice, making way for Christ the Word to be revealed to you and become incarnate in you.
The name Lectio Divina, or “sacred reading,” is often attributed to St. Augustine, the third Century North African Church Father. I believe he had a more nuanced, and mystical, understanding of this practice than many of us do today. St Augustine recognized God’s beauty and presence being revealed not just through the written words of scripture, but through all of creation. He famously said that God gave us two books, the Book of Nature and the Book of Scripture, both to lead us into a deeper knowing of who God is.
St Augustine was one of the wild saints, who’s initial zest for life was misdirected into restless and insatiable addictions. Eventually he realized that every “lovely” thing God had created is not separate from God, but exists in God. In his memoir, The Confessions of St Augustine, he says:
“Late have I loved you, O Beauty ever ancient, ever new, late have I loved you! You were within me, but I was outside, and it was there that I searched for you. In my unloveliness I plunged into the lovely things which you created. You were with me, but I was not with you. Created things kept me from you; yet if they had not been in you they would have not been at all. You called, you shouted, and you broke through my deafness. You flashed, you shone, and you dispelled my blindness. You breathed your fragrance on me; I drew in breath and now I pant for you. I have tasted you, now I hunger and thirst for more. You touched me, and I burned for your peace.”
Rather than seeking to be satisfied by the “created things” or experiences, Augustine learned to attune his inner ear to hear God speaking to him through creation and his embodied experiences in the world. Christ the living Word was calling, shouting, breaking through, flashing and shinning in all of it! The Logos (the Word made flesh, or what some call the “divine DNA”) was permeating creation, buzzing through St. Augustine, and speaking continuously in the biblical records of God’s activity in what had been created long ago.
Following in the tradition of St Augustine, the steps below are my personal adaptation of this “ever ancient, ever new” practice as applied to reading poetry. It can help you relate to poetry as a way to encounter the Word incarnate in language speaking to the Word incarnate in you. I invite you to try doing a “sacred reading” with my poem Mother God is My Comforter: a retelling of a familiar Psalm or another poem of your choosing.
Lectio Divina for Reading Poetry
Begin with presence: Take a couple cleansing breaths. Bring an awareness to God’s presence in and with you. Let go of any thoughts or distractions. Ground yourself in your physical body and the present moment.
Lectio (reading): Read your poem all the way through, slowly and deliberately. You may want to “study” your poem by reflecting on the content, researching anything that is unfamiliar, or learning about the poet.
Then, read your poem through a second time, slowly and deliberately. Without engaging your thinking mind, notice what word or phrase stands out to you. What catches your attention, lights up, or evokes a feeling or physical sensation?
Meditatio (meditation): Pay attention to what God is saying to you through this word or phrase. Meditate on how this word or phrase may apply to your life.
Oratio (prayer): Talk to God about your thoughts, feelings, and observations. If your meditation prompted you to take a certain action ask God for support in carrying this out.
Contemplatio (contemplation): In this final step, let go of your reading, meditation, and prayer and receive your practice as a divinely given gift. Take as much time as you need to rest in God’s presence.
Going forward: As you re-enter your daily life, let this poem live inside of you. Notice how God may continue speaking and revealing insights of wisdom to you. Receive each as a gift.