A friend of mine, who also taught me Christology, when I entered the Order, used to say: “We have teachers, we lack Spiritual Guides.” There is a lot of discussion about Spiritual Direction in the context of the Dominican Order and I will not tackle that problem. My approach tonight is a simpler one: Is there anything practical we can do to improve our spiritual life? Can we get any closer to the great joys and magnificent riches we have been told regarding a contemplative life? My personal conviction is that we can give a decisive “yes” to these two questions.
Although it all probably depends a little on what concept of contemplation we use. In the monastic medieval tradition, contemplation is the somewhat logical conclusion of a road that begins from the simple act of reading. Lectio, Meditatio, Contemplatio were like a three-step ladder, and everybody was invited to climb it.
Lectio is the act of reading. The idea remains in the expression “Lectio Dvina,” which fortunately has become a regular term among us. Now, there are different ways of reading. Usually we tend to emphasize the intellectual side of that act: we read to harvest the concepts. In this perspective, a good reader is the one that achieves a more clear and distinct scheme of “what is going on” in the text. His intention should focus in getting the structure without paying much attention to the details.
That manner of reading is necessary when you are trying to understand–yet understanding is not everything. Think of the importance of details. When staring at the faces of people we really care of, we fix our attention mainly in the details. Every time I see my mother’s face, I learn a bit more from her way of smiling. There is not much new knowledge, though. I could sum up saying: “This is Mrs. Medina smiling.” However, insofar as she is important to me, I heed every small wrinkle and gesture, for everything in her smile speaks to me.
This is what makes the “Lectio Divina” so different from any other form of reading. In doing Lectio Divina you are not pursuing the concepts; you are following your deep desire, which is not only eagerness of clarity but hunger of proximity, longing for beauty, perhaps the very need of rest.
I find the term “admiration” quite useful in speaking of this perspective. Have you noticed how much time we can spend just looking at something that really catches our attention? A very impressive building, a pretty face, a beautiful landscape are able to pull us out from ourselves in such a way that for a while we even lose the sense of time. That is a form of contemplation! If we can grow this sense of admiration towards Jesus Christ, we will be contemplative friars. Our minds will remain still and glad in the very act of enjoying how glorious He is, how much harmony flows from everything He sheds his wisdom upon, how powerful He remains in words and deeds.
There are reliable accounts that show Saint Dominic made his best in improving his own capacity of admiration towards our Lord. You remember the anecdote: In his long walks from town to town, he would remain a bit aside, in a meditative attitude. From time to time he would kindly remind his companions: “Let us think of our Saviour!” Moreover, when his body, his entire body entered into prayer, everything that was his was seeking Jesus. Dominic’s hands, well lifted as offering his soul; Dominic’s deep bowing in acknowledgment of his lowliness: all that movement mirrors the inner movement of his heart striving to express his absolute surrendering to the grace and beauty of Christ.
Here we find also the biggest difference between Christian and non-Christian contemplation. Buddhist meditation–or contemplation, for that matter–is about focusing your mind in a void. The first and foremost exercise, when it comes to contemplation, is to empty your mind up, so that nothing remains. Christian contemplation is not so. The holy Christian exercise of contemplation is the resolute commitment to surrender everything to the power, the wisdom and the highest beauty of Jesus Christ. Dominic’s mind was not empty! He was full of the knowledge of Christ. It could not be otherwise, since Dominic, as true disciple of the apostle St. Paul, was certainly able to claim: “it is no longer I that live, but Christ living in me” (Gal 2,20).
Contemplation, as an exercise of reaching the void and getting an empty mind can be fruitless. We were not saved by the Big Nothing. We were saved by our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ. In the footsteps of Dominic, we are called today to improve our admiration and thankfulness towards Jesus, so that our minds and hearts remain easily, spontaneously, continuously linked to his word, his grace and his triumph.