A few weeks ago, I started experimenting with Lectio Divina. I have been trying to find a personal spiritual practice for some time, and now that I’m working two Sundays a month (and am therefore unable to go to church regularly), this seemed like a particularly good time to try.
Last night, as I was finishing dinner and preparing for prayer, I found myself reading an article about the awful news coming out of Haiti. Like with so many global disasters, I have been surprised by how many people I know have lived in Haiti, have friends or family there, or have done work there. Sometimes, it takes a disaster to realize how interconnected we all are, and how small the world is becoming.
At the same time, this has been a reminder of how incredibly privileged I am to have a life where that sort of suffering seems so incredibly distant and unreal. When I was a child, I experienced the death of a close friend. I remember driving with my father moments after he had told me about my friend’s death. I looked out the car window and saw people walking their dogs, talking, laughing and enjoying the beautiful weather. “How strange,” I remember thinking “that they could be so unaware that the whole world has changed.” As I’ve enjoy a relaxing week at work, vegan mac & cheese and DC’s unseasonably warm weather, I feel very much like those people walking their dogs.
It was these thoughts that ran through my head last night as I opened my Bible to begin Lectio Divina. I have been slowly making my way through the Book of Wisdom and it just so happened that on that day, I was going to start Chapter 3:
But the souls of the just are in the hand of God, and no torment shall touch them.
They seemed, in the view of the foolish, to be dead; and their passing away was thought an affliction
and their going forth from us, utter destruction. But they are in peace. (Wisdom 3:1-3)