Advent Midweek II:
Three Things That Make a Theologian: Meditatio[1]
December 7, 2022
Text: Psalm 119:97-104, 129-133
The
English theologian, Thomas Cranmer (who, early on in the Reformation, was
sympathetic to Lutheranism, by the way), gave us this beautiful collect, known
and loved by so many: “Blessed Lord, You have caused
all Holy Scriptures to be written for our learning. Grant that we may so hear them, read, mark,
learn, and inwardly digest them that, by patience and comfort of Your holy
word, we may embrace and ever hold fast the blessed hope of everlasting life;
through Jesus Christ, our Lord” (LSB p. 308).
Luther
said that there are three things that make a theologian: Oratio (prayer),
Meditatio (meditation on God’s Word), and Tentatio (trial or
suffering). Tonight, we take up meditation,
and it doesn’t surprise us that meditation on God’s Word is the primary element
for the making of a theologian, which is to say, a Christian concerned with the
things of God. But what is meditation? Or, specifically, what is Christian
meditation? I can think of no better
description of it than that of Cranmer’s prayer. It is to hear Holy Scripture, publicly
read and preached. It is to read
the Holy Scriptures in the home, and wherever else you may be, in your personal
and family devotions. It is to mark
the Holy Scriptures… Now, this may mean
highlighting, underlining, and taking notes.
Luther and the Reformers were part of a long tradition of writing what
are called glosses, notes for study and edification, in the margins of
their Bibles. Their glosses were
published, and study Bibles like The Lutheran Study Bible are the heirs
of that great tradition. But really, so
are you if you’ve ever written a note on the page next to a verse, or simply
read the notes in your study Bible. This
is really the purpose of Bible Study, where, at the very least, hopefully, you
are taking mental notes about the meaning and application of the text, marking
the Scriptures mentally. And see, this
helps us to do what Cranmer prays for next: That we would learn the
Scriptures… learn what they mean, yes, but also learn them, as in
memorize them, so that we don’t just have them on a page, which can be
torn away from us at any point, but in our minds, and in our hearts, and
written on our very souls.
And
then, inwardly digest them. It
was fashionable in the latter part of the 20th Century to rob
beautiful liturgical phrases of their poetry, and so, in our 80s hymnal,
“inwardly digest them” was replaced by “take them to heart.” It’s alright, I suppose, in that it gives us
a basic meaning of the phrase. We should
take the Scriptures to heart. And we
actually have both versions of the prayer in our current hymnal, because we
couldn’t make up our minds, I guess. But
I like “inwardly digest.” It’s poetic,
but it’s very earthy, and it is perhaps the very best description of
meditation. Like a cow, we gobble up a
mouthful of Holy Scripture, and we chew on it.
Unlike a cow, and more like a wine taster, we consider the various
nuances of flavor and texture, the aromatic notes and allusions to other things
not explicitly present in the text. And
then, back to being like a cow, we swallow, and after a bit we burp it back
up into our mouths and chew on it some more, and back down it goes,
through four different stomachs, to get every possible nutrient out of the
meal, and then the intestines, for more digestion. A cow’s digestive system is called
“ruminant.” So we ruminate on the
Holy Scriptures. Which is to say, we
meditate. Meditatio.
Notice
how very different all of this is from the world’s definition of meditation. The world thinks of meditation as something
akin to Eastern mysticism (Buddhism, Hinduism, and the like), or New Age
spirituality. In this kind of
meditation, you are told to empty your mind, like you’re cleansing it
from all the distractions and clutter, so that you can be spiritually
receptive. Frankly, beloved, if you do
this, you’re playing with fire. You
don’t understand what you’re dealing with.
There is no such thing as spiritually neutral ground. If nature abhors a vacuum, which is to
say, if a void will always be filled (and that is why your Hoover works
they way it does), the same is true of the unseen spiritual world. Where there is a void, spirits will fill
it. Jesus taught us about unclean
spirits being cast out of a person (which is what happens to you in Baptism,
and every time you return to your Baptism), only to come back and find the
house swept and in order, but essentially empty, because the person hasn’t
filled the space with God’s Word and the Holy Spirit. So the unclean spirit goes and brings back
seven spirits more evil than itself to dwell there, and the last state of the
person is worse than the first (Luke 11:24-26).
Beloved, you’ve been freed from the tyranny of demons and unclean
spirits. Don’t empty your mind in
dubious spiritual rites, only to let the malicious spirits back in. Fill your mind with Holy Scripture. Fill your mind with the things of God. And for the love of all that is holy…
and I mean that quite literally… don’t endlessly repeat some mindless
mantra. Repeat God’s Word. Take a Scripture passage and chew on it. Think about it. Examine it.
Memorize it. Ruminate. This closes off your receptivity to unclean
spirits, and opens you up to receive the Holy Spirit and all of His gifts.
You
can never have too much of God’s holy Word.
In his Preface to the Large Catechism, Luther is very frustrated
with pastors, nobles, and other Christians who don’t think they need the
Catechism anymore, because they’ve already heard it once, and they know
perfectly well what it means. (How many
times have I heard that in Bible class?
“I’ve heard all this before, Pastor.
I already know all this.”) Well,
Luther says, fine, maybe they are such great, learned theologians. “But for myself I say this: I am also a
doctor and preacher; yes, as learned and experienced as all the people who have
such assumptions and contentment. Yet I
act as a child who is being taught the catechism. Every morning – and whenever I have time -- I
read and say, word for word, the Ten Commandments, the Creed, the Lord’s
Prayer, the Psalms, and such. I must
still read and study them daily. Yet I
cannot master the catechism as I wish.
But I must remain a child and pupil of the catechism, and am glad to
remain so. Yet these delicate, refined
fellows would in one reading promptly become doctors above all doctors, know
everything, and need nothing.”[2] But, Luther says, we have to understand that,
even if we knew the Catechism and the Scriptures perfectly (which,
however, is impossible in this life), nevertheless, “the Holy Spirit is present
in such reading, repetition, and meditation.
He bestows ever new and more light and devoutness”… besides which, such
study “is a most effective help against the devil, the world, the flesh, and
all evil thoughts… Certainly you will not release a stronger incense or other
repellant against the devil than to be engaged by God’s commandments and words,
and speak, sing, or think them.”[3] Luther is just echoing God’s command to Moses
and the people of Israel in our Old Testament reading (Deut. 6:4-9), that they
should always have the Word of God before their eyes and in their
mouths and upon their heart; that they should teach God’s Word to
their children; and speak of it both when they are at rest, and when they are
going about their daily employ; when they lay down for bed at night, and when
the arise again in the morning. Ever and
always, God’s Word takes first place.
As
in good soil, when you meditate on God’s Word, it takes deep root in your mind,
your heart, your very soul. And then it
grows and bears fruit, some a hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty (Matt.
13:8). “He who has ears,” Jesus
says, “let him hear” (v. 9; ESV), which is to say, let him
meditate. Meditatio.
“How
sweet are your words to my taste, sweeter than honey to my mouth” (Ps.
119:103). At this very moment, as you
listen to this sermon, you are meditating.
You are ruminating. God’s Word is
filling your ears, your mind, your heart and soul, and… your mouth… so that you
can say back to God, and to others in confession, what God here says to
you. What is happening as you meditate? Well, as Luther says, here the Spirit is
present, as He always and ever is in God’s Word. And He never comes empty-handed. He is giving you His gifts. He is giving you ears to hear. He is giving you faith in Jesus Christ,
your Savior, who Himself comes to you in His Word. He is forgiving your sins for the sake
of Christ, who died for you, and who is risen and lives for you. He is restoring you to the Father, and
giving you life. By the Word, the
Spirit is molding and shaping you, as He did Adam of old, into
the very image of God, the image of Jesus. And then He is breathing into you the
breath of life. That is what the
Word of God is, the life-breath of God.
And it is also a poisonous fumigation against the devil.
Needless
to say, since this is all true, the take-home point is that you should engage
God’s Word as often as possible. Be in
Church as often as possible. Go to Bible
Study and Sunday School as often as possible.
Read God’s Word at home as often as possible. Memorize it.
Think about it. Pray it. But this being an evening service, I want to apply
this to a very particular circumstance: When you can’t sleep because the
devil is parading all your worries and sorrows and afflictions and fears
through your mind, take up a Word from God. Call it up from your memory, if you’ve done
the necessary work of memorizing. Or,
turn on a light for a minute, and find a passage that brings you comfort. And set your mind on it. Ruminate. Meditate. And sooner or later, you will fall asleep in
the peace of God who loves you and protects you, and will never abandon or
forsake you. And, of course, what you do
at night, you can also do in the light of day, always, and whenever you need
comfort in Christ. And now we are at the
doorstep of tentatio, which we’ll talk about more next week.
For
now, let’s close this meditation where we began, with Cranmer’s
beautiful prayer: “Blessed Lord, You have caused all Holy Scriptures to be
written for our learning. Grant that we
may so hear them, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest them that, by patience
and comfort of Your holy word, we may embrace and ever hold fast the blessed
hope of everlasting life; through Jesus Christ, Your Son, our Lord, who lives
and reigns with You and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.” Amen.
[1] The theme and many of the ideas in
this sermon come from John T. Pless, “Midweek Advent Series: Oratio,
Meditatio, Tentatio," in Pastor Craft (Irvine, CA: New
Reformation, 2020) pp. 139-147.
[2] Luther’s Large Catechism (St. Louis: Concordia, 2010) p. 8.
[3] Ibid, p. 9.
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