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Chapter 2

Hearing God in Scripture

Fr. Erik Arnold

When I was a kid, we had a great big leather-bound family Bible on a bookshelf in our living room. It was so big you could hardly miss it—but we seldom took it down and opened it. Our family wasn’t that different from many other Catholic families. We were told that the Bible was important, but it really wasn’t part of our lives. The Bible was there, but it stayed on the shelf.

This chapter is about taking the Bible off the shelf and making it part of your life. Scripture is the Word of God. It has real power. It can bring us freedom and joy and wisdom. God reveals Himself through the words of Scripture, and by reading the Bible prayerfully we can hear God speak directly to us. It’s no wonder reading Scripture is a central part of personal prayer.

God’s Love Letter

The Bible is entirely unique. It looks like other books—words printed on paper, bound in leather or paper-covered boards, sold in stores or online. But the Bible is a book apart. The other books in the religion section of the bookstore contain other people’s ideas about God. The Bible is God’s own Word spoken about Himself. The Holy Spirit inspired the human authors of the Bible to write what God wanted to communicate. It’s a priceless gift to us, given out of love. This is what the Catechism has to say about it:

In Sacred Scripture, the Church constantly finds her nourishment and her strength, for she welcomes it not as a human word, but as what it really is: the word of God. In the sacred books, the Father who is in heaven comes lovingly to meet his children, and talks with them. (CCC 104)

This is the wonder and beauty of Scripture: it flows from the Father’s deep desire to open His heart to us so that we can know Him. Scripture flows from God’s love. It’s one of the greatest of gifts that the Father showers on us. It’s no exaggeration to say that Scripture is God’s love letter to us.

Because Scripture is God’s Word to us, it is alive with the power of God. No human words have the power that Scripture has. Think about a time that words have moved you: maybe it was a novel you read as a child, a letter from someone you love, a play that you saw on stage. These words are human expressions of love or grief or joy. But the words of Scripture carry the power of God Himself.

The word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and spirit, of joints and marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart. (Heb 4:12)

These are not generic words. They are personal—aimed at you, at me, and at every person who reads them. They are truly personal. In Scripture you can hear God’s Word for you. You can read a passage and hear what God wants you to hear at that moment. Your spouse or your best friend can read the same verse and hear what they need to hear. That’s the power of the Word of God.

When we read Scripture, we take our place in the crowd that Luke describes: “While the people pressed upon him to hear the word of God, [Jesus] was standing by the lake of Gennesaret” (Lk 5:1). The people didn’t come to Jesus to hear generic, abstract truths. Each of them came to hear Jesus talk to them personally. They recognized that Jesus had something to say to them. We read Scripture for the same reason: God has something to say to me, something that I need to hear right now, something for me personally, in the circumstances I’m in, with the needs that I have, the challenges I face, the opportunities I have. There are things that need to be removed from my life. Other things need to be added. We need strength and encouragement. Our eyes need to be opened to see where God is at work. The Lord will talk to us about these things as we read Scripture.

God’s Word has Power

Let me share with you a couple of examples. One of my favorite stories about the power of God’s Word comes from the life of St. Augustine, one of the greatest of the early Fathers of the Church.

You’re probably familiar with the basic story of Augustine’s life. He was a brilliant young man who restlessly searched for love and truth as he made a name for himself as a teacher and writer in the Roman Empire. His mother, Monica, was a fervent Christian, but he resisted her attempts to bring him to faith in Christ. For years he carried on a personal and intellectual struggle. Finally, Augustine became convinced of the truth of the Gospel. He knew that he should accept baptism and become a Christian, but he hesitated at the brink of conversion, embroiled in a spiritual struggle with the sins he knew he had to leave behind:

I was held back by mere trifles, the most paltry inanities, all my old attachments. They plucked at my garment of flesh and whispered, “Are you going to dismiss us? From this moment we shall never be with you again, for ever and ever. From this moment you will never again be allowed to do this thing or that, for evermore.”

They no longer barred my way, blatantly contradictory, but their mutterings seemed to reach me from behind, as though they were stealthily plucking at my back, trying to make me turn my head when I wanted to go forward. Yet, in my state of indecision, they kept me from tearing myself away, from shaking myself free of them and leaping across the barrier to the other side, where you were calling me. Habit was too strong for me when it asked, “Do you think you can live without these things?” (Confessions VIII, 11)

In spiritual agony, Augustine cried out to the Lord. How long? How long is it to be? He describes what happened next:

As I was saying this and weeping in the bitter agony of my heart, suddenly I heard a voice from a nearby house chanting as if it might be a boy or a girl … saying and repeating over and over again, “Pick up and read, pick up and read.” At once my countenance changed, and I began to think intently whether there might be some sort of children’s game in which such a chant was used. But I could not remember having heard of one…. I interpreted it solely as a divine command to open the book [a copy of the letters of St. Paul] and read the first chapter I might find. (Confessions VIII, 12)

His eyes landed on a passage from Romans:

Let us conduct ourselves becomingly as in the day, not in reveling and drunkenness, not in debauchery and licentiousness, not in quarreling and jealousy. But put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires. (Rom 13:13–14)

The passage told Augustine something that he had known for some time—that he needed to leave the old life behind and accept the new life of Christ in baptism. But now the conviction moved from his head to his heart. In a flash, he received the power he needed to act on what he knew to be true. Augustine was soon baptized and became a Christian. Where did Augustine find the power to overcome the fears and doubts that had plagued him for so long? Not from himself. The power came from the Word of God in Scripture.

Here we discover one of the most important differences between God’s Word and mere human words: God’s Word contains in itself the power to accomplish the very things it declares. Unlike the latest self-help book, which may have good advice for my life but leaves me to do the work, God’s Word is able to make happen exactly what it proclaims. This opens up for us a whole new way of reading Scripture—a way in which we expect God’s Word to accomplish in us the very thing we are reading!

God’s Word Gives Direction

Because Scripture is alive in this way, it can also point us in the right direction. It can help us answer the questions we have. It can tell us things we need to know. This happened to me at a crisis point in my own life.

It happened about half way through my first year in diocesan seminary. At that time, many seminaries had not experienced the spiritual reform that has since taken place. I had entered seminary after a careful discernment process, and I was as sure as I could be that God was calling me to be a diocesan priest. But as the year went on, the various struggles in the seminary left me restless and unsettled. I wasn’t sure I was in the right place. I thought I should be a priest, but perhaps I should join a religious order instead of becoming a diocesan priest. The struggle was so intense that I even began visiting different religious orders.

At some point in the midst all of this it dawned on me that I couldn’t make the decision on my own. Even though I was tempted to pack up my room and leave, I was drawn instead to make a special novena asking the Lord to guide me in the direction I should go. At the end of the nine days, I had a strong sense that the Lord wanted me to look into Scripture for some wisdom about my problem. I was led to a beautiful passage from Isaiah:

By waiting and by calm you shall be saved,

in quiet and in trust shall be your strength.

But this you did not will.

“No,” you said,

“Upon horses we will flee.”

Very well, you shall flee!

“Upon swift steeds we will ride.”

Very well, swift shall be your pursuers!

(Is 30:15–16, NABRE)

These words spoke to me immediately. The Lord was telling me to wait, to trust Him and be calm, not to rush into the wrong decision: “in quiet and in trust shall be your strength.” But He also convicted me when, in the same passage, He said: “But this you did not will.” He was right. I was ready to leave, to flee, not to wait and be calm. I understood very clearly that the Lord was telling me not to make any decision about my future now, but to wait trustingly.

So I waited. And about two months later, out of the blue, the Director of Vocations for the Archdiocese called to tell me that the Archbishop wanted to send me to a different seminary to complete my formation. I was shocked and surprised, but I saw this clearly as God’s hand at work, so I accepted the transfer. The five years of seminary that followed my transfer were among the most blessed of my life and culminated in my ordination as a priest for the Archdiocese of Baltimore, which is exactly where the Lord wanted me.

See what I mean when I say that Scripture is alive with the power of God? God was waiting for me when I opened the Bible to Isaiah, chapter 30. It was His will that I stay on the path I was on and eventually serve as a parish priest. At that time of crisis He was waiting to give me direction about an important decision, but He’s always waiting for me when I open the Scriptures. He’s waiting for you too.

God’s Word Spoken at Mass

There are many ways to make Scripture part of your life. The most important way—one sometimes overlooked—is the proclamation of the Word of God at Mass. Christ comes to us in two ways at Mass: in Scripture (the Liturgy of the Word) and in His Body and Blood (the Liturgy of the Eucharist). The culmination of the Liturgy of the Word at every Mass is the proclamation of the Gospel, the very words and deeds of Christ Himself. This is preceded by a reading from the Old Testament, which tells us of God’s promises and preparation of His people for the coming of His Son, and by a responsorial psalm. This is followed by a reading from the letters of St. Paul, the Acts of the Apostles, and other pastoral letters proclaiming the message of Christ to the early Christian community.

As we said earlier, God’s Word has unique power to do the very thing it proclaims. This is especially true in the celebration of the Mass. Our bishops put it this way:

The Word of God proclaimed in the Liturgy possesses a special sacramental power to bring about in us what it proclaims. The Word of God proclaimed at Mass is “efficacious,” that is, it not only tells us of God and God’s will for us, it also helps us to put that will of God into practice in our own lives.*

Think about that for a moment. At Mass, Scripture does what it’s describing. The Old Testament reading is preparing us to receive Christ. The reading from St. Paul, Acts, or another pastoral letter is proclaiming the message to us personally. The Gospel reading is bringing salvation and healing to us as it tells of the words and deeds of Christ.

So, imagine you are at Mass and the Gospel reading is the parable of the prodigal son (Lk 15:11–32). In the very act of hearing that beautiful Gospel, which describes the merciful heart of our heavenly Father, that very mercy is being poured out on you and made real for you. You are not just hearing about God’s mercy, you are actually receiving it as it’s being proclaimed!

It makes sense then to pay especially close attention to the Scripture readings at Mass, expecting the power of God’s Word to be at work. A good practice is to read these passages ahead of time in order to prepare your heart. Good commentaries can also be helpful in preparing our hearts. The monthly magazine The Word Among Us provides the daily and Sunday Scripture readings with powerful and practical commentaries. You can also get the day’s reading by email every morning from the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops by signing up at www.usccb.org/bible/readings/.

God’s Word in your Life

To make Scripture a part of your daily prayer, it’s important to work from a good readable translation of the Bible. There are dozens of English translations and hundreds of editions available, ranging from thick scholarly commentaries to small editions of the Gospels that you can slip into the pocket of your jeans. For personal prayer, the two most common translations for Catholics are the New American Bible (which is the translation used at Mass) and the Catholic edition of the Revised Standard Version. Study and application editions are available for both of these that offer footnotes and sidebars that help explain the text.

If you aren’t in the habit of reading Scripture regularly, it might be helpful to start with the daily Mass readings or praying through one of the Gospels. Read for five or ten minutes a day, then more as time permits and the Holy Spirit leads. Focus on Jesus, and as you’re reading, ask: What does He do? What does He say? What kind of a man is He? Be alert to what God is saying to you through the words of Scripture. You’re not reading the Bible in order to get information into your head. You’re reading in order to encounter God personally. What is the living Word of God in Scripture saying to your heart?

A method that helps us read Scripture with our hearts is an ancient practice called Lectio Divina (Latin for “Divine Reading”). This is slow, meditative reading of a single passage several times for the purpose of discerning its inner meaning for us personally. The four traditional steps of Lectio are reading, meditation, prayer, and contemplation. The text is first read for meaning. This leads to meditation, where we seek to hear God’s voice in the passage. Then comes prayer, our intimate conversation with God. Finally, the text takes us into contemplation. “Words in this kind of prayer are not speeches; they are like kindling that feeds the fire of love” (CCC 2717).

There are many variations to Lectio Divina. Often, the four traditional steps blend into one process of ever-deepening understanding and prayer.

Following the example of the saints, one of the most powerful ways to read Scripture is to use our imagination to construct the entire scene, allowing the Holy Spirit to bring it to life in our hearts and minds. As an example, suppose you are reading the account of the healing of the blind man Bartimaeus (Mk 10:46–52). Place yourself in the scene. You are a bystander in the crowd watching these amazing events take place. You’re sweating in the hot sun. You smell the dust kicked up in the road. You’re jostled by other people in the crowd as everybody strains to see what’s going on. You hear Bartimaeus cry out to Jesus, and you hear the people in the crowd trying to shut him up. Then you keenly watch what Jesus does. You notice His tone of voice, His body language, His gestures as He asks the blind man, “What do you want me to do for you?” And you imagine Jesus asking you the same question, “What do you want me to do for you?” In that moment, as you respond, your prayer shifts to a deeply personal place in your own heart as you share with Jesus what you most hope and long for Him to do for you.