A Three-Step Method for Meditation
Read the Word, grow roots into the Word, be re-created by the Word (1a)
I have a new definition of meditation on Scripture that I’m working with. I’d appreciate reader feedback, because I plan to use this material in future discipleship classes (and Lord willing a book one day!).
Definition: Meditation is the practice of growing roots into the Word of God so we can be re-created by it.
Step 1. Reading the Word
This step might seem obvious, but it’s worth noting, because there are two equal and opposite errors we can make when we think about reading.
On the one hand, not all “reading” is reading – it’s possible to skim our eyes over a page or screen and gain no benefit from the experience. If I can’t even remember what I’ve just “read” due to distraction or skimming, I gain nothing, and I haven’t actually read in a way that fosters meditation.
On the other hand, I don’t want to give the impression that there’s only one way to read the Bible. There are bad methods, but there are multiple good ones.
For the purposes of meditation, a good reading is one where I give my full attention to a passage or book of Scripture. That might involve:
Reading a relatively short passage with great attention to detail – see here for a method for this kind of reading.
Examples: a single psalm, an “episode” from narrative or prophecy, or one or a few paragraphs of an epistle
Reading a longer passage – multiple chapters or a whole book – to get a sense of the overall story and high-level connections
Examples: multiple chapters from a narrative or prophet; an entire epistle
Recalling a passage I’ve memorized in the past to “re-read” it mentally
Examples: a verse or a few verses
There could be more, but those are three good ways to read. The point is to read in a way you can engage your mind and see the text in a fresh way.
Step 2. Growing roots into the Word
The second step of meditation is growing the “roots” of our soul into the Word. Just as plants get more nutrition from the soil by actively growing more of themselves into it, we gain nutrition from the Scriptures by actively growing our minds into the texts we read.
Specifically, there are three roots we might grow: the root of learning, the root of loving, and the root of living. You might fear that meditation has to involve spending significant time with all of them, every time. One reason I love the metaphor of roots for meditation is that root growth can be patient and partial, because roots are relatively permanent. Once they’re in the soil, they’re in. I have four small kids and I take the morning shift with them, so quite often my “meditation time” is 10-15 minutes. I usually have to choose one or two of these lines of growth to pursue, and even then I don’t have all that much time for it. If you’re in similar circumstances, you could spend multiple days with the same text, growing a different “root” into it each time. That’s more likely to yield fruit than trying to cram all of it in at once!
The root of learning is the means by which we gather, synthesize, and store more information about what we’ve read. Our reading may lead us to questions about meaning, passages of Scripture that seem connected, or matters of theology or life that bear further research.
So we might …
Read other passages of Scripture that seem to be cross-referenced to what we’ve read, to illuminate our passage by comparison
Read the notes from a study Bible or a commentary to get a scholar’s perspective
Look up a word to see if the Greek or Hebrew definition yields more insight
Consult a theology book to see how churchmen have integrated this into what else we know about God
Write a summary of what we’ve read to see if we can put it into our own words
Choose a verse or so to memorize
Two of my favorite resources for this root are the ESV Study Bible, which I’ve used for years, and Alastair Roberts’ “Biblical Readings and Reflections” audio series, which are a set of short commentaries on I think every chapter of the Bible (explore it here).
The root of loving is the process of persuading ourselves to love what we’ve read more passionately – what past generations of Christians called stirring up the affections. This can sound strange to modern ears because we tend to talk about following our hearts instead of training our hearts, but as soon as you get behind the twentieth century, the concept is everywhere. Most people historically understood that we learn to love things, and there’s value in persuading ourselves to love what is true and good.
Here's an example from the Psalms themselves:
The law of the Lord is perfect,
reviving the soul;
the testimony of the Lord is sure,
making wise the simple;
the precepts of the Lord are right,
rejoicing the heart;
the commandment of the Lord is pure,
enlightening the eyes;
the fear of the Lord is clean,
enduring forever;
the rules of the Lord are true,
and righteous altogether.
More to be desired are they than gold,
even much fine gold;
sweeter also than honey
and drippings of the honeycomb.
Moreover, by them is your servant warned;
in keeping them there is great reward. (Psalm 19:7-11)
David meditates on the Torah – “the law of the Lord” – not just to rehearse facts about it, but to celebrate its goodness and beauty, to help him and his readers love it more.
This might look like:
Reading prayers, poems, or sermons that reflect on what I’ve read
Writing a short poem or a one-paragraph sermon on the goodness or beauty of a passage
Listening to a song about the topic
Some of my go-tos here include The Valley of Vision (a collection of Puritan prayers); George Herbert’s poems; the Ancient Christian Devotional series; and music from Indelible Grace, Paul Zach, Wendell Kimbrough, Sandra McCracken, or Bifrost Arts.
The root of living is reflecting on how what I’ve read might re-create my life. In my graphic, I made this the central root and the thickest one, because it’s the most important of the three. As the apostle James put it, “Be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves” (James 1:22).
It’s important here to look both for how I should be living – how this text should shape my life – and also how I am currently living – how my life as it is lines up against what I’ve read. I need the self-knowledge to know if or how I might need to be convicted and changed, as well as the vision to see where I might grow.
There are lots of ways to go about this as well; here are some questions from Donald Whitney’s Spiritual Disciplines for the Christian Life, with additional questions added to them:
Does this text reveal something I should believe about God? Does my life reflect that I believe this, or does it reflect a distorted belief about God?
Does this text reveal something I should praise or thank or trust God for? How present is that praise, thanks, or trust in my soul and my choices?
Does this text reveal something I should pray about for myself or others?
Does this text reveal something I should have a new attitude about? What’s my current attitude about this?
Does this text reveal something I should make a decision about? What would help me make a godly and wise decision?
Does this text reveal something I should do for the sake of Christ, others, or myself? When can I do that?
Step 3. Be re-created by the Word
The third step of meditation is to be re-created by the Word. After I’ve grown my roots into it actively, I ask the Holy Spirit to change me through it and make me more into the person I should become.
This might be as simple as just having a fresh experience of God through the Spirit. Just like a date is a chance to have a fresh experience of my wife that deepens our love, I might simply enjoy God’s presence and come away refreshed.
Being re-created might also look like being sustained by a truth or a promise from Scripture. I went through a health crisis that left me incredibly weak a few months ago; I was sustained through it by reminders of God’s strength and the goodness of his providence. He didn’t heal me all at once; but he helped me and my family carry through.
Being re-created might also look more drastic. God might convict me of a sin or idol that needs to be starved out of my life, starting me on a path of confession and repentance. He might show me a habit or virtue that needs to displace worthless junk filling my mind or my schedule. Those kinds of re-creation are more painful, but just as necessary as the others. I’ll close with some words from C. S. Lewis that always encourage me through a time of painful re-creation:
Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on; you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But presently He starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make any sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of - throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were being made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself.1
From Mere Christianity.