The Art of VISIO DIVINA
Visio Divina from Latin is translated as “divine seeing”. It's related to the prayer form Lectio Divina (divine reading) that Saint Ignatius of Loyola modeled. Instead of Scripture, this form of prayer uses visual elements to help set your mind on prayer. It allows God to speak into our hearts through images some with all our senses.
The Art of Visio Divina is the exercise of using our imagination to create art that guides us to discern and see God through daily scripture as part of the creative process of life. It fills our souls with the love of Jesus as His close friend and personal disciple. It is art inspired by God.
Here are five steps ending with the action of creating your own piece of art.
Lectio 365
"A modern-day app for 15th-century exercise”. The spiritual exercises that Ignatius developed centuries ago have stood the test of time. Download the Lectio 365 app on your phone and practice daily and be a co-creator of the love Jesus offers everyone.
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Inspired by:
The Gospel According to Matthew 9:9-13
When Jesus saw Matthew, sitting at his customs table, Jesus must have seen how the people despised this tax collector. Jesus had to sense that this kind of resentment and rejection did things to a tax collector. He had to immediately feel compassion for Matthew and what it had done to him. Had it made him defensive and thick-skinned? Had he become gruff and insensitive to others? Did he bark and push others away?
I imagine that the first thing Matthew noticed was how Jesus was looking at him. Could it have been that the first experience Matthew had of Jesus was that Jesus was simply looking at him in a way no one had ever looked at him? When their eyes met, Matthew must have seen love and compassion, not blame and judgment. Jesus did not look at him with hate and contempt. Jesus simply looked at him with care.
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As I picture the scene, Matthew immediately sensed that Jesus somehow understood the predicament he was in. He got himself into this and he'd not been an attractive character at all. He played the role people had put him in. But Jesus didn't fix him in that role somehow. Before he uttered a word, Jesus' eyes must have said to Matthew, "I know this isn't you. I understand how much playing this role is distorting you, souring you, hardening you." It was as though Jesus' face and the sadness were revealed, reflecting the sadness in Matthew's heart.
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"Follow me." The words must have made their way straight to Matthew's heart. Never had his heart been so opened by such understanding, compassion, and loving acceptance. For a moment, he must have thought, "Me? I'm just a ... I can't change ... I'm stuck here ... And, what'll they say about ..." But those protests surely were replaced with something responding from deep inside that welcomed this call, this liberation, this vote of confidence more than anything in the world. Without a word, with their eyes still locked in that communication of intimacy, Matthew's heart said, "Yes! Amen! I'm yours!" Nothing else had a hold on him. There were no excuses, doubts, or fears. Matthew had been healed as he had been called. His yes was his surrender to being loved.
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Can we look up from our custom table today and see Jesus looking at us with compassion and love? He knows and understands whatever has us locked into roles, images, and patterns that aren't very attractive and that we don't really like about ourselves. Can we let ourselves experience and feel his love?