No, this isn’t about the ghosts and demons that show up in Scripture. And it’s not about the giant family Bible that sat on the coffee table at my grandparents’ house. The one that I was certain had some mystical/magical properties. I can still see that Bible; even now there is something grave about it in my mind. This is something a bit more ordinary, but disturbing all the same.
Like all good ghost stories, the origin tale is now a vague mystery. And like many good ghost stories it starts with a ritual gone wrong.
I don’t remember learning the ritual, but I knew it just the same, just as I knew that following the ritual initiated me into the ranks of growing Christians. Following the ritual kept you there. While the ritual was performed in private, it was not a secret. Its performance was expected and there was accountability. Friends and leaders would ask about your ritual. Even if no one asked, a rarity, the expectation that the ritual was being routinely performed hung like a guillotine blade over head.
Forgetting or ignoring the ritual was a secret kept with the deepest gravity. If the rest of the ranks found out you were neglecting, swift and certain chastisement was given with a single phrase, “I’ll pray for you.” The swing of that sword so devastating that lies became a ready shield.
The ritual had specific and distinct ingredients. Order and proportion were paramount to success:
- Set aside time – preferably first thing in the morning. Get up early if you can, earlier than normal, pushing the rest of your day back didn’t work. Devotions had to be deliberate and had to be a sacrifice. “Fitting them in” when you had time was evidence of a lack of commitment and proper discipline. Set aside a specific amount of time to complete this ritual.
- Pray first – Blessing for the time spent and to be open and teachable.
- Read a set amount of Scripture – This could either be in number of chapters or in amount of time. This had to be uniform—the same amount every day.
- Spend time prayer – This had it’s own ingredients. You couldn’t simply talk to God. You must spend time in praise and worship, then confess your sins so that there would be nothing to keep God from hearing your prayers (never quite understood why that was second, did God ever hear my praises? Ah well). Next was being thankful for all the many things that have been a blessing in your life, not the least of which was something, or a great many things, from your reading that morning. Finally, you could present your requests to God, the things that have been weighing on your heart and mind put having been put into proper perspective by what has preceded them in your praying.
- Memorize – Having spent due time in reading and in prayer, memorizing passages of Scripture was key to keeping your mind fixed on Jesus throughout the day. Choose passages that are particularly encouraging or, better still, passages that will aid you in sharing the gospel. Five from Romans should do the job nicely.
- Meditate – the Ritual formally complete with step five, this infused you with the power of the ritual throughout the day, until it was again time to perform it. Deliberately focus your thoughts on the passages read that morning, and only on those passages, for long periods of time several times throughout the day. Let the words of the verses be your focus and all else the distraction.
For years I performed this ritual with varying degrees of exactness. However, this always remained the ritual (in case you are wondering, yes, this is the formula for a successful quiet time). And I was pretty good at it, with the exception of number 6. I never did get the hang of meditating on Scripture.
I’ve left that secret society. No, not Christianity. My faith is stronger than it’s ever been. I left that formula, that ritual behind. My views have grown since those days, although I still feel the allure of the ritual. It offers a sense of completion, of satisfaction that nothing has been missed. The ritual calls me; it wants me back.
There’s a reason this ritual developed. The individual movements are precious ingredients. Bible reading, prayer, memorization, meditation, concerted deliberate effort, each of these have their place. But, for me, what was intended to be wind in the sales of my relationship with God became an anchor; its exercise was more to avoid guilt than harden spiritual muscle.
Now my quiet times vary. They are more of an expression of my relationship with God, are my relationship with God. They aren’t always at the same time or for the same amount of time. Rather I find myself, at different times of the day, wanting to spend time praying or reading the Bible. Memorization now comes from familiarity, like the knowledge of an old friend. There is joy in my acts of devotion, nothing rote.
Meditation still eludes me. I can’t seem to focus on Scripture throughout the day. So I’ve given up on it. But I’m seeing its ghost. The ritual did have one enduring effect. All that formula, all that practice, all those rules did put Scripture, in my head, and now the Spirit is using it to transform my heart.
You see, while I cannot deliberately focus on Scripture, it has a way of casting its shadow over my thoughts. Instead of me concentrating on the Bible, Scripture seems to force itself on my thoughts. My actions, words, or thoughts summon to mind a verse or a phrase or even an idea from the Bible. Once there, it torments me.
Scripture haunts me. Sometimes to address my sin, sometimes to wrestle with an image of God that needs to be corrected, transformed, enlarged. But it does not give me leave to think about other things until I have faced and wrestled with the ghost of whatever verse has come to mind—submission to the Holy Spirit the only way to exorcize my thoughts.
Meditation may be important. Maybe someday I’ll master it. Until then, I deal with the ghosts of Scripture that keep haunting me.
