Discovering a New Way to Read the Bible
I’ve been out on a trail today and had some time to remember—with appreciation—the way I began to read the Bible in a more contemplative, more listening way after having been trained in more inductive methods.
I wrote this week about the impact inductive study of Scripture had on my life. There is no doubt it served a good purpose: it got me reading the Bible more, and when I read, I understood better what I was reading. But during a stormy period in ministry, when conflict in the church had left me exhausted and questioning my next steps, I began—almost by necessity—to read Scripture differently.
One morning I picked up the Gospel of Luke. I can’t explain why. If pressed, I’d probably say Luke picked me. Over the next few weeks, it was as if Christ Himself leapt from the pages. I knew these stories. I had studied them in Greek and preached them over and over. But suddenly they seemed different. It felt like Someone was speaking to me in these stories—and suddenly I was listening.
I don’t want to become too melodramatic, but something was happening. The Bible was moving from being a text to be analyzed to becoming something living, with a speaking voice reaching me—and I was settling not just into hearing, but expecting to hear the voice of God in these stories about Jesus.
Thomas à Kempis once wrote in The Imitation of Christ, the second best-selling book of all time behind only the Bible: “Let it be our main concern to meditate on the life of Jesus Christ. It is impossible to imitate Christ without first knowing Him, and the best way to do that is to meditate on His life as described in the four gospels.”
That’s what I was stumbling into: a way of reading that was less about information and more about formation. Spiritual formation happens when Scripture is no longer only information for the mind but nourishment for the soul. That shift—from analysis to encounter—marks the difference between using the Bible and being formed by it.
A Community That Listened
As I reflected on this shift, I realized that earlier—in my very first pastorate—God had already been preparing me for this encounter with living words. I was young then, but that little Quaker congregation was quietly planting seeds that would later blossom into what I was now experiencing in Luke.
I had entered that first pastorate ready to teach God’s Word. On my first Sunday, I had a sermon shaped by study, exegesis, and careful preparation—all the things inductive study had prepared me to do. But in that worshiping community, before the spoken sermon, there was silence—often fifteen minutes or more. To me, having never experienced this before, it felt awkward. To them, it was listening.
Eventually someone explained: “We listen for the speaking voice of God.”
Then came the gentle but firm nudge: “We appreciate how hard you work to prepare your sermons. But it would mean even more to us to know you are also listening for God’s voice and willing to share what you receive.”
This was different. I had been trained to read God’s Word and share what I had discovered—not listen for God’s speaking voice and share out of the silence. In all honesty, I didn’t fully grasp it then. But a few years later, when the story of Jesus in Luke urged me to slow down, meditate, and listen, I finally understood what they had been inviting me into: not just studying the Bible with my eyes and mind, but listening with spiritual ears and heart.
A Honeybee and the Voice of God
This was the moment when Jeanne Guyon’s use of an analogy became real to me. In her 17th-century little book, Experiencing the Depths of Jesus Christ, she compared reading Scripture to the life of a honeybee.
The bee flits from flower to flower until it finds nectar. When it does, it stops. It goes deep, drawing as much sweetness as it can, returning again and again until the nectar is gone. Only then does it move on.
That, Guyon said, is how we are to read the Bible. And this was finally how I began to read Scripture—lingering when something stirred me, going deeper instead of moving on quickly.
Previously, I could have provided a history of contemplative reading of Scripture, and I could have led a class through its steps. But in this moment, it became not just an exercise but the moment when these old words started gaining a voice in my life and soul. The power of it surprised me.
A Much Older Stream
Guyon was not inventing something new. She was standing in a much older river, making it relevant for her 17th-century community. By the sixth century, Christians across the monasteries of Europe were already practicing a way of reading Scripture that trained people to listen for the living voice of God. They called it Lectio Divina—fancy Latin words for “divine reading.”
They described it as a four-course feast: reading, meditating, praying, and resting in silence. The idea was simple but profound. Scripture was not just information to be mastered, but nourishment to be received slowly, with expectation that God Himself would feed the soul. The core belief was beautiful: the Bible is the primary book for spiritual formation, and this practice showed why.
For more than a thousand years, this way of reading Scripture flourished. Then, in the 1600s, Jeanne Guyon breathed new life into it with her honeybee image. She was saying in her own way what Christians had long practiced: that the Bible is a living book, meant to be encountered and received deeply with ears as well as eyes.
Contemplative Reading Explained
If you have exposure to contemplative reading of Scripture, you’ll recognize the rhythms that Guyon described so vividly:
Reading – Begin with expectation that God may speak through these ancient words into your life today.
Meditation – When a word or phrase stirs you, stop. Like the bee with nectar, stay there. Ask: Why this word? What invitation is hidden here?
Prayer – Let your reflections become conversation. Respond honestly to God with what is surfacing inside you.
Silence – Rest quietly, savoring what has been given. Sometimes words fade and only Presence remains.
Back in my office, finding my way slowly into this way of reading—and listening to Scripture—was like water in the desert. Scripture shifted from being a book I mastered to being a book that mastered me.
Let me be clear: this way of reading does not make obsolete or irrelevant other good ways of studying Scripture. I still use inductive study and always will. But contemplative reading slows us down so that the Spirit can take what we read with our eyes and press it into our hearts. It’s not about chasing novel revelations—it’s about allowing the living God to breathe His word into our lives until it becomes part of us.
That is the heart of spiritual formation: the Word of God reshaping us into the likeness of Christ. And in that sense, contemplative reading is not a fringe practice at all, but a deeply biblical one.
The Beauty of Simplicity
The best part? You don’t need a graduate degree or years of Bible classes to do this. Guyon wrote her “honeybee” masterpiece for those who had little or no opportunity for an education. On her first pages, she wrote these words:
“I especially address those of you who are very simple…You are the one most suited…[for this].”
We need no theological education to get the most from this method of reading Scripture. We do not need to be able to read the Bible in its original languages, or read books on Bible study methods. All that is needed is to pick up a Bible, and with a heart desperate for more, begin reading.
Practice Tool: A Honeybee Moment in Proverbs
Today, let’s practice contemplative reading with Proverbs 3:5–6:
“Trust in the Lord with all your heart,
and do not lean on your own understanding.
In all your ways acknowledge him,
and he will make straight your paths.”
Breathe. Before reading, just sit, sip your tea, and breathe. Turn off your devices. Take as long as you need to slow down the hurry and silence the noise around you—and within you.
Read slowly through Proverbs 3:5–6 several times. The goal here is not analysis but attentiveness. Allow your senses, emotions, and memories to awaken as you read.
Meditate. Pay attention to the word or phrase that caught your attention. That is the nectar. Stay with it. Let it lead you deeper. What are you receiving—a memory, a sadness, a joy, a thought?
Pray. Begin a conversation with God. Ask: “God, in your great love for me, why did you show me this?” or “What do you know about me that you wanted me to notice this?”
Sit in silence. Rest for a few moments before returning to your day. You may not receive a response right away. Keep listening. God won’t waste this moment.
A Blessing for Reading Scripture
May the Word you read today
move from page to heart,
from thought to prayer,
from silence to presence.And may Christ meet you there.
💬 A Word for the Week
If this reflection stirred something in you, would you share it with a friend so they, too, can begin to get more from scripture?
👉 Every Wednesday, I send paid subscribers a spiritual formation practice tool like today’s—a way of slowing down, listening, and making space for God. If you’d like to receive those guides, you can become a paid subscriber here.
✉️ I’d also love to hear from you: How have you read the Bible in ways that felt alive to you? What practices help you listen for the speaking voice of God?
— Gratefully,
Gene