Leaving Beyond – Grounded In Scripture

Written by: April J. Buchanan

As I often read from those “old dead guys,” or better put, those faithful saints who have died in the faith, whose writings God has preserved for the encouragement of His people, I frequently come across a strong emphasis and instruction: not merely to read, nor even to read much, but to meditate much. Those who benefit most from reading are those who dwell upon what they have read, allowing such meditations to abide in the mind, instruct the life, and lead to actions and obedience to God that are first wrought in the heart.

Their concern is not necessarily that one reads much, but whether what is read profits the soul. To boast of much reading while showing no benefit from it in one’s life demonstrates that it has never truly worked in the heart and mind, but has merely passed through, leaving the soul unchanged. This counsel, I find to be of great benefit.

I think also of the words and examples of faithful saints who have both practiced and commended this principle. Susannah Spurgeon would take a single verse and turn it over throughout the day, letting it abide in the mind in sustained meditation. I think of Thomas Brooks, who urges the reader to meditate much upon what he reads, so that the actions which follow are shaped by a mind and heart formed by truth. I think even of the careful discipline of study among faithful pastors such as John MacArthur, where even the simple act of pausing, leaning back in the chair, becomes part of a deliberate labor of understanding, giving space for the text to be rightly considered before God.

There are many faithful saints who have both practiced and commended this principle: meditate upon the truth. Let it settle. Let it turn over within the mind. Pray to God for understanding. Sit under the text, and give the soul space to be taught.

Pride leaves little room for such meditation, for it already knows what it intends to say and is unwilling to be changed or counseled otherwise. But the one who lingers under the Word and rises with its work upon the heart, having turned it over in the mind and sought understanding in prayer, is the one most prepared to be changed by it and to be truly profited.

For I love to read, and I love to read much. I enjoy keeping track of my reading. I enjoy setting reading goals. And I do not only read what benefits the soul, but where some might entertain themselves with television or other mindless amusements, I often do so with a book. I read more of these kinds of reading for passing enjoyment, as they are easy to travel through, visit for a time, and then move on to the next. Yet those books that do a greater work upon my soul, I am learning to visit fewer of each passing year. And when I do read more of them each year, I sometimes fear that I have allowed a reading goal to hinder a better work in my own heart.

I write. Why do I write so much as I read such books? As I do in all things, I suppose. I do not always write knowing the subject upon which I desire to write. More often than not, I sit before a blank screen with no idea what I shall write. I only know that I must. Therefore, I write.

And as I do, I often find that which I have meditated upon comes out in my writing. It reveals my own heart. My own meditations. My writing often has a way of exposing what has occupied my mind. What then have I meditated upon? What then have I scrolled upon that has struck my heart and poured out through my pen?

As one who loves to read and write, my pen does not much rest, nor does my mind. I meditate much. Oh, that I should be far more careful concerning that upon which I meditate.