Saint Paul, speaking about the Jews who don’t believe in Jesus says: “Even today, whenever Moses is read, the veil is over their minds. It will not be removed until they turn to the Lord. Now this Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. And we, with our unveiled faces reflecting like mirrors the brightness of the Lord, all grow brighter and brighter as we are turned into the image that we reflect; this is the work of the Lord who is Spirit. Since we have by an act of mercy been entrusted with this work of administration, there is no weakening on our part. If our gospel does not penetrate the veil, then the veil is on those who are not on the way to salvation; the unbelievers whose minds the god of this world has blinded, to stop them seeing the light shed by the Good News of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God. For it is not ourselves that we are preaching, but Christ Jesus as the Lord, and ourselves as your servants for Jesus’ sake. It is the same God that said, ‘Let there be light shining out of darkness’, who has shone in our minds to radiate the light of the knowledge of God’s glory, the glory on the face of Christ.” (2 Corinthians 3:15-4:1,3-6)

For generations, the study of Scripture in theological faculties has rightly emphasised rigorous exegesis – the careful and methodical unpacking of the biblical text in its original languages and historical contexts. This commitment to understanding “the letter of the text” is foundational and indispensable. Yet, as many have observed since the early 1980s, and as remains a pressing concern today, there often exists a curious disconnect: a vast accumulation of textual insights from Exegesis that, for many students, struggle to translate into a profound, transformative encounter with the Word of God.

In 2 Corinthians 3:14–16, St. Paul speaks of a veil that lies over the hearts of those who read the Scriptures without turning to the Lord. This veil is not merely a historical reference to the Jewish people, but a perennial spiritual reality: a heart that remains opaque, even in the presence of divine words. Today, this same veil often lies not only over individuals but over the very methods we use to teach Scripture, especially in seminaries and theological institutions.

Modern Theological formation tends to invest heavily in exegesis and historical-critical methods. While these tools are essential for grasping the literal sense of Scripture (as affirmed by Dei Verbum, §12), they often remain disconnected from the deeper spiritual reading traditionally cultivated in the Church. Seminarians are left with a wealth of technical knowledge and scattered exegetical insights, but with little sense of how to interiorise them.

This is not a new problem. Scholars and Church leaders have identified this issue since at least the 1980s. Henri de Lubac, Jean Daniélou, and Joseph Ratzinger (Pope Benedict XVI) all warned of a growing division between theology and spirituality, between the academic study of Scripture and its ecclesial, liturgical, and transformative context. The danger is not that exegesis is wrong, but that it becomes sterile when isolated from the tradition of the Fathers and the living faith of the Church.

Theology Students are often immersed in a demanding curriculum brimming with exegetical analysis. They learn critical methodologies, historical-grammatical approaches, literary criticism, and source analysis. They gain invaluable tools for dissecting the text, identifying its nuances, and situating it within its ancient world. The intellectual rigor is commendable, and the insights gleaned are numerous.

However, the challenge arises when these scattered exegetical insights are not consistently integrated with the deeper, more holistic approach exemplified by the Church Fathers. The Fathers, while certainly attentive to the literal meaning of Scripture, consistently read the Bible through a Christological lens, seeking not just what the text said, but who it revealed and how it spoke to the life of faith and the mysteries of salvation. Their method was not merely academic; it was deeply spiritual, aiming for a personal encounter with the Divine Author.

Today, while the spiritual senses of Scripture are often acknowledged in theory, how this translates into a personal, lived experience for the seminarian remains largely unaddressed. There is no clear, integrated “method” offered to bridge the gap between rigorous academic study and profound spiritual assimilation. The seminarian, rich in factual knowledge, may still yearn for a deeper penetration of the text, for a way to “interiorise” the truths uncovered, to hear the voice of God rather than merely analyse ancient literature.

The early Church Fathers never separated the understanding of the text from the goal of encountering the Word made flesh (Jn 1:14). For them, Scripture was not a dead letter to be dissected, but a living voice to be heard in the Spirit. As Origen, Augustine, and Gregory the Great taught, the spiritual senses of Scripture (allegorical, moral, and anagogical) were not optional add-ons but essential to a full Christian reading.

Yet today, although seminarians may hear about the “spiritual senses,” they are rarely taught a method to enter into them. The result is that biblical theology becomes a kind of mental puzzle, detached from the student’s own journey of faith. The tragedy is that we no longer know how to teach people to read Scripture spiritually—as a Word addressed to them, here and now.

This isn’t a new lament. Scholars and pastoral leaders have voiced concerns about this methodological lacuna for decades. While some subtle shifts might have occurred since the early 1990s, a radical transformation in the dominant pedagogical approach to biblical studies in many seminaries remains elusive. The core problem persists: how do we facilitate a genuine encounter with the Word of God, moving beyond academic dissection to spiritual communion?

The Church today rightly distinguishes between “the Scriptures” (the inspired written texts) and “the Word of God” (the living, active Person of Christ, who speaks through those texts). The crucial question then becomes: do we truly meet the Word of God? Do we hear His voice? Do we penetrate the veil to encounter the living Christ within the written word?

This deeper penetration, this personal encounter, is precisely what the method of the Church Fathers facilitated. It wasn’t a rejection of the letter, but a movement through the letter to the spirit, to the anagogical and allegorical dimensions that revealed Christ and illuminated the path to holiness.

This is where the ancient practice of Lectio Divina emerges not merely as a devotional exercise, but as the indispensable “method” needed to bridge this gap. Lectio Divina is far more than a spiritual discipline; it is a pedagogical framework for engaging with Scripture that mirrors the holistic approach of the Fathers: it is a true experience of encountering the Word of God, the Risen Lord, listening to a Word he wants to give us today and put it into practise. Plus, it is deeply linked to the Sacramentality of the Proclamation of the Word of God during the Liturgy of the Word.

When Lectio Divina is truly integrated into biblical teaching, it provides the essential pathway:

  • It begins with the letter: Active phase: seeking understandingRead the Sacred Text in order to understand the text. The initial reading necessitates careful attention to the text, drawing upon the exegetical tools learned in the classroom.
  • It moves to personal engagement: Receptive phase, listening to the Lord: asking for the help of the Holy Spirit. Read the Sacred Text in order to discover Christ’s will: “What do you want from me today?”.
  • It culminates in encounter: Through repeated reading, praying, and asking the Lord’s help, one supernatural light appears through the text. The Holy Spirit illuminates the text, allowing the Word to speak directly to the heart, leading to a genuine meeting with Christ. This is where the veil is penetrated, where “the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life” (2 Corinthians 3:6). Continue reading until the Lord’s will becomes clear. The Lord speaks and indicates what to do, what He wants to change.
  • Realisation: Asking the Holy Spirit’s help in order to put into practice the Word. Putting it into practice.

Without such a method actively taught and practiced within the very fabric of biblical formation, theology students, despite their vast intellectual acquisitions, risk remaining at a distance from the transformative power of Scripture. They hear about the spiritual senses but may not experience them.

The core of the problem, then, is methodological. Without a holistic method that integrates exegesis with spiritual interpretation, the student cannot “penetrate the veil.” The tradition does, however, offer us such a method: Lectio Divina.

Lectio Divina is not merely a devotional practice for monks, nor is it a vague spiritual exercise. It is a structured method of encountering the Word of God in Scripture—one that unites the historical sense with the spiritual sense, and ultimately opens the heart to Christ Himself.

Pope Benedict XVI emphasised this in his 2005 address to the International Congress on Sacred Scripture in the Life of the Church: “The diligent reading of Sacred Scripture accompanied by prayer brings about that intimate dialogue in which the person reading hears God who is speaking, and in praying, responds to him with trusting openness of heart. If it is effectively promoted, this practice will bring to the Church — I am convinced of it — a new spiritual springtime.” (*Address on the 40th Anniversary of Dei Verbum, 2005)

As it is taught in the School of Mary, Lectio Divina penetrates the veil. It begins with a careful understanding of the text (lectio – Exegesis), passes through repeated readings of the text while praying and asking the Lord: “what do you want from me today (through the daily readings of the Mass)?” and leads to the grace of listening to Jesus and putting his word into practise. It is, at its core, a way of being taught by the Spirit, not merely about God, but by God Himself (cf. 1 Jn 2:27).

This method reconnects us with the Fathers of the Church, not only in theory but in practice. It fosters the personal experience of the Word of God—an experience that transforms theology from a discipline into a path of discipleship.

As we can see, exegetical knowledge and the literal sense of the text are fully sought and respected from the outset. They serve as the essential springboard through which the Holy Spirit enables us to listen to the Lord. In the authentic practice of Lectio Divina, we move from the literal meaning to a living and personal Word for today, revealed to us by the Risen Christ. It is a matter of holding both ends of the staff: on one hand, remaining faithful to the literal meaning—without distorting or bypassing it—and on the other, allowing the eyes of faith to open us to an orthodox, Spirit-led understanding and living dialogue with the Lord.

If we are to renew theology formation, we must return to this holistic method. It is not enough to affirm the value of Lectio Divina or the spiritual senses of Scripture in theory. We must teach the method, guide students through it, and model it as a living tradition.

This will not diminish the role of exegesis; on the contrary, it will give it its proper end: not merely knowledge, but communion. For the purpose of theology is not only to speak about God, but to know Him—to hear His voice and be conformed to His image.

In this light, the distinction often made in theology between Scripture and the Word of God becomes more than academic. The real question is: do we meet the living Word when we read the Scriptures? Do our methods enable the student to hear the voice of the Shepherd (Jn 10:27), or do they leave him staring at the veil?

Until we answer this question with a renewed method, the crisis in biblical formation will remain. But the good news is that the Church has already given us the path: Lectio Divina—a method both ancient and ever new.

The ultimate goal of theological education, particularly in biblical studies, should not just be to equip future ministers with knowledge about the Bible, but to immerse them in the living Word. By integrating Lectio Divina and fostering a robust, experiential approach to Scripture, we can ensure that future generations of spiritual leaders are not only adept at dissecting the text but are profoundly shaped by it, truly hearing the voice of God and guiding others to do the same. This is how we move beyond the letter, penetrate the veil, and truly meet the Word.

Joseph Ratzinger, Jesus of Nazareth (2007), Vol. 1: Introduction to Method, pp. xv–xxiv.

– Henri de Lubac, Medieval Exegesis: The Four Senses of Scripture (Eerdmans, 1998)

– Jean Daniélou, The Bible and the Liturgy (University of Notre Dame Press, 1966)