In Numbers 24:16, Balaam declares, “Oracle of the one who hears the words of God, who possesses the knowledge of the Most High. He sees what the Almighty reveals.” This verse captures the heart of true theology: knowledge of God is not first an intellectual exercise, but a gift arising from listening, receiving, putting into practise and seeing. The “knowledge of the Most High” is an experience of the divine, intimately connected with the Word, rather than a purely abstract or speculative understanding. Human intelligence participates in this process, but it does so as the instrument of reception, guided and illuminated by the Holy Spirit. The Word becomes knowledge and transformation only when it is heard, meditated upon, and lived.

To listen to God’s Word each day and put it into practice, experiencing its truth and transformative power, is to be taught the wisdom and knowledge of Christ—his mind and way of seeing the world—so that, as Saint Paul affirms in 1 Corinthians 2:16, ‘we have the mind of Christ.’

Lectio Divina, in its biblical and patristic understanding, embodies this dynamic. Its essential features are twofold: the attentive hearing of the Word as it speaks today, and the immediate implementation of that Word in life. Intelligence is fully engaged: the mind discerns, meditates, and with the help of the Holy Spirit penetrates the meaning of Scripture, but always within the framework of living reception.Once the Word is put into practice, a new knowledge is born, arising from the transformation of the mind and will that results from this living application. Reflection, reasoning, or doctrinal formulation follow, but only as fruit of this lived encounter. As Origen observes, “He who listens faithfully to the Word receives truly the light of God,” and Cyril of Jerusalem affirms, “He who meditates upon the Word of God with a pure heart is initiated into the very mysteries of God.”

The Fathers of the Church exemplified this approach. Figures such as Origen, Gregory of Nyssa, and Cyril of Jerusalem centred their spiritual practice and teaching on the attentive hearing of the Word, the engagement of the mind, and the transformation of the soul. In contrast, the Desert Fathers practiced meditation and rumination on Scripture, but without presenting explicitly the particular method and dynamism of the Gospel: hearing and immediate practice.

St. John Cassian, while gathering and transmitting the wisdom of the Egyptian monks, did not offer in his books a method of Lectio Divina. He addressed other aspects of spiritual life.

St. Benedict, who codified Western monastic life, incorporated Scripture reading but did not articulate a method of Lectio Divina either.

St. Thomas Aquinas, initially formed in a Benedictine environment and familiar with Cassian’s works, develops a systematic, rational reflection on the content of faith in the Summa Theologica. His method begins from intellectual reflection rather than from the living reception of the Word. Saint Thomas Aquinas writes for the beginner student in theology, yet, curiously, despite his profound attention to the Word of God and his insights on contemplation, he does not provide a method of Lectio Divina. He instructs in theology, but he does not reveal its heart: the practice of listening to and putting the Word of God into practice. While he comments extensively on the Scriptures, he offers no guidance on a biblical method of listening and acting upon the Word, no instruction on how to experience it as a living reality—a true method of Lectio Divina. He treats in great detail the human acts, which is itself a remarkable achievement, yet he never shows how these acts are informed and shaped by the Word of God. He never describes the descent of the Word into the mind and will, nor the transformative process that ensues. He speaks of the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit, but without connecting them to the daily practice of Lectio Divina. He addresses contemplation, yet gives no indication of its immediate and ongoing connection with the Word of God as it is experienced day by day. In effect, his method departs from the scriptural principle: listening to the Word and putting it into practice. Here, human intelligence becomes the organising principle, rather than the instrument of transformation, and theology begins to depart from its biblical and patristic foundation.

St Thomas was led early on by this question: “Who is God?” for he wanted to understand who God is. That was his need. Also, his moto in life as a Dominican was: to contemplate and share with others what he contemplated. He was illumined by God’s light. St. John of the Cross is rather the seeker. The question that led him in life was rather “how can I reach union with God?” He contemplates but after that he teaches others how to contemplate. He has been wounded by Jesus’ love and sought union with him. Each one embodies a form of theology. St. Thomas Aquinas’ form will mark theology till today. Theology is “fides quaerens Intellectum”. St. John of the Cross didn’t claim to teach the beginners as St. Thomas did in his Summa, he didn’t envisage teaching theology, but rather leading to God himself, and more precisely union with God. His theology is a “fides quaerens unionem” (“faith seeking union” or guiding to Union).

St. Thomas Aquinas was guided from the outset by a fundamental question: “Who is God?” His intellectual and spiritual desire was to understand the divine mystery as such. This search corresponds to his Dominican vocation, traditionally expressed as “to contemplate and to hand on to others the fruits of contemplation”. His theology unfolds under the illumination of God’s light, seeking intelligibility and order within the revealed datum of faith. In this sense, Aquinas represents a form of theology that has decisively shaped the discipline up to the present day. Theology is classically defined as “fides quaerens intellectum”, faith seeking understanding, a formulation inherited from St Anselm and fully systematised by Aquinas in works such as the Summa Theologiae, which he explicitly intended as instruction for beginners.

St. John of the Cross, by contrast, is fundamentally a seeker. The question that oriented his entire life was not so much “Who is God?” as “How can I reach God?” He certainly contemplates, but he then teaches others how to enter into contemplation itself. His theology is born not primarily from conceptual illumination but from having been wounded by the love of Christ and drawn into an ever-deepening union with Him. John does not envisage theology as an academic discipline, nor does he claim to teach beginners in the manner of Aquinas. As he states in the Prologue to The Ascent of Mount Carmel, his intention is to guide souls “to reach the summit of union with God”.

Each figure thus embodies a distinct theological form. In Aquinas, theology takes a structured, doctrinal form that has profoundly marked the Church’s intellectual tradition. In John of the Cross, theology is inseparable from the lived path toward transformation and union. If Aquinas exemplifies “fides quaerens intellectum”, John of the Cross may be described as articulating a “fides quaerens unionem”, a faith that seeks union with God and exists precisely to lead others into that union.

Today it can be stated that, since the Middle Ages, theology has been shaped according to a particular paradigm, namely “fides quaerens intellectum”. Even when contemporary theologians do not explicitly claim any affiliation with St. Thomas Aquinas, they remain, consciously or not, marked by the form of theology that he decisively helped to establish. The dominance of this paradigm is difficult to deny, as it has structured not only theological method but also the very understanding of what theology is and what it is meant to achieve.
By contrast, the way St John of the Cross understood his mission and his personal call is not shaped as theology in this sense at all. He did not conceive his task as elaborating a theological system, nor as contributing to theology as an academic discipline. His concern was not primarily the intelligibility of faith, but the concrete transformation of the person through the journey toward union with God.
The situation today reveals a profound need to learn anew from St. John of the Cross and, in doing so, to allow for the emergence of another form of theology, one with its own proper goal, methods, tools, and content. Such a theology would not ask first how faith is to be understood, but rather what must be lived, discerned, and undergone in order to reach union with Christ. In this perspective, theology becomes ordered not merely toward understanding, but toward communion.

Much of contemporary theology continues in this trajectory. It starts with the intellect and reflection on a particular datum of faith, including the Word of God, rather than with the reception of the living Word in a manner that experientially transforms both mind and will. Theology today accumulates knowledge, debates concepts, and constructs systems, yet often fails to transform the soul. In effect, theology becomes a lifeless body of knowledge: conceptually rich, perhaps, but devoid of the living encounter with God that gives it meaning. Students may emerge well-trained intellectually, but untransformed spiritually.

Note: In a sense, the current principles and methods of theology place us inside a kind of “box,” to the point that our inner landscape changes without our awareness. We find ourselves constrained, yet do not even realise it; we accept the rules, follow them diligently, and believe that all is well. It is only when we examine in detail the inner workings of Lectio Divina—observing how the Word of God descends into us, transforms our mind and will, and works within us through the Holy Spirit—and then compare this with our present approach to practising theology, that the truth strikes us. In that moment, we suddenly perceive how distant we have become from God’s life in us.

To restore theology to its authentic form, the practice of Lectio Divina must be recognised as a theological method. It places the Word of God at the centre of prayer, reflection, and life itself, precisely as Vatican II prescribes in Dei Verbum. It shows us how Scriptures are “the soul of Theology” (Dei Verbum 24). Intelligence is engaged, but always in service of reception, meditation, and transformation. The Holy Spirit remains the true master of this practice, illuminating the Word, guiding reflection, and ensuring that understanding is inseparable from lived experience. Theology grounded in Lectio Divina is not a mere intellectual exercise: it is a dynamic encounter with God, producing knowledge, insight, and transformation simultaneously.

Only when theology truly begins with the experience of the Word—heard and lived in the present—does it become authentic. The Lectio Divina—listening and putting into practise what the Lord said to us—is the true method. Without it, theological reflection becomes formal, lifeless, and detached from God. The living Word must remain the centre, the source, and the measure of all theological activity; all else, however learned, is a reflection on faith, not its living embodiment. In this way, the Church may recover a theology that is truly alive, deeply rooted in Scripture, and animated by the Spirit, just as the Fathers envisioned.

It is not a matter of choosing between a “monastic theology” and a “scholastic theology” (and, as Pope Benedict noted, the monastic form is largely absent today). Rather, it is about becoming aware of how theology, as it has been practised since the Middle Ages, ends up alienating us from the experience of God’s Word, creating a rupture between theology and our encounter with Jesus and his Word. Theology has become a reflection on or an understanding of our faith (fides quaerens intellectum), when it should be the guide that leads us to Jesus, teaching us how to listen to him and put his Word into practice. Reflection may follow, but it must never come before. There are fundamental conditions for theology to truly exist; without them, theology ceases to be theology.

– Theology and Spiritual Life (Video) (Text)

– Lectio Divina & Theology (Handout and video)

– On The Method in Theology

– Word of God and Prophecy

– The Central Method of Integral Theology: Lectio Divina. (Video)

– Rethinking Theological Method and Theology

– In the Beginning Was the Word

– Moving From one Theology to the Other

– Pope Benedict XVI, “Monastic Theology and Scholastic Theology”, Papal Audience

Reforming Theology: A Call for Deeper Engagement

–  Reforming Spiritual Theology? (From “Duc in Altum”)

Contemplation according to the Dominican School vs. St. John of the Cross’