Meditation is an ancient practice and an inescapable one. We all meditate. We all ruminate on things. Whether they be fears, friends, family, joys, hopes, dreams, the colour of money, or what Julia Roberts wore at the Oscars.
For Christians, the contemplation of God, His character, promises and handiwork, and the godly handiwork of those made as His image, are not only encouraged, they are commanded in scripture.
And so Paul writes,
Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honourable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, meditate on these things. (Philippians 4:8)
God-defined truth, honour, justice, purity, loveliness, commendable deeds, excellence – and anything else worthy of praise: These are to be the substance of our meditations. These are the things we are to chew on when we lie down at night and when we walk through the fields by day. These are the things we are to contemplate as we go about our daily work.
The world, feasting at a different table, has an altogether different menu upon which to meditate and finds the objects of Christian meditation foolish or naive.
The world will accuse the Christian who meditates on the word of God, on purity, on the excellence of the resurrection, on beer and love-making to the glory of God, as living in a fantasy. They will say that we are superstitious, old-fashioned, and childish.
Maybe. But at least the meditation is pleasant.
The drunkard, wrote Chesterton, is at least contemplating the joy of his salvation and of his resurrection from the dead. When He meditates on the cup of Christ and drinks down the mercies of God, he is rejoicing in hope.
By contrast, the kings of the earth toss us their dark meditations, knowing full well it will not lead to wholeness but to fear, then death.
What the wicked dreads will come upon him, but the desire of the righteous will be granted. (Proverbs 10:24)
The world throws a diseased liver on the altar and invites the drunkard to meditate on that. The world throws a smoker’s lung containing enough tar to restructure the M5 at our feet and tells us to meditate on that. But all such meditations are grounded in fear and death, and from such fears, God has delivered us (2 Timothy 1:7).
The point is not that we should meditate. We will all meditate. The question has to do with what we are meditating on. As the preacher says,
…for as a man thinketh in his heart, so he is. (Proverbs 23:7)
Our daily meditations are making us more of what we already are. And so the scriptures teach us that a righteous man is the man who meditates on the word of God (Psalm 1:2, Joshua 1:8).
Those who meditate on degrading passions, on the pride of life, on greed and envy and death are becoming a reflection of those things. But those who look to the Lord are radiant, and their faces shine.
The meditation of the Christian man is not death but life. Not disease but wholeness and healing. Not destruction, but deliverance. He’s not governed by fear but by faith. But he is not governed by superstition and magic either. What is called “positive thinking” to the believer is just a meditation on the firm promises of God and the Lord Jesus Christ.
Whatever is lovely, whatever is true, whatever is pure and honourable. These are what we meditate on. And by these things, our conscience is being made pure, and our hearts are being washed and sanctified daily in readiness for the resurrection and eternal life.
Such a transformation of the human heart requires a miracle and that miracle is the outpouring of God’s Spirit at the resurrection of Jesus Christ upon all who believe. It’s the Spirit of God that gives us a new heart. A heart that is now able to meditate on all of these life-giving things.
Life-giving things, found in His Word.