### Lectio Divina: JOURNEY
September 23, 2026 · Memorial of Saint Pius of Pietrelcina, Priest · Day 23 of the Season of Creation
“Take nothing for the journey.” — Luke 9:3
### 1\. Lectio — The Word
In today’s Gospel, Jesus sends the Twelve on a journey, giving them power and authority to proclaim the Kingdom of God and heal the sick. Yet he instructs them to take nothing for the journey.
I find this a rather extraordinary way to prepare for a mission. I would ordinarily begin by gathering everything I might need, anticipating every difficulty and preparing for every possible eventuality. Jesus, however, begins by asking his disciples to travel light and trust in God’s providence.
On this memorial of Padre Pio, I am reminded that the greatest journey is not necessarily measured in miles. It is measured by the distance between my will and God’s.
### 2\. Meditatio — The Journey Begins at Home
This morning, as I step through the back gate of the house to begin my daily journey around The Glenn, I discover that I am not the only creature setting out on a mission. There, on the sidewalk, is a praying mantis.
We are both at home, yet both are on a journey. The mantis appears to have its hands folded in prayer, which is perhaps more than can be said for me on some mornings!
I wonder whether I have mistaken movement for mission. I can spend an entire day walking the pastures, feeding the sheep, tending the water troughs and looking after the livestock guardian dogs without ever considering whether I am actually journeying toward God.
The praying mantis offers me a rather amusing reminder that I might accomplish more by praying while I work than by merely working while I worry.
During this Season of Creation, I am invited to recognize that the journey of faith is not an escape from the material world. The sacraments reveal something quite the opposite: God takes the ordinary elements of creation and makes them instruments of supernatural life.
Water, oil, fire and color become part of our worship. The hand that blesses becomes an instrument of God’s love. The water that sustains my sheep reminds me of the Living Water that sustains my soul.
I cannot help thinking of Padre Pio. Although he spent most of his priestly ministry at the friary in San Giovanni Rotondo, his spiritual influence traveled around the world. Through his letters, his counsel, his celebration of the Eucharist and his ministry in the confessional, he accompanied countless people on their spiritual journeys.
His example challenges my understanding of what it means to go somewhere.
Perhaps I do not need to leave The Glenn to undertake a pilgrimage. Perhaps the distance I most urgently need to travel is the distance between my preoccupation with the work of my hands and my willingness to place that work in God’s hands.
Jesus tells me to take nothing for the journey. Yet I insist on carrying yesterday’s disappointments, today’s anxieties and tomorrow’s uncertainties.
What would happen if I simply stepped through the gate, like that praying mantis, and began my journey with my hands folded in prayer?
### 3\. Oratio — Prayer
Lord Jesus Christ,
You sent your disciples on their journey with nothing but faith in your providence.
Teach me to travel lightly.
When I step through the gate at The Glenn, help me leave behind the burdens of resentment, anxiety and my desire to control everything.
Through the intercession of Saint Padre Pio, teach me to pray while I work and to recognize your presence in the ordinary encounters of my day.
May the water I provide for my animals remind me of the Living Water you offer freely to all creation. May I never take that gift for granted or waste what you have entrusted to my care.
Help me understand that my journey is not measured by the distance I travel but by the love I give, the mercy I show and the trust I place in you.
Amen.
### 4\. Contemplatio — Underlying narratives: transhumanism and posthumanism
The spiritual journey in an age of artificial intelligence
As I contemplate the praying mantis making its way across my sidewalk, I find myself considering another kind of journey: humanity’s accelerating movement toward artificial intelligence and the promises of transhumanism and posthumanism.
In Magnifica humanitas, I encounter a warning about currents of thought that interpret progress as surpassing the human condition. They imagine an enhanced human being, perhaps even a human-machine hybrid, liberated from some of the limitations of our present existence.
I wonder whether I have already embraced a modest form of this thinking here at The Glenn.
I use technology to monitor my animals, manage my property, communicate with others and even assist me in preparing these daily reflections. Each innovation promises to make my work easier, my decisions faster and my life more efficient.
But am I becoming a better human being, or merely a more technologically equipped one?
Padre Pio spent decades within the walls of a friary, yet his spiritual journey transformed lives far beyond those walls. He did not need to transcend his humanity. He needed to surrender it more completely to Christ.
The sacraments remind me that God does not regard the material world as an obstacle to overcome. He enters it. He uses water to cleanse, oil to strengthen, bread and wine to nourish.
And ultimately, he takes on human flesh.
This is the great paradox of my Christian journey. While some visions of technological progress imagine a future in which humanity transcends its bodily limitations, my faith proclaims a God who willingly embraced those very limitations.
The Word became flesh, not an algorithm.
My praying mantis does not need an upgrade to fulfill its place in creation. Neither do I need to become something other than human to fulfill my vocation.
I need grace.
Artificial intelligence may help me plan my journey, but it cannot undertake my spiritual journey for me. It cannot receive the sacraments on my behalf, repent of my sins or assume my responsibility to love my neighbor and care for creation.
As I continue through the Season of Creation, I want to approach technology with gratitude for its genuine benefits, but without confusing increased capability with spiritual growth.
The Living Water that Christ offers is not another technological achievement. It is a gift to be received.
And perhaps that is why Jesus tells me to take nothing for the journey. He wants my hands free to receive what I could never manufacture for myself.
### 5\. Actio — Walking the Journey
Today, I will make my ordinary walk around The Glenn a pilgrimage of prayer. When I reach a water trough, I will give thanks for the gift of Living Water and consider one practical way to conserve the water entrusted to my care.
I will also take a few minutes away from my phone and other technology to contemplate creation without trying to measure, manage or improve it.
My journey today need not take me beyond the gates of The Glenn. It needs to bring me closer to Christ.
Scripture: · Season of Creation · Laudato si’ · Magnifica humanitas, §115
Memorial of Saint Pius of Pietrelcina, Priest on Day 23 of the Season of Creation
