Opera Divina

I recently had the opportunity to converse with a theologian about the work that I do in the studio. It prompted me to reflect on my use of the term opera Divina and how I see this as the continuation and even further integration of the Benedictine "ora et labora." It feels important to define this clearly and on the record here, even as I have been in robust exemplary discourse about the concept on instagram for over three years.
The concept of painting as prayer started because ​a friend was having a life-changing surgery and I was anxious about it. At the time I was deep in theological study (a student pursuing an MDiv at Fuller during a pandemic) and did not have a daily studio practice. But I was stressed and so fell into my most soothing practices: paint & prayer. I printed multiple brushstrokes in a row across a piece of paper aligning my thought, breath, and action. It was so clearly a thought-ordering rhythm for my hopes, a way of direction, an integrated prayer. 
The Benedictine’s live by the phrase “ora et labora” to pray and work. Opera Divina takes this concept a step further and posits the idea that work itself can be prayer. This unites somatic action and the possibility of perpetual prayer. Opera Divina translates to any field. It is the intentional initiation of a conversation with the Divine through prompted thought and action. The phrase opera Divina itself owes a debt of gratitude to religious historian Dr. Lauren Whitnah. I queried my Instagram followers for a phrase that would encapsulate this integrated prayer and she provided the phrase. It references the visio Divina tradition of looking at art and being guided in reflection by it, while completely centering the work itself as the prayer.