17 minute read
LECTIO CONCORDIA
Mark Ryman
We called it “quiet time” or “daily walk” in the first congregation that I pastored, but it is known by various other names like “daily office” or by Latin terms Luther and the church before him employed. I suppose most people simply call it “devotions.” I will come back to those Latin terms later. Suffice it to say, this 30-year-old lay pastor of a United Methodist Church in Ohio, now understood the old daily walk to be a form of “spiritual formation.” That term was thrown around a bit by my new pastoral colleagues back then, without the definition that might have been helpful to a relatively new pastor like me. So, I did not realize that spiritual formation included more elements than reading my Bible. Reading the Bible was something I had already been doing for a dozen years, and I imagined I had been doing a good job of it. At set times, I would open the book and read, usually chasing down the cross references in the margins as part of a daily regimen of drawing near to God.
So, I thought I was doing what the denomination considered “spiritual formation.” To be sure, I was also worshiping, caring for the small group of people God had given me to pastor, and helping others in the community. I did not know that these and other things like fasting and the work of the Holy Spirit were also part of spiritual formation. But it was instinctual. I knew that reading the Bible had more purpose than personal development or knowledge, that it involved the folks in the church too. What I had yet to discover was that spiritual formation was far more than simply acquiring knowledge about God.
A Guide to Prayer
Not having completed college, let alone seminary, I was reading everything recommended in the 1980s that might help me shepherd a small, inner-city congregation. That is when the Lord sent me to a book that changed my life. That book helped me lead that congregation (and several since) via a strange concept—by changing me, by leading me daily through the discipline of its design. The books that the denomination’s lay pastor track wanted me to read were about church growth, doctrines, practices, and of course, being an old-line denomination, the occasional history book. But the book that did the most for me and my church was one I found on my own, or as I said, I like to think I was led to it. The book is called A Guide to Prayer for Ministers and Other Servants. 1 It was written and compiled by two United Methodist bishops, Reuben Job and Norman Shawchuck, and published by The Upper Room in 1983, the year it came into my hands. It changed everything for me and laid the foundation for my future ministry because it was foundational in my daily walk with God. It was a volume that, because I used it in the confines of my congregation, was simply a means for discipleship. My copy is more worn than I am (that is worn indeed), but God used it to renew me day after day for 20 years at the end of the previous century. Indeed, the structure of their little book provided a way for the Holy Spirit to work upon me through his Word in a more dynamic manner than in my earlier quiet times with God. The approach the authors took changed the way I viewed spiritual formation.
As I mentioned, “spiritual formation” was tossed around a lot back then, but it seemed to be about reading books in connection with continuing education classes. It did not have anything to say about the day-to-day life with God. A Guide to Prayer, on the other hand, is about the daily office, about an appointed time to spend with God. The routine takes one through prayer and reading and more prayer. In this cycle I came to see how the day-to-day prayer life of the pastor informs and fuels the call. Without a prayer life, I am afraid that I would have had a career. With a proper prayer life, I was able to be a pastor replying to God’s call.
A Guide to Prayer was an updated lectio divina model of devotion. Lectio divina is Latin for “divine reading.” The point of divine reading or lectio divina is reading in a way that drives one to pray. It is a method that invites the Holy Spirit to suggest connections between the Word, additional readings, set prayers, and hymns. These connections have focused my sermons, led me into conversations with colleagues and church folks, and more importantly, into conversation with God. Prayer was no longer simply talking to God; it was listening to him too. It was conversation.
Conversational Prayer or Dialog?
In the mid-70s I read a book by Rosalind Rinker called Conversational Prayer.2 Her idea was that when we pray in groups, one person prays where the other left off—a sort of conversation together with God. Except, from what I could tell in putting this into practice was that it was not a conversation with God at all. It was even more people talking at him and listening to each other pray, while perhaps none of them were listening to God. It would be nearly ten years later when A Guide to Prayer began showing me that prayer is not a monologue. It is a dialogue, a real conversation with the divine. I still like the idea of conversational prayer, but I wish it let God in on the discussion. I wish it were prayer with an open Bible leading the conversation.
Luther is said to have insisted that on those days when he had a great deal to accomplish, he simply had to begin the day with at least three hours of prayer. That seems a rather daunting suggestion. Three hours! The honest Christian might think herself lucky to get through three minutes of prayer. The truly honest Christian might even admit he does not pray much at all, unless there is something he really needs—or if he promised to pray for Aunt Gertrude’s current ailment. Even then, you know we are talking of less than thirty seconds of prayer. I speculate here, but I do suspect that the prayer life of most Christians is beggarly at best. Prayer may be altogether absent most weeks, outside of praying the Lord’s Prayer on Sunday mornings.
Luther is said to have insisted that on those days when he had a great deal to accomplish, he simply had to begin the day with at least three hours of prayer.
I wonder if this is true for many pastors too. Now, having poked the bear this much, allow me to sharpen the stick. I have a bit more than a hunch that this dearth of prayer may be due to another lack. When these two shortcomings are identified, the merger of the two negatives may add up to one life-changing positive that can change a career into a call, and a life reshaped by spiritual formation. To get there, we will need to explore both lectio divina and Martin Luther a bit more.
Luther on Prayer
Insisting that prayer cannot be separated from the Word, Luther used the Latin terms oratio (prayer) and meditatio (contemplation). He included tenatatio (trial or temptation) too but as that which leads us back into prayer—talking to and listening to God. These three were steps in a circular journey, one leading to the next, then back to the beginning.3
Now, I am going out on a wobbly Lutheran limb here. Arguably (for I can argue the opposite), Luther has the first two backwards. He has prayer (oratio) coming first and contemplation (meditatio) second—though a bit to his defense, it is a continuous loop, so who knows where it really starts? Still, I think I know where it should start generally. Good lectio divina would have prayer come second. Our words should follow his Word. Listening should precede speaking, if speaking comes at all (James 1:19). A careful, slow, divine reading of the Scripture should lead us to prayer. I will illustrate this for you below.
Before that example, let me say that we live in a certain doubt about our spiritual condition. Jesus often went out into lonely places to be alone with the Father for the night. Have you ever done that? Me neither. My brother-in-law wakes up every morning at 3:00. He used to think, being about my age, that this was because he was an old man. Now he knows that call of nature is really a call to prayer. So, now he stays awake and spends time with the Lord. Me? My eyes won’t focus at 3AM. And eye-focus is critical to me for prayer. So, I get up at around 5 to do my version of lectio divina.
Lectio divina begins with a brief Collect, often a written prayer, and very often the same one for each day of a given week to offer one’s attention to God. Appointed readings for each day follow, often with a particular psalm being used each day for the whole week. I like to use different translations of that psalm each day, so that by the end of the week, the psalm has flowed over me in several voicings. In A Guide to Prayer, there would now be time for an additional nonbiblical reading, journaling, and the singing of a hymn, then closing with a common benediction for each day that week.
I think there is a better approach that includes lectio divina and pairs well with Luther’s oratio, meditatio, tentatio. It begins with slowing down. This slowing down may be why Jesus went up into the mountains to pray, far away from the workaday distractions of ministry. It may also be another reason old men wake up in the fourth watch of the night but do not realize this fuller extent of the reason. In that early morning watch, there are not many distractions —even in a house with TV, the internet, and a Golden Retriever.
So, try this: the next time you are sufficiently away from distractions, open your Bible and begin with meditatio, though perhaps one might or should begin with a Collect.
How and Why to Pray the Lectio Divina
So, try this: the next time you are sufficiently away from distractions, open your Bible and begin with meditatio, though perhaps one might or should begin with a Collect. Read slowly and allow the Holy Spirit to prompt your prayer. Here I provide you with the promised example, but I remind you first of the word “conversation.” Prayer is dialogue that begins with listening to the Speaker, and then responding.
Suppose I was reading from the New Testament lesson from the Daily Lectionary,4 which as I write this article is Colossians 1:15–23,5
“He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation. For by him all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities—all things were created through him and for him. And he is before all things, and in him all things hold together. And he is the head of the body, the church. He is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, that in everything he might be preeminent. For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of his cross. And you, who once were alienated and hostile in mind, doing evil deeds, he has now reconciled in his body of flesh by his death, in order to present you holy and blameless and above reproach before him.”6
Reading slowly, I might refer to alternate translations or perhaps might immediately notice the word “image” in the opening line which states that Jesus “is the image of the invisible God.” I might recall or even look up the Greek for that word and remember that it is εἰκών (eikon). At this point, a Lutheran version of lectio divina that begins with meditatio would urge me to pray something like:
“Father, no one has ever seen you. Your glory was hidden even from Moses. Philip asked his rabbi to show he and his fellow disciples the Father and Jesus responded that having seen him, they have already seen the Father. Thank you for giving us that icon who connects the human and the divine. I am grateful that you have shown us your character and majesty by giving us your Son, the likeness, portrait, and very image of yourself.”
Now, this is just a snippet of what one might do when one begins his prayers with meditatio. Imagine what prayers and length of time spent in oratio during the lonely hour one might apprehend if begun with reading that prompts prayer. We might begin to pray as Luther did, as Jesus did.
Continuing in the reading we observe that the Son shares the Father’s ascription to creation in the Apostles’ Creed. One might spend some time talking to God about his unique essence, shared among himself, and that his Eikon shared with him and the Spirit as they moved over the face of the deep in creation. Prayerfully, we might wonder aloud how such eternal authority gives him authority over all things (Acts 17:28) especially his church (Col 1:18). We might praise him in prayer for holding the whole creation together for his own purposes and then be surprised that he even holds the church together, over whom he is the Head.
We are only three verses into just one of the readings in the Daily Lectionary. And no one has called yet, our email lies in an unopened program, Facebook is… Well, who cares about Facebook anyway since you are talking with the Creator of all things. Notice I said talking “with.” This is the point of lectio divina; it is not merely reading the Bible like it was any other book. It is listening to God that prompts conversation with him—prayer.
And that can change everything about your call. Imagine a marriage where one person does all the talking, the other barely responding or not being interested at all. Or where the one does not think the other cares what he or she thinks at any rate. But we know that is not the Case with God. The Father wants to hear from us. Luther teaches us in the Small Catechism that the Father longs to hear from us. In the Conclusion to the Lord’s Prayer, Luther reminds us that God has commanded our prayers and that they are pleasing to him.7 As such, we begin to see that prayer is a conversation between a loving Father and his children.
But the question is, “How do I pray?” Jesus answered this for us with the prayers he taught us to pray. Still, there is something within us that suggests something more than parroting is called for when we pray—even in praying the Lord’s Prayer. It was suggested by a few during the 2025 Theological Conference of St. Paul Lutheran Seminary that we slow down when we say the Lord’s Prayer in nursing homes, on hospital visits, and even in church. The perhaps mindless, NASCAR race to the end of our so-called “prayer” does need to change. Indeed, at my own church, St. Paul’s, you will often hear a certain pastor be a whole line behind most everyone else. But speed of prayer is not the whole issue. It is more than slowing down; it is making connections while you pray. It is listening to and being prompted to pray by the thoughts flying past the corners of your mind.
It was suggested by a few during the 2025 Theological Conference of St. Paul Lutheran Seminary that we slow down when we say the Lord’s Prayer in nursing homes, on hospital visits, and even in church.
I do not suggest that we should pray about every single thing the enters our fleeting thoughts. Were that true, I might spend an inadvertent amount of time in prayer about the Golden State Warriors or where I might find a place to put a print shop at St. Paul’s or a studio for painting or where am I going to go in the camper and when? No, we must be selective in our prayers. It is a discipline to pay attention to these thoughts whisking by our consciousness, and to determine which may be prompts from the Holy Spirit guiding our prayers. There must be an easier and better way to pray the way Jesus and Luther prayed, through the night or at least in the early hours of the morning. Most of us would feel pretty good if we could spend half an hour in consistent prayer, let alone watch with Jesus for an hour (Matt 26:40), or “pray continually” as Paul exhorted the Thessalonians (1 Thess. 5:17).
This is why I suggest the lectio divina model as a basis for spiritual formation.
This is why I suggest the lectio divina model as a basis for spiritual formation. Using this method, we can begin to pray like Luther, who could not and would not separate prayer from the Scriptures. When Luther had his busy days and spent the first hours in prayer, he wasn’t in a so-called “prayer closet.” He was at his desk with the Book before him. I mean to say that the Holy Spirit may more reliably guide your prayers through the Scriptures than through your wide-ranging thoughts or even a prayer journal. How many of those have I started and abandoned over the last 50 years? How many have you? There is nothing wrong with such journals; but for me, they have mostly been a list of names and things I wanted to see happen, and less about what God willed and wanted me to be praying.
There is nothing wrong with such journals; but for me, they have mostly been a list of names and things I wanted to see happen, and less about what God willed and wanted me to be praying.
That is why Lectio Concordia8 (Reading in Harmony) works for me. It gets me started where I can hear God speak first, in his Word. I find that when I take it slowly—for we can dash though our devotions as quickly as we might the Lord’s Prayer and especially read something (like the Daily Lectionary or a prayer book that has divine readings) that connections are made. Different thoughts fly past the corners of my thinking. One verse speaks to another (like actually reading the marginal references in a good Bible) and soon, Scripture begins to interpret Scripture.9 As importantly, the Holy Spirit using those Scriptures interprets my prayers. A conversation has begun where I am no longer in charge. Instead, I am replying to what God says to me.
Rev. Mark Ryman is married to Susan. He is pastor of St. Paul’s Lutheran Church in Salisbury, NC, and is happy to have received the D.Min. from St. Paul Lutheran Seminary.
Endnotes:
1Rueben P. Job and Norman Shawchuck, A Guide to Prayer for Ministers and Other Servants (Nashville, Tennessee: The Upper Room, 1983).
2Rosalind Rinker, Prayer: Conversing with God (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Zondervan Publishing, 1986).
3For more on oratio, meditatio, and tentatio, join us for the 2026 Theological Conference of St. Paul Lutheran Seminary May 18–20, 2026.
4“Daily Lectionary” in Lutheran Book of Worship (Minneapolis, MN: Augsburg Publishing House, 1978), 179–192.
5Ibid., 182.
6The Holy Bible: English Standard Version (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2016), Col 1:15–23.
7Martin Luther, “The Conclusion” to the Lord’s Prayer in The Small Catechism, https://catechism.cph.org/en/lords-prayer.html
8Lectio Concordia is a book of daily thematic lessons in the Scripture paired with readings from The Book of Concord (the Lutheran Confessions) that are focused on the upcoming Sunday's lessons in the three-year lectionary. I have attached a sample of my project to this article. My intent is to publish in 2026.
9Scripture interpreting Scripture is a hermeneutical principle that is generally attributed to Luther though he never wrote it in so many words.
