Lectio divina is a Western Catholic method of praying with Scripture. It’s Latin for “divine reading.” The practice comes from Benedictine monasticism and follows four steps: reading, meditation, prayer, and contemplation. You might’ve heard about it from Catholic friends or seen it recommended in Christian bookstores.
But it’s not an Orthodox practice.
That doesn’t mean we don’t pray with Scripture. We absolutely do. We just approach it differently, and understanding that difference matters if you’re learning what Orthodox spirituality actually looks like.
Why It’s Not Part of Our Tradition
The Orthodox Church has its own ancient ways of encountering God through His Word. These developed in the Christian East from the Desert Fathers and Mothers, from saints like Basil the Great and John Chrysostom, from centuries of monastic practice on Mount Athos and in Syria and Egypt. Lectio divina developed separately in the medieval West, shaped by different theological emphases and monastic rules.
Some Orthodox writers have tried to adapt lectio divina or find Orthodox equivalents. That’s fine as far as it goes. But if you walk into St. Michael’s and ask about lectio divina, you’ll probably get a kind smile and a redirect toward what we actually do. Our approach isn’t a four-step method. It’s more organic, more tied to the liturgical life of the Church, less individualistic.
How Orthodox Christians Pray Scripture
We read the Bible within the rhythm of the Church’s worship. Every day has appointed Scripture readings, an Epistle and a Gospel, that follow the liturgical calendar. You hear these at Divine Liturgy on Sunday. You can read them at home as part of your prayer rule. They’re not random. They connect to the feast days, the saints we’re commemorating, the season of the Church year.
Our morning and evening prayers include Psalms. Lots of Psalms. The Fathers called the Psalter the prayer book of the Church, and they meant it. You don’t analyze them or break them down into steps. You pray them. You let the words enter your heart. Sometimes you chant them. The point isn’t to extract information but to let Scripture shape your prayer, to unite your mouth with your mind and your heart.
When you read Scripture outside of services, you’re encouraged to start with a prayer asking God to open your understanding. Then you read slowly, prayerfully. If a verse strikes you, you sit with it. You might repeat it quietly. You might let it lead you into the Jesus Prayer: “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.” That’s the heart of Orthodox contemplative practice, not a method you master but a prayer you sink into, a prayer that eventually prays itself in you.
The Church Fathers read Scripture this way. Not as scholars (though they were brilliant), but as men and women seeking union with God. They read with the Tradition of the Church, with the guidance of those who came before, with humility. They didn’t trust their private interpretation. They read as members of the Body of Christ, not as isolated individuals figuring things out alone.
What About Meditation?
We use that word, but it means something specific. In Orthodox spirituality, meditation is thoughtful, prayerful attention to God’s Word and His works. It’s not emptying your mind. It’s filling it with Scripture, with the lives of the saints, with the beauty of creation, and then letting that lead you into prayer. Eventually, for some, it leads into silence, what the Fathers called the prayer of the heart or noetic prayer.
Fr. Thomas Hopko, who taught at St. Vladimir’s Seminary and whose podcasts you can find on Ancient Faith Radio, recommended twenty to thirty minutes of meditation daily. But he meant something rooted in Tradition: the Jesus Prayer, attentiveness to God’s presence, stillness. Not techniques borrowed from other religions or even from Western Christianity without discernment.
If you’re coming from a Protestant background here in Southeast Texas, this might feel unfamiliar. You’re used to Bible studies with workbooks, maybe Beth Moore or Precept studies, lots of underlining and note-taking. That’s not bad. But it’s not what we do. We’re after something deeper than information. We’re after transformation, what the Fathers called theosis, becoming by grace what Christ is by nature.
A Practical Word
If you’re an inquirer or a catechumen and you’re trying to figure out how to pray with Scripture, talk to Fr. [your priest’s name, I don’t have it, so you’ll need to insert it or remove this]. Ask about getting a prayer book. Start with the Psalms. Read the daily Gospel. Don’t worry about mastering a method. Just show up, read, pray, listen. Let the Church’s wisdom guide you instead of trying to innovate your own spirituality.
The Orthodox way isn’t flashy. It’s slow. It’s been tested by centuries of saints who actually became holy, not just well-informed. And it works, if you’re patient enough to let it.
