The Great Litany is the long series of petitions chanted by the deacon (or priest) near the beginning of the Divine Liturgy and other major services. After each petition, we respond “Lord, have mercy.”
It’s the first thing many visitors notice when they walk into an Orthodox service. The deacon stands before the icon screen and begins: “In peace, let us pray to the Lord.” The choir or congregation answers: “Lord, have mercy.” Then another petition. Another “Lord, have mercy.” And on it goes, maybe fifteen or twenty times, covering everything from the peace of the world to travelers by land and sea to people in prison.
If you’re coming from a Baptist or non-denominational background here in Southeast Texas, this can feel strange at first. You’re used to pastoral prayers where one person prays and everyone else listens. The Great Litany works differently. The deacon voices the petition on behalf of everyone, and we all respond. It’s corporate prayer in the most literal sense.
Why “Great”?
We call it the Great Litany because it’s longer and more comprehensive than the other litanies you’ll hear during the service. There’s a Little Litany (just three petitions), a Litany of Fervent Supplication, and others. But this one comes first and sets the tone for everything that follows. It’s also called the Litany of Peace because it begins with that petition for peace.
The structure tells you what the Church thinks is important. We start with peace, peace with God, peace in our souls, peace in the world. Then we pray for the Church universal, for our bishop (in our case, Metropolitan Saba), for our priests and deacons. We pray for civil authorities. We pray for good weather and fruitful harvests, which might sound quaint until you remember that hurricane season is a real thing and plenty of folks around here still depend on the land.
Then the petitions get more personal. We pray for travelers. Anyone who’s sent a husband or son offshore for two weeks knows why that matters. We pray for the sick, the suffering, and those in captivity. We pray for our deliverance from affliction, wrath, danger, and necessity.
What We’re Actually Doing
Fr. Lawrence Farley from the OCA points out something important: these aren’t just nice wishes anyone could offer. This is the prayer of the Church, the Body of Christ, exercising its royal priesthood. In the early centuries, catechumens were dismissed before the litanies because this intercession belonged specifically to the baptized. We stand before God as His people, asking Him to act in the world.
That’s why we don’t say “Amen” after each petition. We say “Lord, have mercy”, Kyrie eleison in Greek. We’re not just agreeing with the petition. We’re crying out for God’s mercy, over and over, because mercy is what we need and what the world needs. It’s not repetitive in a mindless way. It’s insistent. Persistent. Like the widow in the parable who kept bothering the judge until he gave her justice.
Fr. Thomas Hopko spent seven podcast episodes on Ancient Faith Radio working through the Great Litany petition by petition. That should tell you something about how much is packed into these brief phrases. Each one opens onto a whole theology of the Church, the world, and God’s relationship with both.
Learning to Pray It
When you’re new, you might feel lost. The deacon’s chanting, the choir’s responding, and you’re still trying to find your place in the service book. That’s fine. Just listen at first. Let the rhythm of petition and response wash over you. You’ll start to recognize the pattern, then the specific petitions, and eventually you’ll find yourself joining in the response without thinking about it.
Some people worry that liturgical prayer is impersonal or rote. But there’s nothing impersonal about standing with your parish family, week after week, praying for the same needs in the same words that Christians have prayed for centuries. Your son’s offshore job becomes part of “travelers by land, sea, and air.” Your friend’s cancer treatment becomes part of “the sick and the suffering.” Your own anxiety about money or work becomes part of “our deliverance from all affliction, wrath, danger, and necessity.”
The Great Litany teaches us what to pray for and how to pray. It pulls our attention outward from our private concerns to the needs of the whole Church and the whole world. Then it folds our private concerns back into that larger prayer. It’s not that your individual needs don’t matter. It’s that they matter precisely because you’re part of this Body, and the Body prays for all its members.
If you visit St. Michael for Vespers or the Divine Liturgy, you’ll hear the Great Litany near the beginning. Don’t worry about understanding everything at once. Just listen for that opening: “In peace, let us pray to the Lord.” And when you hear “Lord, have mercy,” add your voice to ours.
