Great and Holy Monday is the first day of Holy Week, when the Church begins its journey toward Christ’s crucifixion and resurrection. The evening service (usually celebrated Sunday night in most parishes) is called Bridegroom Matins, and it sets the tone for the entire week: watchfulness, repentance, and the sobering reality that our Lord is walking toward His death.
If you’ve only been to Palm Sunday before, Monday night will feel different. The palms and hosannas are over. Now we’re standing with Christ as He approaches Jerusalem knowing what’s coming.
The Bridegroom Comes at Midnight
The central hymn of Great and Holy Monday is the Bridegroom Troparion, sung in Tone 8:
“Behold the Bridegroom comes at midnight, and blessed is the servant whom He shall find watching, and again unworthy is the servant whom He shall find heedless. Beware, therefore, O my soul, do not be weighed down with sleep, lest you be given up to death and lest you be shut out of the Kingdom. But rouse yourself crying: Holy, Holy, Holy, are You, O our God! Through the Theotokos have mercy on us!”
This isn’t a gentle lullaby. It’s a wake-up call.
Christ is the Bridegroom. We’re the bride. And He’s coming when we least expect it. The first three days of Holy Week (Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday) all use this Bridegroom imagery, taken from Jesus’ parables about the ten virgins and the faithful servant. The question the services keep asking is: Will you be ready? Will you be awake? Or will you be caught sleeping when He arrives?
Two Stories: The Fig Tree and Joseph
The Gospel reading for Great and Holy Monday tells the story of Jesus cursing the barren fig tree (Matthew 21:18-22). He’s hungry. He approaches a fig tree covered in leaves. But there’s no fruit, so the tree withers at His word.
It’s a harsh image. And the Church doesn’t soften it.
The fig tree represents Israel, yes, but it also represents each of us. Leaves without fruit. Religious appearance without transformation. The services use this story as a warning: God isn’t interested in our outward show if our lives bear no fruit of repentance. As someone who grew up Baptist in Beaumont, I can tell you this hits differently than “once saved, always saved.” Orthodoxy takes spiritual fruitfulness seriously.
The other figure commemorated on Great and Holy Monday is Joseph, the patriarch from Genesis. His brothers betrayed him out of envy. They sold him into slavery. He suffered unjustly in Egypt, was thrown into prison, yet remained faithful. Eventually he was exalted and became the means of salvation for his whole family.
Joseph is what the Church calls a “type” of Christ. His story prefigures Jesus’ story. Betrayed by His own. Sold for silver. Suffered unjustly. Descended into the depths. Then exalted and became the Savior of the world. The hymns of Holy Monday weave Joseph’s story together with Christ’s approaching Passion, showing us that what happened to Joseph was a shadow of what would happen to the true Joseph’s Son.
What Happens at the Service
Most Antiochian parishes celebrate Bridegroom Matins on Sunday evening after Vespers, though the service technically belongs to Monday. This is the Greek and Antiochian tradition, anticipating the day’s service the night before. Some people find this confusing at first. You go to church Sunday night, but the bulletin says “Great and Holy Monday.” You get used to it.
The church is often darker than usual. Some parishes dim the lights. The priest and deacons wear dark vestments. The tone is somber but not depressing. It’s the seriousness of watching someone you love walk toward suffering.
There are Gospel readings. Psalms. The Bridegroom Troparion repeated again and again, like a refrain you can’t escape. The service is asking you to examine your life. Are you the fruitless fig tree? Are you the sleeping servant? Or are you watching, awake, ready?
Why This Matters
Great and Holy Week isn’t just a historical reenactment. We’re not playacting the events of Jesus’ final days. The Church believes we’re entering into those events mystically, standing at the foot of the Cross, watching at the tomb, encountering the Risen Lord. But you can’t enter into Christ’s death and resurrection if you’re spiritually asleep.
That’s why Monday starts with a jolt. Behold, the Bridegroom comes at midnight. Wake up. Pay attention. This week will change you if you let it.
Fr. Thomas Hopko used to say that Holy Week begins with the Bridegroom Matins because we need to understand that Christ is both the Bridegroom who loves us and the Judge who will return. He’s coming for His bride. The question is whether we’ll be ready to meet Him.
If you’ve never been to Holy Week services, start with Monday night. Come see what the Church does when it stops celebrating and starts watching. Bring your kids if they’re old enough to sit quietly for an hour. The hymns will get stuck in your head. You’ll find yourself humming “Behold the Bridegroom” in your truck on the way to work Tuesday morning, and that’s exactly what’s supposed to happen.
The Bridegroom is coming. Don’t sleep through it.
