Orthodox Christians say prayers before and after meals. The most common form starts with the Lord’s Prayer, then asks Christ to bless the food.
Here’s the full version you’ll find in most Orthodox prayer books:
Our Father, Who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name. Thy Kingdom come. Thy will be done, on earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.
Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, now and ever and unto ages of ages. Amen.
Lord, have mercy. Lord, have mercy. Lord, have mercy.
O Christ our God, bless the food and drink of Thy servants, for Thou art holy always, now and ever and unto ages of ages. Amen.
That’s the standard. But plenty of families use a shorter version, especially when you’ve got hungry kids or you’re grabbing lunch between shifts at the refinery. The short form is just: “O Christ our God, bless the food and drink of Thy servants, for Thou art holy always, now and ever and unto ages of ages. Amen.”
Both work fine. The point isn’t the length.
After you eat, there’s a thanksgiving prayer. We don’t just ask God to bless food and then forget about Him once our plates are empty. The after-meal prayer goes like this:
We give thanks to Thee, O Christ our God, that Thou hast satisfied us with Thy earthly blessings; deprive us not also of Thy Heavenly Kingdom.
Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, now and ever and unto ages of ages. Amen.
Lord, have mercy. Lord, have mercy. Lord, have mercy.
Blessed is God, Who has fed and nourished us with His bountiful gifts by His grace and compassion always, now and ever and unto ages of ages. Amen.
You can also use the shorter: “We thank You, Christ our God, for providing us with Your earthly gifts. Deprive us not of Your heavenly Kingdom.”
Why We Do This
These prayers aren’t just religious formality. They’re doing something.
When we ask Christ to bless our food, we’re acknowledging that He’s the source of everything we have. That chicken casserole or those tacos didn’t just appear. God made the wheat, the chickens, the soil, the rain. He gave people the ability to farm and cook. Saying the prayer reminds us we’re not self-sufficient. We depend on God for our next breath and our next meal.
But it’s more than gratitude. We’re asking Christ to sanctify the food, to make it holy. This isn’t magic, we’re not turning chicken into the Eucharist. But we are recognizing that all creation is meant to be blessed, to participate in God’s grace. The physical world isn’t separate from the spiritual. When we bless our food, we’re living out what we believe about creation: that matter is good, that God became flesh, that the physical and spiritual are woven together.
The after-meal prayer makes this even clearer. We thank God for earthly food, then immediately ask Him not to deprive us of the heavenly Kingdom. Every meal points beyond itself. We’re being fed now, but we’re also looking ahead to the eternal banquet, the wedding feast of the Lamb. Our kitchen table is connected to the altar, and both are connected to the Kingdom that’s coming.
This is why the word for thanksgiving in Greek is eucharistia, the same word we use for the Divine Liturgy. The Eucharist is the ultimate thanksgiving, where bread and wine become Christ’s Body and Blood. Our daily meals echo that. They’re smaller thanksgivings, reminders that all food is gift, all eating is communion.
If you’re new to this, start simple. Use the short prayers. Say them out loud with your family, even if it feels awkward at first. Your Baptist relatives might think you’re being formal, but you’re actually doing what Christians have done since the beginning: blessing God for His blessings, and asking Him to feed us not just with bread, but with Himself.
