A canon is a structured hymn made up of nine sections called odes. That’s the short answer. But there’s more to it than that, and understanding canons will help you make sense of what’s happening at Matins and why your priest might suggest praying a Paraklesis when you’re going through something hard.
Think of a canon as a long poem set to music, built around nine biblical songs. These aren’t just any songs. They’re specific passages from Scripture that the Church has sung since ancient times: the song of Moses after crossing the Red Sea, Hannah’s prayer, the song of the three young men in the fiery furnace, Mary’s Magnificat. Each ode in a canon corresponds to one of these biblical canticles and echoes its themes.
Here’s how it works. Each ode starts with an irmos, which is a model stanza that sets the pattern. Then come the troparia, which are additional stanzas that follow the same rhythm and melody as the irmos. The troparia develop whatever theme the canon is exploring, whether that’s a feast day, a saint’s life, repentance, or asking for help. So you get this repeating structure: irmos, then several troparia, then on to the next ode with its own irmos and troparia.
The whole thing can be quite long. In practice, parishes often abbreviate canons because singing all nine odes with multiple troparia each would make Matins go past noon. Some odes get skipped. The second ode rarely appears because its biblical canticle (Moses’s warning song from Deuteronomy) is penitential and doesn’t fit most occasions.
You’ll encounter canons mainly at Matins, which is the morning service. In many Antiochian parishes, Matins gets combined with Divine Liturgy on Sundays, so you might hear parts of a canon before the Liturgy begins. The canon sits in the middle of Matins, woven between psalms and other prayers. After the third ode there’s usually a break for a sedalion. After the sixth ode comes the kontakion. Then the remaining odes continue.
But canons aren’t just for church services. They’re also used for private prayer and for special services of supplication. The Paraklesis is probably the most common example you’ll run into. It’s a short canon to the Theotokos, asking for her prayers and help. When someone’s sick, or facing surgery, or dealing with a crisis, Orthodox Christians often serve a Paraklesis. Some parishes do them regularly during the Dormition fast in August. You can also pray a Paraklesis at home, reading it quietly or with your family.
The most famous canon in Orthodoxy is the Great Canon of St. Andrew of Crete. It’s massive, 250 troparia. We chant it during the first week of Great Lent, and it’s an extended meditation on repentance that walks through biblical history, comparing our sins to those of figures in Scripture. If you’ve never been to a service where they chant the Great Canon, go. It’s long, yes. But it does something to you. People stand there for an hour or more, making prostrations, and by the end you feel like you’ve been through something.
Canons developed in the Byzantine period, roughly the seventh and eighth centuries, as a way to give Matins a richer hymnographic structure. Hymnographers like St. John of Damascus and St. Andrew of Crete turned the biblical canticles into frameworks for new poetry. The result was a form that could teach theology, tell saints’ stories, and lead people into prayer all at once.
When you’re new to Orthodoxy, canons can feel overwhelming. The language is often dense and poetic. References fly by. But don’t worry about catching every word. Let the repetition and the rhythm carry you. The structure itself, this pattern of irmos and troparia, repeated nine times, creates a kind of meditative space. You’re not supposed to analyze it like a textbook. You’re supposed to pray it.
If you want to start praying canons at home, pick up a prayer book that includes a few common ones. The Paraklesis is a good place to start. So is the Canon of Repentance to our Lord Jesus Christ. Read them slowly. Don’t rush. And if you don’t understand everything, that’s fine. You’re entering into the Church’s prayer, joining your voice to centuries of Christians who’ve prayed these same words.
Canons aren’t just historical artifacts. They’re living prayers. When we chant them at Matins or pray them in our homes, we’re doing what the Church has always done, taking the songs of Scripture and making them our own, weaving the biblical story together with our own need for mercy, healing, and communion with God.
