The Triodion is both a liturgical book and the season it names. It’s the period when the Church prepares us for Pascha through repentance, fasting, and some of the most beautiful hymns you’ll ever hear.
The season starts ten weeks before Pascha on the Sunday of the Publican and Pharisee. It runs all the way through Holy Saturday. That’s a long stretch, longer than Lent itself, because the Triodion includes three preparatory Sundays before Lent even begins. The book contains all the special hymns, prayers, and readings for this entire time.
You’ll hear the name and wonder what it means. It comes from Greek, referring to certain canons in the services that have three odes instead of the usual nine. But don’t worry about that technical detail. What matters is what this season does to you.
It’s a time of compunction. That’s an old word we use in Orthodoxy that means more than just feeling sorry. It’s a piercing of the heart, a recognition of how far we’ve wandered and how much we need God’s mercy. The Triodion gives us week after week to practice this.
The Sundays tell the story. First comes the Publican and Pharisee, teaching us that humility opens heaven while pride closes it. Then the Prodigal Son, showing us that no matter how far we’ve run, the Father waits for us. Next is the Sunday of the Last Judgment (we call it Meatfare Sunday because it’s the last day to eat meat before Lent). That one’s sobering. Then comes Forgiveness Sunday (Cheesefare), when we ask forgiveness from everyone in the parish before Lent begins.
After that, Great Lent itself. The Triodion carries us through all forty days, through Lazarus Saturday and Palm Sunday, and finally into Holy Week. Each service has its own hymns appointed in this book.
One prayer dominates the whole season. It’s the Prayer of St. Ephraim the Syrian, and you’ll hear it at nearly every service during Lent. “O Lord and Master of my life, take from me the spirit of sloth, despair, lust of power, and idle talk. But give rather the spirit of chastity, humility, patience, and love to Thy servant.” We make prostrations with it. Full prostrations, all the way down to the ground. It gets into your bones.
The Triodion also gives us three special hymns chanted after the Gospel at Matins. They’re based on Psalm 50, that great penitential psalm. “The gates of repentance, do Thou open unto me, O Giver of Life.” You’ll hear these every Sunday from the Publican and Pharisee through the Sunday of St. Mary of Egypt, which falls in the middle of Lent. They become familiar friends.
Here in Southeast Texas, the Triodion season usually lands somewhere between late January and April, depending on when Pascha falls. Some years you’re starting it in cold weather. Other years it’s already warm and the azaleas are blooming by the time you reach Holy Week. Either way, it’s a long haul. That’s intentional. The Church knows we can’t just flip a switch and become repentant. We need time to turn around, to see ourselves clearly, to let God’s mercy work on us.
The theology here isn’t about earning anything. We’re not doing penance to pay off a debt. We’re sick people going to the hospital. The fasting, the extra services, the prostrations, these are medicine. They’re how we open ourselves to healing. The Triodion guides us through this process with the wisdom of centuries.
If you’re new to Orthodoxy and this is your first Triodion season, it might feel overwhelming. That’s normal. You don’t have to attend every service or keep a perfect fast. Talk to Fr. Michael about what’s realistic for your life. The point isn’t to burn yourself out. It’s to take steps toward God, even small ones.
But don’t skip it entirely, either. The Triodion season is when the Church shows you what she’s really about. It’s not just Sunday morning pleasantries. It’s a hospital for sinners, and this is when we do the serious work of getting well. By the time you reach Pascha, you’ll understand why we sing “Christ is risen” with such joy. You can’t appreciate resurrection if you haven’t been through the tomb.
The Lenten Triodion (that’s the full title of the book) sits on the chanter’s stand through these weeks, worn and marked from years of use. It’s not just a text. It’s a map through the hardest and holiest season of the year, leading us from pride to humility, from death to life.
