When a priest vests for the Divine Liturgy, he’s putting on Christ. Each piece of his vestments represents something specific about the priesthood and the spiritual life we’re all called to live.
You’ve probably noticed that Orthodox priests don’t just throw on a robe and walk out. There’s an order to it. And each piece has its own prayer drawn straight from Scripture.
The Layers
The sticharion goes on first. It’s the long white tunic that goes under everything else. The priest prays words from Isaiah 61: “My soul shall rejoice in the Lord, for He has clothed me with the garment of salvation.” This is the baptismal garment, really. We all put on Christ in baptism. The priest wears it visibly.
Next comes the epitrachelion, the long stole that hangs down the front. It represents the yoke of Christ and the grace of the priesthood. Without this, a priest can’t serve the Mysteries. It’s the visible sign of his ordination.
The zone is the belt that cinches everything together. The prayer comes from Psalm 17: “Blessed is God who girded me with power and made my path blameless.” Girding up is biblical language for getting ready to work, to move, to serve. Think of the Israelites eating Passover with their belts fastened, ready to leave Egypt.
The epimanikia are the cuffs that go on each wrist. The right one recalls Exodus 15: “Thy right hand, O Lord, is glorified in strength.” The left one quotes Psalm 118: “Thy hands have made and fashioned me.” Hands that will handle the holy Gifts, that will bless and anoint and baptize.
The phelonion is the large outer vestment, often beautifully embroidered. It’s the most visible piece. The prayer is from Psalm 131: “Thy priests, O Lord, shall be clothed with righteousness, and Thy saints shall rejoice with joy.” This is the garment of service, covering everything else.
Finally, the pectoral cross. Every priest wears one. The prayer is Christ’s own words from Matthew 16: “If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow Me.”
What It All Means
These aren’t costumes. They’re not meant to make the priest look impressive or set apart in some clericalist way. The vestments are about transformation. Before the priest enters the altar to celebrate the Liturgy, he’s being clothed in something beyond himself.
The prayers make this clear. They’re all about what God does. God clothes us with salvation. God girds us with power. God’s hands formed us. The priest isn’t dressing up as someone holy. He’s acknowledging that any holiness in what’s about to happen comes from God alone.
There’s a connection here to the Old Testament priesthood. Aaron and his sons had specific garments for serving in the tabernacle. But those were shadows of what was coming. In Christ, the priesthood is fulfilled. The Christian priest doesn’t offer animal sacrifices. He stands at the altar for the one sacrifice of Christ, offered once for all and made present in the Eucharist.
And here’s something worth thinking about: these vestments aren’t just for priests. The sticharion is what we all wear in baptism (even if symbolically now). The girding with strength, the clothing with righteousness, the taking up of the cross, that’s the Christian life for everyone. The priest wears them visibly because he’s serving at the altar, but we’re all called to put on Christ.
When you’re standing in church on a Sunday morning and the priest comes out in his vestments, you’re seeing someone who’s spent time in the altar praying these prayers, asking God to make him worthy of what he’s about to do. Because he isn’t worthy. None of us are. But God clothes us anyway, if we’ll let Him.
The vesting happens before the service starts, usually while the choir is singing the Third and Sixth Hours. It’s private, preparatory. But the reality it represents is public and cosmic: God making us new, clothing us with salvation, girding us for the work He’s given us to do. The priest’s vestments are a visible sign of an invisible grace that’s offered to all of us.
