We’re not kissing the man. We’re venerating Christ.
When you see someone kiss Father’s hand after receiving a blessing, they’re doing something that goes back to the earliest days of the Church. It looks strange if you’re new, especially here in Southeast Texas where a firm handshake is the standard greeting. But there’s real theology behind it.
The priest’s hand has touched the Body and Blood of Christ. Every time he celebrates the Divine Liturgy, his hands hold the chalice, break the Lamb, distribute Holy Communion. Those hands have been consecrated through ordination in apostolic succession. They’ve been set apart for sacred work. When we kiss the priest’s hand, we’re venerating what that hand does and what it represents, not the man himself, who’s as much a sinner as anyone else.
St. John Chrysostom put it bluntly. He said that even if you saw a priest walking alongside an angel, you should greet the priest first and kiss his hand, because that hand has touched the Holy Mysteries. The angel hasn’t.
Think of it like kissing an icon. You don’t kiss the wood and paint. You’re venerating the person depicted, offering love and respect to Christ or His Mother or the saints. Same principle here. The priest stands in the place of Christ during the services. His office is an icon of Christ the High Priest. When he blesses you, he forms his fingers into the letters IC XC, the Greek abbreviation for Jesus Christ. He’s not blessing you on his own authority. He’s speaking and acting in Christ’s name.
This isn’t about the priest’s personal holiness. Some priests are holier than others, just like some laypeople are holier than others. But the grace of the priesthood doesn’t depend on the man’s virtue. It depends on Christ’s faithfulness to His Church. We kiss the hand because of what God does through that hand, not because Father is somehow better than us.
How It Works
You approach the priest and say, “Father, bless.” Place your right hand over your left, palms up. He’ll make the sign of the cross over you and place his right hand in yours. Then you kiss his hand. Don’t shake it, that’s a secular greeting, and this isn’t a secular moment.
You don’t cross yourself before asking for the blessing. That’s reserved for venerating things like icons or the cross. When you’re asking a blessing from a person, you just bow slightly and ask.
One exception: don’t try to kiss the priest’s hand while you’re receiving Holy Communion. That’s awkward for everyone and risks spilling the chalice. After Liturgy, when Father distributes the antidoron (the blessed bread), that’s a good time. Or when you see him before or after a service. Or when you’re asking him to hear your confession.
Deacons are different. We don’t kiss a deacon’s hand the same way, because deacons don’t celebrate the Eucharist. They assist, but they don’t consecrate the Gifts.
What This Says About Priesthood
In Orthodoxy, the priest isn’t just a teacher or a worship leader. He’s a sacramental minister. His ordination changed something real about his relationship to the Church and to the Holy Mysteries. He can’t unconsecrate himself any more than you can unbaptize yourself.
This makes some people uncomfortable, especially if they come from traditions where every believer is equally a priest and there’s no special clerical office. We believe in the priesthood of all believers too, but we also believe Christ established a ministerial priesthood through the apostles. The priest offers the sacrifice on behalf of the people. He pronounces absolution in confession. He anoints the sick. These aren’t just symbolic acts, they’re means of grace.
Kissing his hand acknowledges that reality. It’s a physical expression of something we believe spiritually. The Church isn’t just a gathering of like-minded individuals. It’s the Body of Christ, structured and ordered, with apostolic succession running like a thread from the Twelve down to the priest standing in front of you at St. Michael’s.
When you kiss Father’s hand, you’re participating in something ancient. Christians in the Middle East have greeted their priests this way for centuries. It’s part of that “holy kiss” St. Paul mentions in his letters. It’s a sign of reconciliation too, we forgive the priest his sins against us, and he forgives us ours. During Forgiveness Vespers at the start of Great Lent, everyone exchanges this kiss and asks forgiveness from everyone else, including the clergy.
It might feel awkward the first few times. That’s fine. Most things in Orthodoxy feel awkward at first. But there’s something good about having a physical gesture that reminds you what you believe about the priesthood, the sacraments, and the Church. Your body is learning the faith along with your mind.
Next time you’re at Liturgy, watch how people receive Father’s blessing. You’ll see the same gesture you’d use to venerate an icon or receive a piece of antidoron. It’s all connected, the same reverence, the same understanding that Christ meets us through physical things. Through bread and wine. Through oil and water. Through the hand of a priest.
