Ode 7. The Irmos,

The Children of Abraham in the Persian furnace, ablaze not with the flame but with love for true religion, cried aloud: Blessed are you, Lord, in the temple of your glory.

Saviour, by strength you destroyed the power of death and made known the path of life to mortals, who cry aloud: Blessed are you, Lord, in the temple of your glory.

When they saw you bearing flesh the Hebrew people did not acknowledge you, O Word of God; but we sing to you: Blessed are you, Lord, in the temple of your glory.

Hallowed, divine dwelling of the Most High, hail! For through you, Mother of God, joy has been given to those who cry aloud: Blessed are you among women, all-spotless Lady.

The Chaldeans’ furnace.

The repose of all, you toiled in the flesh; the source of wonders, you thirsted willingly; you asked for water, Jesu, promising living water.

You spoke, Lord, with a woman of Samaria, reproving the folly of the lawless Hebrews; for she believed you to be Son of God, while they denied.

Saviour, the ever-living spring, you promised to give living water, welling up, water of incorruption, to those who receive in faith your Spirit, who proceeds from the Father.

You nourished thousands of the hungry with five loaves, O Saviour, and you made the remains of that fullness abound for other tens of thousands, showing your glory to your sacred Disciples.

He who eats your bread will live eternally, and he who drinks your blood, O Saviour, abides in you, and you abide in him, and you will raise him at the last instant.

You showed the marvel of your dispensation, Master, confirming the divine authority by marvels: you expelled diseases, raised the dead, gave sight to the blind as God.

You cleansed the lepers, made the lame walk, braced the paralysed, healed the woman with an issue of blood; You walked on the sea, showing your glory to your sacred Disciples.

O Lord, we worship your Father without beginning, and the grace of the Spirit which, being God, you distributed to your Apostles and sent them out to preach.

You contained in your womb the uncontainable Word, you suckled at your breasts the nourisher of the world, you carried in your embrace the maker of all, pure Mother of God.

The Chaldeans’ furnace, ablaze with flames, was bedewed with spirit by God’s authority, while the Children sang: Blessed is the God of our fathers.