Ode III

Irmos: Thy Church rejoiceth in Thee, O Christ, crying aloud: Thou art my strength, O Lord, my refuge and my consolation!

Sessional hymn, in Tone IV: Spec. Mel.: “Having been lifted up…”—

With the streams of thy tears and torrents of thy blood thou didst extinguish the cruel burning coal of deception, O holy martyred hierarch Theodotus.

Theotokion: O all-pure one, heal thou my mind which hath been rendered feeble by the attacks of the evil serpent and is in thrall to sin.

Irmos: O Theotokos, thou living and abundant fountain: in thy divine glory establish those who hymn thee and spiritually form themselves into a choir; and vouchsafe unto them crowns of glory.

Sessional hymn, in Tone III—

Having shown thee to be a godly hierarch, thy pure life made of thee a true witness to the sufferings of Christ.

Glory…, Now & ever…: Theotokion—

Standing in the midst of the tribunal, wounded with cruel wounds, thou didst not deny the name of Christ, O martyr Theodotus.

Thou didst render thy hierarchical vesture yet more splendid with the wetness of thy blood, O Theodotus, and thou hast made thine abode in the heavens, where with pure thought thou seest Him Whom thou didst desire. Wherefore, we glorify thy most sacred memory and cry aloud: Remember us as thou standest with boldness before God.

Who can describe mine impure mind and the tempests of my wicked thoughts, O all-immaculate one? Who can recount the assaults of mine incorporeal foes and their malice? Yet by thine entreaties grant me deliverance from them all, O good one.

Stavrotheotokion—

Beholding Thee hanging upon the Cross Who wast begotten of the unoriginate Father, she who in latter days gave birth unto Thee in the flesh, O Christ, cried out: “Woe is me, O Jesus most beloved! How is it that Thou, O my Son, Who art glorified as God by the angels, art now crucified by iniquitous men? I hymn Thee, O Long-suffering One!”

The serpent deluded me, for he is a liar; and, harboring what is spiritually harmful within itself, my heart hath become troubled. I remain as one dead. With what words shall I mourn myself? Yet I beseech thee, O Mistress, I entreat thee and say: Gain the mastery over him and cleanse me of my sin.

With bitter tears I pour out my heart like water; my contrition is as a sacrifice to thee, O all-pure one, and I pray: Nay, turn not away from me, thy servant, but preserve me until the last day.

My eyes are grown dim because of my wounds, and my burden hath borne me down. Where is my glory? Mine enemy and foe hath imprisoned me, yet I accept my bonds as mercy and chant in gladness: There is none like our God, Who will raise up His Anointed and His Mother, our Mistress!

Give me guidance, O thou who dost nourish the poor, and illumine me with the light which shineth forth from thee in abundance. O Theotokos, Mother of my God, be thou a faithful help for me.

Beset am I by soul-destroying thoughts, and it is difficult for me. Wilt thou disdain thy servant? O all-pure one, I pray thee: Raise me up from the dung-hill of my sins, heal my sores, and save me, save me, O Mistress!

O ineffable and most excellent ladder: as did the ladder which our forefather beheld descending from the heavens, so hast thou, O Bride of God, joined heaven to earth. Thou art the ascent whereby we are saved from tribulations.

Glory…, Now & ever…, in the same tone—

Beholding Christ, thy Son and God, hanging on the Cross between two thieves, O Mother, thou didst bitterly lament; and a sword pierced thy heart. O Virgin Mistress, knowing pain thyself, save all thy broken people who are being sorely tried.