Stichera for Great Thursday

S. Andrew of Crete.

A.D. 660 A.D. 732.

Andrew was born at Damascus, about the year 660, and embraced the monastic life at Jerusalem, from which city he sometimes takes his name. Hence he was sent on ecclesiastical business to Constantinople, where he became a Deacon of the Great Church, and Warden of the Orphanage. His first entrance on public life does no credit to his sanctity. During the reign of Philippicus Bardanes, (711-714) he was raised by that usurper to the Archiepiscopate of Crete; and shortly afterwards was one of the Pseudo-Synod of Constantinople, held under the Emperor's auspices in A.D. 712, which condemned the Sixth Oecumenical Council, and

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restored the Monothelite heresy. At a later period, however, he returned to the faith of the Church, and refuted the error into which he had fallen. Seventeen of his Homilies, rather laboured than eloquent, remain to us: that in which he rises highest is, not unnaturally, his sermon on S. Titus, Apostle of Crete. He died in the island of Hierissus, near Mitylene, about the year 732.

As a poet, his most ambitious composition is the Great Canon; which, partially used during other days of Lent, is sung right through on the Thursday of Mid-Lent week, called, indeed, from that hymn. His Triodia in Holy Week, and Canon on Mid-Pentecost, are fine; and he has a great variety of spirited Idiomela scattered through the Triodion and Pentecostarion.

STICHERA FOR GREAT THURSDAY.

8,7,8,7,8,7

Andrew of Crete

to mega musthrion.

O the mystery, passing wonder,

When, reclining at the board,

"Eat," Thou saidst to Thy Disciples,

"That True Bread with quickening stored:

"Drink in faith the healing Chalice

"From a dying GOD outpoured."

Then the glorious upper chamber

A celestial tent was made,

When the bloodless rite was offered,

And the soul's true service paid,

And the table of the feasters

As an altar stood displayed.

CHRIST is now our mighty pascha,

Eaten for our mystic bread:

Take we of His broken Body,

Drink we of the Blood He shed,

As a lamb led out to slaughter,

And for this world offered.

To the Twelve spake Truth eternal,

To the Branches spake the Vine:

"Never more from this day

Shall I taste again this wine,

Till I drink it in the kingdom

Of My FATHER, and with Mine."

Thou hast stretched those hands for silver

That had held the immortal Food;

With the lips that late had tasted

Of the Body and the Blood,

Thou hast given the kiss, O Judas;

Thou hast heard the woe bestowed.

CHRIST to all the world gives banquet

On that most celestial Meat:

Him, albeit with lips all earthly,

Yet with holy hearts we greet:

Him, the sacrificial Pascha,

Priest and Victim all complete.

[In Mr. Young's book. Melody of Pange lingua, harmonised by Dr. Schroeder. I may add that I purposely chose this Stanza to suit the melody of S. Thomas's great bymn.]