08/17/2026
A few words about Anglican worship…
WHY DO WE SAY “KYRIE ELEISON” THREE TIMES?
Have you ever wondered why, in the liturgy, we say:
Lord, have mercy.
Christ, have mercy.
Lord, have mercy?
Where did this prayer come from? Why is it still said in Greek? Who started it? Why did Christians once say it nine times? And is all this repetition the kind of “vain repetition” Jesus warned against?
Kyrie eleison is Greek for “Lord, have mercy.” Christe eleison means “Christ, have mercy.” No pope, council or famous bishop can be identified as the person who invented this prayer. Its roots are much older. They are found in Scripture itself.
In the Gospels, people repeatedly approached Jesus with this cry. The blind cried, “Lord, have mercy on us.” The Canaanite woman cried, “Have mercy on me, O Lord, Son of David.” Before Kyrie eleison became a formal part of Christian liturgy, therefore, it was already the language of desperate people coming to Christ because they believed He was merciful.
But did its liturgical use come from the Eastern Church? Yes, as far as our surviving evidence shows. By the fourth century we find Kyrie eleison clearly used in the Greek-speaking East as a congregational response in litanies. The deacon would offer petitions for the Church, the world, the sick, travellers, those who suffered and others, and the people would repeatedly answer, “Kyrie eleison. Lord, have mercy.” The ancient Eastern pattern was not originally restricted to saying it three or nine times. It was the people's continuing response to the petitions being offered.
The practice eventually became established in Western Christianity too. By the time of Pope Gregory the Great around AD 600, the Kyrie was already part of Roman worship, although Gregory himself explained that the Romans used it somewhat differently from the Greeks. The West also developed the distinctive Christe eleison, “Christ, have mercy,” within the sequence.
And here is something fascinating. Even when Latin became the dominant language of Western worship, the Church did not translate these words into Latin. In the middle of a Latin Mass, Christians still sang: Kyrie eleison.
So this tiny Greek prayer remained like an ancient echo of the Greek-speaking Church inside Western worship.
But where did the number three come from? In Western Christianity, the Kyrie eventually developed into the familiar pattern:
Kyrie eleison.
Christe eleison.
Kyrie eleison.
Over time, Christians naturally recognised a Trinitarian resonance in this threefold structure. We should not, however, make it too mechanical by saying that the first “Lord” can refer only to the Father, “Christ” only to the Son and the final “Lord” only to the Holy Spirit. Jesus Himself is repeatedly called Lord in the New Testament. The deeper point is that the Church turns to the one God for mercy, and the threefold shape beautifully resonates with our faith in Father, Son and Holy Spirit.
But historically, the Western Church went even further. Each invocation came to be repeated three times:
Kyrie eleison, three times.
Christe eleison, three times.
Kyrie eleison, three times.
That produced the famous ninefold Kyrie, three times three. Christians later found rich Trinitarian symbolism in it, and this became the normal form of the Kyrie in the medieval Western Mass.
Now here is the interesting Anglican part.
Did Anglicanism originally reject the ninefold Kyrie? No.
The very first Book of Common Prayer of 1549 actually retained the old ninefold Kyrie in the Communion service. The congregation still prayed “Lord, have mercy,” “Christ, have mercy,” and “Lord, have mercy,” each three times.
So why did it disappear from the normal Anglican Communion service?
In 1552, Archbishop Thomas Cranmer substantially revised the Prayer Book. The standalone ninefold Kyrie was removed from that position and the Ten Commandments were introduced instead. But Cranmer did something very interesting. After each commandment, the congregation answered:
“Lord, have mercy upon us, and incline our hearts to keep this law.”
That pattern passed into the 1662 Book of Common Prayer and became deeply characteristic of classical Anglican worship.
Notice the irony.
Cranmer did not remove the ninefold Kyrie because repeating “Lord, have mercy” was supposedly unbiblical or vain repetition. In fact, after his revision, the congregation said “Lord, have mercy upon us” ten times, once after each Commandment!
What changed was not Anglican belief in repeated prayer. What changed was the liturgical setting. Cranmer connected the cry for mercy directly to hearing the Law of God. You hear God's commandment, recognise your failure and immediately pray:
“Lord, have mercy upon us.”
But you also add:
“and incline our hearts to keep this law.”
That is beautiful theology. We are not merely asking God to forgive what we have done wrong. We are asking Him to change our hearts so that we may live differently.
Mercy for our failure, and grace for our obedience.
So how did the shorter threefold Kyrie survive among Anglicans? It remained in other Prayer Book services, including Morning and Evening Prayer:
Lord, have mercy upon us.
Christ, have mercy upon us.
Lord, have mercy upon us.
Later Anglican liturgical revisions also restored the standalone Kyrie to Holy Communion, and modern Common Worship, for example, provides the familiar threefold form.
But is repeating it three times, nine times or even ten times contrary to Jesus' warning in Matthew 6:7?
No. Jesus condemned vain repetition, not repetition itself.
That distinction is important. In Gethsemane, Jesus prayed the same prayer again. Matthew tells us that He prayed “the third time, saying the same words.” The heavenly creatures cry “Holy, holy, holy.” Psalm 136 repeats “for his mercy endureth for ever” again and again. And when Bartimaeus was told to keep quiet, he cried out all the more, “Son of David, have mercy on me.”
Was Bartimaeus guilty of empty repetition? Certainly not. He repeated himself because his need was real.
That is the difference between repetition and vain repetition. You can say the Lord's Prayer once while your mind and heart are somewhere else, and it can become empty words. But you can also cry Kyrie eleison repeatedly from the depths of your heart, and every repetition can be genuine prayer.
And what exactly are we asking when we say, “Lord, have mercy”? We are asking for much more than forgiveness. We are saying, “Lord, look upon me with compassion. Forgive me. Help me. Heal me. Restore me. Save me. Do for me what I cannot do for myself.”
That is why this tiny prayer has survived for so many centuries. The bishop needs mercy. The priest needs mercy. The deacon needs mercy. The congregation needs mercy. The Church needs mercy. The world needs mercy.
So when you next hear:
Lord, have mercy.
Christ, have mercy.
Lord, have mercy,
do not rush through it as though it were merely another response printed in the service book.
You are praying words rooted in the Gospel. You are joining a prayer heard in the ancient Eastern Church. You are using Greek words that survived even in the Latin-speaking West. And as an Anglican, you are inheriting a prayer that passed through the ninefold Kyrie of the medieval Church, the 1549 Prayer Book, Cranmer's 1552 reforms, the 1662 Prayer Book and into Anglican worship today.
Sometimes the deepest prayer does not need many words.
Sometimes all the human heart can say is:
KYRIE ELEISON.
LORD, HAVE MERCY.
Let’s keep learning Anglicanism.