April is the month of Genocide remembrance. The Armenian Genocide (1915-1922), Holocaust and the Rwandan Genocide are all remembered during the month. On this last day of April, I wish to share with you a writing from the late, and great, Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. From a cell in Birmingham Jail where he was being held for civil disobedience, he writes to the religious leadership about civil disobedience:
Of course, there is nothing new about this kind of civil disobedience. It was seen sublimely in the refusal of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego [Daniel 3] to obey the laws of Nebuchadnezzar because a higher moral law was involved. It was practiced superbly by the early Christians, who were willing to face hungry lions and the excruciating pain of chopping blocks before submitting to certain unjust laws of the Roman Empire. To a degree, academic freedom is a reality today because Socrates practiced civil disobedience.
We can never forget that everything Hitler did in Germany was “legal” and everything the Hungarian freedom fighters did in Hungary was “illegal.” It was “illegal” to aid and comfort a Jew in Hitler’s Germany. But I am sure that if I had lived in Germany during that time, I would have aided and comforted my Jewish brothers even though it was illegal. If I lived in a Communist country today where certain principles dear to the Christian faith are suppressed, I believe I would openly advocate disobeying these anti-religious laws.
I must make two honest confessions to you, my Christian and Jewish brothers. First, I must confess that over the last few years I have been gravely disappointed with the white moderate. I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro’s great stumbling block in the stride toward freedom is not the White Citizens Councillor or the Ku Klux Klanner but the white moderate who is more devoted to order than to justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice; who constantly says, “I agree with you in the goal you seek, but I can’t agree with your methods of direct action”… Shallow understanding from people of good will is more frustrating than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will. Lukewarm acceptance is much more bewildering than outright rejection.
—
During the Sacrament of Penence in the Armenian Church we confess: I have also sinned against all the Commandments of God, both against the affirmative ones and the restrictive ones, because I have not stayed away from what is forbidden, but neither have I done what was expected.
As important as it is to not do evil, it is just as important to do the good – the right.
This finishes our April lessons in Armodoxy.
The prayer of St. Francis of Assisi is always important to remember:
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace. Where there is hatred, let me bring love. Where there is offence, let me bring pardon. Where there is discord, let me bring union. Where there is error, let me bring truth. Where there is doubt, let me bring faith. Where there is despair, let me bring hope. Where there is darkness, let me bring your light. Where there is sadness, let me bring joy. Amen
https://epostle.net/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/DALL·E-2024-04-29-21.28.58-Expressive-oil-painting-of-having-courage-in-the-armenian-church.png10241024Vazken Movsesianhttps://epostle.net/wp-content/uploads/2022/07/final_logo_large_for_epostle_web-300x189.pngVazken Movsesian2024-04-30 00:01:532024-04-29 21:31:13The sin of not doing
The Theology of the Armenian Apostolic, and therefore Orthodox, Church is embedded in its hymns. The hymn, referred to as Sharagan, holds a wealth of ancient wisdom that is a treasury preserved for us from the time of Christ. Over a thousand hymns are compiled into a book called the Sharagnots, which describes the fellowship between God and His creation.
Access to the Sharagnots is complicated by the language in which the hymns are written, and while there are translations from the Classical Armenian to the colloquial language and even to non-Armenian languages, the mystical flavor of the Church is tied in with the melodies of the chants as well as the sacred environment where they have taken form. Inside of a monastery or a church, within the incense filled space and candle-smoked walls, the words of the shargans dance to the rhythms of monastics vocal cords and theology is deciphered and delivered holistically.
The last sharagan was written in 2015, at the 100th anniversary of the beginning of the Armenian Genocide. On April 24, 2015, the martyrs of the Genocide were canonized and are referred to as a Saints.
The translation of the Sharagan, opens a window into the understanding of the martyrs as saints.
“Astonished and appalled were the heavenly armies and with terror were petrified,” begins the sharagan, and continues to describe the desecration of God’s holiness by using the unique and singular pointer of Eden to Armenia.
“The nations upon seeing the ancient Eden, changed into the scene and arena of fire, blazing like Hell, of the passion of Cain, and the new sacrifice of this new Abel, whose blood speaks forever.
The Sharagan ends with the question posed earlier by the Psalmist and be humankind for millennia, “Sovereign Lord, holy and true! How long will it be until You judge the inhabitants of the earth and avenge our blood?”
Let us pray, Lord our God, allow me to celebrate the Mystery of Life, with my soul, my voice, and all my senses. Help me as I accept Your invitation to follow with my heart and accordingly decipher the instruction of Love. Amen.
https://epostle.net/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/IMG_9056.jpeg18671697Vazken Movsesianhttps://epostle.net/wp-content/uploads/2022/07/final_logo_large_for_epostle_web-300x189.pngVazken Movsesian2024-04-29 00:01:262024-04-28 16:23:32Deciphering the Hymn
Fr. Vazken’s speech at the Genocide Commemoration VIGIL at UCLA sponsored by the ASA’s for USC & UCLA
Good evening. I would like to thank the ASAs of both USC and UCLA for this opportunity to offer my voice to this vigil this evening.
As the years move on, we are distanced from the link that ties us. When I would first come to these Genocide commemorations as a kid, the front rows would be occupied by survivors. My grandparents would sit in those chairs and were given chances to share their eyewitness accounts of the mayhem in Armenia circa 1915. The front rows became one row and then dwindled to a few chairs as the eyewitness generation passed away. They were replaced with the documentarians – those who had filmed, recorded or written the stories of the survivors.
This morning, at 9AM, I’m pleased and proud to tell you that the Epostle.net – electronic ministry of the Western Diocese, unveiled and launched the first ever immersive exhibition of its kind that is accessible from anywhere, 24/7/365 days a year, named the Spirit of Ararat. Here stand structures from khatchkars to monasteries, to songs of the heart, demonstrating the human spirit of creativity of the people of Ararat, preserved in Web 3.0, metaverse, 360, spatial audio and photogrammetry, items that can only be experienced and enjoyed and can no longer be damaged or the destroyed. Thank you technology and Epostle for exploiting the power of human creativity.
So now, thankfully, there are more and more volumes and documents that share the horrors of genocide. But sadly, the word Genocide is still being used to describe man’s ultimate intolerance for his fellow man,
But today we gather in vigil because the human heart is hurting. 1915 was the beginning of a wave of evil that continues through today. For us as Armenians we felt it because of the injustice we endured when we became the political pawn of governments. What happened in Artsakh last September is a continuation of the same evil, and the same silence of the world.
Graphic: SEE no evil, HEAR no evil, SPEAK no evil.
In 2006 I had a chance to visit Rwanda with a small group of educators from the University of Southern California. It was a decade after a genocide ravaged the country and claimed 800,000 people in the course of 100 days.
It was an important trip for me to take. I grew up hearing the stories of genocidal crimes told to me by my grandparents. The more I heard, the more I read, the more I wanted to know how such a violent and heinous crime could be committed so overtly, especially in the modern world, where understanding seemed to be common goal. I figured, by going to Rwanda, ten years after the Rwanda Genocide, might be like going to Armenia ten years after the Genocide I had heard so much about. What might have I found in 1925?
What I found was more than I could have asked for. Not only the answers to my questions but also I found an answer to the meaning of the Armenian Genocide for me as a person living 100 years after the event.
The stories of the Rwandans were remarkably similar to the stories that I heard from my grandparents. Police coming in the night, taking away and slaughtering the men, raping the women, killing of children, blatant exhibitions of cruelty and killing, without hints of remorse. Armenians referred to the Euphrates River as the Red Euphrates while Rwandans referred to Nile as the Red Nile because of the all the blood and bodies that were flowing through the rivers veins. Rwanda made me color blind, because the only difference between myself and my story and the Rwandan story was the color of our skins. And that is no difference. I realized that our pain, our suffering is our commonality and the common thread throughout human history. We are all children of the same God. Divisions we create, they are of our own doing.
In Rwanda, I found myself in a rather unique position of straddling, so to speak, the first and last genocides of the 20th Century. There, in the capital city of Kigali, is a museum dedicated to genocide. It houses a permanent exhibit dedicated to the Armenian Genocide, as well as to all genocides of 20th century.
The Armenian Genocide is the “granddaddy” of them all. The exhibition showed, sadly, and tragically, Genocides continued in Germany, Ethiopia, Bosnia, Cambodia, Rwanda and even into the 21st Century in Darfur.
The stories are all the same. And the Armenian story has a special place and meaning for the world, because it is the prototype for intolerance, hatred and ultimately Genocide. As a successor to the Armenian Genocide survivors the responsibility is mine. If I am going to refer to the Armenian Genocide as the first, then I – we – have a responsibility to be the first to call out, the point to, to actively protest and work for understanding that leads to peace. If the world is silent, let’s point the first finger at us – are we voicing our objection to what is happening to others?
Faith implies actions. You cannot mourn a genocide without actively fighting against one. But that fight has to be on new terms. You can’t fight fire with fire, you’ll only get more fire. Fight fire with a hose. With water. Put it out.
The time has come for us to toss out the victim mentality. We’re in the Easter season and we claim to be followers of the Resurrected Christ. We need to understand that the victory is ours. Not because politicians recognize Genocide or not. Don’t fool yourself, we don’t need any validation or the authentication of the fact of genocide, just as African Americans don’t need proof of slavery or Japanese American don’t need to prove their restraint in internment camps. The Armenian Genocide is a reality and always has been. We are victorious because we are here, not because of politics, but by the miracle that has made us arrive alive and creating our tomorrows. We side and will side wherever there is injustice or evil. Whether in Gaza, in the Congo, or in Armenia, we are here to proclaim these are humanitarian issues and we are always on the side of humanity!
April 24 is a date to renew a vow to work for peace, through understanding, vigilance and love toward all of humanity.
The Armenian Church’s prayer for the day is, Christ, who crowns the saints, willingly take those who are in awe of you and look with love and sweetness on your creation. With Your holiness hear us, by the intercession of the Holy Asdvadzadzin and the supplications of all your saints, especially the holy martyrs of the Armenian Genocide who completed their life for Faith and the homeland. Hear us and have mercy. Amen.
As the years move on, we are distanced from the link that ties us Genocide. When I would first come to these Genocide commemorations as a kid, there would be a stage area where the program would take place, and below it was a few rows of chairs where the Genocide survivors would sit. My grandparents would sit in those chairs and were given chances to share their eyewitness accounts of the mayhem in Armenia circa 1915. The front rows became one row and then dwindled to a few chairs as the eyewitness generation passed away. They were replaced with the documentarians – those who had filmed, recorded or written the stories of the survivors.
This morning, at 9AM, I’m pleased and proud to tell you that the Epostle.net – electronic ministry of the Western Diocese, unveiled and launched the first ever immersive exhibition of its kind that is accessible from anywhere, 24/7/365 days a year, named the Spirit of Ararat. Here stand structures from khatchkars to monasteries, to songs of the heart, demonstrating the human spirit of creativity of the people of Ararat, preserved in Web 3.0, metaverse, 360, spatial audio and photogrammetry, items that can only be experienced and enjoyed and can no longer be damaged or the destroyed. Thank you technology and Epostle for exploiting the power of human creativity.
So now, thankfully, there are more and more volumes and documents that share the horrors of genocide. But sadly, the word Genocide is still being used to describe man’s ultimate intolerance for his fellow man.
The time has come for a change, or a shift, in the way we operate. Faith implies actions. You cannot mourn a genocide without actively fighting against one. But that fight has to be on new terms. You can’t fight fire with fire, you’ll only get more fire. Fight fire with a hose. With water. Put it out.
The unfailing words of Jesus are our meditation for today. They challenge us to find a better way to combat evil.
“You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’ But I tell you not to resist an evil person. But whoever slaps you on your right cheek, turn the other to him also. If anyone wants to sue you and take away your tunic, let him have your cloak also. And whoever compels you to go one mile, go with him two. Give to him who asks you, and from him who wants to borrow from you do not turn away.” (Matthew 5)
Before you say it’s impossible, is it not worth a try?
Armodoxy for Today: And then there were two, three and four
In 2006 I had a chance to visit Rwanda with a small group of educators from the University of Southern California. It was a decade after a genocide ravaged the country and claimed 800,000 people in the course of 100 days.
It was an important trip for me to take. I grew up hearing the stories of genocidal crimes told to me by my grandparents. The more I heard, the more I read, the more I wanted to know how such a violent and heinous crime could be committed so overtly, especially in the modern world, where understanding seemed to be common goal of our world. I figured, by going to Rwanda, ten years after the Rwanda Genocide, might be like going to Armenia ten years after the Genocide I had heard so much about. Rwanda 2006 was my Armenia 1927.
What I found was more than I could have asked for. Not only the answers to my questions, but also I found an answer to the meaning of the Armenian Genocide for me as a person living 100 years after the event.
The stories of the Rwandans were remarkably similar to the stories that I heard from my grandparents. Police coming in the night, taking away and slaughtering the men, raping the women, killing of children, blatant exhibitions of cruelty and killing, without hints of remorse. Armenians referred to the Euphrates River as the Red Euphrates while Rwandans referred to Nile as the Red Nile because of the all the blood and bodies that were flowing through the rivers. Rwanda made me color blind, because the only difference between myself and my story and the Rwandan story was the color of our skins. And that is not a difference. In the stories you realize that our pain is our commonality. We are all children of the same God.
In Rwanda, I found myself in a rather unique position of straddling, so to speak, the first and last genocides of the 20th Century. There is a museum dedicated to genocide in the capital city. In it is a permanent exhibit dedicated to the Armenian Genocide, as there are exhibits to all the genocide of 20th century.
The Armenian Genocide is the “granddaddy” of them all. Sadly and tragically, Genocides continued in Germany, Ethiopia, Bosnia, Cambodia and even into the 21st Century in Darfur. The Armenian story has a special place and meaning for the world, and as a successor to the Armenian Genocide survivors the responsibility is mine. If I am going to refer to the Armenian Genocide as the first, then I have a responsibility to be the first to call out, the point to, to actively protest and work for understanding that leads to peace. In other words, just as the case is in Christianity, faith implies actions. You cannot mourn a genocide without actively fighting against one.
April 24 is a date to renew a vow to work for peace, through understanding, vigilance and love toward all of humanity.
The Armenian Church’s prayer for the day is, Christ, who crowns the saints, willingly take those who are in awe of you and look with love and sweetness on your creation. With Your holiness hear us, by the intercession of the Holy Asdvadzadzin and the supplications of all your saints, especially the holy martyrs of the Armenian Genocide who were martyred for Faith and the homeland. Hear us and have mercy. Amen.
https://epostle.net/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Screenshot-2024-04-23-232033.png448650Vazken Movsesianhttps://epostle.net/wp-content/uploads/2022/07/final_logo_large_for_epostle_web-300x189.pngVazken Movsesian2024-04-24 00:01:082024-04-23 23:24:35Genocide: Then there were two, three and four…
On April 24, Armenians throughout the world take a pause to remember the most heinous of all evil, Genocide. In 1915 a program of systematic annihilation began. The target was the Armenian people, and the perpetrator was the Ottoman Turkish government. One and a half million Armenians were slaughtered, in what is the first Genocide of the 20th Century. And about the same number of people were exiled from their homeland.
April 24 is the date of the Genocide remembrance because it was on that date in 1915 that the Armenian leadership was rounded up, killed or deported in Constantinople, what is referred to as Istanbul today.
One of the architects of the Genocide is noted for saying that when they finished, there would be one Armenian left in the world and that Armenian would be in a museum.
Over a century after the Genocide, Armenians are still around, living, creating and the celebrating life.
Days ago, we celebrated the victory of the life over death, with the Resurrection of Jesus. We read the words of the angels, (Luke 24) “Why do you seek the living among the dead?”
A proper remembrance of the Armenian Genocide includes both the Crucifixion and the Resurrection, whether of Jesus or of the Armenian Nation.
Armodoxy is here to attest to his complete lesson in victory.
We pray, Lord Jesus Christ, you overcame evil with the good, and resurrected from the crucifixion, allow me to remember the pain of genocide and work towards an end to this evil and remind me to keep focused on the resurrection, and note the life that is a testament to Faith. Amen.
Cover photo: Luna & Gregory Beylerian
https://epostle.net/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/AQDC4052-1.jpg1000750Vazken Movsesianhttps://epostle.net/wp-content/uploads/2022/07/final_logo_large_for_epostle_web-300x189.pngVazken Movsesian2024-04-23 00:01:242024-04-22 22:18:37Remember Both
On April 19, 2015 I conducted the last requiem service for the Martyrs of the Armenian Genocide. That year was the 100th anniversary of a program of systematic annihilation of the Armenian population in the Ottoman Empire. The Armenian Church announced that on April 24, 2015, it would canonize the martyrs of the Genocide as saints of the Church. The April 24 date has always been used as a marker for the Genocide remembrance for it was on that date in 1915 that the Armenian leadership was rounded up, killed or deported in Constantinople, what is referred to as Istanbul today.
Designating the martyrs as saints was long over due by the 100th anniversary. Martyrdom implied that their life was given for higher principles, in this case for Christ and nation. But even more, the shift to sainthood was a change in mind-set for the Armenian nation. As saints, the martyrs are classified as “victorious in Christ” and therefore, not victims.
“If anyone desires to come after Me,” says Jesus, “Let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow Me. For whoever desires to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for My sake will find it.” (Matthew 16)
Requiems, a tradition misleadingly referred to as hokehankist in the Armenian Church, are not conducted for saints. They have been crowned by Christ!
On that Sunday, in 2015, I had the distinct honor of celebrating the Divine Liturgy at the St. Leon Armenian Cathedral of the Western Diocese. It was the western most Armenian Church and the delayed timing of the day, had me reciting the Martyrs of the Armenian Genocide in the requiem prayer for the very last time ever. Having grown up with Genocide survivors (my grandparents) this was a most sacred moment in history.
In the days that followed the conversation would shift in a manner that only Christ can change. Christ, the one who took the words of condemnation “Take and eat” in the Garden, and madse those same words “Take and eat” into words of salvation, was now leading the Armenian nation to victory. The mind-set had been altered.
Let us pray, Lord, our God, You are with us in every transition and change. Open our hearts to the great change from victim to victor, which You demonstrated with Your glorious Resurrection. Help me to accept the change and welcome the newness of that victory. Amen.
Cover Photo: Luna & Gregory Beylerian
https://epostle.net/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/DSC02571.jpg6671000Vazken Movsesianhttps://epostle.net/wp-content/uploads/2022/07/final_logo_large_for_epostle_web-300x189.pngVazken Movsesian2024-04-22 00:01:082024-04-21 21:54:45The Last Requiem
