The shoreline is always safer than the waters that carry the boat beyond the horizon, unless, of course, the shore is susceptible to erosion, tide wave, or the squabble of men in war. Granted, there are safe and dangerous conditions connected to every decision we make.
The Christian is called to a life of productivity, using their talents to the best of their ability. This direction forward can be stifled by fears brought upon by past experiences. Theologian and philosopher Søren Kierkegaard writes, “Life must be understood backward. But it must be lived forward.”
The gentle balance between learning from the past, and living for the day is Jesus’ message, “Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.” (Matthew 6:34) Today’s one minute in standard time.
We pray from the Armenian Book of Hours, the morning prayer, We thank You, O Lord our God, who granted us restful sleep in peace. And being awakened, caused us to worship Your awesome and glorified holy name. Grant us to pass the remainder of the day in peace. Living our lives with pure behavior in this world, may we reach the peaceful haven in eternal life. Amen.
Armodoxy has developed in a land and among a people that have not known peace for long stretches of time. Armenia, at the intersection of three continents, Africa, Europe and Asia, has been trampled on by invaders, barbarians and would-be conquerors.
Sunday after Sunday in the Armenian Church, there is a “question-and-answer” session which takes place during the Divine Liturgy. This Q&A has been going on for centuries. The deacon, with the chalice in hands, approaches the priest and asks that the doors be opened for the “King of glory.” The priest asks, “Who is this King of glory? The Lord strong and mighty, the Lord mighty in battle?” The questioning continues and upon his second inquiry, the deacon announces, “This is the King of glory!” and hands-off the chalice for the priest to prepare the Holy Eucharist.
It was the Psalmist who first framed the dialogue on behalf of a hurting world (Psalm 24:8-10). And it has been heard and overheard from altar areas ever since, during times of trouble, persecution and war.
Priest: Who is the King of glory… mighty in battle?
Deacon: This is – He is – the King of glory!
Wars are won and wars are lost but in the case of Armenia, the number losses far outnumber the wins, prompting a more appropriate question: Who is this King, so mighty in battle, that the war was lost? Perhaps not as an audible chants by the deacon, but definitely in the solitude of the mind. Ultimately, what does it mean to proclaim God as almighty – mighty in battle – in the face of horrific tragedies that we endure?
In Holy Scripture, time and time again, we find our Lord Jesus teaching by example. When a tragedy befalls another, he touches them with his love and asks us to do the same. During the Divine Liturgy, the deacon is heard inviting people to worship. He beckons the congregation to stand in peace, to pray fervently, to listen in awe, to prepare themselves and to approach the Blessed Sacrament. Simply put, he calls everyone to celebrate the victory of Christ. His pronouncement “He is the King of glory!” is a response to the priest’s question and at the same time it is an invitation for us to engage in the Kingdom which is in our midst.
“The kingdom of God does not come with observation,” says Christ our Lord, “Nor will they say, ‘See here!’ or ‘See there!’ For indeed, the Kingdom of God is within you.” (Luke 17:20-21)
“The King of glory mighty in battle,” is the answer the Deacon proclaims to the priest and in-turn to all of us, every Sunday. We are invited to explore, engage and discover the King of glory for ourselves, “mighty in battle” who is here answering us, our sufferings, our dilemmas, and our wars, by touching us with his love and compassion. By accepting the invitation, we engage in the Kingdom of God. We accept a call to personal and community responsibility to extend ourselves. Indeed, the Kingdom of God is within us!
The Q&A, the Divine Liturgy and hence, our Church is calling us to this higher understanding of our Christian Faith, as members of the Kingdom, to engage in the struggles and sufferings that are all around us, not with a question but with the solid answer: He is the King of glory, mighty in battle.
Today we pray from the Lords prayer, “Our Father, may your kingdom come, may Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” Amen.
https://epostle.net/wp-content/uploads/2024/11/a-picture-without-the-angelic-tone.jpg10241024Vazken Movsesianhttps://epostle.net/wp-content/uploads/2022/07/final_logo_large_for_epostle_web-300x189.pngVazken Movsesian2024-11-18 00:01:592024-11-17 16:50:38Mighty in Battle? Really?
Saints come in all shapes and sizes. That might sound like an odd way to bring attention to the elite class of the Church, but each saint has a unique story that helps us in our Christian journey through life.
Andrew was the first-called disciple of Christ, in Armenian he’s referred to as Nakhagoch. He was the one who accepted the call of Jesus. Throughout Scripture we read that he invited others to follow, most notably is his older brother, Peter, who went on to be the Apostle to, and the first Bishop of Rome.
Being the first takes a special and deep courage which is connected to inner strength but also to a commitment and belief that what you are following is absolutely and positively the correct path.
This weekend the Armenian Church celebrates St. Andrew Nakhagoch Disciple and Apostle of Christ, the first link on a movement that has changed the world.
Praying from the Book of Hours of the Armenian Church, With your Light, O Christ, we have all been enlightened, and in Your Holy Cross, O Savior, we take refuge. By the intercession of the Holy Apostle Andrew, hear us, O God our Savior, grant us peace, and show us Your mercy, Good Lord. Amen.
Pictured: St. Andrew icon on Ghazanchetsots before the Azeris destroyed and desecrated the image.
https://epostle.net/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/1min-Andrew-e1700191222856.jpg8301113Vazken Movsesianhttps://epostle.net/wp-content/uploads/2022/07/final_logo_large_for_epostle_web-300x189.pngVazken Movsesian2024-11-15 00:01:352025-06-17 20:56:38Andrew the First Called
The news came unexpectedly. No matter how much you prepare or how prepared you may be, the news of young death comes with an element of shock. So it was yesterday when we learned of our dear friend Chris’ death.
A week ago, to the day, we visited her in her hospital bed. The cancer diagnosis which she got a year earlier had now become the death sentence we all feared, but never wanted to admit. In the face of something as horrid as cancer, our defense mechanisms come into play. We refer to cancer in a variety of monikers, such as “The C word,” or “That Dreaded Disease,” to avoid using the word. But who are we fooling? Cancer is without conscience. Cancer doesn’t care whether you acknowledge it or not. We find convenient places to hide, especially when the stakes are so great, primarily because we don’t want to give up hope.
In the hospital room, we prayed. We read Jesus’ words from the Gospel of John, and ended with His proclamation, “As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world.” (9:5) We spoke and I administered the Holy Sacrament. Before leaving the room, I anointed her forehead and kissed it. I knew there was a power in that room – a power that would heal this beautiful lady.
Chris was a friend to so many. Never a cross word spoken, always with soft compliments in her mouth she would reflect her inner beauty. She was a cake decorator and executed her craft with elegance that captured her love for life. In our family we were fortunate to have sampled several of her creations on special occasions. She was a devout Christian, never boastful, never wearing it on her sleeve, but I know several people she helped without any expectation. Her assistance was based on the commandment her Lord had instilled in her heart. She believed in the mantra of walking in the shoes of others, she felt their pain, and became part of their lives, and a part of our ministry.
After we prayed in the hospital, we spoke briefly. I was sure I would see her out of the hospital, but I know even the best of plans are constrained by physical limits. In my forty plus years of ministry, I have seldom seen the type of genuine faith and trust in Christ that Chris displayed through her lifetime and especially that day, opposite her death sentence.
On this week following the feast of the Holy Angels, and in line with the critique that I gave yesterday, I will keep it real and not mention that heaven has a new angel, rather I will thank God for the angel that visited us here in her lifetime to share with us the message of love, life, hope and complete unconditional trust in God. We are one less listener of Armodoxy for Today. May God rest her soul.
We pray the requiem prayer of the Armenian Church, Christ our God, forbearing and compassionate, in Your love as our Creator, have mercy upon the souls of all Your creatures, especially on Your newly departed servant, Christine. Grant rest and mercy to her soul; and to us, sinners, grant forgiveness of our transgressions. Amen.
https://epostle.net/wp-content/uploads/2024/11/IMG_3670-scaled-e1731563899384.jpeg15661694Vazken Movsesianhttps://epostle.net/wp-content/uploads/2022/07/final_logo_large_for_epostle_web-300x189.pngVazken Movsesian2024-11-14 00:01:232024-11-13 22:03:59One Less Listener
One of the great disservices we do to our Faith is when we overdramatize or fictionalize the characters of our faith to the point that they represent a fantasy. Accordingly, they lose meaning and relevance for us.
This weekend the Armenian Church celebrated the feast of the Archangels Gabriel & Michael. The word angel means messenger. Angels are the ones who reveal a message to us. Think of all the different ways we have overdramatized angels, from Old Testament imagery to Church iconography, to stained glass windows, all the way to the Hollywoodization of angels with wings, harps, bows and arrows, white robes, halos, to the point that they enter the category of fantasy, and their purpose and message is forgotten.
The night Jesus was born, the angels brought a message: Peace on Earth, goodwill toward one another. That’s it. It was that simple. It’s what the message of Christianity has always been. This past week we had presidential elections. Along with the elections a narrative was given about Christianity, which all but missed the point of peace on earth and goodwill toward one another. Think of the many articles of Faith that get overdramatized. For instance miracles. Hollywood would have us believe that miracles occur with thunder and lightning, and while we’re looking up to the heavens for these spectacular sights, we miss the true miracle of a smile in our child’s eye, or that paper-like fingernail on a newborn that cannot be duplicated by any machine or person. In other words, we lose sight of real miracles when we downgrade the word to fantasy.
In the Armenian Church and in all of Christianity – an angel is a messenger – often sent by God to reveal a truth to us. The angel was sent to Mary to let her know that she is with Child of the Holy Spirit. We have no details of what that angel wore, what he looked like, what color his garments or skin color were. Nor do we know anything about his moral character, because that is not the point of the story. The story is to convey to us that Mary had found favor with God and would bear the Christ Child.
When our attention is grabbed by outward expressions such as wings and halos, we lose sight of the message and even worse, we lose contact with something very special. God is always talking to us but our receptors are so dull that we don’t hear. God’s messages are all around us. Our children, our parents, the flower in your garden, the beautiful landscape across the hills are messages sent to us daily.
When we make the images and the articles of faith bigger than life we don’t have a chance to interact – to dialogue. The entire point of religion is to engage us, make life – our existence and our world – into a better place. And this is why we reject the idea of jakatagir – fatalism.
In an old Los Angeles neighborhood stands the St. Sophia Greek Orthodox Cathedral. Today the neighborhood is made up of many different ethnicities. Across from the cathedral there is a big sign atop another building: We are each of us angels with only one wing, and we can only fly by embracing one another. (Luciano De Crescenzo). It is a beautiful expression of messengers engaging in a dialogue. We can fly only if we connect with one another.
A prayer from St. Gregory Datevatsi dedicated to angels, Radiant servants, who serve the everlasting uncreated Creator classes, thrones, Seraphims and Cherubims of Heavenly armies. Principalities, powers, governments, archangels and angels, Michael and Gabriel, heads of heavenly armies who ceaselessly glorify the Holy Trinity, sings “Have Mercy, O Creator, do not forsake, do not abandon Your creation.” Abet and protect the servants of God. Amen.
Few things made my father cry. Sarkis was one of them.
Sarkis is forever 20 in my head. He was killed in Vietnam on a day that I cannot forget. That day was one of renewal for the Armenians living in Los Angeles. It was the Summer of 1970 and for the first time a group of dancers and musicians had journeyed from Armenia to fill our hearts and souls with the ancient culture. We were at the Wilshire Ebell Theater and it was a crowd akin to a rock concert of today, with the same type of enthusiasm and joy. I think it was Levon Gasoyan dancing the Shepherd’s dance, when he demonstrated his acrobatic coordination, set to an Armenian tune and beat. It was the same dance I had seen Sarkis perform many times before his deployment to the war. Sarkis was part of the same ensemble in which my parents danced.
That afternoon in the Ebell theater Sarkis’ father loudly applauding and cheering the Armenian dancer, probably remembering his son as he watched this demonstration from the homeland. Ironically, was on that day, later, that we found out that Sarkis had died in a grenade attack.
The details didn’t matter to my dad. He’d never really talk about it to us. But we would see the pain in his eyes.
A couple of times a year, we would go to the Inglewood Park Cemetery in honor of family members that had passed away. Both my grandfathers’ graves are at this cemetery and later my grandmothers would join them there as well. There was a ritual we’d go through – purchasing flowers at the cemetery florist, driving to the grave, searching the tombstones amid the hundreds. We’d find one grandpa, clean the grave, place the flowers in the metal cup, say a prayer and listen while grandma would remember her husband. Then packing everyone in the car, we’d head over to our other grandfather’s grave. Same gestures of grave-cleaning, placing flowers, offering prayers, while the other grandma would have her turn to reflect here.
Before 1970, that was the end of the ritual. But things changed after Sarkis’ death. My dad would stop the car at Sarkis’ grave just before we left the park. We didn’t understand it quite well – after all, we were young kids. This dead person didn’t belong to our family. Why clean the grave? Place flowers? Offer a prayer? But as the saying goes, he who has the car keys makes the decision, and so we’d stop at this grave. There we would offer the same formula-prayer, but no grandma-talk, instead we’d see my dad cry. It was a silent witness to the big injustice of war. He couldn’t reconcile the notion of a young life being gone for a war no one understood. He’d shake his head. One time, I vaguely remember him saying something like “the grandpas died when they were old. There was no reason for Sarkis to die.”
We didn’t realize that there was more to my dad’s tears than Sarkis’ loss until many years later. It was at a local parade, when a group of military men – soldiers and veterans – marched by that my sister told me dad was crying away. He’d swell up with emotions over the loss of life during war.
My turn came at my dad’s funeral. I remember making it fairly well through the speeches and services both in the church and at the gravesite. But at the end of the service, when they removed Old Glory from the top of my dad’s casket, folded it and handed it to our mom, I lost it. They presented the flag to her saying, “This is for your husband’s service to his country.” My dad served in the Army during the Korean War. He never talked about it. He just was proud to be an American, understood the sacrifice to stay American and hurt that some people never had a chance to enjoy the fruits of their labor or sacrifice.
I know it was more than Sarkis that made him cry. It was the price of freedom. It was the nonsense of war. It was the injustice of the pick – the poor and naïve fought the wars brought about by the rich and educated.
This year on Veterans Day I heard on the news that the President placed a wreath at the tomb of the Unknown Soldier. The newscaster may or may not have taken a breath before reporting the next story that more funds are being requested for the ongoing wars in Ukraine and Israel.
Today is Veteran’s Day. We honor the Veterans of all wars. Formerly it was called “Armistice Day” marking the end of the First World War. Either way, it’s connected to something for which we need to find a solution for the sake of our tears, for the sake of our lives.
https://epostle.net/wp-content/uploads/2024/11/A-profile-of-an-old-ethnically-Armenian-man-close-up-on-his-face-with-a-subtle-tear.-An-American-flag-blows-in-the-background.jpg10241024Vazken Movsesianhttps://epostle.net/wp-content/uploads/2022/07/final_logo_large_for_epostle_web-300x189.pngVazken Movsesian2024-11-12 00:01:532024-11-11 21:11:42Dad’s Tears on Veterans Day
A veteran is a person who has had long experience in a particular field. Generically, we use the word to refer to military personnel, especially those who actively served in the military. The veteran is someone who loves country much more than his or her life. That is, the veteran is willing to lay down his or her life for the country, for something that is greater than the self.
In the Gospel of John (15), Jesus say, “Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” He is referring to his own sacrifice, and his words define true love as a function of selflessness. He places value on friendship (harmonious living with one another). That value is measured by life itself – a willingness to sacrifice life for the benefit of the greater good. The sacrifice made by veterans has the greatest value of anything or any action, because the measuring “currency” is more precious than silver, gold and even platinum. That’s why we refer to it as paying the ultimate price: life itself.
Veteran’s Day is celebrated today. It is yet another chance for self-evaluation. There is a simple test to take on this day. Ask yourself, what are the things that are most important to me? What are the things for which I would be willing to give up my life. Now ask yourself, if I’m willing to die for it, am I willing to live for it?
If we are willing to die for Christ, then the more important question we must ask ourselves is, am I willing to live for Christ? Armodoxy is the proof that living out Christian principles is much harder than dying for them.
We pray Psalm 27, The Lord is my light and my salvation, whom shalI I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid? One thing have I asked of the Lord, that will I seek after, “That I may dwell in the house of the Lord, that will I seek after; That I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord, and to inquire in His temple. Amen.
https://epostle.net/wp-content/uploads/2024/11/an-American-flag-standing-on-a-hill-with-men-and-women-silhouetted-saluting-the-flag.jpg10241024Vazken Movsesianhttps://epostle.net/wp-content/uploads/2022/07/final_logo_large_for_epostle_web-300x189.pngVazken Movsesian2024-11-11 00:01:482024-11-10 20:30:18Veterans’ Day
During elections, such as the one we just had in the United States, questions about democracy and freedom always surface. Democracy in America has been referred to as an experiment because there are so many variables at play that can influence the outcome. All of these variables come in the form of human decisions and reactions, which raises the number of possible results exponentially. The brilliance of the U.S. Constitution is that it puts into place a system of checks and balances. For about 250 years democratic principles of equal rights, general suffrage and government by the people have been tested and tried, retested and retried. The system is far from perfect, but still, the move forward is to strive for the “goal” as outlined by the Constitution.
The Declaration of Independence, signed in 1776, claims that “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.”
These words are beautifully and thoughtfully crafted at a time when independence was only a dream for a group who had escaped the tyranny and ties of the Crown. Within the Declaration of Independence cries of human suffering can be heard. True religion has advocated for human rights, and has been a voice for freedom and liberty, during oppressive history.
The Armenian Church has lived within monarchies, kingdoms, dictatorships, oppressive and barbaric regimes, and even through atheistic Soviet society. The Gospel Message of Christ is greater than any political ideology and must maintain its integrity despite the political climate of the age. The Gospel is a message of freedom is unlike any liberty that can be offered by governments or political entities. The Gospel is given to us by Jesus Christ, the Great Liberator. In the worst of situations, a person can be free. In the most lucrative and decorative lifestyles, a person may be imprisoned.
When reflecting on political realities and events that affect and ultimately control life, equality, oppression, human suffering and liberation, take a moment to first reflect on you – us – and our commitment to ideals greater than ourselves. What are the true restrictions that are placed on our lives? What is it that oppresses us? Where is our liberation?
The Armenian Church refers to the message of Jesus as “ansud khosdum,” that is, His words that cannot lie. In that context of absolute truth, the Armenian Church has presented His message, I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly. (John 10:10) Put the pieces together and you realize that that abundance is beyond physical measurements. It is in this central message of Liberation that the Armenian Church – Armodoxy – came to guide and direct the people through suffering and oppression. The greatest expression of Liberty is when we use our God-given power to create our own lives.
We pray today, Heavenly Father, bless those who bless you. Give wisdom to those who lead. Keep us vigilant in our commitment to pursue that which is necessary, namely life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Keep us focused on our commitment to work for peace on earth, harmony and understanding between us and our fellow human being. Amen.
In one of his campaign speeches, Vice Presidential nominee, Tim Walz, reminded us of a nice tradition that exists at the end of team sports. At the end of a game, one team wins, and another loses, yet both teams find their way to the middle of the playing field and acknowledge their opponent with a handshake or hand bump, while proclaiming “Good game” as they pass by the person that had perhaps tackled them or fouled a ball out of their hand. Walz, who was a high school teacher and coached the football team, said that this tradition promoted sportsmanship. At the end of the game, both teams acknowledge one another with the words “Good game.”
Soccer and water polo were the games of choice in our house. I remember several times when I watched my kids play hard and play their hearts out against a team only to lose. You could tell that the thought of going up to their opponent and saying “Good game” was uncomfortable and verging on protest. But the rules of the league prevailed, and we’d watch the kids go through this ritual and we parents would soon follow the line and nod to the parents on the other team. Sometimes when the competition was extremely fierce and you’d watch the other parents humiliate themselves and their children by yelling and screaming on the side lines, you really didn’t feel like shaking hands with these people, but, what’s good for the children is also good for the parents. And so, we’d offer a Good-Game-bump to our counterparts. It was a simple lesson in sportsmanship that we all knew was necessary as a lesson in life.
As the elections came to a close yesterday, one candidate reached out to the other and conceded the election. Her concession remarks were dignified and reminded me of the way things used to be.
There is nothing uniquely Christian about dignity, sportsmanship, or courtesy. These traits belong to the family of humanity. They are classified under civility and by definition are the foundation of civilization – our ability to work together. In Armenian, kaghakavar or kaghakagrtutiun comes from the same root word, civil. As Armodoxy attests, the message given to us at the beginning of Christ’s ministry is heard from the angels, “Peace on Earth, Goodwill toward one another.” The purpose of all true religion is to seek harmony and understanding among people. And ours is to be a reminder of this simple truth – perhaps with a handshake, or a hand bump, or simply to acknowledge another by proclaiming, You played a good game.
From the Book of Hours of the Armenian Church we pray, Peace and life, Only Begotten Son of God, give us Your peace, that You grant to Your holy apostles by breathing into them Your life-giving and all-powerful Holy Spirit, so that having found our peace from worldly commotions, we may become a temple and an inhabitation of Your grace, and may give thanks to You together with the Father and Holy Spirit. Amen.
After I turned in my ballot today, the attendant gave me a sticker with the words, “I VOTED” in large white caps screaming patriotically across a back drop of red and blue. In much smaller print, the same statement was made in 15 other languages, including Armenian – Ես քվեարկել եմ – and as if that small bit of reinforcement for my action was not enough, the attendant then turned to me and said, “Thank you for voting.”
I’m very observant when it comes to manners and appreciate a “please” here and a “thank you” there, but this “Thank you for voting” seemed a bit out of place, just enough to get my mind wandering. And thank you for working at the polling place, right? Why wouldn’t I vote? I’ve been voting since I turned 18 and my grandmother gave me an application, ordering me to fill it out. Voting was serious business for her!
All four of my grandparents were genocide survivors. They arrived on the shores of the United States in the 1920s after being exiled from their homes in historic Armenia. They left the oppressive regime of the Ottoman Turks. They lost parents, children and family members in violent and inhumane acts perpetrated upon them during the Armenian Genocide between 1915 and 1923. America was a safe haven, a place where potentials could be exploited thanks to a freedom to pursue your dreams. They took their citizenship seriously and exercised their right to vote. It was always interesting to me, that they never took freedom for granted.
I remember my grandparents talking about America in grateful terms. America has no obligation to us, they would say, and yet, she opens her doors and gives us an opportunity to live and prosper in peace. Long before Kennedy phrased it, that early generation of immigrants lived it: Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country. And they did. They lived, worked, struggled, paid their taxes, served in the military, and took any opportunity they could to thank God for America. I wondered if my grandparents had read those Armenian words on the sticker would have felt that now they had arrived? Or perhaps they would have taken it more in stride and wondered why all the fuss? Of course, we voted!
Throughout the election season, I often thought of my grandparents, their generation and the America which gave them sanctuary. I cross compared their attitudes and now ours, and just how much we take for granted. I also thought of the great American experiment and how fragile it is, and can it survive being taken for granted?
Today as we pray, our prayer is no different than any other that I’ve taught here on Armodoxy for Today. It’s not about God interceding and helping our economy or shielding us against bombs, it’s a prayer for wisdom forus – the people who live and work here – to wake up and never take this freedom for granted; to build up this sanctuary which houses hopes and gives opportunities for dreams. It’s in our hands.
From St. Nersess Shnorhali’s 11th hour of worship, Jesus, Wisdom of the Father, grant us your wisdom, to think, speak and do that which is good in your sight. Save me from evil thoughts, words and deeds. Have mercy on all your creatures and on me. Amen.
