Basil Tea

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Armodoxy for Today: Basil Tea

One of the customs around the September celebration of the Holy Cross, is to pass out basil to the congregants. The feast is called the “Exaltation” or “Elevation” of the Holy Cross, recounting that the Holy Cross of Jesus was imprisoned by enemies of Christianity. When the Cross was recovered (7th century) it was raised in a procession to proclaim its freedom from captivity. Today, in the Armenian Church, the symbolic procession takes place, where a cross is elevated along with basil. As tradition tells us, when the Cross of Christ was found there was basil growing all around it. Contrary to what has been propagated by popular folk myth, there is no such thing as blessing basil on this feast. The basil merely is placed on the altar, decorating the altar crosses as a connection with the story of its loss and recovery.

The blessing that does take place is a product of the power of the Holy Divine Liturgy. This special mystical power of the Liturgy is not spoken about often enough. During the Holy Divine Liturgy of the Armenian Church, prayers are offered, the saints of the Church are remembered and asked to intercede for us, the sacred hymns from early centuries are chanted and sung, and the request of the faithful assembled are voiced or voicelessly heard, and the Holy Spirit is invoked to transform the bread and wine to the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ. The Presence of Jesus Christ Himself is at the Divine Liturgy! And so, in the Presence of Jesus Christ all become blessed and cleansed. Even more, the same Divine Liturgy has been celebrated in the church for years, decades and in some places for centuries. The incense which carries the prayers up to heaven, has been absorbed into the church walls, along with the prayers and hymns. Your parents, your grandparents, your great grands and theirs are all part of this celebration. The small piece of basil sitting on top of the altar, and everything in the Presence of God has now been blessed.

Early on in my ministry when I was serving at a parish in Cupertino, California one of the young men in our church succumbed to an illness which incapacitated him. He was hospitalized and went unconscious. The doctors did not know what to make of it. They administered tests but were confounded. They began feeding him intravenously because he no longer was accepting anything by mouth. His father, a devout and believing man notified me and asked that I pray for his son.

It was the Feast of the Cross and I was speaking to my grandmother on the phone. She was the greatest influence on my life. She lived two doors down from our house while growing up and since taking this pastorate in Cupertino, there were now 400 miles that separated us. But thanks to telephones – yes, landlines with dials – I’d stay in touch and would call her regularly, especially either before or after church services. That Sunday, we spoke and in the conversation I mentioned the plight of this young boy. As I spoke about him, I recalled that his father was from Los Angeles and, in fact, lived in the same neighborhood as my grandmother. I told her who he was and of course, she knew him and his family.

Without hesitation, she told me to take the basil from the Holy Divine Liturgy, boil it in water and take the “Basil Tea” to the boy in the hospital.

I did exactly as she told me. I put Basil Tea in a thermos. It was old-school, with the shiny glass innards and the plaid exterior with a screw-on cup on top. I rushed it to the hospital and kept it concealed under my raincoat. Yes, there was a degree of embarrassment walking into a modern hospital with an ancient remedy prescribed by granny.

At the hospital, we prayed and I gave tea to his father to administer to the boy. The tea was the first liquid (or solid) to enter his mouth in nearly two weeks.

The next morning I received a call. It was his father telling me that his son had come-to. He finished the thermos of tea and was now starting solids. The doctors and medical staff were amazed and dumbfounded.

The basil was definitely blessed, but so was everything else in the church. It is a simple lesson that Jesus teaches us, that life itself is a blessing. The sacred and holy are all around us, only asking us to acknowledge, not with a nod, but by living the blessing.

Let us pray, O Lord, Jesus Christ. You came to usher in the Kingdom of Heaven. Each of us, with our baptism through the Holy Font have become members of the Kingdom. Today I pray the prayer of the Holy Apostles, “Increase our faith” so that we may be worthy members of Your Kingdom, to see the Blessings that are around us. Amen.

Cover Photo: Courtesy of Vahe Sargsyan

Cross Translated

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Armodoxy for Today: Cross Translated

One of the greatest challenges faced by churches is one of relevance. It is a tricky issue because Jesus’ message is always relevant, but not always accessible.

The Feast of the Holy Cross, or the Exaltation of the Holy Cross is the last of the five major feast days of the Armenian Church during the calendar year. At the St. Leon, Srbots Ghevondyants Armenian Cathedral in Burbank, California, the Diocesan Primate, His Eminence Archbishop Hovnan Derderian celebrated the Divine Liturgy and offered a soul-stirring sermon which made the Holy Cross accessible to the overflow congregation that was assembled there that day.

The community in Glendale/Burbank area is made up largely of immigrants, seeking the security and freedom offered by the United States. Adjustment to the new country, especially after migrating from the Middle East is difficult. Unchecked, it is easy to get lost in the newly discovered freedoms and become a slave to materialism.

In referring to the Holy Cross, the sacrifice of Christ on the Cross and what it has meant to the Armenian people, Archbishop Hovnan reflected on the need for parents and families to place their hope and trust on the steady and sacred road to good living as prescribed by the Church, for centuries. He then read a letter from a very affluent and well-known entrepreneur, who in his mid 50s found himself on his deathbed struggling with an incurable and inoperable disease. The archbishop translated the letter to Armenian as he shared it with the congregation, I will read the original English. For this community, and I personally believe for many of us, it is exactly what is necessary today and always. Here then is the letter.

I have reached the pinnacle of success in business. In other people’s eyes my life is a success. However, aside from work, I’ve had little joy. At the end of the day, wealth is just a fact I’ve gotten used to.

Right now, lying on my hospital bed, reminiscing all my life, I realize that all the recognition and wealth I took so much pride in, has faded and become meaningless in the face of imminent death.

You can hire someone to drive your car or make money for you, but you can’t hire someone to stand sick and die for you.

Material things lost can be found again. But there is one thing that can never be found when it is lost: Life.

Whatever stage of life we are currently at, in time we will face the day the curtain closes.

Love your family, spouse, children and friends… Treat them right. Cherish them.

As we get older, and wiser, we slowly realize that wearing a $300 or $30 watch both give the same time whether we have a $300 or $30 wallet or purse, the amount inside is the same. Whether we drive a $150,000 car or a $30,000 car, the road and the distance are the same, and we reach the same destination. Whether we drink a $1,000 or $10 bottle of wine, the hangover is the same. Whether the house in which we live is 100 or 1000 square meters, loneliness is the same.

You will realize that your true inner happiness does not come from material things of this world. Whether you travel first class or economy class, if the plane crashes, you go down with it.

Therefore, I hope you realize, when you have friends, brothers and sisters, with whom you discuss, laugh, talk, sing, talk about north-south-east or heaven and earth, this is the real happiness!!

An indisputable fact of life: Don’t raise your children to be rich. Educate them to be happy. When they grow up, they will know the value of things and not the price.

Cover: Envato Elements

The Same Cross

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Armodoxy for Today: Elevating the Cross

The Cross is the symbol of Christ and Christianity. This devise of torture became the expression of victory over suffering and death. In the symbol of the Cross we find the expression of victory over defeat, life over death and the power of love to overcome hate. It is the symbol of Christianity because in Jesus Christ we see and understand the same, that is, victory over defeat, life over death and the power of love to overcome hate.

The Exaltation of the Holy Cross refers to an event which takes place in history. But Armodoxy demands that we take ownership of the events we celebrate. In traditional churches, such as the Armenian, Catholic or Orthodox Church, it is easy to be overwhelmed by the beauty of the event and lose sight of the purpose. The Exaltation of the Holy Cross points to the Cross of Christ.

In the town of Gyumri, Armenia, there is a church dedicated to the Holy Asdvadzadzin St. Mary. It is called Yot Verk, that is, “Seven Wounds” of St. Mary. One of those wounds refers to the Blessed Mother learning that her son is Crucified. Today, we are invited to stand as a witness to the Crucifixion, a witness to the awful and painful Cross.

Jesus is not an abstract figure in history. To St. Mary, he was her Son and Savior. In the Gospel of St. John we read that the Holy Mother was a witness to the Crucifixion from the foot of the Cross. (19:25) The excruciating pain of a mother watching her son being tortured along with criminals, is only a part of the story. Jesus was tried on trumped up charges; he became a scapegoat for humanity. The exercise today is to walk in the shoes of Jesus’ Mother, Mary. Can we sit at the foot of the Cross and look up. Against the backdrop of heaven, we imagine our brother, our sister, our mother, our father, our friend, our enemy, our son… who is being tortured, having life slowly drained from his body. The cries of Jesus are directed to all of us, “I thirst.” “Why have you forsaken me?” “Where is my mother?” Listen very carefully, and you’ll hear the same cries from Artsakh, the Congo, Darfur, from your back street, wherever injustice has taken charge. “I thirst.” “Why have you forsaken me?” “Where is my mother?”

For three hours, we sit and watch, only to note the innocent blood dripping next to us. We hear humiliating mockery from people that don’t even know us or our loved one. “He had it coming to him!” “He freed others, let him free himself.” “He said he believed in God, well where is his God now?” Finally, we hear the final gasp for breath and the words, “It is finished! Father, into your hands, I commend my spirit.” A silence which later will be referred to as deafening encircles us, forcing us to come to terms with the tremendous magnitude of our loss and the loss for humanity.

And now we open our eyes wide and understand that Jesus is not abstract. He does not belong to history but to all time. The refugee, the poor, the lame and blind, the weak, the downtrodden, the suffering and the oppressed are on the cross today and with our eyes wide open, we look up against the backdrop of heaven to see it is the same Christ on the Cross.

The Exaltation of the Holy Cross is a Feast of the Armenian Church because it pulls us in and connects us to Jesus and His Mission of caring for the lost, the lonely, the lame, the broken hearted and the suffering.

Let us pray, O Christ, You conquered the Cross and turned the instrument of torture into the symbol of our Salvation. You invited us to pick up the Cross and follow you. May we be inspired by the love and life you gave to all of us on the Cross, and in turn may we share the gift of life with others.  

Symbols

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Armodoxy for Today: Symbols

As humans we search for meaning. Alongside survival and reproduction, the human animal has a need to find meaning in life. Religion helps facilitate the search. In that search, sooner or later, we come to a point where our faculties cannot comprehend the vastness of life with all its intricacies.

In the Book of Sirach or Ecclesiasticus, the author begins with a preface to his search (1:1-8):

All wisdom is from the Lord, and with him it remains for ever.
The sand of the sea, the drops of rain, and the days of eternity—who can count them?
The height of heaven, the breadth of the earth, the abyss, and wisdom—who can search them out?
Wisdom was created before all other things, and prudent understanding from eternity.
The root of wisdom—to whom has it been revealed? Her subtleties—who knows them?
There is but one who is wise, greatly to be feared, seated upon his throne—the Lord.

After 43 chapters of intense descriptions of the wonders of the Lord and the heavens and earth, he comes to very simple conclusion:

We could say more but could never say enough;let the final word be: ‘He is the all.’
Where can we find the strength to praise him? For he is greater than all his works. (43:27-28)

Symbols help us understand that which cannot be expressed with words. Symbols can be presented to us in a variety of ways. Their meaning is ascribed by the person who confronts them.

Red, white and blue string are merely dyed fibers. Sewn together in stripes and stars, they take on a new meaning. They are the symbol of a country and all that it represents. Before the strings are sewn, they may be cut, torn, destroyed or thrown in the trash. But once they come together to make a flag, those dyed fibers represent something huge and great. To destroy or desecrate the flag is an expression of disrespect. The meaning of a symbol also changes with the times and the circumstance of the people. On the days following 9/11 in 2001, the flag flying over the rubble of the Twin Towers came to represent the unity and resolve of a nation against evil. The backdrop of the towers and the collective experience of the citizens brought further meaning to the flag.

The main symbol of Christianity is the cross. Two planks, placed perpendicular to one another, joined together, with a short headspace, longer leg area, and the horizontal plank dissected in its center constituting a left and right arm. Two planks of wood can be cut, whittled, and used as kindling in a fire, but create them in the shape of a cross, they now have a deeper meaning.

This Sunday, the Armenian Church celebrates the fifth and last feast day of the year: The Exaltation of the Holy Cross. After the crucifixion and resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ, the cross became an object of veneration.

The story of Exaltation can be found in all major Christian traditions. The Armenian Church celebrates four different feasts associated with the Holy Cross of Jesus, the main one being this Sunday’s Exaltation (or elevation) of the Holy Cross. The others are the Discovery (or finding) of the Cross, the Apparition of the Cross and the Holy Cross of Varak. This last one, the Cross of Varak, is unique to the Armenian Church and is celebrated two weeks following the Exaltation.

The Cross is a symbol. It means more than the two planks of wood which compose it. It is a symbol of victory over defeat, life over death and the power of love to overcome hate. It is the symbol of Christianity because in Jesus Christ we see and understand the same, that is, victory over defeat, life over death and the power of love to overcome hate.

Let us pray, O Christ, protector of the people, protect and shelter me under the shadow of your holy and precious Cross in peace. Delivery me from enemies invisible and visible so I may always glorify you with the Father and Holy Spirit. Amen.

Cover photo: How Thomas E. Franklin took the iconic 9/11 photo of firefighters (northjersey.com)

Happy Sunday Morning

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Armodoxy for Today: Happy Sunday Morning

Growing up in Southern California in the pre-1970s had its unique challenges regarding the preservation of ethnic identity, in particular Armenian identity. Technology assisted the effort through radio. Sadly, of the two different hour-long Armenian language radio programs, both broadcast at the same hour. Later, when television entered the unnecessary competition, it too selected the same hour: Sunday morning, at 10:00AM. It was the universally accepted time for Armenian church services and, I guess, a perfect time to grab the wandering and discontent Sunday morning souls. The grab for the sacred time slot continues today in the Armenian community with scouting programs and sporting events.

In those early days, we lived in Hollywood and attended the St. James Armenian Church. It was a trek to get there. We were a large family with two grandmothers in tow. We’d fill the station wagon and either mom or dad would drive us to church. The car radio, AM of course, had mechanical pull/push buttons for station selection. One of those buttons was set to KTYM, “1460 on everyone’s radio dial” as the jingle would say. The button was pushed only once-a-week, Sunday morning at 10:00 AM en route to church. I don’t think we ever tried, or dared to try, that station at any other time. But at 10:00 AM, we’d hear the station call letters and then the distorted sound of tribal drums playing “Armenian March” and the voice of “Happy Harry Hadegian.” He’d greet us with “A pleasant Sunday morning to all of you…” in both Armenian and English. And as a courtesy gesture, he’d play an Armenian hymn, a sharagan, to acknowledge that he recognized it was church time, and to appease the first Christian-nation audience.

For years, Sunday morning airwaves belonged to “Happy Harry.” And we, the listeners knew the drill. We’d tune in for an hour of “news, views and the best in Armenian entertainment,” as he would say, although we’d never make it to the end of that hour. We’d either arrive at our destination, or our attention had wandered off.

Happy Harry’s radio show became the background “noise” which filled up our space. We’d tune-in and tune-out, so to speak. But it is noted here that this was the first on-line virtual Armenian community. We were tied together by the voice of the happy announcer.

When the COVID-19 pandemic hit, in-person gatherings were forbidden and so Sunday mornings we developed on-line communities with the help of Zoom, YouTube or Facebook. At first, the number of followers was phenomenal. When I saw the number of hits of the early broadcasts hitting the 5,000 mark, I thought to myself what will we do after the pandemic? When in our lives had we seen this number of followers? Would streaming services be the way of the future?

But soon the novelty wore off and the streaming of church services was in the category of background noise. This is not to say there was disrespect for the service, but it was turned on and then forgotten. Perhaps in the background of Sunday brunch or watched with toast and jam and a cup of Joe.

There is a tradeoff here, and we need to be aware of it before confronting the reality of the day. A man once asked his priest if it was okay to smoke while he prayed. The priest answered, “Of course not, but you certainly may pray while you smoke.”

Broadcasting the Liturgy makes it accessible to a group of people who otherwise may not have the opportunity to join a service. I can vouch for the accessibility factor from these daily messages. It is remarkable and overwhelming to hear from listeners from the various locales that follow us. Yet, on the other hand, the Liturgy – Church itself – is about community, about coming together and celebrating God, Christ, the Eucharist. And the only one to confess whether they are smoking while praying or praying while smoking is the offeror of the prayer themself. So, today’s message comes as a memo of awareness. Thank God we have the technology to reach out. You will be the one to decide how the content is used.

Let us pray, All Benevolent and Almighty refuge and hope of the weak and the troubled, my Lord and my God, who created everything from nothingness protecting Your creation. Draw closer to me with Your unspeakable mercy and have mercy upon me. For you display compassion to those who yearn for You and heal them through your benevolence. Amen.

Cover photo: Envato Elements

Miyagi, Dad and Pythagoras

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Armodoxy for Today: Miyagi, Dad, and Pythagoras

A recent social media challenge asked to mention a line from a movie that would identify the movie. A few come to mind, but one in particular hit me: “Wax on. Wax off.” Ah yes, the Karate Kid! Mr. Miyagi taught the Karate Kid how to defend himself by assigning him mundane tasks such as waxing the car. “Wax on” with a rotation of the arm. “Wax off” with the rotation in the opposite direction. The Karate Kid didn’t understand the value of this practice, in fact, he resented learning it, until he put it to use in defending himself.

My father was a pharmacist, which in those days meant he was a chemist and all-around scientist. And so it surprised me when he took a look at my high school schedule of classes and suggested that I take, not a science elective, but typing. In fact, I thought it was silly. This was during a time when young girls made up the majority of the class, which was not a bad thing for the guys who dared to get in the class. I should mention that high school typing in the 70s was taught on manual typewriters – imagine a computer keyboard, where every key had to be pressed hard enough to trigger a small hammer, with a letter on it, to hit the paper, through an ink ribbon and make an impression. Usually the letters “o”, “b”, “d”, and a few others would have the centers punched out by the heaviness of the hammer, giving a feel to the paper of a Braille hand-out. I was not happy, but I promised my dad I’d try the class for one semester, which I did. When a few years later, my first parish landed me in Silicon Valley, during the rise of the computer revolution, I found I had a distinct advantage over everyone else, in that I knew how to touch type on a QWERTY keyboard! I was able to pump out material in high volume. Later I was invited to teach computing at our son’s elementary school.

In High School I excelled in mathematics. I was able to follow through to college Calculus. Geometry, however, was a stumbling block for me. I remember the Pythagorean Theorem in particular, memorizing it and wondering when, if ever, I would need to figure out the third side of a triangle. What practical application could this have for me? We have rulers, and other measuring instruments if I needed to find the missing side of three-sided objects. But I learned it just the same. Many years later, after our kids were born and we moved into a house with a backyard, I set out to build a picnic table. The table top was easy; hammering the boards together was fun. But when I got to the legs, I needed to angle them in an “X” shape to support the top. I put the planks of wood together only to find I needed to calculate the third side of this triangular shape. The Pythagorean Theorem to the rescue! We enjoyed that table for many years. It became a congregating spot for our family.

Thanks Mr. Miyagi, Dad, and Pythagoras. Yesterday we spoke about wisdom. Today we speak about the foundation, knowledge. The lessons in life aren’t always revealed to us at the time of learning. What may seem foolish or unnecessary are merely matters left for time to reveal. Time is the fourth-dimension factor that often confounds our understanding.

Jesus tells this parable, asking us to listen attentively, The kingdom of heaven is like a man who sowed good seed in his field; but while men slept, his enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat and went his way. But when the grain had sprouted and produced a crop, then the weeds also appeared. So the servants of the owner came and said to him, ‘Sir, did you not sow good seed in your field? How then does it have weeds?’ He said to them, ‘An enemy has done this.’ The servants said to him, ‘Do you want us then to go and gather them up?’ But he said, ‘No, lest while you gather up the weeds you also uproot the wheat with them. Let both grow together until the harvest, and at the time of harvest I will say to the reapers, “First gather together the weeds and bind them in bundles to burn them, but gather the wheat into my barn.”  (Matthew 13:24-30)

Dreams of the Heart

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Armodoxy for Today: Dreams of the Heart

The song played over the car radio speakers, and I reminisced about the first time I heard this tune. It was a song about reminiscing from a time when I had no need for such sentimental thoughts. But today, I was right in the grove: “Those were the Days” performed by Mary Hopkin. The song deals with reminiscence of both youth and romantic idealism: “Oh, my friend, we’re older but no wiser, for in our hearts the dreams are still the same… Those were the Days…”she sings.

There is much to reminisce on this 11th day of September, especially when we remember our world, pre-9/11. Yes, those were the days: I recall a naïve world of sorts. But even more, I ponder why we continue to make the same mistakes over and over again. Is it because we’ve grown older and yet no wiser? Is it really because our dreams have stayed the same?

Albert Einstein brought it down to a definition of insanity. He said doing the same thing over and over again, expecting different results was insane. Yes, that is “getting older but no wiser” to the nth degree. It is insanity. But we continue to opt for the same-old-same-old. We believe politicians, put our trust on material wealth, feel secure with weapons of destruction and believe in superstitious notions of lucky charms and pre-planned destiny. Why? Why have we grown older but no wiser? Is it because our dreams have stayed the same?

Jesus says “No one puts a piece from a new garment on an old one; otherwise the new makes a tear, and also the piece that was taken out of the new does not match the old. And no one puts new wine into old wineskins; or else the new wine will burst the wineskins and be spilled, and the wineskins will be ruined.  But new wine must be put into new wineskins, and both are preserved.” (Luke 5:36-38)

The Christian message is a radical departure from anything else. Why else do we call the entrance into the Christian life, as a new birth? We are born anew from the womb of the Church – the Holy Font of Baptism – and thus enter a new life. Our new life cannot be put into the old holding tank. New life demands that we assess our dreams and evaluate them in the context of our new life. There will be cases where the dreams may be different and at times our dreams may remain the same. However, what does change when we encounter Christ, is a change of heart. Within that changed heart, the place of our dreams will guide us to seek solutions not without, but within. After all, we all know that the first step to actualize a dream is to wake up.

9/11 was a terror attack on the United States. It wasn’t the first and it won’t be the last. Terror is the means by which humans are controlled in places such as Artsakh, as well as in the Congo, Sudan, Central America, and even on the streets of America.

Let us pray the prayer of St. Francis of Assisi:

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.
O Master, let me not seek as much
to be consoled as to console,
to be understood as to understand,
to be loved as to love,
for it is in giving that one receives,
it is in self-forgetting that one finds,
it is in pardoning that one is pardoned,
it is in dying that one is raised to eternal life.

Youth Moving Forward

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Armodoxy for Today: Youth Moving Forward

This is the final installment of a four-part miniseries about the shoot-down over Sasnashen and what it means today.

On September 29, 2019, with the blessings of His Eminence Archbishop Hovnan Derderian, we ventured off to the town of Talin for the opening of the Sasnashen Youth Center. This was the culmination of a year’s worth of planning and organization across the globe, with limited resources, difficult communications and the challenges of a cold winter that put our work on hold for several months. Nevertheless, the power of prayer, the joy of helping children and our commitment to the project made it a labor of love that was celebrated by a community in this remote part of Armenia.

The first three parts of this miniseries of daily messages have outlined the remarkable chain of events that brought about this project, from the Cold War, to Sasnashen, to Nebraska, and now full circle back to the village where this tragedy first unfolded in 1958.

The Prop Wash Gang, organizers of the event in Nebraska which first brought us together collected an amount of money. They gave it to me with the request, “Can you see to it that the kids in Sasnashen are helped in some way?” I have to admit, when they asked me I had no idea where in Armenia to find Sasnashen. In fact, so obscure is this village of 700+ inhabitants that I could not find anyone, especially taxi drivers in Yerevan, who knew where to locate it. Finally, thanks to Google maps and my deacon, Hrayr Nalbandian, we made it there.

I cold-called Fr. Tadé Takhmazian from a number given to me by one of my clergy brothers who had met him only months early. I don’t believe in coincidences or in chance. I believe in blessings, which I have defined as luck, without the element of chance. Fr. Tadé is a blessing. Fr. Tadé, serves the population of Sasnashen and nine-other villages, I began to learn about the needs of the community, people and especially the youth. We decided to work on creating a youth center – a safe place for young people to feel belonging, learn, grow and mature in faith as productive members of the community.

And now… September 29, we held the opening of the Sasnashen Youth Center in Talin. Along with a contingent from our Bible Study group in Glendale we made the journey, 12 time-zones away, to celebrate this new project. We joined the St. James pilgrimage organized by Fr. Haroutioun Tachejian, visiting many of the historic and spiritually significant sites in Armenia. Together, with the St. James group, about 25 of us from America attended this opening. I was honored to celebrate the Divine Liturgy that morning at the Holy Asdvadzadzin church in Talin. It was the feast day of the Cross of Varak and so I offered what is called an ookhdi badarak and so directed my sermon to the needs of the community and the crosses we all carry. The Cross of Christ is not a fixture of history, it is part of our daily life, pointing to the struggles and difficulties which we overcome by our Faith.

Following the service in church, Fr. Tadé led us to the newly renovated house and we officially dedicated and opened it as the Sasnashen Youth Center with a ribbon cutting ceremony. For this occasion the Prop Wash Gang sent a shadow box which contains a piece of the wreckage of the C-130 that was shot-down by the Soviet Union. As part of the dedication, the shadow box and a plaque listing the names of the 17 servicemen who were killed on September 2, 1958 now adorns the wall of the Center as a permanent reminder of the tragedy.

We were honored to have with us Maksena Haroutiunyan, widow of the late internationally renown sculptor Martin Kakosian. As an 18 year-old young man, Martin Kakosian was an eye-witness to the shoot down. He was instrumental in the dedication of the original khatchkar which stood as a marker for the tragedy until later, when he designed and constructed the current monument which stands on a hill near the crash site in Sasnashen. Mrs. Haroutiunyan shared a stirring account of what had transpired along with recollections from her late husband.

The one man who initially connected me with the shoot-down of the C-130 60528, the Prop Wash Gang and ultimately with Sasnashen is Larry Tart, author of “The Price of Vigilance” (2001) and “Freedom through Vigilance” (2010).  I’ve never met him in person yet feel a kindred spirit in him. He signs his emails to me “In Brotherhood” and on this day that fraternal bond became very real and concrete. During the opening ceremony I know he was with us. I took advantage of the attentiveness of the group and gave some background to the people on the importance of Mr. Tart’s personal vigilance in this story.

With much excitement and joy we dedicated the house to the education and elucidation of the village children and youth. Fr. Tadé has a magnetic personality and has won the hearts of the children in the villages. Every week he visits the students in Sasnashen and nine other villages in the area. He shared his vision with us; the Center will be a place where children can learn, play, explore their options, and most importantly share and talk with other young people and mentors.

Following the opening ceremony, the group travelled the 10km ride to Sasnashen, where we visited the crash-site and the monument. There, we offered a requiem prayer to the 17 servicemen and also remembered Martin Kakosian and Deacon Hrayr Nalbandian in our prayers. May God rest their souls.

We celebrated the day and our work with a local families in Sasnashen with food, wine, song and dance. Today, from the midst of tragedy, a new chapter was being opened in the life of the village and in the life of young people wanting an opportunity for a better life. Many of the villagers suffer immense economic hardships. Education and building up self-worth are the cornerstones of this project.

In reference to our Christian faith, Resurrection, like Crucifixion, is not a historical anomaly. Rather, it is up to us to profess through our witness to Christ and the Armenian Church, that Resurrection is a reality of our daily existence.

We close off this series with the words inscribed on the monument at Sasnashen

We must never forget that freedom is never really free. It is the most costly thing in the world. Freedom is never paid in a lump sum. Installments come due in every generation. All any of us can do is offer the generations that follow a chance for freedom.

 

Discovering Sasnashen

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Armodoxy for Today: Discovering Sasnashen

This is part 3 of a four-part miniseries about the shoot-down over Sasnashen and what it means today.

In 1958 – during the height of the Cold War – a United States Air Force C-130 flying a reconnaissance mission on the Turkish/Armenian border was shot down by the Soviets. The plane crashed in the village of Sasnashen, Armenia and lost its entire crew of 17 servicemen. The Soviets did not admit to the severity of the tragedy until after the fall of the USSR and by 1992 – some 34 years after the incident – the remains of all 17 men were returned to the United States for proper recognition and committal. Since that time commemorations have been taken place, including the placing of a khatchkar (cross stone) and a monument at the crash site with visits by U.S. military and government officials.

Now… on the evening of September 2, 2018, exactly 60 years to the date of the crash I stood before the servicemen and their families at the Offutt Air Force Base in Nebraska. I delivered the keynote address at a gathering commemorating the shoot-down of US Air Force C-130 #60528.

The group honored me by giving me a framed piece of the tail of the fallen plane. Then, spontaneously they took up a collection and asked that I use the money to benefit the children of Sasnashen. Accepting the responsibility, one month later, October 25, 2018, I visited the village of Sasnanshen – about 65 km out of Yerevan toward the Northwest border of Armenia. The closest town is Talin (about 10 kms away) with a population of about 4,000. Through our Armenian Church network, I connected with Fr. Tadé Takhmazyan, the priest of Talin. He served the 10 villages surrounding the town and one of the villages was Sasnashen (population 750). My deacon Hrayr Nalbandian drove me there and together with the priest we climbed a rocky road to the crash-site where a monument stands in this remote and obscure corner of the world. It is a tall standing memorial with a plaque written in both Armenian and English:

September 2, 1958 – We must never forget that freedom is never really free. It is the most costly thing in the world. Freedom is never paid in a lump sum. Installments come due in every generation. All any of us can do is offer the generations that follow a chance for freedom.

There, under the open skies and the silence of the village we offered a prayer for the 17 fallen servicemen as well as a prayer for peace.

In Sasnashen, beyond the economic challenges of village life, there are few, if any, opportunities for young people to advance in education, or even to explore and exploit their potential. There are government schools but after school-hours and on weekends the children end up on the rural roads without supervision and/or guidance. Father Tadé has access to the schools and offers weekly classes to children in the village schools and is known and recognized by youth. We decided to use the funds gathered in Nebraska to further opportunities for youth in the Sasnashen village by creating a Center for after school-hours, where young people can feel welcome, share and explore options to maximize their potential in life.

With the encouragement and blessing of Archbishop Hovnan Derderian, the Primate of the Western Diocese we quickly began work on organizing this program called “Sasnashen Youth Center.”  The Catholicos of All Armenians, HH Kareken II gave a small flat directly across the street from the Talin church with the understanding that it would be used as a gathering place for youth. The collected funds were used to bring the center up to standards for a meeting place. We repaired the plumbing, installed a kitchenette, lavatory and new windows.

In July, the following year, I personally made a trip to the area to monitor progress and meet with Fr. Tadé and others to discuss the progress of renovation and the program. I also met with the head of the (Aragatsotn) Diocese, Bishop Mkrtich Proshyan to assure a proper working relationship between all of our parties. He officially pronounced the name of this project as Sasnashen Youth Center It is dedicated in the names of the servicemen who perished in the village in 1958.

This is a place where young people can first and foremost feel welcome, safe and loved. It is a gathering place to study, to learn, or merely congregate after school.  We furnished the room and provided computers with internet connections so that we can visit remotely.

An underlying intention on our part was that this could serve as a pilot project which could be replicated in villages for a low cost and can take advantage of local resources – personnel and physical spaces – which are often overlooked.

Opportunities to help others are God given. Our Church is the vehicle by which we do our work. From the grave tragedy of the 1958 shoot-down a new beginning and opportunity for education is extended to the children of that village.

 

Join me tomorrow, on Armodoxy for Today for the final installment on this short four part miniseries of daily messages regarding Sasnashen

Keynote in Nebraska

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Armodoxy for Today: Keynote

This is part 2 of a four-part miniseries about the shoot-down over Sasnashen and what it means today.

The day arrived. In the middle of Nebraska, this Armenian priest was to meet with service men from throughout the United States. They had all come to commemorate, remember, and reconnect with a story. They had come to reconnect with others who shared the same values and understanding of the sacrifice made by these 17 men, shot down over Sasnashen, Armenia on September 2, 1958.

The acting President of the Prop Wash Gang, Chief Lonnie Henderson, emceed the program. He had set up a “Missing Man Table” at the center of the banquet hall. The table was set on a white tablecloth, containing 17 red roses in vases and a place setting for one – one representing them all. A shaker of salt next to the setting was a bitter reminder of what had transpired. There, the names of the 17 men were written along with the poem “We See the Eagles Fly.”

Tom Giroir, offered the invocation and introduced me as an Armenian priest. In referencing to my background he pointed to our ministry of “In His Shoes,” that is, those who have suffered evil have a unique responsibility to take action against injustice to others. It was on this premise that I shared my thoughts for the evening with the group.

That day I spoke of the rich story of the Armenian people and the land. I spoke of the Armenian Genocide as an event but also as a springboard to addressing the despicable reality of Genocide that continues to take place in our world. Most especially, I shared with the group the need to stay ever vigilant in their resolve to remember the sacrifices of their fallen brothers. Vigilance and remembrance must have manifestations today in our actions to combat evil on all fronts.

After I offered the ancient requiem prayer of the Armenian Church and remembered all 17 of the fallen servicemen by name, Chief Lonnie honored me in a manner I will forever remember. On behalf of the Prop Wash Gang he presented a shadow box with an actual piece of the downed-plane. Here I would have a tangible reminder of the sacrifice made by these men and the ever-essential necessity to stay vigilant against injustice. He also gifted me Larry Tart’s book, “The Price of Vigilance” signed by the author.

I confessed that in all my travels to Armenia I had never been to Sasnashen. And now, I promised that I can’t think going back to Armenia without visiting Sasnashen. There, I promised the group, I will take the spirit and the energy that was brewing in this room on September 2, 2018. It was a powerful and moving spirit. Since that day, I have shared the story of Sasnashen with countless people through sermons, lectures and videos.

This evening we connected on a human level. We were there to honor sacrifice – the expression of love by these 17 men. We connected Bellevue, Nebraska mystically to Sasnashen, Armenia.  This evening we understood that the most fundamental of all human expressions – to extend ourselves to others, to love and share is essential. It is the legacy that has been left to us by the 17 men who were shot down giving themselves for something greater than themselves, for our country and ultimately for humanity. And we accept the challenge to perpetuate and share this legacy beyond this evening.

With the recitation of the poem, “We See the Eagles” the Commemoration on the 60th Anniversary of the Shoot Down came to an end.

WE SEE THE EAGLES FLY

We see the eagles fly…

lookin’ north

toward the Caucasus Mountains

‘bout nine in the morning

Warm September day

Clear

No clouds

We see the eagles fly…

…effortlessly

riding the currents

Soaring above all

Majestic

Supreme

We see the eagles fly…

…and those eagles

look a lot like

The Prop Wash Gang

(September 2, 1997)