The Gospel of St. John ends with the words, “And there are also many other things that Jesus did, which if they were written one by one, I suppose that even the world itself could not contain the books that would be written. Amen.” (21:25)
I have always assumed that this was hyperbole, an exaggerated statement not meant to be taken literally. After all, the Gospel narrative accounts for three years of Jesus’ life, from baptism to resurrection. And technically, St. John’s account can be spread over a single year. Even if there was an event or miracle recorded every minute of his wake life, the recording process would not be prohibited by the amount of space on the planet.
St. John writes these words after his account of the Resurrection and during the time that the Christian community was organizing, and the Church was placing roots as it expanded. After the Resurrection of Christ, the message was spreading like wildfire, as more and more people were experiencing a new mindset, where death was no longer to be feared and God’s love was readily available to all.
Over the last several weeks (since Easter), I have presented the work of the Armenian Church Youth Ministries Center from 2003 on. The series, called “It was 20 years ago today,” chronicled miracles and events that took place from a small church which was built on a faith in the power of resurrection over crucifixion, light over darkness, love over hatred. As I wrote the last entry, I realized there was so much more that I could have recorded, so much more that should be shared, so much more, that perhaps there might not be enough space or time to write it down. No, these words are not hyperbole, rather they reflect a genuine understanding of the impact the Christian message has had on the lives of people. One person who moves from hurt to healing, is multiplied by the number of people he or she affects in and with his or her life.
Now, in the case of Christ, the Son of God, manifesting the Divine Spirit in our world, can we possibly even fathom the effect the Incarnation had on the world. The passage we read above is the epilogue to St. John’s Gospel. It is the ending to a Gospel that started off, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through Him, and without Him nothing was made that was made. In Him was life, and the life was the light of men. And the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it.”
The Light is all consuming, all revealing, and with the Light, there can be no darkness.
We pray the prayer of St. Nersess Shnorhali from the 21st hour. O Christ, True Light, make my soul worthy to behold with joy the light of Your glory, in that day when You call me, to rest in the hope of good things in the mansions of the just until the day of Your glorious coming. Have mercy upon Your Creatures and upon me, a great sinner.
Communications is the glue that holds society together ~Apple Computer, 1984 ad campaign.
Twenty Years Ago an experiment took place on the streets of Glendale. Since Easter I have shared with you stories from the Armenian Church Youth Ministry Center, nestled in an area that was ignored by Armenian organizations, a place where education, identity and prayer came together.
Today’s Episode: And then we rolled out our greatest weapon, communications. Epostle.net becomes real.
The Youth Ministries gave me an opportunity to explore and exploit the latest trends in technology, namely the blossoming self-broadcasting trends and podcasting. Enter Suzie Shatarevyan, a young lady with a passion for the ministry, computing and the remarkable innate talent to actually bring it all together.
The Church has always pioneered the use of technology. Think of the printing press, a means of sharing information on a mass scale and the printing of the Bible. In the Armenian world, the first prayer book to be printed was called “Oorbat” or “Friday” and rolled off the press to bring God’s presence in written form to the masses. Earlier, in art, from early tapestries, to the use of special dies in miniatures, to icons, to frescos, the Church has used the tools that have been at the cutting edge of the technology.
By the time we landed at the Youth Ministries’ Center we were already heavily using technology to promote our Armenian Christian faith. We were a regular feature on the Glendale TV show produced by Vatche Mangassarian. We originally came on as a guest and soon it was obvious that we needed our own platform. Vatche provided the technical side and I provided the content. We produced weekly shows promoting the Armenian Church, via the St. Gregory the Illuminator Church in Pasadena. Talin Kazanjian produced these shows and Tamar Papirian Khatchadourian was the commentator while I gave the spiritual message. Each show was presented in Armenian and English which was a novelty in the Glendale market, and arguable, still is.
From there, we were approached by Japonica Partners in New York. They asked us to produce and broadcast the Divine Liturgy on the Internet. The first official Epostle broadcast took place on Easter Sunday, April 23, 2000. With the same team of Talin and Tamar. By today’s standards, our systems were primitive, we extended cables and couplers to modems and phone lines and simulcast the traditional Armenian Divine Liturgy with overdubbed English explanation. It worked!
I will never forget the note I received the day after Easter: Thank you for the Easter Broadcast. This was the first year that my father was going to miss Easter service because of his failing health. That morning, he wore his suit, cleaned up, shaved and sat in front of my computer and listened to the entire service, from end to end. He received the blessing. Christ is Risen!
The power afforded us by computer technology was a game changer. It moved us forward exponentially. Suzie came on board and offered her computer know-how and skills as a volunteer at the center. She maintained a full-time job at the Loyola Law School, and still managed to offer 30-40 hours a week to the ministry. It was the kind of dedication that was needed to become the foundation for Epostle.net. She put together the church’s website and the early social media pages (My Space, My Church et al). We began recording sermons in audio and visual formats and distributed them in hard-format, on CDs and DVDs. A parishioner donated a DVD/CD duplicator machine. During the week, volunteers duplicated sermons and educational programs from the Youth Ministries Center. Those CDs were then packaged and distributed Sunday mornings, on college campuses, local businesses and by mail.
By 2008 we were ready to make the plunge into podcasting. I was following a pioneer, Fr. Roderick on his podcasts and realized that the hardest part would be to start. Suzie took the edge off of that hardness and set up the entire production of what we named “The Next Step with Fr. Vazken.” It launched on June 18, 2008. We added the “dot net” to our Epostle brand and we moved from CDs to podcasting.
Steve Jobs had introduced the iPhone only a year earlier and podcasting was in its infancy. In November 2008, the Thanksgiving edition of the Next Step was featured on the cover page of Apple’s Music program iTunes, spiking our listener base by several thousand. Some call it luck, I called it a blessing, that is, luck without the element of chance.
Through the years we stirred the pot with special features such as “Ani Bubbles” a series of bright blessings produced by Ani Burr Simonoff. We pushed the limits in many ways by constantly exploring the edges of technology. At the time there were podcasting conventions, which we attended to learn and share. Once Suzie, my sister Anush and I took rented a blue convertible Mustang and drove out to Las Vegas for a day of meeting podcasters in what was a hobby burgeoning into an industry.
Suzie was and continues to be on the production end of Epostle.net.
In the “Our Father” prayer, Jesus instructs us to pray, “Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” To pray that prayer means that first we accept the responsibility of being the agent by which God’s will is done on earth as it is in heaven. Often when we discuss the ministry and church, we forget that it all comes together because of very special people who accept that challenge. Some say we were lucky, others say it was good fortune, I name it blessed, luck without the element of chance to have the quality and caliber of volunteers who make the Ministry the miracle it was.
From this simple but sacred church on a corner across the cluster of schools, the Christian Gospel of light over darkness, life over death, love over hatred was preached and witnessed. The miracles were many and unforgettable by everyone who attended and called this church home. Sunday mornings we celebrated the Badarak, Divine Liturgy of the Armenian Church, and that celebration continued throughout the week as we celebrated life and walked in the shoes of others.
https://epostle.net/wp-content/uploads/2023/05/DALL·E-2023-05-10-22.05.01-Surrealistic-image-combining-technology-grid-with-microphone-and-internet-symbols-.png10241024Vazken Movsesianhttps://epostle.net/wp-content/uploads/2022/07/final_logo_large_for_epostle_web-300x189.pngVazken Movsesian2023-05-11 00:01:512024-08-30 09:55:54On Earth as in Heaven
Untold stories from the Armenian Church Youth Ministries Center
Today’s Episode: Changing Mindset 2
As we wind down this series “It was 20 years ago today” before the feast of Ascension (40 days after Easter), we’re taking a look at two of the biggest miracles we experienced changing the mindset of the community, and opening the doors for what is possible in and through the Armenian Church. Yesterday we looked at forgiveness within the community, today we look at the community itself. Both of these mindset changes have to do with the acceptance of reality.
Armenians rightfully take pride in the historic reality that Armenia was the first Christian nation. The operative word for us today is was. The first Christian nation belongs to the 4th Century, while the decedents of that nations, well, ideally, belong to the 21st century, removed by over 1700 years since that nation-changing event. To take claim to that Light of Life that Illuminated Armenia in 301 A.D., the connection has to be justified. The Jews of Jesus’ time tried to justify themselves before him by claiming to be heirs of Abraham, to which Christ responds, “And do not think you can say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our father.’ I tell you that out of these stones God can raise up children for Abraham.”
We can hear the same voice asking Armenians, “And you not suppose that God can create the children of the Armenian nation out of these stones?” In other words, the past is gone, what are you doing to justify your position as children/heirs of the first Christian nation? The challenge we had before ourselves was to change the mindset of pride to a mindset of responsibility.
In 2005, when His Holiness Karekin II, the Catholicos of All Armenians made his pontifical visit to the United States, two of us from the Armenian Church Youth Ministry Center were asked to participate in a symposium held at the University of Southern California. Dr. Dekmejian spoke about the a plan for growth in the Armenian Church utilizing basic ideas of faith-building. My topic was “Globalization and the Armenian Church.” At the end of the conference, His Holiness took both of these plans back to Armenia as a game-plan for the Armenian Church in the 21st century. The idea was simple: we in the Armenian Church have much to offer the world in terms of the being the oldest Christian tradition on earth. At the same time, we have a lot to learn from communities that have adapted to the realities of the day.
One of those communities we looked at was the African American community in the United States. Often we Armenians are compared to the Jewish community primarily because of the connection of Genocide. But a comparison to the African American community has many more parallels. Unlike the Jews who were in Europe leading to the Holocaust, Armenians were residing in their historic homeland. The Nuremberg Trials were held in the 1940s, an international war crimes tribunal which revealed the true extent of German atrocities and held some of the most prominent Nazis accountable for their crimes. Germany accepted responsibility and reparations were made.
Through the years I had read and heard (in recordings) the great Civil Rights leader the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. His words moved and inspired me. In particular his “Letter from Birmingham Jail,” I found to be one of the most eloquent pieces of Christian writing, in any age, and one that reverberated in my heart. It spoke to the plight of the Armenian people and Armenian Church, as much as it did to that of the African American population and the Black church. I must say here, that King would go out of his way to emphasize that in light of all of the accolades, degrees and titles that could be used to identify him, first and foremost he was a minister of the Gospel of Jesus Christ.
Beginning on the first year at the Youth Ministries Center and continuing every year thereafter, we organized Martin Luther King “Retreats” where we would take away groups, mostly young in age/young at heart, to study the works of King, side-by-side to the writings and teachings of Armenian Church leaders such as Khirimian Hayrig, St. Nersess Shnorhali, St. Gregory of Narek and St. Gregory of Datev. We studied and then challenged participants to walk the path forged by Jesus and followed by these most incredible leaders and students of Christianity.
The mindset began to change, ever so slowly, but it did. The majority of our congregation at the church and center were immigrants. They started understanding the huge responsibility they had as children of the Armenian Church. They were hurting from their experiences and were empathetic to others in pain. They would attend rallies in support of Domestic Violence, walking hand-in-hand with survivors, in marches organized on the streets of Glendale and Burbank. They produced a video “Greetings of Hope” as a message to refugees of the Genocide in Darfur. They extended themselves to the poor and the needy. The miracle happened, they saw themselves as representatives of the Resurrection, not as victims of a crucifixion.
The waves of change are not easy to land. There was opposition to these altruistic efforts from Armenian American leadership who could not see beyond their noses. But we were persistent. I used every opportunity that I could to get the message out. From the pulpit, of course, but I also spoke on college campuses, at High School Baccalaureates, at retreats and seminar, and on television and radio interviews. There is a song that the freedom fighters during the Armenian Genocide would sing, Միայն զէնքով կայ հայոց փրկութիւն = Armenian’s salvation is only through the gun. I had the audacity to quote this in interviews and then add that the greatest gun or weapon that we have is our capacity to love and to give. Interviewers didn’t know whether to censor me or pretend I didn’t say it so that it could be dismissed. But we continued. And then we rolled out our greatest weapon, the electronic forum = Epostle dot net.
Join me tomorrow as we tie up “20 Years ago today” with the miracle of apostolic evangelism for an electronic world.
Cover: At the House of Blues – Mike Geragos leads the singing at the IHS MLK Retreat, circa 2010
Untold stories from the Armenian Church Youth Ministries Center
Today’s Episode: Changing Mindset
Miracles are transformational. On the surface, they seem to change the appearance or the make up of an entity. Water becomes solid and Jesus walks on it and we say that it is a miracle. Two fish and five loaves feed thousands, that too is a miracle of form.
Immediately after the first Easter, the Christian Church went through a major transformational period, trying to deal with the Miracle of miracles, namely that Jesus had resurrected from the dead. The first gospel message, “Christ has risen” shook the foundation of humanity. No longer was death to be feared. The door to eternity was open and even more, the Kingdom of God was accessible to everyone.
The early Church, what we refer to as the Apostolic Church, was defining the new reality, a reality which donned the name Christian. It was changing the mindset of the people. No longer were they confined to the rules and regulations of old but were empowered to maximize the life God had given them. When Jesus offers the parable of the talents, he is breaking the limits we impose on ourselves, and presents humanity with courage to multiply God’s goodness many times over by living the blessing of life.
As we wind down this series “It was 20 years ago today” before the feast of Ascension (40 days after Easter), I’d like to look at two of the biggest miracles we experienced which changed the mindset of the community, and opened the door for what is possible in and through the Armenian Church. Both mindset changes have to do with the acceptance of reality.
The year 2015 marked the 100th anniversary of the Armenian Genocide. Armenians had it on their radar just as they had the 97th, 98th and 99th year. It was an opportunity to remind the world of the atrocities committed against the Armenian people in their ancestral homeland by the Ottoman Turks. Over the last several weeks you’ve heard the stories that came from the corner. It was about resurrection, it was about renew and it was about living our Christian faith, not as a slogan (“First Christian Nation”) but as a way of life. The challenge we had at the 100th anniversary, how do we present the Armenian Genocide in such away to prevent anyone walking away with even more hatred? Think of our dilemma, how do we present the slaughter of 1.5 million people so that the listener will not be fueled with hatred and animosity against another group of people? In other words, it would be hypocritical to talk about love and peace while inciting hatred and/or war?
We began with a project on April 24, 2005, on the 90th anniversary of the Armenian Genocide. We took young Armenians to the desert, and we made a human chain of “sevens.” We dressed up in the t-shirts that had the formula “7×77” on the front, and on the back, the question that incited the answer: “Lord, how many times must I forgive someone who has hurt me.” (Matthew 18:21-22) Watch video
By positioning our palms, one up and the other down, we formed a human chain. Artist Gregory Beylerian photographed this event. Ninety years earlier, our grandparents had been exiled to the desert and now the grandkids were in the desert embodying the “Jesus formula.”
That event got us talking where we had dropped off with John Lennon’s death, “Imagine there is no country… living life in peace.” Our conversations manifested an event on July 7, 2007. It was the first conference on forgiveness. It was sponsored by In His Shoes, We Care for Youth and held at All Saints Episcopal Church in Pasadena. It received incredible media coverage throughout Southern California. We had speakers who had survived the Genocide in Rwanda, as well as Leticia Aguirre who had found the courage to forgive her son’s killers. This time, the artist constructed a “Universal Wheel of Peace” again using the participants to embody the sevens. (www.7×77.org)
The conversation about forgiveness grew on that corner in Glendale. From domestic violence, to gang wars, to articulating a identity void of hatred and evil, we arrived at the 100th anniversary. With Gregory Beylerian we constructed a portal, where visitors could come and experience the Armenian reality of resurrection. We engaged the students of the Armenian day schools in the challenge of talking about Genocide without anger, but with respect and dignity. Armenians, for the first time since the Genocide of their ancestors, were commemorating with a focus on the Resurrection of a people. That year, the Armenian Church proclaimed the Martyrs of 1915 as saints of the Church. Armenians were no longer victims, but victors in Christ. This is the Faith of the Church. Of course, the secular community had difficulty grasping this, but in small doses, the mindset changes.
As I said, changing a mindset is a major miracle. We prayed and focused on the Resurrection of Christ. It is what led the early Church and today that message, as applied to the Armenian people, is just as powerful. It can change the way we understand ourselves, our world and our relationship with God.
people, I watched the Coronation of King Charles III Saturday morning, here on the West Coast of America. Yes, I said many people. An estimated 19.3 million tuned in via BBC One and 11.7 million on ITV at home, while global audience figures are said to have reached 2.5 billion. That’s about a third of the earth’s population. Obviously, the Monarchy is of interest to many more than the citizens of the United Kingdom. Watching the Coronation will give you an ideas as to why.
It was almost 70 years to the day that the coronation of King Charles’ mother, Queen Elizabeth II took place (June 2, 1953). King Charle’s Coronation was the first view most of the world’s population had of this ceremony, and in splendid color at 4K and 8K definition, with opportunities to rewind vows, still the frame over jewels and zoom in on background expressions. For me, the excitement was with all of it, especially over the words that shared this service with the common man.
I was taken by the similarities between the Coronation and the ordination of the priest in the Armenian Church. From the vestments, to the prayers over the vestments to the holy oil dripping from the golden dove, I kept thinking who’s taking from who? Who’s adopting or adapting from who?
The opening declaration set the tone for the Coronation and hooked me, ”Your Majesty,” said two youngsters dressed in royal attire, “As children of the kingdom of God we welcome you in the name of the King of kings.”
The emphasis throughout the ceremony was on service, that King Charles had come to serve, not to be served. The Scriptural reading came from the Gospel of Luke, chapter 4, where Jesus proclaims his own mission. It is read at the consecration of every priest in the Armenian Church, it has been the cornerstone of my ministry and now I was hearing it along with the King and the millions listening:
“The Spirit of the Lord is upon Me,
Because He has anointed Me
To preach the gospel to the poor;
He has sent Me to heal the brokenhearted,
To proclaim liberty to the captives
And recovery of sight to the blind,
To set at liberty those who are oppressed;
To proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord.”
To serve others. Authority. Structure. Beauty. Splendor. Magnificence. Solemnity. Sacredness. Holy. Set apart from our daily experience. All things that came to my mind as to why this scene, which was being broadcast into our homes and across phones and tablets, was so appealing to me and so many others. But let’s not fool ourselves. It comes with a price, a price defined by the relationship of church and state.
The Archbishop of Canterbury installed the King of England. In turn the King is the head of the Church of England. In the Armenian Church we’ve had these close ties between church and state, especially within the conversion story, with St. Gregory the Illuminator and King Tirtad in the 4th century. Today, in the West, especially here in the United States, the separation of church and state are part of our constitution. That separation too, comes with a price, a price that we often are willing to pay, by abandoning the sanctity of freedom.
“My country ‘tis of thee,” a song we learn here in the States is the “America” hymn, set to the words of “God save the King.” As I heard it song at the Coronation, I must admit I was moved and swelled with emotions, don’t ask me why. But still, it’s a reminder that there was a reason why the American Revolution took place. There was a reason why independence was declared, and it had to do with the basic freedom to choose, yes, to choose your own fate and destiny.
I can’t even imagine having a head-of-state who de facto is the head of the Church. A President or a Prime Minister who is the head of the church? In the case of the Conversion of Armenia, it’s a beautiful and poetic story: Armenia became the first Christian nation.
Faith, never has, nor can it ever be mandated or legislated.
Armenians have a custom, which is blessed by the Church, of making vows which are paid for by sacrifice to the needy. It is called “Matagh” (Մատաղ). The idea is simple enough, you make a vow to feed the needy for a goodness that has been granted to you. Good health, prosperity, children’s achievements, are some of the reasons, and sharing the goodness with those who suffer is a way of expressing gratitude. The Church blesses this gesture with a prayer over the offering. We believe, God’s blessings shower on those who give. (Acts 20:35)
In the early days of the Youth Ministry Center we met a young man named Haig. He was a Clark-Kent type, in that during the day his work demanded a suit and tie, and in the evenings he’d don is “working clothes” to do some super work: feeding the needy and providing for the homeless. His presence at the Youth Ministry was the perfect fit, especially since we had just started the In His Shoes mission which emphasized our resurrection as a people and the Christian mandate to celebrate by helping others. Imagine that, the once-starving Armenians were now feeding others.
The game plan was this: We’d boil 20 gallons of water. Mr. Mehrabian had furnished us with an industrial kitchen, making tasks like this easy enough. The water would go into large thermoses and into the back of a car. We’d pile into two or three SUV’s or vans, along with boxes of soup-in-a-cup, spoons, and some staple food. We’d head out to downtown Los Angeles’ “Skid Row” where we’d park on a corner and distribute a hot meal, of soup and more. Sometimes we’d take clothes and shoes, from collections we’d organize at the center. We’d make a few stops in downtown, and people would come to the vans.
The contact with the homeless was often strangely festive. There would be casual chatter about life and always ended with a lot of gratitude. We were like a small brigade – we’d arrive to a corner, jump out of the cars and do our work. Everyone had a job: drivers, secure the area, open the soups, pour the water, offer food and bottled water, show clothes and shoes. We’d drive away always with the joy of helping, but with a deep sadness that it was only a temporary fix and we’d be back next week.
Finding volunteers for this homeless run was always easy. Tell them you’d want them to serve on a committee for an upcoming event, you’d get blank stares, ask them to go on a “skid-row run” and we sometimes had to turn away volunteers. We’d start and end each run with a prayer, asking God for strength as we went to meet our brothers and sisters on the street.
One night a man came up to our soup-distribution graciously declined the soup. Instead, he asked two of our volunteers, Anush and Suzie, for a sandwich and “maybe salad.” They explained that the night’s offering was soup and a snack, and even offered to provide the dry soup, ready for a meal tomorrow. Once again, he politely refused the soup saying he didn’t want to take it away from someone who might be hungry.
The kindness we witnessed on the street was exemplary, it’s the kind you point out to your children. “Please,” “Thank you,” “God bless,” were the words we heard, even when we didn’t have what they requested, in this case, a sandwich.
We continued with our distribution, when suddenly a car stopped by our van. “Do you guys need some more food to give away?” yelled out a voice. “We were at Starbucks at closing time and they were giving away their unsold daily food, we figured there’d be people who could use these.” Anush and Suzie responded in unison, “Sure, what do you have?”
“Sandwiches and salads.”
Suzie accepted the goods and Anush found the man in the crowd. When we came over and we presented him with his requested meal, his reaction was not one of surprise. He was grateful. He took the sandwich and salad, and right there, dropped to his knees on the sidewalk, raised the food to the heavens and gave thanks.
Another time a man asked for a size 8.5 shoe. We tried to find a fit, but a size 9 was the best we could do. He tried it and it wasn’t a good fit so he thanked us and went his way. At the next stop we found a person who could use the size 9 pair. He tried them on. They were perfect. In trade, he took off his shoes and donated them to us saying someone else could use them. The shoes he gave us were a size 8.5. We found the first man on the street, brought him the shoes, they were a perfect fit.
Stories like this motivated us and pointed to something greater at play during these distributions. The streets of Los Angeles have since gotten scarier and a few years back the police advised us to stop the distribution. We now distribute at a local shelter, and do so in the name of the Armenian people as a form of matagh.
Join me tomorrow as we explore more stories of faith and community building from our time at the Youth Ministries Center.
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It was 20 years ago today: Untold Stories from the Youth Ministry Center
Today’s Episode: Impossible Forgiveness
There would soon be nothing to celebrate on Cinco de Mayo for the Aguirre family. It was in the year 2000 on the 5th of May that a young man named Raul Aguirre died outside his High School. In an effort to break-up a gang-related scuffle, Raul got caught in the mix and a knife meant for another boy, killed him instead. Raul was not a gang member. He was a student, a very decent and hard working students. He was 17 years old.
All this took place directly across the street from the Armenian Church Youth Ministry Center, in Glendale. Rival gangs made themselves known in the neighborhood as well as on the school campuses. Gangs were defined mostly along ethnic lines. And here, the listeners may understand why we refer to this as a place that Armenian organizations had abandoned and forgotten.
Our church and Youth Ministry Center opened in the year 2003 and so, I came to know Raul from the stories I heard about the day that he died. When we arrived on the corner, there were still students who remembered the tragedy with vivid details. However, I have to mention that the full story of Raul I only discovered after meeting his mother, Leticia, a woman who was a living testimony to the power of compassion, love and forgiveness.
On that tragic day Raul was late coming home from school. The phone rang and Leticia first received the news that her son had been hurt in a fight. Only three hours later, Raul died on an operating table.
Mrs. Aguirre recounted, “That moment was the most horrible in my life…. I felt that I would die, but the worst is that I didn’t die…”
During those early days at the Youth Ministry the community was very much talking about this murder. The trial was underway. The minor tensions that existed between the Armenian and Latino communities were even more pronounced by some of the students at the school. The boys who killed Raul were Armenian.
Day after grueling day of testimony Mrs. Aguirre attended the trial of her boy’s killers. And then the unexpected happened. Yes, I’ll admit it, even for me.
“I wanted justice to be done,” said Mrs. Aguirre. “In court I saw the mothers of the gang members kissing crosses and praying to God to forgive their sons and I thought how difficult this must be for God.”
But when Rafael Gevorgyan, one of three gang members being tried, begged for Mrs. Aguirre’s forgiveness on the final day of his trial, she gave it to him.
“I saw a boy, almost a child, in a situation so grave asking for forgiveness,” she said. “I felt huge compassion and huge tenderness.”
Mrs. Aguirre did the impossible. She forgave her son’s killers. She lived Christ’s command, to forgive. She expressed the final definition of love.
I was so moved by this story that I asked Mrs. Aguirre to come and share her story at our church. She accepted the invitation. She walked into an Armenian Church, packed to standing room only, with Armenian mothers, fathers and children. There was so much interest we set up speakers outside to handle the overflow crowd.
She stood up and spoke and told her story. Her words came out of her mouth in Spanish. A translator echoed the words in Armenian. The translator was unnecessary that evening. Everyone understood. Mrs. Aguirre was speaking the universal language, God’s language of love. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house.
Forgiveness is supernatural. Forgiveness is going beyond the expected and therefore the result is spectacular. Mrs. Aguirre’s actions were supernatural, that is, they rose above the expected argument of hatred and they acknowledged the power of love.
We witnessed many miracles while on that corner, and perhaps this was the greatest. Armenian ears heard a story spoken in Spanish and understood in Love. This day we learned that humans have the capacity to forgive and in so doing they reflect the Divine.
Join me tomorrow as we continue with the untold stories from the Armenian Church Youth Ministries Center, from 20 years ago today.
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Leticia Aguirre’s speech
Translated from Spanish to English
Hello everyone,
My name is Leticia Aguirre. My husband and I came to Glendale from Guadalajara, Mexico many years ago searching for a better life. My husband and I had three daughters and one son, Raul.
Raul was a very youthful, kind, well in mind and body, full of ideas and dreams to live. He had a month left before graduating high school and worked part-time at Taco bell. His wish was to join the Marines and study planes, which he liked very much.
May 5th of 2000 was an ordinary day. My children had gone to school. Around 4pm, as I was preparing dinner, I became worried that Raul hadn’t come home yet. Since he started work at 5pm, he would usually come home, change, eat, then go to work. Suddenly, then phone rang. It was a call from [Raul’s] school, notifying me that Raul was hurt in a fight outside of the school. I was horrified and even thought that this was a mistake, that it wasn’t Raul. I had never before received any complaints from school about Raul getting into trouble. On the contrary, he was a very quiet boy, even a bit timid.
We rushed to the hospital, not thinking that the situation could be so grave. Upon arrival, the doctor told us that Raul had been seriously injured. He had been stabbed twice in the back and twice in the heart. The doctor said that they were operating, but there was little hope. Three hours later, he died.
Seeing my son dead so abruptly was the most horrible thing that had happened to me in my entire life. It’s a pain so difficult to describe. I felt like I had died, but the worst part was that I hadn’t died. I had to live what was to come by the minute.
Later on, I found out what had happened. Raul was waiting for the Beeline in front of school when Jimmy, a boy from a Hispanic gang, came to leave school. Jimmy was with his friends when a car full of youth from an Armenian gang drove by. They exchanged gang signs and suddenly, the kids from the car got out to fight Jimmy and the Hispanic gang members. When he saw Jimmy in trouble, Raul tried to help and saved his life, but they killed Raul.
This changed many of our lives. I no longer feel complete, like a part of me died with Raul. My daughters and husband have also suffered. My youngest daughter who was then 8 years old has spend 3 years in psychiatric therapy, taking anti-depressants. She was emotionally unstable and diagnosed with fibromyalgia when she had deep depression and had pain throughout her body. My husband was a diabetic and his health worsened. My other daughter, who was 12 years old then, does not ever want to talk about what happened. Our lives changed forever.
Raul left us, but still lives in our hearts and in our memories. I still have all of his clothes hanging in the closet and folded in the drawers, as if he were still here. I have his shoes and his homework – they’re the only things I have from him and I will keep them forever. A child is never forgotten.
Gang violence is a terrible thing and not only do the families of the victims suffer, but also the families of the aggressors.
But from the very first minute of this, I felt God’s presence around me, giving me the strength to survive through something so terrible. Only He gave me the courage and hope for continuing to live.
I know that God is loving, merciful and forgives us all, but I did not know how I could have forgiven the boys that had killed my son. I was present at every day of the trial of the boys – I wanted justice to be served. In court, I saw the mother of one of the boys kissing a cross and praying to God for the boys. I thought about how difficult this situation was for God – with whom would He be with? With the mothers who were asking for compassion for their sons? Or with me who was asking for justice for my son?
Now I understand that He was with them and with me.
When the day came for Jimmy – the Hispanic gang member – to testify, it was sad. He has been involved in gangs since he was 12 years old, committing all sorts of crimes. His life seemed so sad and empty. But he felt an even greater [pain – dolor] and guilt for what had happened to Raul – after all, he was the one who started the problem and even ran off when Raul got involved in the fight to help him. He told me that since the incident, he had left the gang and was trying to be a good person. He was too ashamed to look me in the eyes and looked down instead. After his testimony, I went to the hallway to find him and speak to him. He asked me for forgiveness, crying, and said that he would have preferred to have been the one who was killed and not Raul, who was such a good person. He said that he could no longer stand such guilt and I forgave him from my heart. I gave him a hug and told him that the only thing he could do was to keep trying to be a good person, so that Raul’s death won’t have been in vain. If Raul gave his life for Jimmy, he should leave behind the gangs and all the bad that they do.
I saw how his face and heart felt so relieved, as if a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. He was very grateful and happy for my forgiveness.
I kept attending the trial of the Armenian boys, day after day, waiting for justice and still not understanding how God forgives us all, even the boys who killed my son.
When the day came to read the verdict, one of the boys, Rafael, who had struck my son with a crowbar, asked me for forgiveness. He told me that there was not a day that passed when he didn’t feel repentance for his involvement with what happened to Raul. He said that he knew it would be almost impossible for me to forgive him, but even if it were in 20 years or more, he hoped that one day I would forgive him.
At that moment, I felt something so hard to describe. I saw a boy, practically a child, in a situation so terrible, asking for my forgiveness. I felt great compassion and I forgave him with all my heart. I tried to give him a hug, but the judge would not allow it.
Then I understood God and how easy it was to forgive when you feel compassion, when you open your heart. God knew that I understood Him.
I know that Raul is happy to know that I have peace in my heart and that he is with God.
Since that day, Rafael writes great letters to me from prison where he tells me that my forgiveness gives him the strength to endure life in prison. He tells me that he is trying his best to be a good person. He graduated from high school in prison and that when he gets out, the first thing he plans to do is to visit Raul’s grave to tell him how sorry he is. I write back to him and try to tell him things that will help him move forward, that God always with him and that he is always in my prayers.
Time has passed and good things and sad things have happened.
Jimmy, the Hispanic boy, died a year ago; he was killed by the police. Apparently he couldn’t leave behind his bad habits. It was very hard for me and brought back all the pain that I felt when I lost Raul, my son. I felt that my son had died in vain, trying to help Jimmy, who couldn’t attain a life that was good and complete. But what I do thank God for is that He gave Jimmy and I the opportunity to open our hearts, for him to ask for my forgiveness and tell me how guilty he felt and for me to have forgiven him and to have felt the tranquility that I needed to feel. I think that if I had a different attitude and not listened to him, I would not have a clear conscious, to know that he would have died feeling so terrible.
Rafael, the Armenian boy, in one of his letters, told me that his appeal could cost him more years in prison. He tells me that if I am capable of forgiving him, after all the pain that he has caused me, then he also could be strong to get through his own pain and situation. He says that if he doesn’t get his appeal, for me not to worry because he is already grateful for the forgiveness that I have him for his error and this is a much bigger and real appeal compared to his situation.
These days, Rafael is happy to know that his sentence will be reduced by a few years and I am very happy for him.
It was 20 years ago today: Untold Stories from the Youth Ministry Center
Today’s Episode: Rejected Scholarships
The after-school mentoring program was offered to students from the Glendale cluster of schools across the street from the Youth Ministry Center.
At the time I was serving as the chaplain for the Armenian Students at USC and I made a quick connection between the two groups. Student from USC would volunteer once or twice a week as a mentor at the Center. They would help with homework, but more importantly they would mentor their younger “brothers” and “sisters” in the paths of higher education.
Our mentoring program had established a name in Glendale. It was a model program.
One day, the principal from Glendale High School called me. Glendale High was Hoover High’s cross town rival, but the call had nothing to do with rivalry nor with Hoover High. The principal confessed that she was confounded by a string of events that just didn’t add up.
At Glendale High, she had several students of Armenian backgrounds, who were high-achievers and had scored very high in college board and SAT tests, granting them admission and scholarships into some of the most prestigious universities in the nation.
That didn’t sound like a problem to me. The unexpected is what followed. She continued, several of these students had rejected admission, scholarships, even full-rides to the best-of-the-best universities in the U.S. I had a hard time understanding this, until she listed the universities, they were all out of the area – Stanford, Harvard, Colombia, Berkeley. They had not rejected admissions to either of the two main local universities – USC or UCLA. I didn’t need to do any detective work, the principal explained that the parents of these bright students were the ones blocking the paths to higher education. They didn’t want their children to leave home, and so they bribed them with high-end cars. The formula was: reject the university, here’s a Mercedes and go to Glendale Community College.
As someone who had to take out loans and pay for university education, I just could not even imagine how someone could turn away a full-ride to these universities. I mean, what’s the process of rejection? How do you throw away that letter of acceptance? Do you answer back, sorry, I decided I’m going to GCC?
Furthermore, these were not isolated incidents. It was as if the parents had organized a resistance movement based on their fears.
The principal was just as confounded as me and asked for help. I turned this over to the mentors, to the USC ASA student. The principal organized a parent-info evening and my ASA came out en force. It was an evening of open and candid conversation. The students presented strong arguments, accented with presentations about the importance of higher education. They fielded questions and gave persuasive answers. We left Glendale High School that night with a sense of accomplishment. They listened and heard not from me, but from those who had walked down this path.
We are currently in Eastertide, a few weeks after Easter and before Ascension Day. In the period following the Resurrection, Jesus appeared to several people and crowds for 40 days, after which he ascended to heaven (Acts 1). Most of the evangelism in the first century was by Jesus’ followers, and certainly it follows, that most of the Christian Church for the last 2000 years has been evangelized by Jesus followers. Every day and period have their unique challenges based on the circumstances. That night at Glendale High School we learned a lot about the community. The parents were recent immigrants who had struggled to bring their children to this country to enjoy the freedom they had only heard of. Now they understood there was more to America than the dream. Whereas in the traditional Armenian family children stayed and lived at home until they were of age to start their own families, the American reality gave chances for the children to pursue their dreams on a different time-table. For the first time in the family’s long history, children were academically smarter than their parents and if that reality was not presented diplomatically, it could blow up in unexpected ways. Also, the material glitter of America had lured to many into believing that the material wealth was an end in itself. Finally, for me, as the head of this mentoring project, it was important to allow the students to talk. In this case there was more power in the advice when it came from peers, rather than me.
The Youth Ministry was an experiment. This was uncharted territory. In many ways, so is the Christian Church, so is life. Each day and each time have their own circumstances demanding us to act and address them accordingly. Sermons, messages and direction must take into account the times and the conditions under which the message is given. It’s the call to relevance.
Join me tomorrow as we continue with stories from the Youth Ministries Center from 20 years ago today.
Between the years 2003 and 2016 we ran an experiment in an area of Glendale, California known as “Ground Zero,” a place that Armenian organizations had ignored and forgotten, a place where education, identity and prayer came together.
These are the untold stories from the Armenian Church Youth Ministries Center.
Today’s Episode: Jesus Blankets
The Divine Liturgy of the Armenian Church is truly a holistic experience engaging all of your senses. The melodies of the hymns captivate the ear (when sung properly). The vestments and shiny brass dance before the eyes. The olfactory senses are alerted with the frankincense. Greeting one another with the “Holy Kiss” calls our touch and feel into play. And of course, the culmination of the Liturgy comes with tasting the Holy and Precious Body and Blood of our Savior. Five of the carnal senses are at play every Sunday in our churches, and many other senses that we feel but shy away from defining. They are all real in the church, though they may not be seen, like the stars that are all around us during bright sunlight.
When we first built our altar area at the Youth Ministry Center we used a very heavy fabric for the curtain. It was a red velvety material with golden colored ropes and brocades. For our little church on the corner it was truly a majestic accent to the otherwise humble offerings around us in the church. It was also fairly difficult to open and close since it resided on a circular metal rod that had to be supported with extra garters because of the weight of the massive curtain. The deacons often pulled and pulled, sometimes in an awkward display of physical energy in front of the congregation. After a couple of years and a few hundred jerks and tugs at the garment, the curtain was showing wear and tear.
One of the members of the church donated new fabric for a lightweight curtain to be sewn. It arrived shortly after the order was place. We decorated the expanse of the curtain with beautiful cross brocades. Most importantly, now the curtain could easily be opened and shut with minimal effort.
While everyone was excited with the new arrival to our church, I had to figure out what to do with the old curtain. I knew old vestments had to be burnt and I figured the same was true of this huge curtain. Through the years, the curtain had absorbed the incense, smoke and prayers of thousands of faithful people whose cares and difficulties were expressed in prayer before this holy altar. The curtain was sacred and could not be put out for curbside pickup. I contemplated a huge bonfire in front of the church, inviting the neighborhood and community for a sacred burning, but the hassle of getting permits from the City of Glendale, which was already annoyed by our presence there, made it easy to opt out of that choice.
That week, during our homeless feed, we were going through the streets of LA’s “skid row” when it hit me! The curtain could be divided into several blankets for our homeless brothers and sisters! And a project was born!
Several women from the Ministry brought over their sewing machines, others brought sewing shears, irons and manual labor. The church was converted into a sewing factor. I swear that there was music playing in the church that day, but I know it was a happy hum of the ladies doing what they knew was right.
They sewed and manufactured 50 blankets from fabric that smelled like incense and the housed the hopes, dreams, prayers and answers of the thousands. These Armenian gifts of hope were cleaned, wrapped and delivered to the residents of the street, with a small note of explanation and a prayer by St. Nersess Shnorhali. It came with the compliments of one group of people who were once homeless, to another group, that they might find hope for a better future.
On our weekly trips through skid row I would keep my eyes open to see if I would spot someone wearing or wrapped up in a piece of curtain or donning it like a cape. I thought what a beautiful expression of Jesus’ command to clothe the naked, to have a person walking the streets with an Armenian curtain, now turned blanket.
I never saw pieces of the curtain again, a tragic reminder as to how large the homeless population is in the City of Angels. That winter, I was sure that there were at least 50 people snug in a sacred blanket unlike any other. From an apostolic era church, the love of Christ was shared on the streets. It was one small miracle that came from the Armenian Church Youth Ministry Center.
Join me tomorrow as we continue with more stories of faith and miracles that were, 20 years ago today.
It was 20 years ago: Untold stories from the Youth Ministry Center
Today’s Inspiration: Suspended Angel
Barouyr* was a troubled kid. He was a 10th grader at Hoover High School when I met him outside the Youth Ministry Center. It was during the day, and he was pacing the sidewalk outside our church. He had been suspended from school. The school would dispense punishment according to the misbehavior of a student in a manner that escaped by understanding. Minor offenses led to detention – an after-school time spent in a supervised room with others. Enough detentions led to suspension – a period of time-off from the school. Finally, too many suspensions led to expulsion from the school.
There was Barouyr outside the church, looking around as if lost, but once you spoke with him you realized he was very aware of his surroundings. I greeted him and found a very respectful young man. We talked and he gave me excuses for being suspended, blaming teachers and administrators and their degree of “incompetence.” He was a young “tough guy.” He was from the streets and let me know he wasn’t afraid of anyone, but God.
At the time, I could not understand how suspending a student from classes could possibly be helpful for the child. Of course, it was easy to understand how it benefitted the teaching staff maintain a calm atmosphere in the classroom. At some point the discipline problem becomes overwhelming and there aren’t enough staff members to handle all the trouble-giving youth.
We went into the church. We talked. He opened up. His father was an alcoholic who abused his mother. They lived in a two-bedroom apartment. He and his older sister shared a room. He told me he didn’t want to be in school, but that rejection was merely a cover up, the tough-guy persona coming through. He was a bright guy who knew he wanted more.
The Soviet Union had disassembled a little over 10 years before we opened. The atheistic state had been prevalent for over seven decades. Domestic violence and alcoholism often accompanied one another as a result of life in the Soviet Union.
Barouyr became one of the regulars at the Youth Ministry. He grew up under the shadow of the church. On Sunday’s he served at the holy altar and during the week he was a regular fixture. I can’t tell you what it was that tied him there, suffice it to say he was one of the miracles of the ministry. In turn he inspired others to come to the church. Barouyr was no angel to the school authorities, but for the kids he turned-onto the church and this unique ministry, they could not have wished for a more caring guide from heaven. He retained his tough-guy exterior. He continued to get in trouble, but he was loved by everyone at the Center.
He ended up graduating and went to on to become a teacher himself. He still keeps in touch.
As a result of Barouyr, we found a new place within the community. The Center was seen as place that could pick up the pieces that were floating around. We put in a formal request with the school administrators to count us as an alternative to detention. We quickly became a go-to-point for students after school. The three schools across the way, Keppel Elementary, Toll Middle and Hoover High, ended their classes around 3PM and they walked over. Parents understood this to be a safe zone, where their children could “hang” until pick-up time. It was important for me that there was an understanding by everyone who came through its doors that the building was a Church.
I did not understand how suspending this student from classes could possibly help him. Now I understand that had he not been suspended our paths may not have crossed, or if they did, we may not have had the introduction we did. Like so many things that happened at the Youth Ministry Center, they just did. They weren’t planned. This was new and charted territory for the Armenian Church and we were following the flow, trusting the guidance of the Holy Spirit. That trust, from the Church, was perhaps the biggest miracle.
Tomorrow we continue with more untold stories and miracles from 20 years ago today. I invite you to join us. If you missed earlier episodes, you can hear them on your favorite podcatcher or at Epostle.net under the “Armodoxy for Today” tab. Remember to leave a comment and/or write us at feedback@epostle.net.
