Translators – “Key” Message
/0 Comments/in WritingsYettem in Glendale – “Key” Message
/0 Comments/in Writings*The “Key” is the weekly newsletter of the St. Peter Armenian Church, Glendale, CA – Jesus asked the Disciples, “Who do YOU say that I am?” Peter responded “You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God.” Jesus promised the Keys to the Kingdom for this profession of faith. (Mt 16) At the St. Peter, Glendale Parish, our faith and actions are based on that same profession of faith. It is the Key that opens the doors to our journey as Christians…
Days we used to know; Now 29 years later.
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Ian & Me – 1994 in San Jose, CA |
try to find new words to say,
I think about the bad old days
we used to know.
Nights of winter turn me cold —
fears of dying, getting old.
We ran the race and the race was won
by running slowly.
Could be soon we’ll cease to sound,
slowly upstairs, faster down.
Then to revisit stony grounds,
we used to know.
Remembering mornings, shillings spent,
made no sense to leave the bed.
The bad old days they came and went
giving way to fruitful years.
Saving up the birds in hand
while in the bush the others land.
Take what we can before the man
says it’s time to go.
Each to his own way I’ll go mine.
Best of luck with what you find.
But for your own sake remember times
we used to know.
My growth through orthodoxy has been nurtured by many factors, perhaps non greater than the music that has filled my ears from childhood – church music, ethnic Armenian music, the beat on the streets and the incredibly large collection of music by Jethro Tull. In fact, I can safely say that the music of Jethro Tull pushed me to the priesthood. It has been a constant tune that has been playing in the background as I grew and developed. It has kept beat with me and by the Grace of God, it has been a constant in my life for the last 40+ years, consistently inspiring me, with genius lyrics coupled with complex tunes and a nasally voice that mimics the best of the Armenian deacons of the old world. (Only last year I found a group that had made the connection with me – Bambir and their album, “Armenian Scotch” connecting the dots between the Caucasus mountains of Armenia and the Highlands of the United Kingdom.)
So lean upon Him gently, and don’t call on Him to save you from your social graces and the sins you use to waive. …
Praying Solves All My Problems – “Key” Message
/0 Comments/in WritingsPrayer for 10th Anniversary of 9/11
/0 Comments/in WritingsThis morning at 6:58 – 10 years to the date and time of the 9/11 attack we gathered at the Glendale Fire Department for a commemorative service. The names of the fallen fire-fighters were remembered with a solemn reading. I was asked to offer the prayer. Please join me with yours.
May we never forget the tragedy of that day – may the memory of all those lives-lost keep us vigilant in our resolve to seek peace and work for justice. Likewise, may we be inspired by the bravery of those who walked into tragedy while most were fleeing. May we celebrate the courage of those who stood and stand today helping others, as a testament to the power of love.
As we leave today, strengthen us as Americans to look beyond our prejudices and see YOUR presence in all the people we confront. Fill us – each of us – with faith, hope and love – to have faith in a brighter tomorrow, to hope for the goodness in everyone, and to do everything with love in our hearts.
The Man from Ick
/0 Comments/in WritingsDuring the last few weeks we’ve been discussing the institution of the Church in our weekly podcast, The Next Step. (episodes #165. 166 & 167 – https://epostle.net). We’ve been referring to a story called “The Man from Ick” and its surprise ending. I’ve used this story throughout the years to start conversation about the church and her mission. Here is the story in its entirety. You can hear it read in “Ani’s Bubble” as part of Next Step #166 http://www.epostle.net/archives.html
After breaking through the glass bubble, they were shocked to find the entire population of Ick Hill dead. Autopsies were ordered, and the cause of death was the same for all: suffocation.
From:
Creative Learning Experiences
Edited by Wane Rice, John Roberto and Mike Yaconelli
St. Mary’s Press, Christian Brothers Publications, Winona Minnesota
p. 53-55
“Praying Solves all of My Problems”
/0 Comments/in WritingsJust this morning I was in the doctor’s office as a two-week follow-up to my surgery. The nurse who took my vitals was wearing one of those stretchy-charm bracelets – the kind with the small pictures and icons on them.
Eve of Fathers’ Day/Sunday of Holy Trinity
/0 Comments/in WritingsCheap Day Return
On Preston Platform
do your soft-shoe shuffle dance
Brush away the cigarette ash
that’s falling down your pants
And then you sadly wonder
DOES THE NURSE TREAT YOUR OLD MAN
the way she should?
She made you tea,
asked for your autograph —
what a laugh.
– Ian Anderson (while leaving his father at the hospital on a cheap-day-return trip)
The days between the day of diagnosis and today have melded together. How do you refer to this mass? An ordeal? The cancer? It includes diagnosis, testing, verifying malignancy, consulting, expressing, surgery, hospitalization – pre-op and post-op, recovery, and the healing. The entirety is separated into small episodes – each one contributing to the next, directly, each episode offering its lessons for the day and the entire healing process.
I like that. The ordeal is “the healing.”
I know I didn’t experience the traditional stages in reacting to tragedy. Most noticeably lacking were anger and denial, but I did experience small episodes that came together and continue to come together to produce the whole story of diagnosis, confirmation, waiting, removing and recovery from the cancer. The Healing. And add to the episode the characters – the doctors, the family, the caretakers, the friends, the messages, the flowers, the concerned – each character involved in each of the episodes responds and reacts uniquely establishing the roots to a new story, all part of the whole.
Last Saturday night my son Varoujan came in from Phoenix and visited me at the hospital. He and his brothers would represent our family at my niece Ani’s graduation from nursing school – a party that night and the pinning service the following afternoon. Ani became a RN whilst I was hospitalized – Susan and I enjoyed the pictures and stories, and the boys got their fill from the events. Each of us, with a unique view and vantage of this milestone.
Our sons view the healing from different perspectives – each from his own unique perspective, each reacting to the episodes and circumstances of the day, each of them crafting and creating their own personal reflection of dad’s suffering, illness, hospitalization or recovery, recorded in the journal of their mind’s memory, to affect circumstances and situations to come.
By Sunday, I had taken a small detour in the recovery process. The small intestines were not reacting. That night became one of the most violent ones in the hospitalization process.The boys stopped by the hospital that night on their way to the airport. Varoujan said goodbye along with his wishes for my recovery. He wished me an early “Happy Fathers’ Day” with, “I probably won’t be able to come next week.” This will be the first Fathers’ Day apart. This day was coming as it came in my life – the day when life and life’s circumstances would separate me and my dad on Fathers’ Day. Nevertheless, even today while it’s been over 20 years since his death, I am still with my dad on Fathers’ Day. I have that confidence that Varoujan is with me and I with him in his thoughts and life.
As Varoujan took off for the airport, in this small episode in the “healing” process, I remembered the line from the 1971 Tull song, Cheap Day Return. Ian Anderson stood on Preston Platform, leaving the hospital where his father lay thinking does the nurse treat his old man, the way she should? … You’re out there thinking… on a platform, a hospital bed or a air terminal. You’re wondering quietly or aloud about all that you experience and that thought process is what connects these seeming islands of episodes into one story. For now, it fits into the story of my recovery. It turns into the story of life for our family and later as part of the human story of love. The episodes come together and forms the story of healing.
The Sunday of the Holy Trinity is celebrated on this Sunday following Pentecost. It reminds us of the Mystery – Father, Son and Holy Spirit, each unique, each equal, each a part of the Whole which some may call God, others the Universe, others still, the Healing.
One Hundred Eleven – Anush Named Woman of the Year
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