Perhaps the holiest moment in the Armenian Divine Liturgy is when the congregation fills the church with the singing of the Lord’s Prayer. We begin with the words Hayr Mer—“Our Father”; but what really do we mean by referring to God as a “father” Do we mean that God brought us into this world? That He is responsible for our welfare until we can go off on our own? Do we think of God as a stern disciplinarian, who will punish us if we go astray? Or do we expect Him to treat us with fatherly favoritism, and turn a blind eye to our faults and misdeeds?
He would become a figure of enduring spiritual stature in the Armenian Church. But he began his sojourn among our people as a stranger. This Saturday we will honor his memory once more—some 17 centuries after his death—during the Feast of St. Sarkis the Warrior.
There were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid.
December 7, 2018, marks 30 years since the 1988 earthquake struck Armenia. The excerpt here, from The Torch Was Passed (1998), recounts how the Armenian-American community came together in those early days to focus on alleviating the suffering in their homeland.
December 7, 2018, marks 30 years since the 1988 earthquake struck Armenia. The excerpt here, from The Torch Was Passed (1998), recounts how the news broke to the Armenian-American community, and how the world replied in the immediate aftermath.