Why Does the Armenian Church Refer to Easter as 'Zadeeg'? «Զատիկ»

Although we commonly use the word Easter in the Armenian Church, why do we officially refer to the ‘Feast of the Resurrection of Jesus Christ’ as Zadeeg «Զատիկ»?

Originally, the word zadeeg «զատիկ» meant ‘sacrifice’, referring to the Passover sacrifice, where an animal was set aside as an offering to the Lord. This meaning is derived from the verb zadel «զատել» which means to put aside, separate, or set apart. Today, the word Zadeeg «Զատիկ» is simply translated as ‘Passover’, so if one were to read the Armenian translation of the Bible, any time word Passover is used, it would read Zadeeg «Զատիկ», but the idea of setting something aside or apart remains.

1. Setting aside a sacrificial Passover lamb was part of the larger event that ultimately delivered the Israelites from death and separated and freed them from Egyptian bondage and slavery as they passed through the desert on their way to the Promised Land. That event inspired the Jews to annaully celebrate their deliverance and separation from the Egyptians through a feast; a Passover meal (Exodus 12:3,11).
2. The event of Passover in the Old Testament is fulfilled in the person of Jesus Christ. He is the Passover Lamb (John 1:29). Thus, for Christians, the implication behind Zadeeg is that those baptized into the Church are freed from the slavery of sin and death; set apart as the New Israel (Galatians 3:27-28, 6:16). Jesus offered Himself on the cross for our deliverance; not just sacrificing His life, but giving it so that we can share in it through Communion; through His Body and Blood.
3. Lastly, when Christians began to celebrate Easter/Zadeeg, it was purposefully separated from the Jewish celebration of the Old Testament Passover. Again, although Zadeeg translates as Passover, it was fulfilled in Jesus Christ (I Corinthians 5:7-8), whom the Jews reject(ed) as the Messiah. And “as we are united to Jesus Christ, our life becomes an unending deliverance or ‘passover’ from evil“ (Orthodox Study Bible).

“Christ, the spotless Lamb of God is offered in sacrifice of praise”

~ Holy Badarak of the Armenian Orthodox Church

Sunday of the World Church

Odzun Monastery, Lori Province, Armenia (2012)

This Sunday (April 19, 2015), according to the Armenian Church calendar, is “Sunday of the World Church” «Աշխարհամատրամ Կիրակի». Little is definitively known about the origin of this feast day, or why it is also referred to as “Green Sunday” «Կանաչ Կիրակի». What we do know comes from the hymn/sharagan of the day which contains the theme of blessing/consecrating a chapel (a more accurate translation of the feast day is, “Sunday of the World Chapel” implying the physical building of a church «մատուռ», rather than the word for Church (Yegeghetsee/Եեկեղեցի), which implies a community of believers).

Again, which specific church/chapel is unknown, but it was most likely located in Jerusalem. An excerpt of the hymn (translated by Very Rev. Fr. Daniel Findikyan) that we sing during our morning service «Առաւօտեան ժամ» tells us what Armenian Christians believe the Church, which includes the building, to be. Why do we meet there to worship? Is the building merely a meeting point? Or is the church building and architecture a reflection of the living and believing community within its walls? What can it say concerning what we believe about God?

We worship you, Christ, who made yourself known to us through the holy apostles, Lord God of our Fathers. Having become your disciples by the holy apostles, we learned to glorify you in the temple of your holiness, which you founded upon the rock of faith, Lord, God of our Fathers. Come, people of the nations, let us joyfully celebrate the inauguration/dedication of the holy church, praising the Lord God of our Fathers. Together with the bodiless multitudes, all nations forever praise and highly exalt Christ the King who comes today into the holy church. Come into the church, people whose faith is in the Holy Trinity. Praise God. Joyfully celebrate to the edges of the table, and highly exalt him forever.

I Peter 2:5 – “like living stones, you are being built into a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ.”

Great and Holy Friday: Do We Mourn or Celebrate?

The Entombment of Christ
Monastery of St. George, Balu, 1437

In the Armenian Church, on Holy Friday of Holy Week, we celebrate the ‘Service of Burial’, where we prepare and place a figure of the tomb of Jesus in the center chancel. We decorate the tomb with candles and fresh flowers, and place burning incense within it.

It’s one of the many beautiful traditions of the Armenian Church, but what is it that we are really doing besides carrying on tradition? Are we metaphorically and visually going back in time to mourn the death of Jesus Christ? Are we reenacting the drama of the crucifixion and burial of Jesus, as we solemnly memorialize and honor His death?

As with any liturgical celebration of events, and contrary to what may be popular belief and practice, the Church isn’t at all participating in nostalgia. It’s much, much deeper, and here’s why…

When we partake of Holy Communion, we are not eating and drinking to the memory of the Last Supper or Jesus’ crucifixion. As St. Paul wrote to the Corinthians concerning Holy Communion, “is it not a participation in the blood of Christ? The bread which we break, is it not a participation in the body of Christ?”

Also, when we are baptized, it is not the memory of Jesus’ death and burial into which we are baptized. Rather, when we are immersed in water at baptism, we are truly and mystically united to Jesus’ actual death, burial, and resurrection. And it just so happens that the ‘Service of Burial’ on Holy Friday is a recalling of our Baptism. Read the following from Romans 6:3-5…

Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, so that as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life. For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his.

From our perspective, the events of the Last Supper, and Jesus’ death, burial, and resurrection are past events on the linear timeline of history. But from God’s perspective, time is not linear. It is not a reenactment of the sacrifice of Jesus when we celebrate Holy Communion, but a participation in the one eternal sacrifice. Likewise, our baptism is not a static event locked into the past, but an ongoing and active event in our daily lives, and so every moment lived for God is a participation in the actual event of Jesus’ death and burial.

This is not to say that we shouldn’t approach our services on Holy Friday without solemnity. In fact, we are instructed to sing with a special solemn melody, but what we do not do is go back in time and pretend to mourn for the crucifixion of Jesus all over again.

As Christians, we know how the story ends. And so our attitude, as with any service throughout the Church year, should be one of celebration.

Holy God

Holy and mighty

Holy and immortal

You who were buried for us

Have mercy on us

Gratitude to Fr. Daniel Findikyan and Fr. Stephen Freeman for this insight.

The Feast of Vartanants: What is it Really About?

A 15th century Armenian miniature depicting the Battle of Avarayr

The Feast of Vartanants (St. Vartan the General and the 1036 Martyrs) is celebrated on the Thursday before Great Lent. In 451 A.D., under the leadership of St. Vartan Mamigonian and St. Ghevond the Priest, Armenians fought the Battle of Avarayr against the Persians who were attempting to force Armenians to renounce their Christian faith in order to orient them toward Persia instead of Byzantium, and Armenians, as Christians, were an obstacle toward that political end.

But for Armenians, this battle transcended the earthly and political ideals of freedom of religion, freedom of conscience, and national identity. Armenians knew they possessed something that could not be taken away. A few years before the battle, Armenian princes sent a letter to the Persian King which read, “From this faith, no one can shake us…We choose no other God than Jesus Christ for there is no other God. …Here we are; our bodies are in your hands; do with them as you please.” In his sermon to the soldiers before the battle, St. Ghevond said, “Our hope appears to us as double: If we die, we shall live, and if we put to death, the same life lies before us.” Whether the Armenian soldiers lived or died, the Battle of Avarayr meant victory in Jesus Christ because, “He Himself…loved us that He took death on Himself that we, by His death, might be freed from eternal death.”

Once again, we see Jesus Christ as central to the faithful of the Armenian Church. Not even death mattered to St. Vartan and his soldiers, because they believed that eternal life in Jesus Christ could not be taken away. Over the centuries, Armenians have continuously sacrificed earthly pleasures and political ideals for their identity in Christ, because they knew that nothing else in this world compares to the Kingdom of God. Today, may we emulate the faith of our ancestors.

But the souls of the righteous are in the hand of God,
and no torment will ever touch them.
In the eyes of the foolish they seemed to have died,
and their departure was thought to be an affliction,
and their going from us to be their destruction;
but they are at peace.
For though in the sight of men they were punished,
their hope is full of immortality.
Having been disciplined a little, they will receive great good,
because God tested them and found them worthy of himself;
like gold in the furnace he tried them,
and like a sacrificial burnt offering he accepted them.
In the time of their visitation they will shine forth,
and will run like sparks through the stubble.
They will govern nations and rule over peoples,
and the Lord will reign over them for ever.
~ Wisdom of Solomon 3:1-8

Click here to view a worthy discussion from 2014 about the Feast of Vartanants given by Very Rev. Fr. Daniel Findikyan.

St. Anthony of the Desert

“A time is coming when men will go mad, and when they see someone who is not mad, they will attack him saying, “You are mad, you are not like us.”  ~ St. Anthony of the Desert

St. Anthony was born in Egypt in 251 A.D. One day, while attending Liturgy, he heard the words from the Gospel of Matthew that Jesus spoke to a wealthy young man, “If you would be perfect, go, sell what you possess and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.” Deeply impressed by these words, St. Anthony decided to do just this, and in 285 A.D. he went alone into the Egyptian desert to live an ascetic life in complete solitude, wholly dedicated to God.

His life consisted of praying, meditating, fasting, and staying awake for days in order to overcome temptation. As he underwent further spiritual struggles, he slept on the ground, had visions, spoke wisdom to visitors, and eventually, his reputation attracted followers to whom he became a spiritual father. As a result of his life and efforts, St. Anthony is considered the father of monasticism.

St. Anthony did leave the desert on at least two occasions, both times to travel to Alexandria. Once to comfort the persecuted Christians there, and another time in 325 A.D. to support Bishop Athanasius at the First Council of Nicaea. After returning to the desert, St. Anthony died in 365 A.D. at the age of 105. His resting place is still unknown.

Of course, Christian monasticism, as it has been practiced up to today, owes its influence to St. Anthony, but how is the life of St. Anthony at all relevant to those of us who are not monks? Well, as counter-cultural as his life may sound, he sacrificed all distractions that would get in the way of being with God. Whatever it took. That is why he, among other Desert Fathers, serves as a model of early and authentic Christian spirituality. Even today, as urban dwellers, we are called to the same kind of dedication. We don't have to move to the desert, but we all have misplaced priorities and distractions. St. Anthony can point us toward the end for which we were created. To follow Jesus, whatever it takes.

In his inspirational account of the life of St. Anthony, St. Athanasius wrote, “Anthony was not known for his writings nor for his worldly wisdom, nor for any art, but simply for his reverence toward God."

For what will we be known?

Image: St. Anthony surrounded by beasts of the desert. Frontispiece to the earliest Lives of the Fathers, Caffa (Crimea), 1430.

What is the Gospel?

One of the many feasts days within the Armenian Orthodox Church is the day we remember and venerate the Holy Evangelists: Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John.

But why do we remember the Holy Evangelists during our Church year? Were they just biographers? Are not the Gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John merely historical narratives of the story of Jesus? Perhaps we should ask what is the Gospel? Is it an idea? As "good news" isn't it just a message?


Although these may be common beliefs and modern perspectives, the fathers of the Armenian Church, as well as other ancient Christian traditions, emphasized a different way of perceiving the Gospel and the Holy Evangelists.

The Gospel, in fact, is not an idea or a message, and the Holy Evangelists should not be remembered as being mere biographers of historical narratives about Jesus. The Gospel, according to St. Paul in the first chapter of Galatians, is not an idea to be thought about or conceptualized. He writes, "For I would have you know, brethren, that the gospel which was preached by me is not man's gospel. For I did not receive it from man, nor was I taught it, but it came through a revelation of Jesus Christ." [RSV] Instead, the Gospel was received and it came by way of revelation, or an encounter with Jesus Christ.

Agreeing with Fr. Stephen Freeman here, the Gospel is to be understood as an event, not the story of an event. The letters of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John are not a text about the Gospel – they are the Gospel. In other words, they are the Gospel presented as text. The Gospel is the Event of Jesus Christ, who is the “Good News”, and the Holy Evangelists are witnesses to that Event; to the saving action and Life of Jesus Christ. That Event is to be received and encountered.

Even within our Liturgy, chanting the Gospel is not only a lesson for our minds, but a real meeting with the person of Jesus Christ. The Choir’s proclamation before the Gospel is chanted, "Aseh Asdvadz  [God is speaking]," reflects this. When the deacon elevates the Gospel book over his head or whenever we kiss the Gospel book, we are lovingly acknowledging its value and authority in and over our lives. The Gospel, the Event of Jesus Christ, is that by which we live and that by which we are judged.

Thus, when we commit ourselves to the Gospel, we are committing ourselves to Jesus Christ. As Christians, we are called to be and live the Gospel, not presented as text, but as a living narrative; as human icons of Jesus Christ. God has chosen us collectively, as His Church, to be His evangelists and witnesses for others to receive and encounter the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Participate in the sacramental life of the Church. Feed the poor. Visit the sick. Forgive your enemy.

And love.

image: 1338 Armenian illumination of the four Evangelists from the Gospels of Melkisedek: Berkri, Lake Van.

Are You a Translator?

During the Armenian Orthodox Church year (in October), we remember the "Holy Translators Mesrop, Yeghishe, Moses the Poet, David the Philosopher, Gregory of Narek, and Nerses the Graceful".

These well-known saints are remembered on other days within the Church year, but this particular feast day remembers them specifically as translators (թարգմանչաց). Typically, we think of the Holy Translators as being Sts. Mesrop and Sahag due to their translation of the Bible into the Armenian language in the 5th century. But if translation, according to the Armenian Orthodox Church, simply refers to the practice of rendering something into another language, then why remember a mystic such as St. Gregory of Narek as a translator? What does it mean to translate according to the Armenian Orthodox tradition and way of thinking?

Translation can and does include the rendering of something into another language, but there is another level. Translation, as Armenians perceived it, is considered elucidation or the explaining of our faith through various mediums such as, prayers, hymns, poetry, philosophy, and even history. All of these, according to our Church, have been (and still can be) devotional practices of “translating” the Christian faith to and for the Armenian faithful. Translation, then, goes beyond the skill of finding equivalent words between languages. It is the impartation of Christ to His people; to those who will also become translators for His Church. How will we, today, translate the Gospel to others?

The Language of the Armenian Church

What is the language of the Armenian Church? Is it Classical Armenian (Գրաբար)? Is it English? Maybe both? It's easy to get tied up in discussions about the linguistic beauty, as well as the linguistic challenges of our tradition, but I would like to propose an answer that transcends earthly and ethnic ideas about language. The language of the Armenian Church is the same as it is, and always was, in every other Christian Church - prayer:  one of the most essential elements of our faith, and yet one of the most mysterious and burdensome.

Mysterious in that there are still so many questions surrounding its practice, and so much time spent talking about what it even means. Also, we are confronted with, and continue to discover different practices attached to prayer, or even customs and traditions to which prayer attaches itself so naturally.

But prayer is also burdensome for the same reasons. Burdensome in that after centuries of practice, we sometimes still don't know what it is, or how to do it, and so for all of us, at one time or another, prayer causes deep frustration. We're fatigued and bored when our prayers go unanswered. It becomes monologue, and so we give up and avoid prayer altogether.

Personally, I relate to both the mysterious and burdensome elements of prayer. And although many of these challenges and obstacles to prayer are quite obvious within our private prayer life where we tend to have one-on-one conversation with God, perhaps reflecting on the Armenian Church's public and communal prayer life can remind us and authenticate the profound beauty and function of prayer.

Of course, the prayer services (there are 9 hours/services*) we celebrate in the Armenian Church have been passed down to us from either monastic or parish practice, and some of the beauty of this form of prayer resides in its structure. Each hour/service calls us together to pray even when we don’t feel like it, and I'm sure I'm not the only Christian who sometimes doesn't want to pray, or doesn't have the spiritual energy to do so. Scheduled and disciplined prayer in a community with like-minded and like-hearted believers allows others to pick up the slack when physical exhaustion, preoccupation, worries, or a bad hair day prevents us from offering the sacrifice of praise with our whole being.

For the Armenian Church, as well as the ancient Church in general, the heart of communal prayer lies in the recitation of the Psalms of the Bible. Without speaking on behalf of other traditions, at least for the Armenian Church, the Psalms make up roughly about 50% of the liturgy, which includes not only the prayer hours/services, but also other sacraments as well. Evidently, Armenians found the beauty of the Psalms to encapsulate the poetic and prayerful nature of our faith and theology. After all, theology within the Armenian tradition is not an abstract or scientific discipline of contemplating ideas. Theology is our faith prayerfully and actively lived out in discipleship to Jesus Christ, and there is a reason why poetry best expresses what we believe as Christians of the Armenian Church.

St. Paul writes, "…but be filled with the Spirit, addressing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody to the Lord with all your heart, always and for everything giving thanks in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ to God the Father." ~ Ephesians 5:18-20 (RSV). The Armenian Orthodox Church followed St. Paul's instructions by composing a myriad of hymns, and melodies beyond compare to accompany these hymns. Like the Psalms, the content of these hymns beautifully expresses our theology, as well as the love and gratitude Christian Armenians had for God.

Finally, there is the beauty of community inherent within these prayer hours/services. Not only did St. Paul instruct us to sing and make melody, but also to address one another when doing so. In opposition to the individualistic mentality of our contemporary society (I choose my beliefs, I create my destiny, I am what I choose to be, This is my life, My personal Lord and Savior), authentic Christianity is a communal faith and life, and by its very nature cannot be lived in solitude. Any attempt to do so would be an exercise in something other than the Christian faith. I would even contend that "private prayer" is a practice of and within the Church community. As was mentioned above, when we don't want to pray, we can count on others praying and believing for us. We pray, believe, and are saved as a community; the beautiful and collective Bride of Christ.

As believers, we are invited and are inviting others into this same communion--with God and with one another. But to lead and be led to the heart of God requires a disciplined life of prayer, which is not just asking God for stuff, and can easily devolve into selfish wish-making. Throughout Scriptures, and within various Christian traditions, there are numerous forms of prayer, some of which don't ask God for a thing. They are simply expressions of the privilege we have as disciples of Christ to worship God for who He is. There are numerous examples of these prayers throughout the Armenian liturgy. For example, the priest's prayer from the Armenian Badarak,

«Զքեզ արդարեւ Տէր Աստուած մեր գովեմք եւ զքէն գոհանամք հանապազ…»

"We do indeed praise you and give thanks to you at all times…"

In prayer, we take the ugliness we see in the world, the brokenness we see in others, and the darkness we see in ourselves - the distress, loneliness, materialism, sickness, disease, death, war, violence, poverty, and greed - and those anxieties become prayer and are transformed into beautiful psalmody before the Lord. As St. Gregory of Narek, our holy mystic, opens his monumental prayer book,

"The voice of a sighing heart, its sobs and mournful cries,

I offer up to you, O Seer of Secrets,

placing the fruits of my wavering mind

as a savory sacrifice on the fire of my grieving soul

to be delivered to You in the censer (poorvar) of my will".

Through prayer, our ailing hearts find salve and healing by touching the heart of God, which is love. And that love changes us into the image of God, which will then be visible wherever we go, to whomever we meet, and in whatever capacity we prayerfully serve and bless God's beautiful creation.

«Եւ եւս խաղաղութեան զտէր աղաչեսցուք։

Ընկալ, կեցո եւ ողորմեա։»

"Again in peace let us make our request to the Lord.
Receive our prayers, raise us to life, and have mercy on us."

*Morning, Sunrise, Midday 1, Midday 2, Midday 3, Evening, Rest, Peace, Night

An Ancient Story… Still Relevant

A brother at Scetis committed a fault. A council was called to which Abba Moses was invited, but he refused to go to it. Then the priest sent someone to say to him, "Come, for everyone is waiting for you." So he got up and went. He took a leaking jug, filled it with water and carried it with him. The others came out to meet him and said to him, "What is this, Father?" The old man said to them, "My sins run out behind me, and I do not see them, and today I am coming to judge the errors of another." When they heard that they said no more to the brother but forgave him.

We are all broken and need healing. We are all individually, as well as collectively responsible for the state of the world and humanity as it is. We all have stories of injustices committed toward us, and we tell them often. These are real to life, and not to be undermined, but do we have any stories of forgiveness to tell?

Everywhere and anywhere you are, greet one another with a holy kiss. A kiss of peace and forgiveness…

Love and humility. Spread it.

Desert Father, Saint Moses the Black or Abba Moses the Robber, was an ascetic monk and priest in Egypt in the fourth century AD (330–405)

Suffering Prayer: Does it Cross the Line?

We’re familiar with the story of Job. There’s a heavenly wager between God and Satan, of which Job is ignorant, regarding the motivation of Job's worship of God, and whether or not it is truly authentic. As Job is minding his own business, everything he owns is taken, including his family and health. The remainder of the book follows with dialogue between Job and his friends, as well as between Job and God.

Read one of the prayers of Job after his friends once again fail to properly hear his suffering…

“…Surely now God has worn me out; he has made desolate all my company. And he has shriveled me up, which is a witness against me… He has torn me in his wrath, and hated me; he has gnashed his teeth at me... God gives me up to the ungodly, and casts me into the hands of the wicked. I was at ease, and he broke me asunder; he seized me by the neck and dashed me to pieces;
he set me up as his target, his archers surround me.
He slashes open my kidneys, and does not spare; he pours out my gall on the ground. He breaks me with breach upon breach; he runs upon me like a warrior. I have sewed sackcloth upon my skin, and have laid my strength in the dust. My face is red with weeping, and on my eyelids is deep darkness; although there is no violence in my hands,
and my prayer is pure.”    ~ Job 16:1-22 (excerpt)

Directness is not a characteristic Job lacks. But did he go too far in how he expressed himself to God? Perhaps we withhold words from God, because we believe them to be unwholesome, or perhaps reflect a rebellious attitude, or even hatred toward God. I don’t believe any of us are strangers to what Job is expressing in this prayer, and his voice might even resonate with exactly what we are feeling, or have felt at one time.

Too far? Well, Job claims that his prayer is pure.

Maybe someone close to you listened to you voice your pain and questions, and perhaps like Job’s friends they tried, with good intentions, to play the role of savior, or counselor. They might have even judged or condemned your “rebellious” approach to prayer and the holiness of God, leaving you confused as to how you should (if you should) express your honest thoughts to God.

I agree with Pierre Wolff in his book, May I Hate God?*, and believe that Job’s prayer speaks deeply to who God is, and who we are in relation to Him. When we express harsh feelings, grief, hatred, and sorrow, it presupposes trust and love. But how?

When we trust God, we are able to freely express our grief. By expressing ourselves, we believe He’s able to take it; that with Him, we can reveal ourselves as we really are.

If our words/prayers are accepted, then love is present. The risk we take in expressing ourselves to God is proportionate to the love we believe is there, and we risk because we believe love is able to save.

So, this kind of expression is actually a desire for reconciliation and healing. Healing for our selves of course, but...

It also happens to be the cry of God’s voice to the world for healing. It seems as if we are revolting against God with our “whys”, when the “whys” we direct toward Him are really (or also) expressions of His revolt. Instead of us accusing God, God is sorrowfully questioning the world through us.

• Why do you distort my creation?
• Why do you exploit and hate each other?
• Why do you continue to forsake My Way, when I promised eternal life?
• Why do you commune with every sinful attraction, rather than my eternal love?

It’s not whether our words are right or wrong, good or bad, but whether we love our Father enough to tell Him everything, whether we believe in the immensity of His love which can understand any kind or level of sorrow.

So what does Job’s suffering prayer tell us?

It speaks of the immensity of God’s love, and the Resurrection power of Christ. God accepts our words, and so Love is present. And when we acknowledge He is still alive and present in our lives, this is the power of the Resurrection. And through this Love and Resurrection life, we find healing; still wounded, but transformed. And because we have mourned, and experienced God’s love through it, we are better able to comfort others with the same compassion we received from God.

Job trusted God, and knew God. He knew God was Love, He knew Love was present, and whether or not what Job lost was restored (the story happens to end with him being restored) communion with God was present, because where there is compassion, there is communion. Job found consolation – not from his friends, but by being brutally honest, and trusting the God who is not always apparent, but is always and everywhere present.

* May I Hate God? by Pierre Wolff; Paulist Press, 1979.

Image: Illumination of Job from the Syriac Bible