Feasts

Today is the Feast of the Holy Cross. I wrote a post about this last year, but it's a new year, and a new church. Every church does things just a little bit differently, so I got to see what this church does. They not only bless the basil, but they bless the four corners of the earth too! Nice. The priest blesses the congregation by standing in the middle of the sanctuary and sprinkling blessed rosewater over the whole congregation. I got splashed a few times, so I literally left smelling like a rose! I notice that last year I mentioned that eating harisa (not the hot moroccan pepper, but a wheat porridge) is a tradition on this day, but it was the first day of Sunday School at this church, so they were having a big breakfast (breakfast, ha- I left church at 12:45!), which I didn't attend. Maybe they had harisa there?

The choir director sent someone to talk to me because he noticed that I have been there a few times, and I sing along with the choir. This happened at the other church too (on my first visit, actually- this is my third visit to this other church), but even though the choir director got my phone number (twice, in fact, once on two separate visits), no one ever called me, or showed me where to go, or told me when to show up, etc. So I will go back to this church next week, sing in the choir, and we will see. I am not giving up on the other church- I actually do want to go back!

Also, adult Armenian lessons start tomorrow. I need to call and ask how much they are! If they're not more than $250, I will take them.

Church Searching

I feel bad- I haven't updated this blog for a while, and I just got a really nice comment on my last post, so I am getting my behind in gear.

So we have moved to our new city, the "Glendale of the East", AKA Boston, MA. I am in a position that I have never been in before. I have my pick of several Armenian churches. There are three that are close to me, and that is just Armenian Apostolic. There are another two Armenian protestant churches too. I am going to stick with Armenian Apostolic for now, because, well, that is what I am.

The first Sunday that I was here, my mom, sister, and I drove down to Providence to go to church there. The priest at that church used to be the mission priest who came to my hometown during the years that I was away at college. My family flew him down about two years ago to conduct my grandfather's funeral, so I met him at that time. His church is really good, I think because the priest is a good one. The quality of the church seems to depend so much on the priest (although this is not the only factor; I think a strong, good congregation can overcome a less-than-terrific priest) I am not inclined to drive for an hour each way to go there on a regular basis since I have churches so close by, but his church is a good one, and I would be happy to be part of his community if I were living in Providence.

The second Sunday, I visited the church that is closest to me. The jury is still out on that one, but it seems fine. I skipped last Sunday, and will try the other church on this Sunday.

I was told by folks from the area who now go to my old church back West, the Eastern Diocese churches are a little more "modern" (by Armenian church standards) than the Eastern Prelacy churches. Is this true?? This whole Prelacy/Diocese, Etchmiadzin/Antelias thing is so strange to me- someone explained it to me back at my old church, and I think I understand it, more or less. Google isn't very helpful in coming up with answers to that question, so I had to ask someone directly.

Lent: Total Failure

So we are almost all the way through Lent (30+ days and counting), and it has been a total bust in terms of eating vegan. I started out with great intentions. I went to Trader Joe's and stocked up on key vegan staples like almond milk (because soy milk tastes nasty) and ready-made lentil dishes. I kept Lent for all of two weeks. And not even the whole two weeks; my goal was just to go vegan (maybe + fish in a pinch, since I knew we'd be travelling) on Wednesdays and Fridays, as recommended by the Eastern Diocese, who seems pretty understanding of the annoyances of cutting out all dairy and meat for almost 6 weeks.

The first week was tough, but no problem. Week two, we were travelling to all the cities where my husband got job offers. It just became impossible, although I did make it through both Wednesday and Friday. We would be eating breakfast somewhere where there was nothing but eggs or cereal (no almond milk) on the menu, people were taking us out for every meal to a restaurant where we often had zero input in choosing, there wouldn't be anything close to vegan on the menu, or even + fish (the fish would inevitably have some kind of brown butter sauce), or I would end up eating tofu and edamame, and that's it. I gave up. I thought I would get back into it when we got back from our 2 week trip, but we had to decide what job offer to take, which was incredibly stressful. A high-class problem, I know. But it was really stressful! I just couldn't handle devoting mental energy to both making this decision and also to holding myself back from eating cheese. Or yogurt. Or milk. Or eggs. I just couldn't do it.

Before we got any job offers but after the interviews, every time I would go to church, I would light a candle and say special prayers during Der Voghormia that my husband would get a really good offer in a place where we both would be happy and do well. He ended up with five offers total, which was amazing, and was selected as one of the top seven people on the job market this year (!!!!). He has worked really hard, but God has also blessed us.

While we were travelling, I made a point to visit whatever Armenian church was in town (all but one university have a church within a 30 minute drive). I visited the one in Cambridge MA, and the one in Trumbull CT (the Trumbull church is the friendliest church I have been to, bar none. I am serious!!!! Lots of people came up to us and talked to us afterwards, without us approaching a soul. Very impressive.). It became really clear to me that this decision was going to be hard, so at both churches, I lit candles and said special Der Voghormia prayers that we would make the right decision.

We have settled on a place; we will be heading to the Glendale of the East- Boston MA. Although the department isn't the best department where he had an offer, we think it is the right department in terms of our global happiness as a couple. I will say special prayers this week of thanksgiving, and also pray that we have made the right decision and that our instincts that we will be happy there are correct.

On Being A Visitor

While we were away last week, I took the opportunity to visit a local Armenian Church to celebrate the Theophany, and get my yearly rationing of holy water. I was pleasantly surprised at how friendly and welcoming this church was. This is the first time I've been to an Armenian Church where someone actually talked to me first. I admit, I was shocked. Before I even sat down, someone came over to introduce himself and ask me where I was from, etc. Turns out there had been a young adult party at his house the night before, and he also had another person there who was in town for the same conference that brought me to the area.

Since I like to give credit where credit is due, the church I visited was St. James Armenian Church in Evanston, IL. They have a young priest (a "Deacon-in-Charge" actually, which seems to be the step before becoming a Der Hayr? Not sure.), but on Sunday, they had a visiting priest from Detroit conducting Badarak.

In my regular church, the way they get through the service in the fastest way possible is to leave things out. For instance, instead of starting with Khorhoort Khoreen (Profound Mystery), we start with Miadzin Vorti (Only Begotten Son). This visiting priest, who was not very young (to be polite), had been around (in a church way), so his method of keeping the service snappy was to say the whole thing very, very fast. I was following along with the pew book (the brown one!), and it was tough. He was going FAST. Not just normal quick conversational speed, but the speed you hear when someone is saying the fine print at the end of a radio commercial.

Because it was Christmas, church was packed. It wasn't a big church (at least, the sanctuary wasn't big; the building itself seemed like it had lots of room), and you could tell by looking at the outside of the church that it hadn't originally been an Armenian church. If an Armenian church is built to be an Armenian Church, it is built in a very specific style. However, Armenians are a resilient people, so we will happily take a church that used to be Methodist, Baptist, Episcopal, or whatever this denomination used to worship there, and make it our own. On the inside, it looked like the other Armenian churches that I had been to. You have a place to light candles (where in the church this is located seems to vary from church to church), a raised platform where the faithful go up and receive communion and where the priest gives his sermon (this is one step up higher from where the congregation sits), and then you have the altar, which is raised up much higher than the congregation. You have to climb several steps to get up there, usually 3-5. You have the curtain that gets closed during part of Badarak (or the whole Badarak, as happens during Lent), the marble-looking altar thing (surely it can't really be marble, can it?), the gold crosses, the picture of Jesus and Mary (this church had a very European, Vermeerish looking picture instead of a more traditional Eastern-style, 2-dimensional iconograph).

When Badarak started, I was the only person in the congregation. No real surprise, since Armenians always run late. The church gradually filled up, and I ended up sharing my pew book with a Northwestern Ph.D. student originally from Glendale. I could tell from the way she was sneaking looks at my pew book that she needed one too, so I asked her if she wanted to share. Even though I have been attending church regularly for over a year now, I still need the book to know where we are, what is happening.

On the train from downtown, I was cramming like crazy to learn the two lines I needed to learn. First was the Christmas exchange. It goes like this:

Armenian #1: Krisdos dznav yev haydnetsav! (Christ is born and revealed among us!)
Armenian #2: Orhnyal eh haydnotyoonun Krisdosee! (Blessed is the revelation of Christ!)

I figured that I didn't really need to wish anyone Merry Christmas, so all I had to learn was the response, which was the same as the other exchange I was trying to learn last minute, the exchange for the Kiss of Peace. Protestant/Catholic churches also do some kind of passing/exchanging peace, usually consisting of shaking the hands of your neighbors seated around you and saying "Peace be with you." In the Episcopal churches that I have attended, Exchanging the Peace practically turns into coffee hour, with everyone going all over the church to say hi to their friends, talking to random strangers, and it tends to go on for 5 minutes or so, until the priest reins them all in.

In the Armenian Church, despite our deserved reputation for being loud, noisy, and social, we are very regimented when it comes to the Kiss of Peace. The deacon-in-charge (not always the priest) usually goes down, and starts the chain by "kissing" two of the other deacons, who then go out and distribute the "kiss" in the manner of playing Telephone down each row.

Let me clarify. There is no actual kissing involved. It's basically the miming of a European-style, double-kiss greeting on both cheeks, but instead of kissing, the person doing the kissing whispers Krisdos ee mech mer haydnetsav (Christ is revealed among us).

Then, the person receiving the kiss whispers back the same line you reply with for Christmas: Orhnyal eh haydnootyoonun Krisdosee. After you receive the kiss, you turn to your neighbor, move your face from one of their cheeks to the other, whispering Krisdos ee mech mer haydnetsav, and they reply back Orhnyal eh haydnootyoonun Krisdosee, and repeat.

The reason why I don't know these two lines is because a) Christmas only comes once a year, so it's not like I get to practice and b) with the Kiss of Peace, being in the Choir gets me out of participating, so I never had to learn. (It is kind of a relief- one fewer thing that I have to screw up on a regular basis). On the one hour train ride from downtown Chicago to Evanston, I kept repeating (sometimes out loud, but quietly) "Orhnyal eh haydnootyuonun Krisdosee! HaydnooTYUNun. HaydnooTYUNun. HaydnooTYUNun." And then I get to church, and I STILL screw it up. No one seemed to mind, though, and when the "kisser" got to me, he said it in English to make sure I understood.

Afterwards, I went up to the Deacon-in-charge and told him that he had a very friendly church, and I was very impressed. He asked my name, and I told him, and then he asked my last name. I repeated my very, very WASPY, not Armenian at all, last name (both married and maiden name are this way), and added "I am only half Armenian." He told me that did not matter at all, and not to even mention it, I was still Armenian, etc. My sister, in all of her experiences with the youth programs with the Eastern Diocese, has said that this attitude of "We're all Armenians!" is not universal, so I admit that I kind of expect it wherever I go. I'm only half, I don't speak much Armenian, etc. I told him "Keech me ge khosim." (I speak a little), and hey, he was happy.

My husband and I are just starting the process of finding out where we will be living starting next year. I am pleased to realize that everywhere he is interviewing is no more than about an hour away from an Armenian Church, and most are much closer than that.

Feast of the Evangelists

Saturday was the Feast of the Evangelists, namely the authors of the Gospels: Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John.

Unfortunately, I can't tell you any more about it than that, because the Eastern Diocese's website is down, and the priest only gave the barest of English translations during the sermon. This is something I have been thinking about in the last few days- church just doesn't seem very spiritual to me nowadays. I go, I sing the songs, I have fun talking to people, I feel a little smug because now I know what's going on, and I go home.

I think that part of this is the lack of emphasis on sermon-giving in the Armenian church (more on this in my "women in the church" post that I swear I will finish and post soon), and part of it is the fact that our priest is way more comfortable in Armenian than he is in English.

I introduced myself to someone who has started singing in the choir. She is a third-generation American, full Armenian, who grew up in Pasadena, which is a pretty serious Armenian community (not like Glendale, but you are still pretty plugged in). She doesn't speak or read Armenian, and we were comparing notes about how un-fun it is to go to church and feel excluded. She seems to feel that our church is not that welcoming to people who don't speak Armenian, maybe because she grew up in a big Armenian community where she didn't need to know Armenian, while I have had lots of experiences feeling totally rejected from different Armenian churches. In comparison, my current church is very friendly!

We started discussing my never-ending undercurrent concern about getting youngish people involved. She thinks that we need to be more welcoming to people who don't speak or read Armenian. I would agree with that, BUT it's hard to teach old dogs new tricks. I would like to see more English in the service, specifically good sermons in English, and the confession also in English. I think that this is probably too much to ask of the current priest, but a girl can dream, can't she?

In the meantime, we may try to think of ways that we can get people involved that ARE things that we can organize and do.

Taking Visitors

My mother-in-law was visiting us this weekend, and she wanted to go to church with me. Her biggest complaints were:

1) The service was not in English

and

2) It was impossible to follow along with the Badarak book. My church doesn't have the nice, new brown ones; it has the older blue ones. The new brown ones are easier to follow.

Afterwards, I introduced her to the choir director, and when my MIL started talking about how she wished the sermon was in English, the choir director very adeptly handled her complaints, by stating that we have a lot of people who don't speak English, and the service is in Classical Armenian anyway, which isn't what people speak, and perhaps it would work better if she looked at it as art, as a performance, rather than a religious ceremony.

She also said that if we did everything in the book, we'd be there for four hours! Hee. So true.

I elected to not sing with the choir yesterday so I could help my MIL follow along with the service. I think this was good- otherwise, she would have been completely lost.

It is kind of difficult to understand what is going on if you don't have someone to explain it to you. As a newcomer, I found that singing in the choir was by far the easiest and fastest way to get on board with what was going on.

Armenian Church Vocabulary

If you are like me, you know very, very little Armenian, either liturgical or conversational. This post will help you out with some of the vocabulary you will need to know to get along in the church:

Conversational

If you are visiting the Armenian Church for the first time, people will probably assume you know Armenian, and try to talk with you. In my regular church, people are happy if you even just know a little. This list will also help you out if you are an odar (outsider, i.e. a non-Armenian) dating an Armenian. If you are lucky (like me), you will be familiar with the pronunciation, and can pronounce "gh" and "kh" etc. This is all Western Armenian, by the way.

Eenchbes es/ek? - How are you? ("es" is "you are" informal, "ek" is "you are" formal. It's like tu/usted in Spanish)
Lav em - I am fine
Shad lav - very well
Paree looys - good morning
sireli - dear ones (you will sometimes hear the priest address the congregation as "sireli")
shnor hagalem - thank you
Keech keedem - I know a little (as in "I know a little Armenian")
chem keeder - I don't know
Ayo - yes
Voch/che - no. There is some disagreement among my sources about which to use when. Voch seems to be the formal "no" and che (literally "it's not") is the informal "no," but according to my mother, her mother wouldn't let them say "voch" because (and I'm translating loosely here) "brats say voch." Not sure what the real story is there, but "ayo" seems to be more helpful anyway, although knowing "che" will help you pick out the negative expressions in a conversation.
aysor - today

This is enough to get by. People will know you don't know Armenian, but they will appreciate your efforts nonetheless.

Liturgical

The liturgy is in Classical Armenian, which apparently isn't much like either Eastern or Western Armenian. Here are some terms that will help you understand what the heck is going on during the Badarak.

Badarak - literally, "sacrifice", but used to refer to Armenian church service.
Der Hayr/ Soorp Hayr- the priest. Der Hayr is a married priest, and Soorp Hayr is a celibate priest. Soorp Hayr may also possibly refer only to those celibate priests who have achieved a particular level in the hierarchy, but I am not sure about this. I don't think that this is the case, but it's possible (hey, we're all learning here)
Der voghormia - Lord, have mercy. This gets used A LOT in the service.
Soorp - Holy
Khatch - Cross
Hayr Mer - Our Father (the Lord's Prayer
Adzvadz - God
Hoki - spirit
Hokehankist - literally "spirit rest," hokehankist is the service after the Badarak said in memory of those who have died. You have it said a certain period of time after the death (40 days?), and then every year.