Way back in an earlier post, I mentioned that I had gotten some conflicting information about when to use "voch" and when to use "che." Voch is the formal way to say "no", and che is the informal way. Che literally means "it's not."
My mom told me a while ago that she was not allowed to say "voch" at home, that her mother said that "brats say voch." The people at church thought this was strange, because voch is more proper.
Over Thanksgiving, my mom's older sister and her husband were visiting, and I asked her about voch/che. This particular sister is really, really into being Armenian, and is also very bright, so I knew she would be able to help me.
Mystery solved. The people at church were right. My mom wasn't allowed to say voch, but not because it was rude per se, it was because she was not allowed to say no to her mother. If her mother asked her to do something, the answer always had to be "ayo!" (yes). Voch = talking back.
This conversation then launched into a discussion about how my grandmother was so much stricter with the older girls than with my mom, who was the baby. The older girls were not even allowed to give their mom a dirty look. My aunt (third child, second oldest girl, 8 years older than my mother) was saying that she could not speak her mind at all, had to keep her mouth shut, could not even look at their mom funny. Total obedience. However, my mom was able to pretty much do what she wanted.
I laughed and laughed and laughed on the inside at this story, because I would say that when my sister and I were growing up, my mother's expectations were definitely closer to how my aunt described those for the older girls than those for my mother. We were not allowed to say no either! Always yes.
Thursday, January 18, 2007
Dear Eric Bogosian,
In this week's Newsweek magazine, there is an article asking a bunch of celebrity baby boomers what is next on their To-Do lists. One of them was Eric Bogosian, and the first thing on his list was "Learn Armenian."
Well, for Mr. Bogosian and anyone else out there who would like to learn Armenian, let me point you towards some resources. My resources are almost all for Western Armenian, because that is what I am trying to learn.
Language Tapes
I think the best one out there is Pimsleur's Western Armenian. Pimsleur has a an Eastern Armenian version as well. I actually wrote the lone user review, so I won't repeat it here.
Another option, not as good, is the VocabuLearn series. I haven't listened to Level 2. The lone review of this product is also mine. I should note that I wrote it before the Pimsleur was available. If you have to pick one, go with Pimsleur; it is much better. I think the VocabuLearn is only 3 stars in comparison. I may see if I can go back and edit it.
Books
One of my favorite resources, Armenian Dictionary in Transliteration by Armenian language guru and fellow Penn grad Thomas Samuelian, is no longer in print. I am not sure that it is worth the $100 for a used copy through amazon.com, but you may be able to find it through a church bookstore or other Armenian resource. I found mine through Hye Family, although it looks like they are no longer selling books. For people who cannot read the Armenian alphabet, this is an invaluable resource. I cannot recommend it highly enough. I wrote one of the reviews on the amazon.com page; mine doesn't stand alone, this time!
Another great resource is Modern Western Armenian for the English Speaking World by Dora Sakayan. This is worth every penny of the $60-$70 you will pay for it. There is enough transliteration to enable you to use it if you don't know the alphabet, but it will help you learn the alphabet and get better at reading. You can't buy it new from amazon.com anymore, but you can buy it from St. Vartan's bookstore (the official bookstore of St. Vartan's Cathedral in NYC). I bought mine from Abril bookstore in Glendale, CA, along with a set of children's flashcards to learn the alphabet, which help a little, but really aren't as helpful as just doing a lot of transliteration.
Sometimes your local Armenian church will offer adult Armenian classes; I advice checking with them, if you have one.
Well, for Mr. Bogosian and anyone else out there who would like to learn Armenian, let me point you towards some resources. My resources are almost all for Western Armenian, because that is what I am trying to learn.
Language Tapes
I think the best one out there is Pimsleur's Western Armenian. Pimsleur has a an Eastern Armenian version as well. I actually wrote the lone user review, so I won't repeat it here.
Another option, not as good, is the VocabuLearn series. I haven't listened to Level 2. The lone review of this product is also mine. I should note that I wrote it before the Pimsleur was available. If you have to pick one, go with Pimsleur; it is much better. I think the VocabuLearn is only 3 stars in comparison. I may see if I can go back and edit it.
Books
One of my favorite resources, Armenian Dictionary in Transliteration by Armenian language guru and fellow Penn grad Thomas Samuelian, is no longer in print. I am not sure that it is worth the $100 for a used copy through amazon.com, but you may be able to find it through a church bookstore or other Armenian resource. I found mine through Hye Family, although it looks like they are no longer selling books. For people who cannot read the Armenian alphabet, this is an invaluable resource. I cannot recommend it highly enough. I wrote one of the reviews on the amazon.com page; mine doesn't stand alone, this time!
Another great resource is Modern Western Armenian for the English Speaking World by Dora Sakayan. This is worth every penny of the $60-$70 you will pay for it. There is enough transliteration to enable you to use it if you don't know the alphabet, but it will help you learn the alphabet and get better at reading. You can't buy it new from amazon.com anymore, but you can buy it from St. Vartan's bookstore (the official bookstore of St. Vartan's Cathedral in NYC). I bought mine from Abril bookstore in Glendale, CA, along with a set of children's flashcards to learn the alphabet, which help a little, but really aren't as helpful as just doing a lot of transliteration.
Sometimes your local Armenian church will offer adult Armenian classes; I advice checking with them, if you have one.
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
Good News!
This past Sunday was the Merelotz Badarak; meaning that after Badarak, Hokehankist (literally "spirit rest") is meant to remember all of our dead. Merelotz means either "dead" or "death"- I am not totally sure, but definitely one of those.
The priest explained that the Sundays after big feast days (namely, Christmas and Easter), we always have a Merelotz Badarak. This is because Christ being born and rising from the dead is not only good news for the living, but good news for those who are "asleep." The priest explained that we don't think they are dead, just "asleep" until the second coming, or judgment day, or whatever it is that is supposed to wake them up from death. Merelotz Badarak seems especially important to me after Easter, because the priests don't say Hokehankist at all during all of Lent, nor for Easter. In general, big feast days = no Hokehankist. I suppose that this recognizes that there is a time for everything, and while we never forget our dead, some days should not be marred by mourning. Seems sensible to me.
The sermon this week was an interesting one. It was all about Jesus as the source of all good things, as exemplified by the first miracle that Jesus carried out. For those of you who aren't familiar with the New Testament (indeed, my own knowledge is somewhat sketchy, as I am able to name 2 of Jesus's miracles, but not the third one), the first miracle was Jesus turning water into wine at the wedding at Cana.
The priest made a really good point. Jesus's first miracle was to promote the individual enjoyment of people, to let them have a good time. This runs contrary to some of the doctrines of more puritanical churches who forbid alcohol, dancing, etc. It shows that God is the source of all good things and shows that He wants us to enjoy ourselves and celebrate. Sounds good to me!
The priest explained that the Sundays after big feast days (namely, Christmas and Easter), we always have a Merelotz Badarak. This is because Christ being born and rising from the dead is not only good news for the living, but good news for those who are "asleep." The priest explained that we don't think they are dead, just "asleep" until the second coming, or judgment day, or whatever it is that is supposed to wake them up from death. Merelotz Badarak seems especially important to me after Easter, because the priests don't say Hokehankist at all during all of Lent, nor for Easter. In general, big feast days = no Hokehankist. I suppose that this recognizes that there is a time for everything, and while we never forget our dead, some days should not be marred by mourning. Seems sensible to me.
The sermon this week was an interesting one. It was all about Jesus as the source of all good things, as exemplified by the first miracle that Jesus carried out. For those of you who aren't familiar with the New Testament (indeed, my own knowledge is somewhat sketchy, as I am able to name 2 of Jesus's miracles, but not the third one), the first miracle was Jesus turning water into wine at the wedding at Cana.
The priest made a really good point. Jesus's first miracle was to promote the individual enjoyment of people, to let them have a good time. This runs contrary to some of the doctrines of more puritanical churches who forbid alcohol, dancing, etc. It shows that God is the source of all good things and shows that He wants us to enjoy ourselves and celebrate. Sounds good to me!
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
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.
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.
Saturday, January 06, 2007
Merry Christmas!
Today is Christmas in the Armenian Church. The New York Times had a nice article today explaining why we do things the way we do. Basically, we were the only church not threatened by pagans, so we kept the celebration of Christ's birth and baptism together, while all other churches split them up.
In the words of my priest, when people ask, "Why do you celebrate Christmas on January 6th?" the correct answer is "Why DON'T you?" :) That is a little antagonistic, I admit, and I wouldn't really recommend it.
New York Times Article on Armenian Christmas
One of the interesting things that this article points out is the benefit of having the celebration of Christmas be on a different day than Dec. 25th. Having Christmas on Jan. 6th means that most of the commercial, end-of-year retail push, etc. is over, and you can truly concentrate on Christ's birth.
What is kind of ironic about this POV is that really, Christmas isn't a big deal in the Armenian Church. I mean, it's a feast day, we're happy, we celebrate, we bless water, but Christmas is NOTHING compared to Easter, at least from a religious standpoint.
Christmas is a big deal in the US, and most of the Western World, though, so the Armenians I know still make a big deal out of it, even though traditionally, back in the "old country," it wasn't. However, these Armenians ALSO make a big deal about Easter, much bigger than most people in the US. Let's face it- Lent is all about self-denial, which will never be popular with companies, and Easter isn't as big of a deal when it doesn't come at the end of this period of self-sacrifice. If you make an effort to observe Lent, however you do it, whether it's going vegan the whole time like you are "supposed" to, or going vegan two days a week (I did this last year), or giving up something in particular like many Catholics do, you are going to be relieved when Easter rolls around!
I couldn't get to service today, but I am going to go tomorrow. We are still out of town- we have been out of town for almost 3 weeks now, so I haven't been able to go to church. There is one that is about an hour away by public transportation, and since they will be blessing the water, I am going to go. It will be interesting trying a new church for the first time in a year.
In the words of my priest, when people ask, "Why do you celebrate Christmas on January 6th?" the correct answer is "Why DON'T you?" :) That is a little antagonistic, I admit, and I wouldn't really recommend it.
New York Times Article on Armenian Christmas
One of the interesting things that this article points out is the benefit of having the celebration of Christmas be on a different day than Dec. 25th. Having Christmas on Jan. 6th means that most of the commercial, end-of-year retail push, etc. is over, and you can truly concentrate on Christ's birth.
What is kind of ironic about this POV is that really, Christmas isn't a big deal in the Armenian Church. I mean, it's a feast day, we're happy, we celebrate, we bless water, but Christmas is NOTHING compared to Easter, at least from a religious standpoint.
Christmas is a big deal in the US, and most of the Western World, though, so the Armenians I know still make a big deal out of it, even though traditionally, back in the "old country," it wasn't. However, these Armenians ALSO make a big deal about Easter, much bigger than most people in the US. Let's face it- Lent is all about self-denial, which will never be popular with companies, and Easter isn't as big of a deal when it doesn't come at the end of this period of self-sacrifice. If you make an effort to observe Lent, however you do it, whether it's going vegan the whole time like you are "supposed" to, or going vegan two days a week (I did this last year), or giving up something in particular like many Catholics do, you are going to be relieved when Easter rolls around!
I couldn't get to service today, but I am going to go tomorrow. We are still out of town- we have been out of town for almost 3 weeks now, so I haven't been able to go to church. There is one that is about an hour away by public transportation, and since they will be blessing the water, I am going to go. It will be interesting trying a new church for the first time in a year.
Monday, November 13, 2006
Armenian Funerals
I went to my second Armenian funeral last week, for the 21 year old deacon who died. The first Armenian funeral I attended was for my grandfather, and it was an Armenian priest that my family had flown into town to do the service. (Hayr Simeon is a great guy, by the way, and I love his philosophy on getting people involved with the church. If you live in the Providence, RI area, you should definitely check out his church.)
The viewing was on Wednesday night, and the funeral was on Thursday. Wednesday night wasn't really a "viewing," though, as the casket was closed, and it was mostly people talking about this young man (some in Armenian, and some in English), like would happen at a regular funeral. Even the Archbishop was there. The church was PACKED both Wednesday night and Thursday morning. I sang with the choir on Thursday- We sang just Kahanayk and Ee Verin Yeroosaghem.
Ee Verin Yeroosaghem is probably one of my favorite hymns in the Armenian Church. The translation is:
In the Heavenly Jerusalem, in the abode of angels, where Enoch and Elijah live dove-like in old age, being worthily resplendent in the Garden of Eden; O merciful Lord, have mercy upon the souls of our departed brethren.
The imagery is so beautiful- angels, doves, resplendent gardens... it's a reminder of beauty in an otherwise pretty gloomy service.
There is a big difference between funerals for old people (like my grandfather) and young people (like this 21 year old deacon). You expect old people to die; that is what happens when you are old. You don't expect young people to die; you expect them to graduate from college, travel, buy first houses, get married, have babies, get promoted, etc. Funerals for young people are shocking to the system. Even if it's not your first funeral for a young person, it's still pretty horrifying. Just seeing all his young friends, only about 5-7 years younger than I am, going through this was just really upsetting. There was a huge HUGE presence of the Homenetmen; they had the flags of all the local chapters, plus another one from elsewhere in the state, on display by the coffin, all the scouts were there in their uniforms, and they had draped a Homenetmen flag on his coffin.
Almost all the service was in Armenian again, except for one of the priests (the former priest of this church), who graciously translated his speech into English. This was much appreciated by me (and I am sure by the deceased non-Armenian friends), not only b/c it meant that I would understand what was going on, but because I didn't really know this young man, so it was nice to hear comments from people who did know him.
I was fine until the end, when his pallbearing young friends went to get the coffin. No one should have to be a pallbearer for their friend at that young of an age. It is just not fair. I started crying, and his mother lost it. The family was practically restraining her from throwing herself on the coffin. She was screaming and crying. Naturally. At first I had kind of a negative reaction to this, but then I thought, "If there is ever at time when screaming and bawling is warranted, it's now. Why should she try to hold everything in? Let her scream and cry." I told my husband this, and he said that he was reminded of the show Six Feet Under- whenever anyone at a funeral starts to lose it, David will hurry them off to the private room off to the side so they don't make anyone uncomfortable, and Nate gets mad, because it is all so fake to stifle grief like that. Death is sad. Let people be sad.
There was a lot of emphasis in the services on "he is in a better place now." This always annoys me, because this is supposed to make me feel BETTER? I am selfish- I want (whoever) here with me NOW. I told my husband that if I die early, my funeral is not to be entirely in Armenian, and that none of this "better place" crap.
The viewing was on Wednesday night, and the funeral was on Thursday. Wednesday night wasn't really a "viewing," though, as the casket was closed, and it was mostly people talking about this young man (some in Armenian, and some in English), like would happen at a regular funeral. Even the Archbishop was there. The church was PACKED both Wednesday night and Thursday morning. I sang with the choir on Thursday- We sang just Kahanayk and Ee Verin Yeroosaghem.
Ee Verin Yeroosaghem is probably one of my favorite hymns in the Armenian Church. The translation is:
In the Heavenly Jerusalem, in the abode of angels, where Enoch and Elijah live dove-like in old age, being worthily resplendent in the Garden of Eden; O merciful Lord, have mercy upon the souls of our departed brethren.
The imagery is so beautiful- angels, doves, resplendent gardens... it's a reminder of beauty in an otherwise pretty gloomy service.
There is a big difference between funerals for old people (like my grandfather) and young people (like this 21 year old deacon). You expect old people to die; that is what happens when you are old. You don't expect young people to die; you expect them to graduate from college, travel, buy first houses, get married, have babies, get promoted, etc. Funerals for young people are shocking to the system. Even if it's not your first funeral for a young person, it's still pretty horrifying. Just seeing all his young friends, only about 5-7 years younger than I am, going through this was just really upsetting. There was a huge HUGE presence of the Homenetmen; they had the flags of all the local chapters, plus another one from elsewhere in the state, on display by the coffin, all the scouts were there in their uniforms, and they had draped a Homenetmen flag on his coffin.
Almost all the service was in Armenian again, except for one of the priests (the former priest of this church), who graciously translated his speech into English. This was much appreciated by me (and I am sure by the deceased non-Armenian friends), not only b/c it meant that I would understand what was going on, but because I didn't really know this young man, so it was nice to hear comments from people who did know him.
I was fine until the end, when his pallbearing young friends went to get the coffin. No one should have to be a pallbearer for their friend at that young of an age. It is just not fair. I started crying, and his mother lost it. The family was practically restraining her from throwing herself on the coffin. She was screaming and crying. Naturally. At first I had kind of a negative reaction to this, but then I thought, "If there is ever at time when screaming and bawling is warranted, it's now. Why should she try to hold everything in? Let her scream and cry." I told my husband this, and he said that he was reminded of the show Six Feet Under- whenever anyone at a funeral starts to lose it, David will hurry them off to the private room off to the side so they don't make anyone uncomfortable, and Nate gets mad, because it is all so fake to stifle grief like that. Death is sad. Let people be sad.
There was a lot of emphasis in the services on "he is in a better place now." This always annoys me, because this is supposed to make me feel BETTER? I am selfish- I want (whoever) here with me NOW. I told my husband that if I die early, my funeral is not to be entirely in Armenian, and that none of this "better place" crap.
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Women in the Church
Like other Orthodox churches and the Roman Catholic church, the Armenian Apostolic church does not allow women to become priests. Women/girls are also technically not allowed up on the altar, BUT one of the churches I go to has a little girl who occasionally is up there helping, and has girls do the readings sometimes, etc. I don't see any adolescent girls or grown women up there, but considering there are very few youths/young adults of either gender who participate in church, even just by going, so it may not be an age thing.
I surprise myself, but the fact that women are not allowed to be priests does not bother me (although I sometimes think it should...). I think this is due to two things: 1) the nature of the duties of the priesthood and 2) the nature of church life.
First, the nature of the priesthood. As far as I can tell, priests in the Armenian church perform many of the same functions of their counterparts in the Roman Catholic and Protestant churches, except for one. Sermons. There are still sermons in the Armenian church, but they are significantly shorter and less important than they are in, say, my parents' Southern Baptist church. That is, the Armenian church is NOT about preaching. Some priests are naturally good at giving sermons, and some are not, but you don't have to be especially good at them to succeed as a priest. This means that if someone is called to spread the word of God, or to teach others, etc., there are other venues to do that, probably BETTER venues for doing that, than becoming a priest. The choir serves an incredibly important function in the service- I would argue that they are just as important to the service as the altar boys, so I don't exactly feel that I am being excluded from participating actively in the service the way I might in a Roman Catholic or Protestant church where the hymns are just nice little additions to the service.
There is also complete acknowledgement of the role that women play in generally sustaining the church. Well, this is the case at the two churches that I attend regularly, anyway. Maybe it isn't in other churches. Everyone knows that they might not be up on the altar, but really, there would be no churches without them. The women are the ones who run the church office, teach Sunday School and Armenian School, and coordinate fundraisers, among other things. At a recent Armenian festival at another local church that I don't attend, my husband and I noticed the women running around cooking and serving food (the main way that the festival raised money was by selling dinner!), while the men stood around in black, wearing black vests with SECURITY on the back in big white letters, smoking cigars or drinking. Not kidding. My husband wondered if the festival really needed that much security. I said that probably it was the only way the women could get their husbands and grown sons to help out. "Oh, you can work security!" In both the churches I attend, the Parish Councils have women, so they contribute to running the church as well. The Armenian Church even has a special title for the Der Hayr's wife- Yeretzgin. Jews also have a similar title for a Rabbi's wife- Rebbetzin. Protestant churches don't have this- there is no real recognition of the support and sacrifices that the wife of a minister (because although I know some female Protestant ministers, I don't really see their husbands doing so much of the day-to-day support, coordination, mentoring level that the wives of male ministers often do) makes. I like that the Armenian Church says, "hey, the wife of a priest is a real position of responsibility too!"
While I do have issues with the very old-world view of women in general (particularly when it comes to how sons are treasured versus daughters), I think that church life, and maybe only in church life, are the contributions of women, even though they are separate and not always equal (often they are greater), usually recognized and appreciated for what they are. Plus, since churches are usually on the small side, talent doesn't get lost in the herd, whether it is male or female. Maybe this is why I think that the women are appreciated? They can't afford to piss them off.
This is not to say that I don't think that girls shouldn't be on the altar- I do! I am glad that there are a few churches who break/bend this rule to a certain extent. Or that I don't care that the men are happy to sit around and smoke and drink and wear SECURITY vests rather than pitching in with the real grunt work. I am indifferent about women becoming priests, I think because there are so many opportunities to express a call for anything, and you can still go to St. Nersess seminary and take classes and get a degree if you are a woman (I know they have a layperson's track and a priest track- I am not sure if women can do the priest track, even though they obviously won't become priests).
One positive thing about the Armenian Church is that often they are not big churches, which means that any one individual person has a greater opportunity to make a concrete difference in the environment of a church. Each person can be more welcoming, can reach out to new people/strangers. You can work to organize activities to get people involved. You may not be able to change the entire culture and structure of the church, but you can make the church your own.
It is late. I might go back and edit this post later, for fear that it is incoherent, but I wanted to get it up there. I've been promising it for a while.
I surprise myself, but the fact that women are not allowed to be priests does not bother me (although I sometimes think it should...). I think this is due to two things: 1) the nature of the duties of the priesthood and 2) the nature of church life.
First, the nature of the priesthood. As far as I can tell, priests in the Armenian church perform many of the same functions of their counterparts in the Roman Catholic and Protestant churches, except for one. Sermons. There are still sermons in the Armenian church, but they are significantly shorter and less important than they are in, say, my parents' Southern Baptist church. That is, the Armenian church is NOT about preaching. Some priests are naturally good at giving sermons, and some are not, but you don't have to be especially good at them to succeed as a priest. This means that if someone is called to spread the word of God, or to teach others, etc., there are other venues to do that, probably BETTER venues for doing that, than becoming a priest. The choir serves an incredibly important function in the service- I would argue that they are just as important to the service as the altar boys, so I don't exactly feel that I am being excluded from participating actively in the service the way I might in a Roman Catholic or Protestant church where the hymns are just nice little additions to the service.
There is also complete acknowledgement of the role that women play in generally sustaining the church. Well, this is the case at the two churches that I attend regularly, anyway. Maybe it isn't in other churches. Everyone knows that they might not be up on the altar, but really, there would be no churches without them. The women are the ones who run the church office, teach Sunday School and Armenian School, and coordinate fundraisers, among other things. At a recent Armenian festival at another local church that I don't attend, my husband and I noticed the women running around cooking and serving food (the main way that the festival raised money was by selling dinner!), while the men stood around in black, wearing black vests with SECURITY on the back in big white letters, smoking cigars or drinking. Not kidding. My husband wondered if the festival really needed that much security. I said that probably it was the only way the women could get their husbands and grown sons to help out. "Oh, you can work security!" In both the churches I attend, the Parish Councils have women, so they contribute to running the church as well. The Armenian Church even has a special title for the Der Hayr's wife- Yeretzgin. Jews also have a similar title for a Rabbi's wife- Rebbetzin. Protestant churches don't have this- there is no real recognition of the support and sacrifices that the wife of a minister (because although I know some female Protestant ministers, I don't really see their husbands doing so much of the day-to-day support, coordination, mentoring level that the wives of male ministers often do) makes. I like that the Armenian Church says, "hey, the wife of a priest is a real position of responsibility too!"
While I do have issues with the very old-world view of women in general (particularly when it comes to how sons are treasured versus daughters), I think that church life, and maybe only in church life, are the contributions of women, even though they are separate and not always equal (often they are greater), usually recognized and appreciated for what they are. Plus, since churches are usually on the small side, talent doesn't get lost in the herd, whether it is male or female. Maybe this is why I think that the women are appreciated? They can't afford to piss them off.
This is not to say that I don't think that girls shouldn't be on the altar- I do! I am glad that there are a few churches who break/bend this rule to a certain extent. Or that I don't care that the men are happy to sit around and smoke and drink and wear SECURITY vests rather than pitching in with the real grunt work. I am indifferent about women becoming priests, I think because there are so many opportunities to express a call for anything, and you can still go to St. Nersess seminary and take classes and get a degree if you are a woman (I know they have a layperson's track and a priest track- I am not sure if women can do the priest track, even though they obviously won't become priests).
One positive thing about the Armenian Church is that often they are not big churches, which means that any one individual person has a greater opportunity to make a concrete difference in the environment of a church. Each person can be more welcoming, can reach out to new people/strangers. You can work to organize activities to get people involved. You may not be able to change the entire culture and structure of the church, but you can make the church your own.
It is late. I might go back and edit this post later, for fear that it is incoherent, but I wanted to get it up there. I've been promising it for a while.
Bullet Point Sermons
The sermons at my church crack me up. As I've mentioned before, sermons are not really the main focus in the Armenian Church, so often they are an afterthought.
The priest at the church that I usually attend (I should come up with nicknames for the two churches- maybe later) actually is very good at preaching in Armenian. I don't understand Armenian, but you can tell. Most Sundays, he will read an English translation of his sermon either before, or intersperse the translation throughout the Armenian sermon. He just isn't as comfortable with English.
What is always so funny to me is that the English sermon can always be summed up in one or two bullet points. I make a point to come home and tell my husband what the bullet point for the week is. They are usually very good messages, although unlike at most Protestant churches that I have been to, unconnected to whatever the Bible reading of the day is. I am not sure if the Armenian sermons can be summed up quite so nicely.
Recent bullet points:
And my personal favorite of all time:
The priest at the church that I usually attend (I should come up with nicknames for the two churches- maybe later) actually is very good at preaching in Armenian. I don't understand Armenian, but you can tell. Most Sundays, he will read an English translation of his sermon either before, or intersperse the translation throughout the Armenian sermon. He just isn't as comfortable with English.
What is always so funny to me is that the English sermon can always be summed up in one or two bullet points. I make a point to come home and tell my husband what the bullet point for the week is. They are usually very good messages, although unlike at most Protestant churches that I have been to, unconnected to whatever the Bible reading of the day is. I am not sure if the Armenian sermons can be summed up quite so nicely.
Recent bullet points:
- God Gave You Brains: Use Them (Or Lose Them).
- Nobody Is Perfect, followed a few weeks later by
- Be Above Average
And my personal favorite of all time:
- God Doesn't Like Losers
Sliding Doors
Do you have anyone in your life that looms large, even in their absence? This is my grandmother, a woman whom I never met. My mother was very close to her; she considered her mother her best friend, and she was just torn apart when her mom died of cancer. It was one of those situations when the cancer was diagnosed very late, and she was gone within a couple of months.
From all reports, everyone loved my grandmother, and she was the glue that held the family together, and to a certain extent, the glue that held my mother together. When she died, the family came apart; my mother came apart. Both held themselves together reasonably well, but like the bowl you drop and try to repair, only to find that you are missing a small yet crucial piece that you just can't find anywhere, neither were ever quite whole again.
My mother came apart right away, but the family took much longer. My mom has said that she never had anything bad happen to her before her mother died, and it was a serious shock to the system. She said that she slept with the hallway light on for two years. I was born a few years after my grandmother died, and my sister within two years after my birth, and this was also very traumatizing for my mother; although the birth of children was very joyous for her, she was very upset and angry because she had always imagined her mother there helping her, and instead, she was all alone. Although she had a sister, a sister-in-law, and an aunt who were all nearby and alive when my sister and I were little, for several reasons, these were not trusted sources of support. My mother eventually developed agoraphobia. I didn't realize this at the time; all I knew was that every time we were supposed to go do something fun (go shopping, etc.), mom got sick, and we couldn't go after all. Yet she was never incapacitated when we had to do boring, decidedly un-fun things, like cleaning. My mother eventually got treatment for this when I was about 12, and it completely changed everyone's lives.
Sometimes, I imagine what my life would be like if my grandmother had not died at the untimely age of 52. I imagine my life just like the movie Sliding Doors, where you see how Gwyneth Paltrow's character's life unfolds when she misses the subway train, and also how it would unfold if she made the train. What if my grandmother was still alive today? It would be theoretically possible, if not for the non-Hodgkin's lymphoma. She would be 84 today. Not young, but still young enough to possibly be around. My grandfather (her widower) only died 2 years ago, at the age of 99.
Here are the main things that I think would have been different:
I don't think that all these changes would have been for the better (some would have been for sure), but like all imaginary lives, we will never know for sure what would happen.
From all reports, everyone loved my grandmother, and she was the glue that held the family together, and to a certain extent, the glue that held my mother together. When she died, the family came apart; my mother came apart. Both held themselves together reasonably well, but like the bowl you drop and try to repair, only to find that you are missing a small yet crucial piece that you just can't find anywhere, neither were ever quite whole again.
My mother came apart right away, but the family took much longer. My mom has said that she never had anything bad happen to her before her mother died, and it was a serious shock to the system. She said that she slept with the hallway light on for two years. I was born a few years after my grandmother died, and my sister within two years after my birth, and this was also very traumatizing for my mother; although the birth of children was very joyous for her, she was very upset and angry because she had always imagined her mother there helping her, and instead, she was all alone. Although she had a sister, a sister-in-law, and an aunt who were all nearby and alive when my sister and I were little, for several reasons, these were not trusted sources of support. My mother eventually developed agoraphobia. I didn't realize this at the time; all I knew was that every time we were supposed to go do something fun (go shopping, etc.), mom got sick, and we couldn't go after all. Yet she was never incapacitated when we had to do boring, decidedly un-fun things, like cleaning. My mother eventually got treatment for this when I was about 12, and it completely changed everyone's lives.
Sometimes, I imagine what my life would be like if my grandmother had not died at the untimely age of 52. I imagine my life just like the movie Sliding Doors, where you see how Gwyneth Paltrow's character's life unfolds when she misses the subway train, and also how it would unfold if she made the train. What if my grandmother was still alive today? It would be theoretically possible, if not for the non-Hodgkin's lymphoma. She would be 84 today. Not young, but still young enough to possibly be around. My grandfather (her widower) only died 2 years ago, at the age of 99.
Here are the main things that I think would have been different:
- My mother would have been more relaxed. Although my dad helped out a lot at home, and did his best to give my mother breaks when he could (especially on weekends), having her mom around to help would would have really given my mom some time for herself that was hard to get.
- My parents might have had a stronger marriage. My mom refused to leave us with a babysitter, and she didn't depend on her other family for help. For sure, my grandmother would have pitched in and taken care of us so my mom and dad could have had some alone adult time together.
- My mom probably would not have been agoraphobic. Although our childhoods were pretty good, anxiety is no fun for anyone. The plus side of the agoraphobia is that I have a lot of good memories of doing things with my dad, who pitched in and picked up the slack when it came to grocery shopping and errands, and I remember doing a lot of these things with him. So maybe the flip side of the "my mom wouldn't have been agoraphobic" would have been a less-close day-to-day relationship with my dad when I was growing up. Maybe not, though.
- For sure, my sister and I would have spoken Armenian. Or at least understood it.
- I think, that had my grandmother been alive, I may have made the same choice that many of the young people in my church have made when it came to college. I bet I would have gone to school much closer to home. This isn't for sure, but I could see it happening for a variety of reasons, because some of the reasons that I went away to school might not have been there, and other reasons might have been around to hold me closer to home. Probably not in my hometown, but maybe I would have gone to school in one of the schools in my region, much like my best friend, who went to a decent private university six hours from home. This is the biggest change in my imaginary Sliding Doors life, and perhaps the most intellectually interesting, because staying closer to home, rather than going far away like I did, would probably have had much different consequences in what I studied, where I lived, whom I ended up marrying, etc.
I don't think that all these changes would have been for the better (some would have been for sure), but like all imaginary lives, we will never know for sure what would happen.
Mourning
One of our 21-year-old altar boys died yesterday in a freak motorcycle accident (really, it was a freak accident). The people at church are devestated. I didn't know this young man or his family personally, although, since the church isn't that big, we all know each other by sight or interact together, etc.
He was not only a deacon up on the altar, but he was also a scout leader for Homenetmen (co-ed Armenian Boy Scouts- they really are Boy Scouts; they are affiliated in some way with BSA, although they are co-ed, and not really a Boy Scout troup), so all the kids in scouts have had their worlds torn apart as well.
We had a prayer service tonight; the funeral will be later on in the week, but they haven't figured out whether it will be Thursday or Friday. The church was packed with people- many young people in high school and college were there, and everyone was just sobbing. It really took me back, in a bad way. I was in their positions five years ago, and I just wish I could take away their pain. They are all in for a long, painful road.
I am trying to come up with ways to help; the Homenetmen families are doing food, so even though I am not a Homenetmen family, I am going to get on board with that. I think the family also doesn't have a ton of money, so I am going to ask at the church if they are starting a fund/collection/etc. for the family, since funerals are expensive.
It is just so sad; I especially feel for the friends and the kids that he was close to. They are too young to have to deal with this.
I wish that I could share the message at the prayer service tonight, but it was all in Armenian, so I'm no help there. The priest was sad, though- he choked up at one point. You could hear the whole congregation sobbing quietly at that point. I am going to have to get to church early on Sunday; the parking lot was full tonight, and I think it will be the same on Sunday for Hokehankist for him.
He was not only a deacon up on the altar, but he was also a scout leader for Homenetmen (co-ed Armenian Boy Scouts- they really are Boy Scouts; they are affiliated in some way with BSA, although they are co-ed, and not really a Boy Scout troup), so all the kids in scouts have had their worlds torn apart as well.
We had a prayer service tonight; the funeral will be later on in the week, but they haven't figured out whether it will be Thursday or Friday. The church was packed with people- many young people in high school and college were there, and everyone was just sobbing. It really took me back, in a bad way. I was in their positions five years ago, and I just wish I could take away their pain. They are all in for a long, painful road.
I am trying to come up with ways to help; the Homenetmen families are doing food, so even though I am not a Homenetmen family, I am going to get on board with that. I think the family also doesn't have a ton of money, so I am going to ask at the church if they are starting a fund/collection/etc. for the family, since funerals are expensive.
It is just so sad; I especially feel for the friends and the kids that he was close to. They are too young to have to deal with this.
I wish that I could share the message at the prayer service tonight, but it was all in Armenian, so I'm no help there. The priest was sad, though- he choked up at one point. You could hear the whole congregation sobbing quietly at that point. I am going to have to get to church early on Sunday; the parking lot was full tonight, and I think it will be the same on Sunday for Hokehankist for him.
Monday, October 23, 2006
Armenian Opera
Last night, there was an "exciting Armenian concert" (as the fliers put it) featuring two classically trained Armenian opera singers from New York City. I wouldn't have gone, but the youth choir was asked to sing with the singers when they performed Yerevan Erepouni. In traditional Armenian style, it was all very last minute, as I just go the phone call late Saturday afternoon.
It was another interesting experience with Armenian diaspora culture. One of the singers was better than the other (in my opinion), and I can't say that I loved every song, but it was nice.
It was another interesting experience with Armenian diaspora culture. One of the singers was better than the other (in my opinion), and I can't say that I loved every song, but it was nice.
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.
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.
Friday, October 20, 2006
Forthcoming
I have been working on a post on women in the church for a while. I hope I will finish it sometime this week.
In the meantime, I have been working on making a MIDI file of Yerevan Erepooni that I can use for choir rehearsal. When I do, maybe I will post it.
In the meantime, I have been working on making a MIDI file of Yerevan Erepooni that I can use for choir rehearsal. When I do, maybe I will post it.
Sunday, October 15, 2006
Solo
Today, I sang my first solo in 19 years- my first solo in front of other people, that is, since 99% of my solos are in the car or shower, and the other .8% are at karaoke. Most of the church (read: the elderly) were at a church trip to a local resort/gambling town, so there were 3 women singing today. None of the regular soloists were there, so there was an opening! I think I did okay.
I sang the first two lines of Miayn Soorp, which is just "miayn soorp, miayn der" (loosely translated: "You are the only holy one, the only God").
I sang the first two lines of Miayn Soorp, which is just "miayn soorp, miayn der" (loosely translated: "You are the only holy one, the only God").
Sunday, October 08, 2006
Archbishop Visit
Today, we had not one but TWO Archbishops conducting service today. One was our regular Archbishop of our own diocese, and another Archbishop from Etchmiadzin, who is the brother of one of our church members.
Last year, the "Archbishop Sunday" (as I call it in my head) was the second Sunday that I attended this church. Last year, they ordained several altar boys and deacons, but not today.
Our Archbishop commended our church for having such a high number of kids and youth involved in the church. He said that it's not like this at every church, and I have seen this first hand! It is certainly not like this at the other church that I go to. There are plenty of kids in Sunday School, but everyone on the altar is a grown man. This is something that I have been talking about with some of the other youngish (21+) people who go to this church- there are maybe five of us? Two of us are in the choir, and two are on the altar, and one is in charge of Sunday School. We may set up some social activities in order to encourage people to get/stay involved, maybe even have a "Liturgy 101" class so people feel comfortable and understand what is going on.
Last year, the "Archbishop Sunday" (as I call it in my head) was the second Sunday that I attended this church. Last year, they ordained several altar boys and deacons, but not today.
Our Archbishop commended our church for having such a high number of kids and youth involved in the church. He said that it's not like this at every church, and I have seen this first hand! It is certainly not like this at the other church that I go to. There are plenty of kids in Sunday School, but everyone on the altar is a grown man. This is something that I have been talking about with some of the other youngish (21+) people who go to this church- there are maybe five of us? Two of us are in the choir, and two are on the altar, and one is in charge of Sunday School. We may set up some social activities in order to encourage people to get/stay involved, maybe even have a "Liturgy 101" class so people feel comfortable and understand what is going on.
The Power of the Diaspora
Yesterday I realized how strong the Armenian Diaspora really is. I was talking to my mother, and I was telling her what songs we were learning in Junior Choir, and she knew them ALL (I don't think she knew Mer Hayrenik, though. She knew another song called "Anoush Hayrenik."). I was really surprised. My mother grew up in Damascus, but I don't think anyone from my church is from Damascus. Many of them are from Baghdad (both recent immigrants as well as people who have been in the US for 30+ years), or Iran, or other places. I just know that no one has said, "Hey, I (or my mom or dad etc.) am from Damascus!" And they all know the same songs. Not just that, but their KIDS, who were born in the US, ALSO know the same songs. The Armenian Church is a very important part of the strength of the diaspora. I think this is why I have always been drawn to it.
I know that there is a big difference between the Armenians who come from Turkey and the Middle East (often via Turkey anyway), and those who come from Armenia proper (especially if they lived there during the Soviet era), but I think my church is quite good at bridging the distance between the two, since we do have religion in common, even if the language, customs, and language are different.
I know that there is a big difference between the Armenians who come from Turkey and the Middle East (often via Turkey anyway), and those who come from Armenia proper (especially if they lived there during the Soviet era), but I think my church is quite good at bridging the distance between the two, since we do have religion in common, even if the language, customs, and language are different.
Sunday, October 01, 2006
Junior Choir
So, the other part of Armenian Church, besides the Church part, is being Armenian. Sometimes, when doing things in the Armenian Church, it is less about Church and more about Armenian. I am a member of the "junior choir" now - pretty laughable considering that I am close to being 10 years older than most of the members, who are all high school students- and I am learning songs that I have never heard before, but apparently are die-hard Armenian mainstays. One is the Armenian national anthem- no surprise that I don't know this, since my mom immigrated to the US from the diaspora, not Armenia itself, and she came over way before the breakup up of the Soviet Union. How would she know the Armenian national anthem? Did Armenia even have a national anthem back in 1969? (maybe... I have no idea). We are also learning (well, I am learning, since everyone else seems to know it already) Yerevan Erepouni. Thank goodness I read music, is all I have to say! The choir director kept asking, "Do you know this song?" I didn't know ANY of them. I just said that I could read music, and I could read English, and beyond that, nothing. However, he really needs altos. Altos are prized commodities in choirs, because everyone wants to sing soprano because it's easier, and you get more glory. I wouldn't say that I'm the best alto ever, but I'm decent, and can contribute a lot. I think this is why the director has let in an almost-28-year-old into a "junior choir" full of mostly high school students. My 26 year old friend is also a member, so at least I'm not the only one.
Also, they ALL speak AND read Armenian! I am seriously the only one who can't do either. Oy. I guess I'll start picking up more musical terms. I do know "Meg! Yergu! Yerek!" so at least I know when to start singing. I am literally amazed that all these kids know Armenian. The choir director's wife explained to me that all these kids have grandparents who speak it to them, and that's why they know it. Makes sense. I didn't have a grandparent to speak it to me.
Also, they ALL speak AND read Armenian! I am seriously the only one who can't do either. Oy. I guess I'll start picking up more musical terms. I do know "Meg! Yergu! Yerek!" so at least I know when to start singing. I am literally amazed that all these kids know Armenian. The choir director's wife explained to me that all these kids have grandparents who speak it to them, and that's why they know it. Makes sense. I didn't have a grandparent to speak it to me.
Feast of the Holy Cross of Varak
Today, as I discovered in church, is the Feast of the Holy Cross of Varak. This celebrates the appearance of a relic of the Holy Cross (Sourp Khatch- the same one that we celebrated 2 weeks ago) on an altar in a monestary on Mt. Varak. Mt. Varak is in "historic Armenia," which means that it is not in the actual country of Armenia, but rather in modern-day Turkey.
We had a visiting priest today. Our regular priest was out of town officiating a family wedding. I wish I was able to have an Armenian wedding! The cost would have been prohibitive- we would have had to fly a priest in, put him up somewhere, find a church, pay rental fees, etc. So we just got married at the Baptist church my parents go to for $250. We could have gotten married out here, but this presented a whole other set of money issues. Weddings are MUCH more expensive out here, everyone would have had to fly out here, etc. It was more practical to get married in my hometown. God was still at my wedding, even though it was Protestant and in English.
It would have been a fight on some other levels with my odar husband, because it would have meant that he couldn't have his Jewish best friend as our best man. So... probably for the best that it didn't work out.
I actually missed our regular priest- the visiting priest's English wasn't as good, and he didn't really give a sermon at all, only a brief explanation of what we were celebrating, but Badarak today wasn't really any different than Badarak on other days.
Today was also the first day of Sunday School for the kids. They go to Sunday School during the service. My church is very open and friendly to kids- Der Hayr is a married priest, and has 2 teenage kids, so he is all about young people. This church apparently has a tradition of being welcoming to kids, young people, and newcomers, dating back to the former parish priest, who was born in the US, raised in Glendale, and just really loves kids and young people and is really passionate about getting people involved in the Armenian Church.
I am passionate about it too, but need to find the energy and strength to translate that passion into concrete service. I especially feel called to help make the church more welcoming. By "the church" I mean "the church" in general, not my specific church. I have some ideas for the other church I go to near my university, which isn't as friendly or young as the one near my husband's university.
We had a visiting priest today. Our regular priest was out of town officiating a family wedding. I wish I was able to have an Armenian wedding! The cost would have been prohibitive- we would have had to fly a priest in, put him up somewhere, find a church, pay rental fees, etc. So we just got married at the Baptist church my parents go to for $250. We could have gotten married out here, but this presented a whole other set of money issues. Weddings are MUCH more expensive out here, everyone would have had to fly out here, etc. It was more practical to get married in my hometown. God was still at my wedding, even though it was Protestant and in English.
It would have been a fight on some other levels with my odar husband, because it would have meant that he couldn't have his Jewish best friend as our best man. So... probably for the best that it didn't work out.
I actually missed our regular priest- the visiting priest's English wasn't as good, and he didn't really give a sermon at all, only a brief explanation of what we were celebrating, but Badarak today wasn't really any different than Badarak on other days.
Today was also the first day of Sunday School for the kids. They go to Sunday School during the service. My church is very open and friendly to kids- Der Hayr is a married priest, and has 2 teenage kids, so he is all about young people. This church apparently has a tradition of being welcoming to kids, young people, and newcomers, dating back to the former parish priest, who was born in the US, raised in Glendale, and just really loves kids and young people and is really passionate about getting people involved in the Armenian Church.
I am passionate about it too, but need to find the energy and strength to translate that passion into concrete service. I especially feel called to help make the church more welcoming. By "the church" I mean "the church" in general, not my specific church. I have some ideas for the other church I go to near my university, which isn't as friendly or young as the one near my husband's university.
Monday, September 25, 2006
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.
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.
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