My colleague Mark Movsesian gave this fine address on the occasion of the 45th anniversary of the construction of St. Vartan’s Armenian Cathedral on the east side in Manhattan (I was privileged to attend a service there with Mark a couple of years ago. It is quite lovely). A bit from Mark’s talk, which touches on matters we frequently discuss here at MOJ:
[T]he builders chose to dedicate the cathedral to Vartan. We all know the story of Kach Vartan—“Brave” Vartan. In the fifth century, Armenia was under the control of the Persian Empire. The Persians were Zoroastrians, and they deeply distrusted Christianity. Christianity provided a link to Byzantium, and thus posed a threat to Persian rule. So the Persians attempted to force Armenians to renounce Christianity in favor of the Persians’ own religion.
Some Armenian nobles did convert. But others, led by Vartan Mamigonian, organized a revolt. In 451, at the Battle of Avarayr, Vartan led a vastly outnumbered force against the Persian army. In a letter to the Persian commander before the battle, Vartan and his companions explained that they were willing to resist—and die, for they could hold no illusions about their chances of success—in order to remain Christian:
From this faith no one can shake us, neither angels nor men, neither sword, nor fire, nor water, nor any, nor all, horrid tortures… If you leave to us our belief, we will, here on earth, choose no other master in your place, and in Heaven choose no other God in place of Jesus Christ, for there is no other God. But should you require anything beyond this great testimony, here we are; our bodies are in your hands… Do not, therefore, interrogate us further concerning all this, because our bond of faith is not with men to be deceived like children, but to God, with Whom we are indissolubly bound and from Whom nothing can detach and separate us, neither now, nor later, nor forever, nor forever and ever.
The Persian army crushed the Armenians at Avarayr. Vartan and eight of his generals were killed. The revolt continued, though, and the Persians eventually concluded that their campaign of forced conversion was too costly and gave it up. Our Church has viewed Avarayr as a great moral victory and has honored Vartan and his companions as Christian martyrs and saints to the present day.
It’s easy to understand, then, why the builders dedicated this cathedral to St. Vartan. First, it was a way of linking the Armenian story to the American. St. Vartan’s story fits very well with foundational American ideals. It would be wrong to understand Avarayr completely in today’s categories, of course; one should avoid that sort of anachronism. But the history of Vartan and his companions resonates with the concept of religious liberty that is so fundamental in American culture. Vartan and his companions were, in a sense, standing up for religious freedom—for the right to worship God. When they told the Persians that they would be loyal subjects, but that they would not give up Christ, they were anticipating, by many centuries, the arguments of waves of immigrants to America, many of whom came to this continent precisely so that they could worship God free from state compulsion. Naming the new cathedral for St. Vartan was thus a way to introduce the Armenian story in terms that American culture would find immediately recognizable.
Second, the choice of St. Vartan also links the cathedral with another, older theme, one that predates America by millennia and which, sadly, continues, in parts of the world, even today. The other epithet for Vartan, besides “brave,” is Garmeer: “Garmeer” Vartan– Red Vartan, as in “bloody.” The story of Avarayr, after all, is a story of blood and sacrifice; of martyrdom—and survival. It is thus emblematic of our history as a Christian people from the beginning. Many times in our history, it has seemed as though Christianity in Armenia would die at the hands of persecutors: Persians, Arabs, Mongols, Turks, Bolsheviks. Always, with God’s help, the faith has survived; not without great cost, but it has survived.
This lesson would have been immediate for the people who founded this cathedral. The Armenian Genocide of 1915, which some of the cathedral’s builders experienced firsthand, and which all of them had heard about from friends and relatives who had survived, was only one of many trials that Armenian Christians have had to endure. Surely, the choice of Brave Vartan, a martyr for the faith whose legacy down the centuries is one of strength and triumph, was meant to associate this new, American cathedral with the message of survival and rebirth.
For Armenian Christians in America today, the future looks secure. We apparently are not called to suffer persecution and martyrdom. For our brothers and sisters in other countries, though, very grave threats remain. Many congregants at St. Vartan today escaped the pogroms that took place in Baku and Sumgait in the 1980s; they know what persecution means. In Syria, Armenian and other Christians are being forced to flee, lest they become victims of a radical Islamism that seeks their subjugation. Our cathedral’s name, St. Vartan, should serve as a reminder to us that in other parts of the world, Armenian Christians continue to pay a price for their faith. The name of our cathedral is an admonition: We must do what we can to help our brothers and sisters who are persecuted for their religion—our religion–and welcome them when, like our ancestors a few generations ago, they come to America to seek a more stable life. May this cathedral be a symbol of hope to them.
Lots of people are blogging and buzzing about the recent wide-ranging interview Justice Scalia gave to nymag.com. Here is a link to some parts of the interview having to do with things-Catholic. Interesting stuff. I hope that this bit reminds everyone of a certain great scene in a certain great movie:
Have you seen evidence of the Devil lately?
You know, it is curious. In the Gospels, the Devil is doing all sorts of things. He’s making pigs run off cliffs, he’s possessing people and whatnot. And that doesn’t happen very much anymore.
No.
It’s because he’s smart.
So what’s he doing now?
What he’s doing now is getting people not to believe in him or in God. He’s much more successful that way.
Edward Lev, beloved husband of MoJ friend Mary Ann Glendon of Harvard Law School, died unexpectedly this weekend after being hospitalized for what was thought to be a non-life threatening infection. He was 86 years old. Deepest condolences to Mary Ann and their daughters and grandchildren.
When he was 16 years old, Ed tried to sign up to fight in World War II. Later, he became a marine and fought in Korea. He then went to law school and on to a distinguished career as a labor lawyer and litigator with the firm of Sullivan and Worcester in Boston. In retirement, he often did legal work for good causes and also pursued an intellectual interest---one which he and I share and enjoyed discussing---in Abraham Lincoln and the Civil War.
He was a fine man in every way.
Requiescat in pace.
Sunday, October 6, 2013
Suppose we discover an advanced human civilization on another planet marked by a great divide between economic and educational classes but suffering at both ends of the spectrum from a quiet desperation caused by a gnawing emptiness and hunger that grows continually deeper despite continuous consumption of everything from the latest technology to cheap and often vulgar entertainments to food to sex. An almost endless array of choices faces members of this society with no concrete criteria by which to choose among goods. Loneliness abounds. This civilization’s mythical religious traditions of the past no longer provide meaning and guidance in their lives. Although “reason” had always had a tough time supplanting the impulse of arbitrary power, “power” now reigns supreme in the face of collapse of faith in reason. The family structure is fractured as are the political structures. Social bonds have become completely untethered. In this “civilization” many employers view workers as disposable means to the end of production and the fetus in the womb is often viewed as a disposable by-product of sexual autonomy.
As we begin a natural process of interacting with these neighbors, Pope Francis encourages missionary orders to proclaim the Gospel to this newly discovered civilization. How to bring Christ to this particular world with its myriad problems and dysfunctions? As the missionaries discern how to preach the Gospel to this particular people at this particular time, they begin to realize the daunting nature of the task. But, they have a powerful ally – the law written on the heart - on their side. Even if the people of this planet deny it, these missionaries know and trust that the natural law resides deep within each person. Following the tried and true method of Alcoholics Anonymous, and risking the label relativist, the missionaries will take the people of this civilization and their consciences as they are, trusting that with this starting place, these consciences will develop to conform to the objective truth as their world is re-enchanted with the message of a God of mercy; a God who is Love – who loves so much that He sent His only Son to be one with them and to suffer and die for them.
The missionaries know that to be successful they must live the Gospel and literally become Christ for these people. As hope comes to this lost people, the missionaries know that they will be open to hearing about the authentic freedom and happiness that comes from living according to God’s design. Although it will happen in fits and starts (after all, how many centuries did it take for the Christian West to root out the evil of slavery?), license – the false freedom of choice – leading to emptiness and despair will be replaced with living a moral life. For these people who breathe the narcissistic air of their culture, the saving hope of Christ must precede the Church’s moral teaching just as the adulteress experienced the loving gaze of and act of mercy from Christ BEFORE He tells her to go and sin no more.
This alien world is our world, or at least I suspect that Pope Francis thinks so. Despite the multiple signs to the contrary, many of us live, breathe, and operate as if this post-Christian civilization can be re-Christianized from within by re-membering our Christian, including moral, heritage. Pope Francis, I suspect, thinks we are wrong. He thinks that that this iteration of Western Civilization – the civilization that emerged from the ashes of the Roman Empire – is dead. We may not see it yet, but the dual projects of Reformation and Enlightenment, which have taken root over the last 500 years with the accompanying divorce of faith and reason and ultimate collapse of both, have run their course effectively destroying this iteration of Western Civilization.
Vatican II prepared us to respond to this reality, but we needed 50 more years or so to make clear that the Church was not changing its fundamental teachings before we could begin to proclaim the Gospel to this alien civilization in which we live. As this iteration of Western civilization dies and a new one rises from the ashes, we can rest assured that Christ will not abandon the Church. Come Holy Spirit!
