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In the temple, a righteous and devout man named Simeon to whom it had been revealed that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord, took Jesus in his arms, blessed God and said, “Master, now you are dismissing your servant in peace, according to your word, for my eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for…
Yesterday, a Stradivarius violin was sold at Sotheby’s for a staggering $11.25 million. Can you imagine? A single instrument, but so rare, so valuable, that people were willing to pay millions just to own it. But that reminded me of a powerful story about a different Stradivarius violin.
In the early 20th century, the renowned violinist Fritz Kreisler shocked an audience during a concert. Standing before them, he raised his violin high and, to their horror, smashed it over a chair! Gasps filled the room. The audience could hardly believe what they had witnessed. A Stradivarius—one of the finest violins in the world—destroyed in an instant!
Grigor Khalatiants, historian and philologist, was an important name in Armenian Studies in the late 19th century and beginning of the 20th, even though some of his works have been rejected for their maximalist positions, while others have maintained their value until our days.
He was born on September 15, 1858, in Alexandropol (nowadays Gyumri). He studied at the Lazarian College of Moscow in 1868-1877 and, upon graduation, he entered medical school at the University of Moscow, but after three years, he made a complete shift to the School of History and Linguistics, graduating in 1884.
When I was 14 years old, I visited Sevan Monastery for the first time with the youth group of the Araratian Diocese. We were driving toward the Peninsula, and as we got closer, the view became more and more beautiful. The sparkling lake, the green hills, the dramatic cliffs, and finally, the magnificent Monastery—it all seemed to unfold in breathtaking glory the closer we got.
That’s exactly what happens when you get closer to God. The closer you get to Him, the more of His goodness and beauty you will see. The more you look to Him, the more you seek Him, the more His light will illuminate your life.
The Bible says in James 4:8, “Draw near to God, and He will draw near to you.” That’s His promise to us. When you make the decision to pursue God, to seek Him in prayer, worship, and obedience, life takes on a whole new beauty….
Have you ever tried to watch a dove in its natural setting? They’re not like loud birds that demand attention. Doves are quiet, almost shy. If you want to see their beauty, you’ve got to slow down, quiet yourself, and watch without disturbing them.
The Bible often uses the dove as an image for the Spirit of God. Because the dove teaches us something profound about how we need to approach God. When Jesus was baptized, the heavens opened, and the Holy Spirit descended upon Him in the form of a dove (Matthew 3:16). God was showing us something about His Spirit—that His presence is gentle yet powerful. It’s inviting but not forceful.
And just like observing a dove, connecting with the Holy Spirit requires something special from us. If you want to experience His presence, you’ve got to pause, be still, and remain attentive.
On Saturday, February 8, the Armenian Church commemorates the sons and grandsons of St. Gregory the Illuminator, namely, Sts. Aristakes, Vrtanes, Housik, Grigoris, and Daniel (who was not related, but was a distinguished and favorite student of St. Gregory). All of them continued the work of St. Gregory, preaching the word of Christ to pagans at great personal peril. Gregory had two sons, Aristakes and Vrtanes. Aristakes, the younger son, succeeded…
One of the most memorable and fearful times that I remember when I attended school some thirty-five years ago in Yerevan was the day when I walked into the Algebra classroom, sat down, and heard those words: “Clear your desk, take out a sheet of paper and a pen. There will be a test today.”
Have you ever been there? You’re going about your week, everything feels smooth and steady, and then, out of nowhere, you’re hit with a surprise test. Maybe it’s a call from the doctor with news you weren’t ready for. Maybe it’s a challenge at work you didn’t anticipate. Or maybe it’s a disagreement with someone you care about deeply. Life has a way of surprising us with its tests.
Hovhannes Mirza-Vanandetsi was one of the exponents of Armenian classicism in the nineteenth century.
Mirza-Vanandetsi, whose actual name was Amirzade Mirzayan, was born in Van in 1772. He became an orphan at the age of four and was placed in the care of the brotherhood of the monastery of the island of Gduts, where he grew up and received his early education. He was a gifted student and became and deacon. At the age of twenty, he moved to Constantinople to further his education. He studied at the Tbradun School, under the sponsorship of the Armenian Patriarchate, where he studied grammar, rhetoric, and logic. He graduated in 1798 and the following year he was appointed teacher at the recently opened Mesrobian School of Smyrna, where he taught until 1816. He was ordained a married priest in 1817 and remained in Smyrna for the rest of his life. He passed away on February 3, 1841, after a long illness.
This Saturday, February 1, the Armenian Church commemorates Saint Gregory the Theologian, also known as St. Gregory of Nazianzus, who is considered to be one of the great fathers of the Eastern Church. He was the son of the bishop of Nazianzus in Cappadocia. A great orator, his famous Five Theological Orations were powerful statements of faith and an eloquent defense of orthodoxy that earned him the title “the Theologian.” He also wrote poetry, letters, and with St. Basil compiled a selection of writings by Origen.
There were three friends with big dreams and hearts full of passion, ready to change the world. One dreamed of being a peacemaker, bringing harmony to broken lives. Another had a heart for feeding the hungry, determined to erase poverty. The third chose a life of prayer as a monk, dedicating himself to seeking God’s presence. Each felt called by God to make an impact, to leave the world better than they found it.
But life didn’t unfold as planned. The peacemaker worked tirelessly, joining organizations and striving to stop conflict, yet the fighting continued. Despite his best efforts, he felt defeated and drained, his hope fading. The one feeding the poor gave all he had—setting up soup kitchens and distributing food—but the needs kept growing. He, too, felt overwhelmed, wondering if his work even mattered.
