The two-day ceremony began on Saturday evening, July 10. Dn. Leon knelt before the altar in a traditional calling service that symbolizes a deacon’s formal presentation to the Lord as a candidate for the priesthood.

On Sunday, July 11, the Feast of the Transfiguration of Our Lord, Archbishop Barsamian ordained Dn. Leon to the priesthood during the celebration of the Divine Liturgy.

Also participating in the ordination service were the Rev. Fr. Hovsep Karapetyan, the pastor of St. Mary Church, and the Rev. Fr. Vertanes Kalayjian, the long-serving former pastor of the community. Fr. Karapetyan and Fr. Kalayjian served as sponsoring priests at the ordination.

Archbishop Barsamian performed the “laying on of hands” ritual, which binds all priests of the Armenian Church into the “apostolic succession,” linking clergy through the generations back to Apostles Thaddeus and Bartholomew-who brought Christianity to Armenia in the 1st century-and back before them to Christ himself.

Archbishop Barsamian later consecrated Dn. Leon’s forehead and his hands with holy chrism (muron), and gave him the priestly name “Hovhan.” At the conclusion of the service, the newly ordained priest gave his first blessing to the faithful at St. Mary Church.

In his sermon, the Primate spoke about the Feast of the Transfiguration-one of the five major feast days of the Armenian Church which recalls Christ’s ascent up Mount Tabor with the disciples Peter, James, and John, where Christ was transfigured in a blinding white light and the voice of God affirmed Jesus as his Son.

“The disciples see our Lord transformed,” Archbishop Barsamian said. “And in doing so, the disciples are transformed as well-but in a different way. Peter, James, and John, after sharing this special moment with Jesus, go on to become the greatest supports in Christ’s ministry; the ones our Lord most relied on-and the ones from whom he expected the most.”

“Today, in this church, we have seen a similar kind of transformation-as mysterious in its way as the Transfiguration,” Archbishop Barsamian continued. “In this ordination, we have seen a man transformed. Today, the Holy Spirit entered into Dn. Leon Khoja-Eynatyan, and he became something new.”

The entire Parish Council hosted the ordination; chair Zakar Shahverdian served as godfather. A celebratory luncheon followed in the church hall.

Some 800 people gathered for the event, including Ambassador Garen Nazarian, Armenia’s representative to the United Nations, along with other dignitaries and diplomats from U.N. member nations.

Archbishop Khajag Barsamian, Primate of the Eastern Diocese of the Armenian Church of America, presided and officiated at the requiem service that began the evening.

The concert featured works by Komitas, Khachaturian, and others, as performed by pianist Karine Poghosyan, the Merlin Virtuosi string quartet, and the St. Vartan Cathedral Choir under the direction of Maestro Khoren Mekanejian.

Ms. Poghosyan received a standing ovation for her stirring performance of Khachaturian’s Piano Sonata (1961). “She made a jaw-dropping impression,” commented master pianist Sahan Arzruni of Ms. Poghosyan’s performance. “The three-movement Khachaturian Sonata—a rarely performed composition—is a real tour-de-force for the virtuoso pianist. Technically pristine, Ms. Poghosyan brought out the driven qualities of the outer movements, and the heart-rending beauty of the middle section.”

Soloists Vagharshak Ohanyan, Anahit Zakarian, Anoush Barclay, Hasmig Meikhanedjian, and Maro Partamian also moved the audience with their renderings of Armenian choral pieces, with the St. Vartan Cathedral Choir lending a beautifully balanced texture and precision of tone.

The event was sponsored through the generosity of the Edward and Grace Alexanian Fund. Floral crosses – donated by Adrienne Alexanian in memory of her parents and grandparents – were displayed on trees surrounding St. Vartan Cathedral.

The concert was organized by creative directors Karine Poghosyan and Maestro Khoren Mekanejian, and the Rev. Fr. Mardiros Chevian, dean of St. Vartan Cathedral.

“We see such horrors even today”

In formal remarks to the audience after the concert, Armenia’s UN Ambassador Nazarian noted the importance of bringing to an end Turkey’s policy of denial of the Armenian Genocide, emphasizing the important role played by the international community and the diaspora in this effort.

He also stressed that it is important for the international community to be committed to the Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide and other international treaties on human rights, and to press Turkey to respect the provisions of these documents.

Failure to recognize the Genocide “resulted in untold suffering for millions others during and after World War II,” Ambassador Nazarian said. To the audience, and especially to his colleagues in the diplomatic community, Ambassador Nazarian said he saw them all as a coalition “committed to education aimed at the eradication, once and for all, of racism, xenophobia, and the prevention of genocides.”

The ambassador affirmed that “Throughout their history, Armenians have experienced intolerance over and over again.” But genocide was not something that ended in the remote past: the events of 1915 find echoes in the news of today, and “we see such horrors even today in different parts of the world.”

Appealing to his diplomatic colleagues, he said: “Today the international community is not responsible for such crimes [of genocide]. But we are responsible for not recognizing that crime.”

THE ROMAN EMPIRE OF THE FIRST CENTURY was an entity of many glories: arguably mankind’s greatest political achievement to that time. Yet when we remember it today, we are transfixed by its cruelty and disregard for life; its mask of civility hiding a darker truth.

Ordinarily, this truth would have been left in the shadows of history. But something exposed it, illuminated it. What could have shined this light of truth?

The unexpected answer is this: The sufferings of an innocent person—and the miraculous event that followed. But most important of all, the source of both the miracle and the light was love: God’s love, embodied in the person of Jesus Christ.

Such thoughts seem deeply present among us this Easter. For this year we are reminded again of how another empire meted out suffering to innocent souls. As in our Lord’s case, for those innocents—our own parents and grandparents—their suffering was not an end, but rather a passage to something else: for the departed, enduring memory in our community; for the survivors, continued lives of goodness, kindness and, miraculously, love.

Now, ninety-five years after the Genocide, nearly all who endured it have been gathered to our Lord; the last precious survivors are those who witnessed the cataclysm as children or infants. But this is another point of contact with our Lord Jesus. For we cannot forget that he, too, was marked for extinction in his infancy. He too began life as the survivor of an attempt to wipe out an entire class of human beings. Such memories must have left their impression on him. Was our Lord’s tenderness towards children—so rare for that day—a reflection of the burdensome knowledge he carried, that infants in Bethlehem had died, while he had lived?

Throughout his ministry our Lord showed the greatest love for those who most acutely felt man’s essential neediness: our vulnerability to the abuses of the world; our in¬comple¬te¬ness without God. “Blessed are the poor in spirit,” he preached in the Sermon on the Mount (Mt 5:1-16). “Blessed are the mourners, the meek, the pure in heart.” His blessings flowed to those who had felt the sting of persecution, and the absence of mercy; who craved peace, and hungered for the world to be set aright. A portrait emerges of those who are touched by God: not the powerful, but those aware of the illusion of human power; its tendency to turn against others, to reduce and dehumanize them.

Jesus did not utter these things out of some romantic idealization of defeat; nor out of commiseration, or pity. To the contrary, he taught that it is in the forge of such bitter experience that one could see the reality of the human condition, and the reality of God, with the greatest clarity. The experience of suffering and loss, bravely and faithfully endured, would be a beacon of truth, to illuminate mankind.

“You are the light of the world,” he told his careworn friends. “A city set on a hill cannot be hid; neither do men light a candle to cover it, but they put it on a candlestick—to give light to all in the house. Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father in heaven.”

In such words, Christ subtly anticipated the meaning of Easter: the uncanny miracle that drew life out of death, victory out of defeat, truth out of a deceitful world. Above all, it was a miracle of love: God’s love for mankind, his willingness to sacrifice his only Son on our behalf. When, in the hours prior to his own suffering, our Lord said, “I am the light of the world” (Jn 8:12), he was assuring us that he would always stand with those who testified to the truth through their affliction.

And so Christ stood with our elders who endured the Genocide: for they too have testified to the truth—against the powerful, the persecutors, the deniers of our own age. Their victory—the lives of love, grace, and dignity the survivors went on to lead—was of a piece with the Resurrection: not entirely a supernatural miracle, to be sure, but an affirmation of the meaning of Christ’s sacrifice. In the deepest sense, each of their million-and-more stories was a recapitulation, a memory, a revelation, of the story of Easter.

As we say farewell to that generation—both in public as a community, and in the most personal ways, as through the loss of a father—we should hail them in the loving manner of our Lord: “You were the light of the world: In life, you would not be hidden; and you brought light to everyone in our house.”

And we pray that from their rest in God’s kingdom, the souls of our heroic generation may reply to us: “Now you must be that light. Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works—our good works—and glorify our Father in heaven.”

Let that thought be in our hearts, as on our lips we pronounce the Easter greeting that has always held such depth of meaning for our people:

Krisdos haryav ee merelotz! Orhnyal eh harootiunun Krisdosee!
Christ is risen from the dead! Blessed is the resurrection of Christ!

A “Mediterranean Dinner” was planned and executed by both parishes working together and we are happy to report it was a BIG success.  We served “319” dinners with the help of many volunteers. St. Sarkis is a small Parish and partnering with St. Vincent provided a successful fundraiser for both parishes.

The committee was chaired by Myrna Seropian along with Noelle Sarkissian, Lena Neau & Donna Loutigian.

The weekend ended with Sunday Badarak, whereby Archbishop Aykazian was the celebrant and Dr. Garibian served on the altar as a deacon.