Link: amazon.de
Showing posts with label Christianity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Christianity. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 12, 2020
BOOK: Ethnography and Folklore of the Georgia-Chechnya Border. Images, Customs, Myths & Folk Tales of the Peripheries. By Shorena Kurtsikidze & Vakhtang Chikovani
Saturday, December 03, 2016
PHOTOGRAPHY: The Tale of the Last Molokans. By the Georgian Levan Kherkheulidze (georgianphotographers.com)
(georgianphotographers.com) A village in Kakheti (Eastern Georgia, Caucasus), formerly called Ulianovka, and even earlier mentioned as Alexandrovka, is a distinguished place – more than a century and a half it has been a residence area of the Molokans (Russian: молокане) are sectarian Christians with centuries-long history of existence) . Decades ago the whole village was densely populated but nowadays there are only 80 of them left.
The majority of the youth has left Georgia, or moved to towns. Only the elderly are left, sticking to their protestant belief and devoted to their customs.
The Molokan liturgy is a truly distinguished, interesting and joyful process to watch: on Sundays they gather in an azure-blue chapel-house, divide into two groups.
In the main chapel hall Nikolay Presbyter (priest) reads the Bible from the Obryadnik (or the Typicon/liturgical book), he offers prayers and chants together with the congregation.
There is a kitchen next door with a heated Russian Pechka (oven) and a stove.
Under the careful eye of the cook women roll out dough, put it on longer sticks and let it dry in the oven, later to slice it into strings of dough and boil noodles. Next to it one can see huge pots of steel, fixed in the middle of the stove, with boiling meat in one and compote (stewed fruit) in the other; Samovars are lined up outside: boiling water for some tea.
As soon as 3-hour-long prayers are finished, a long table is laid in the chapel; and while Nikolay the Presbyter keeps praying, the table is laid with the Samovars, teapots, tea glasses, pieces of sugar and candies. The joyful priest orders the Molokans to keep quiet and have some tee; the tee is again followed by prayers; the next is noodles, yet another session of prayers, then the sliced, boiled meet followed by apple compote, slightly shaded red with some extra cherry marmalade. All this is followed by yet another set of prayers, of course. The liturgy is over.
Having witnessed this, you can imagine yourself in a Russian fairy tale; though you can never get rid of the disturbing idea: this might be the tale of the last Molokans.
More photos by Levan Kherkheulidze are here in georgianphotographers.com
Interesting link: Molokane and Pryguny in Georgia
The majority of the youth has left Georgia, or moved to towns. Only the elderly are left, sticking to their protestant belief and devoted to their customs.
The Molokan liturgy is a truly distinguished, interesting and joyful process to watch: on Sundays they gather in an azure-blue chapel-house, divide into two groups.
In the main chapel hall Nikolay Presbyter (priest) reads the Bible from the Obryadnik (or the Typicon/liturgical book), he offers prayers and chants together with the congregation.
There is a kitchen next door with a heated Russian Pechka (oven) and a stove.
Under the careful eye of the cook women roll out dough, put it on longer sticks and let it dry in the oven, later to slice it into strings of dough and boil noodles. Next to it one can see huge pots of steel, fixed in the middle of the stove, with boiling meat in one and compote (stewed fruit) in the other; Samovars are lined up outside: boiling water for some tea.
As soon as 3-hour-long prayers are finished, a long table is laid in the chapel; and while Nikolay the Presbyter keeps praying, the table is laid with the Samovars, teapots, tea glasses, pieces of sugar and candies. The joyful priest orders the Molokans to keep quiet and have some tee; the tee is again followed by prayers; the next is noodles, yet another session of prayers, then the sliced, boiled meet followed by apple compote, slightly shaded red with some extra cherry marmalade. All this is followed by yet another set of prayers, of course. The liturgy is over.
Having witnessed this, you can imagine yourself in a Russian fairy tale; though you can never get rid of the disturbing idea: this might be the tale of the last Molokans.
 |
Molokans in Georgia, Photo: Levan Kherkheulidze
|
 |
Molokans in Georgia, Photo: Levan Kherkheulidze
|
 |
Molokans in Georgia, Photo: Levan Kherkheulidze
|
More photos by Levan Kherkheulidze are here in georgianphotographers.com
Interesting link: Molokane and Pryguny in Georgia
Sunday, July 06, 2014
RELIGION: The rise of Mormons and Jehovah's Witnesses in the Caucasus. By Tara Isabella Burton @T_I_Burton via via @AJAM (america.aljazeera.com)
(america.aljazeera.com) Armenia and Georgia were the first to adopt Christianity as their state religion; now, American evangelical sects beckon
In the Armenian town of Artashat, a grid of Soviet concrete and corrugated tin roofs an hour from the capital city of Yerevan, few buildings stand out like the meeting hall of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (LDS). Unlike the crumbling towers that surround it, this building sports an impeccably white façade. On one Sunday in May, more than a hundred Armenians — most in their 40s and 50s — are sharing what Mormons call spiritual “testimony,” their words translated via earpiece to attending American missionaries.
Here in the Caucasus region, ethnicity and faith are often treated as one. Christians in Armenia and Georgia — which in the fourth century became the first two countries worldwide to adopt Christianity as their state religion — almost uniformly belong to the Armenian Apostolic and Georgian Orthodox Churches, respectively (93 percent in Armenia, 83 percent in Georgia).
But a near-century of Soviet-imposed secularism dramatically weakened the standing of state churches. Now, many ethnic Armenians and Georgians are gravitating toward American evangelical sects with an emphasis on attracting converts and a strong missionary presence in the region, such as LDS and Jehovah’s Witnesses. In Armenia, the number of Jehovah’s Witnesses here hovers around 11,000; LDS claims more than 3,000 members (also known as Mormons). These may be small numbers, but they are significant in this country of 3 million, where practitioners of other faiths tend to be members of minority ethno-religious groups, such as Jews or Muslim Kurds.
Both Jehovah’s Witnesses and Mormons identify as Christians, although their non-Trinitarian doctrine — both deny that Jesus Christ shares a single fundamental divine essence with God the Father and the Holy Spirit — has often brought them into conflict with mainline Christian tradition.
“Ask any Armenian on the street and they’ll say, ‘Yes, I believe in God. I believe in Jesus,’ ” says Varuzhan Pogosyan, president of the LDS Mission in Armenia. “But they don’t always practice.”
Pogosyan’s journey started shortly after the fall of the Soviet Union. Then an expatriate in Russia, he attended a local Armenian church, both for spiritual reasons and for the opportunity to socialize with other ethnic Armenians. But an encounter with a Mormon missionary made him realize he could do more than just attend services. “I could participate,” he says. “I could be involved in the life of the church.” In the absence of formal clergy, the LDS church offers ordinary members a greater role in church affairs, Pogosyan explains.
It is this sense of involvement that inspired his colleague, Margarit Ayvazyan, to convert. Like Pogosyan, Ayvazyan grew up nonreligious during Soviet rule, adopting atheism as a philosophically inclined teenager. Yet her encounters with LDS missionaries in the early 90's left her with a sense of spiritual fulfillment she had not found in her parents’ Armenian Apostolic services. In a traditional Armenian service, she says, “You just stand there and the priests pray.” Many Armenians cannot even understand the classical Armenian used in services. In LDS, where congregants are encouraged to share their experiences and participate in Bible-study classes, she has a role to play. Even those church members who do not become missionaries are encouraged to circulate information among family and friends, recruit curious “investigators” to visit services and keep track of lapsed members. Pogosyan says most converts here grew up like Ayvazyan: secular under the Soviet regime, but now seeking something more.
In some ways, he says, their history makes his mission easier, as “Armenians have always been religious.” Soviet-era secularism was a temporary aberration, and organizations such as LDS are ideally situated to reach those whose religious needs have not been met elsewhere or who feel that the Armenian Apostolic Church has failed them. After all, in all the years since he left the Church, he’s never once been contacted by any priests trying to win him back or find out why he left: a striking contrast with the LDS church, whose members actively identify and reach out to those whose attendance has lapsed.
Of course, there are challenges. Smoking, drinking and abortion were all permissible under the Soviet regime, Pogosyan says, and encouraging new converts to maintain what he calls a “healthier” way of life is a struggle. The American missionaries at Artashat tell stories of priests who attacked their brethren in neighboring towns, boys who throw rocks at them as they walk down Yerevan streets (“I think [the boys] thought we were Jehovah’s Witnesses,” one laughs. “They can’t tell the difference”).
But the biggest challenge for those seeking to convert others may be reconciling converts’ faith with their ethnic identity. Many of Pogosyan’s countrymen see those who leave the Apostolic Church as less Armenian. He takes pains to emphasize the long-standing relationship between Armenia and the LDS church, which first took hold in the Armenian diaspora in 19th-century Constantinople, as well as the increasing number of foreign missionaries of Armenian descent who have come to their ancestral homeland to serve. He is also careful to stress the cultural similarities between Armenia and the LDS church. “We’re very big on family values in Armenia,” he says, making the LDS church here a perfect fit. Ultimately, his faith has made him more Armenian, not less. It has strengthened his relationship with his family, his local community. “It has made me a better citizen.”
Minority evangelical Christian sects face similar challenges in Armenia’s northern neighbor, Georgia, where religion and nationalism are even more closely intertwined. Between 1999 and 2003, Jehovah's Witnesses lodged almost 800 complaints of religiously-motivated incidents of conflict, many violent, says Manuchar Tsimintia, a lawyer and practicing Jehovah's Witness who frequently defends the church in human rights cases. Following Georgia's bloodless Rose Revolution in 2008 and the subsequent installation of Western-leaning Mikhail Saakashvili as president, things drastically improved, but tensions remain. This situation isn’t ameliorated by the fiercely Orthodox, nationalist stance of the ruling Georgian Dream coalition, which has succeeded Saakashvili's United National Movement. In early May, a group of teenagers destroyed a cart of pamphlets Jehovah’s Witnesses were using to proselytize in Tbilisi’s city center, although, Tsimintia is pleased to report, the police charged and fined the culprits responsible.
Still, he estimates that there are about 20,000 baptized converts; another 20,000 or so attend meetings and worship: such figures, if accurate, would comprise nearly 1 percent of Georgia's population. Like the Mormons in Armenia, adherents say they converted because of disillusionment with Soviet-style anti-clericalism and existing ecclesiastical institutions and a desire to participate more fully in the activities of their church.
“It was the end of the communist regime,” Tsimintia says of his joining the Jehovah’s Witnesses. “All people were seeking God.” But Tsimintia, then enrolled in college, felt dissatisfied by the Georgian Orthodox Church, which stirred him emotionally, but could not provide him with the answers he sought. “Who is God? Who are we? Where do we come from?” It was through independent Bible study, Tsimintia says, that he came to the conclusion the Jehovah’s Witnesses had access to spiritual truth.
Increasingly, he says, those who came of age after the collapse of the Soviet Union are also finding themselves disillusioned with what they see as hypocrisy and corruption within the current hierarchy of the Georgian Orthodox Church, whose vast wealth and close financial relationship with the country’s ruling classes have often attracted scrutiny. In 2009, for example, each of Georgia’s 10 archbishops received a luxury SUV from the Georgian government. And the disenchantment has only grown more common in recent years as the church has attempted to wield greater political influence through its alliance with the Georgian Dream party ruling coalition. Many youths are also critical of the church’s tacit approval of violence; in May 2013, local Tbilisi priests, leading a mob of 20,000, attacked a small group of unarmed anti-homophobia protesters, injuring at least 12.
“They are not living according to Bible standards,” Tsimintia says. “[That is what] young people see.”
His colleague Tamaz Khutsishvili recalls a friend who sought spiritual guidance from an Orthodox priest, only to have the priest turn up at his home “so drunk he could not stand up.” One potential convert became disillusioned with his own church after a local priest with whom he had entrusted some money for temporary safekeeping informed him he had spent the funds on the construction of a new church. And both Khutsishvili and Tsimintia condemn the Orthodox church-sanctioned anti-gay violence last year as an example of church hypocrisy. The Bible, they say, condemns aggression. “Even if [people] are doing something we see as against the Bible,” Khutsishvili says, “we must never talk of violence.”
Yet here, too, converts struggle with reconciling their cultural and religious identities. “You are not Christian. You are not Orthodox. You are not Georgian. I must have heard that 10 times a day,” says Tsimintia.
Still, as with the Mormons in Armenia, Tsimintia and Khutsishvili choose to appeal to history to defend the essential Georgianness of their choice. “Once our ancestors were pagans,” Khutsishvili says. “Then they found the truth and became Orthodox. Now we’re finding truth again — and converting. We are following our ancestors.”
In the Armenian town of Artashat, a grid of Soviet concrete and corrugated tin roofs an hour from the capital city of Yerevan, few buildings stand out like the meeting hall of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (LDS). Unlike the crumbling towers that surround it, this building sports an impeccably white façade. On one Sunday in May, more than a hundred Armenians — most in their 40s and 50s — are sharing what Mormons call spiritual “testimony,” their words translated via earpiece to attending American missionaries.
Here in the Caucasus region, ethnicity and faith are often treated as one. Christians in Armenia and Georgia — which in the fourth century became the first two countries worldwide to adopt Christianity as their state religion — almost uniformly belong to the Armenian Apostolic and Georgian Orthodox Churches, respectively (93 percent in Armenia, 83 percent in Georgia).
But a near-century of Soviet-imposed secularism dramatically weakened the standing of state churches. Now, many ethnic Armenians and Georgians are gravitating toward American evangelical sects with an emphasis on attracting converts and a strong missionary presence in the region, such as LDS and Jehovah’s Witnesses. In Armenia, the number of Jehovah’s Witnesses here hovers around 11,000; LDS claims more than 3,000 members (also known as Mormons). These may be small numbers, but they are significant in this country of 3 million, where practitioners of other faiths tend to be members of minority ethno-religious groups, such as Jews or Muslim Kurds.
Both Jehovah’s Witnesses and Mormons identify as Christians, although their non-Trinitarian doctrine — both deny that Jesus Christ shares a single fundamental divine essence with God the Father and the Holy Spirit — has often brought them into conflict with mainline Christian tradition.
“Ask any Armenian on the street and they’ll say, ‘Yes, I believe in God. I believe in Jesus,’ ” says Varuzhan Pogosyan, president of the LDS Mission in Armenia. “But they don’t always practice.”
Pogosyan’s journey started shortly after the fall of the Soviet Union. Then an expatriate in Russia, he attended a local Armenian church, both for spiritual reasons and for the opportunity to socialize with other ethnic Armenians. But an encounter with a Mormon missionary made him realize he could do more than just attend services. “I could participate,” he says. “I could be involved in the life of the church.” In the absence of formal clergy, the LDS church offers ordinary members a greater role in church affairs, Pogosyan explains.
It is this sense of involvement that inspired his colleague, Margarit Ayvazyan, to convert. Like Pogosyan, Ayvazyan grew up nonreligious during Soviet rule, adopting atheism as a philosophically inclined teenager. Yet her encounters with LDS missionaries in the early 90's left her with a sense of spiritual fulfillment she had not found in her parents’ Armenian Apostolic services. In a traditional Armenian service, she says, “You just stand there and the priests pray.” Many Armenians cannot even understand the classical Armenian used in services. In LDS, where congregants are encouraged to share their experiences and participate in Bible-study classes, she has a role to play. Even those church members who do not become missionaries are encouraged to circulate information among family and friends, recruit curious “investigators” to visit services and keep track of lapsed members. Pogosyan says most converts here grew up like Ayvazyan: secular under the Soviet regime, but now seeking something more.
In some ways, he says, their history makes his mission easier, as “Armenians have always been religious.” Soviet-era secularism was a temporary aberration, and organizations such as LDS are ideally situated to reach those whose religious needs have not been met elsewhere or who feel that the Armenian Apostolic Church has failed them. After all, in all the years since he left the Church, he’s never once been contacted by any priests trying to win him back or find out why he left: a striking contrast with the LDS church, whose members actively identify and reach out to those whose attendance has lapsed.
Of course, there are challenges. Smoking, drinking and abortion were all permissible under the Soviet regime, Pogosyan says, and encouraging new converts to maintain what he calls a “healthier” way of life is a struggle. The American missionaries at Artashat tell stories of priests who attacked their brethren in neighboring towns, boys who throw rocks at them as they walk down Yerevan streets (“I think [the boys] thought we were Jehovah’s Witnesses,” one laughs. “They can’t tell the difference”).
But the biggest challenge for those seeking to convert others may be reconciling converts’ faith with their ethnic identity. Many of Pogosyan’s countrymen see those who leave the Apostolic Church as less Armenian. He takes pains to emphasize the long-standing relationship between Armenia and the LDS church, which first took hold in the Armenian diaspora in 19th-century Constantinople, as well as the increasing number of foreign missionaries of Armenian descent who have come to their ancestral homeland to serve. He is also careful to stress the cultural similarities between Armenia and the LDS church. “We’re very big on family values in Armenia,” he says, making the LDS church here a perfect fit. Ultimately, his faith has made him more Armenian, not less. It has strengthened his relationship with his family, his local community. “It has made me a better citizen.”
Minority evangelical Christian sects face similar challenges in Armenia’s northern neighbor, Georgia, where religion and nationalism are even more closely intertwined. Between 1999 and 2003, Jehovah's Witnesses lodged almost 800 complaints of religiously-motivated incidents of conflict, many violent, says Manuchar Tsimintia, a lawyer and practicing Jehovah's Witness who frequently defends the church in human rights cases. Following Georgia's bloodless Rose Revolution in 2008 and the subsequent installation of Western-leaning Mikhail Saakashvili as president, things drastically improved, but tensions remain. This situation isn’t ameliorated by the fiercely Orthodox, nationalist stance of the ruling Georgian Dream coalition, which has succeeded Saakashvili's United National Movement. In early May, a group of teenagers destroyed a cart of pamphlets Jehovah’s Witnesses were using to proselytize in Tbilisi’s city center, although, Tsimintia is pleased to report, the police charged and fined the culprits responsible.
Still, he estimates that there are about 20,000 baptized converts; another 20,000 or so attend meetings and worship: such figures, if accurate, would comprise nearly 1 percent of Georgia's population. Like the Mormons in Armenia, adherents say they converted because of disillusionment with Soviet-style anti-clericalism and existing ecclesiastical institutions and a desire to participate more fully in the activities of their church.
“It was the end of the communist regime,” Tsimintia says of his joining the Jehovah’s Witnesses. “All people were seeking God.” But Tsimintia, then enrolled in college, felt dissatisfied by the Georgian Orthodox Church, which stirred him emotionally, but could not provide him with the answers he sought. “Who is God? Who are we? Where do we come from?” It was through independent Bible study, Tsimintia says, that he came to the conclusion the Jehovah’s Witnesses had access to spiritual truth.
Increasingly, he says, those who came of age after the collapse of the Soviet Union are also finding themselves disillusioned with what they see as hypocrisy and corruption within the current hierarchy of the Georgian Orthodox Church, whose vast wealth and close financial relationship with the country’s ruling classes have often attracted scrutiny. In 2009, for example, each of Georgia’s 10 archbishops received a luxury SUV from the Georgian government. And the disenchantment has only grown more common in recent years as the church has attempted to wield greater political influence through its alliance with the Georgian Dream party ruling coalition. Many youths are also critical of the church’s tacit approval of violence; in May 2013, local Tbilisi priests, leading a mob of 20,000, attacked a small group of unarmed anti-homophobia protesters, injuring at least 12.
“They are not living according to Bible standards,” Tsimintia says. “[That is what] young people see.”
His colleague Tamaz Khutsishvili recalls a friend who sought spiritual guidance from an Orthodox priest, only to have the priest turn up at his home “so drunk he could not stand up.” One potential convert became disillusioned with his own church after a local priest with whom he had entrusted some money for temporary safekeeping informed him he had spent the funds on the construction of a new church. And both Khutsishvili and Tsimintia condemn the Orthodox church-sanctioned anti-gay violence last year as an example of church hypocrisy. The Bible, they say, condemns aggression. “Even if [people] are doing something we see as against the Bible,” Khutsishvili says, “we must never talk of violence.”
Yet here, too, converts struggle with reconciling their cultural and religious identities. “You are not Christian. You are not Orthodox. You are not Georgian. I must have heard that 10 times a day,” says Tsimintia.
Still, as with the Mormons in Armenia, Tsimintia and Khutsishvili choose to appeal to history to defend the essential Georgianness of their choice. “Once our ancestors were pagans,” Khutsishvili says. “Then they found the truth and became Orthodox. Now we’re finding truth again — and converting. We are following our ancestors.”
Tuesday, August 20, 2013
PHOTOREPORTAGE: Georgian Monk Builds Stairway to Heaven. By Temo Bardzimashvili (eurasianet.org)
(eurasianet.org) Come summertime, getting away from it all is the dream that haunts everyone. One Georgian Orthodox monk, though, has come up with a plan for a lifetime of escape atop a 40-meter-high rock column in central Georgia’s Imereti region.
In pagan times, the towering Katskhi Pillar, located about 10 kilometers from the mining town of Chiatura, was thought to represent a local god of fertility. With the arrival of Christianity in Georgia in the 4th century, it came to represent seclusion from the hurly-burly of ordinary life.
A church was first built atop the rock between the 6th and 8th centuries -- no one knows exactly how or why. Stylites, early Christian ascetics who prayed and fasted on top of pillars, used Katskhi for their devotions until some time in the 15th century, when Georgia was struck by domestic upheaval and invasions by Ottoman Turkey. The remains of one unknown practitioner today lay buried beneath the church.
Father Maxim, a 55-year-old native of Chiatura, says that he has dreamed of living atop the Pillar, like the Stylites, since he was young. “When my friends and I used to come up here to drink outdoors, I always envied that monk who used to live there when I looked at the pillar,” he recalled.
In 1993, Father Maxim took monastic vows, and two years later decided to move to Katskhi. After spending one winter in a grotto beneath the rock column, he received money from a “friend from Tbilisi” to build a new church on its top. The Georgian Orthodox Church’s local eparchy, or regional administration, allegedly granted Father Maxim permission to erect the structure on the site.
Amidst an ongoing religious revival in Georgia, Father Maxim’s mission easily found supporters. More and more people now come to Katskhi to donate money or building materials for the church’s construction -- a generosity that makes the overall cost of the project difficult to estimate, he claims. Many local villagers also volunteer to work on the site for free.
The labor involved, though, can require a head for heights, as well as for matters spiritual. Scaffolding runs halfway up the column; an iron ladder reaches to the top. Builders use ropes to lift heavy construction materials from the ground.
Following the example of the first Stylite, Simeon, Father Maxim does not allow women on the site -- a ban also practiced at pagan shrines in Georgia’s mountain regions of Tusheti and Khevsureti.
Work on the project should be largely finished by the summer of 2011.
Before that date, Father Maxim hopes to secure a blessing from Georgian Orthodox Patriarch Ilia II that would allow the monk to live on top of Katskhi alongside his newly built church. “They told me they allowed me to come here, but not to live up there,” he recounted, laughing. “They told me I was too young then. Now they’ll probably tell me I’m too old.”
The Patriarch’s office could not be reached for comment.
But if the blessing ever comes, Father Maxim knows what he will do -- climb up Katskhi, pull the ladder up after him and live apart from the world’s tumult, once and for all. Editor's Note: Temo Bardzimashvili is a freelance photojournalist based in Tbilisi.
Photos are here >>>
In pagan times, the towering Katskhi Pillar, located about 10 kilometers from the mining town of Chiatura, was thought to represent a local god of fertility. With the arrival of Christianity in Georgia in the 4th century, it came to represent seclusion from the hurly-burly of ordinary life.
A church was first built atop the rock between the 6th and 8th centuries -- no one knows exactly how or why. Stylites, early Christian ascetics who prayed and fasted on top of pillars, used Katskhi for their devotions until some time in the 15th century, when Georgia was struck by domestic upheaval and invasions by Ottoman Turkey. The remains of one unknown practitioner today lay buried beneath the church.
Father Maxim, a 55-year-old native of Chiatura, says that he has dreamed of living atop the Pillar, like the Stylites, since he was young. “When my friends and I used to come up here to drink outdoors, I always envied that monk who used to live there when I looked at the pillar,” he recalled.
In 1993, Father Maxim took monastic vows, and two years later decided to move to Katskhi. After spending one winter in a grotto beneath the rock column, he received money from a “friend from Tbilisi” to build a new church on its top. The Georgian Orthodox Church’s local eparchy, or regional administration, allegedly granted Father Maxim permission to erect the structure on the site.
Amidst an ongoing religious revival in Georgia, Father Maxim’s mission easily found supporters. More and more people now come to Katskhi to donate money or building materials for the church’s construction -- a generosity that makes the overall cost of the project difficult to estimate, he claims. Many local villagers also volunteer to work on the site for free.
The labor involved, though, can require a head for heights, as well as for matters spiritual. Scaffolding runs halfway up the column; an iron ladder reaches to the top. Builders use ropes to lift heavy construction materials from the ground.
Following the example of the first Stylite, Simeon, Father Maxim does not allow women on the site -- a ban also practiced at pagan shrines in Georgia’s mountain regions of Tusheti and Khevsureti.
Work on the project should be largely finished by the summer of 2011.
Before that date, Father Maxim hopes to secure a blessing from Georgian Orthodox Patriarch Ilia II that would allow the monk to live on top of Katskhi alongside his newly built church. “They told me they allowed me to come here, but not to live up there,” he recounted, laughing. “They told me I was too young then. Now they’ll probably tell me I’m too old.”
The Patriarch’s office could not be reached for comment.
But if the blessing ever comes, Father Maxim knows what he will do -- climb up Katskhi, pull the ladder up after him and live apart from the world’s tumult, once and for all. Editor's Note: Temo Bardzimashvili is a freelance photojournalist based in Tbilisi.
Photos are here >>>
Friday, May 03, 2013
EASTER IN GEORGIA: Easter preparations begin on Good Friday today. By Natasha Jibladze
By Natasha Jibladze
Easter preparations begin on Good Friday when the traditional Easter bread Kulich is baked, and eggs are dyed red . Red is the color of life as well as a representation of the blood of Christ . From ancient times, the egg has been a symbol of the renewal of life, and the message of the red eggs is victory over death, universally used as means of Christian greeting and present. The symbolical and church significance of the egg has its roots in the greatest antiquity. Long before Christianity, all the cultured nations of antiquity held the egg to be the symbol of life in all their beliefs and customs. According to heathen cosmogonies, the original world’s chaos was contained in an egg, which broke into two halves, the one forming the sky and the other the earth.
Out of the lower part of the egg
Came mother earth.
Out of the upper part of the egg
Arose the high vault of the sky.
From the fact that this idea is to be found amongst all nations, one has to conclude that it is a reflection of the primitive belief which constituted the religion of mankind in the remotest antiquity and then universally spread at the time of the dispersion of nations.
With Christianity, the old belief receives new contents, and the egg receives a religious significance amongst the Christians. There exisits a tradition which makes Mary Magdalene to be the originator of the custom of using red eggs on Easter day. After the Ascension of our Saviour, Mary Magdalene went to Rome to preach the Gospel and, appearing before the Emporer Tiberius, she offered him a red egg, saying: CHRIST IS RISEN.” Thus was begun her preaching. Learning about this offering of Mary Magdalene, the early Christians imitated her, presenting each other with eggs. Hence, eggs began to be used by Christians in the earliest centuries as a symbol of the Resurrection of Christ and of the regeneration of Christians for a new and a better life along [with] it. The custom of presenting each other with red eggs was familiar to the Christians of the earliest Universal Church.
The red color, which generally is used for Easter eggs, serves to remind us of the precious blood of God the Redeemer, which was shed on the cross for the salvation of all men.
The blessing of the eggs takes place after the morning Easter service. The breaking of the lenten fasting on Easter Sunday begins with eating the blessed eggs.
Christ is Risen!
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
NEW BOOK: Cultural Archetypes and Political Change in the Caucasus. By Sergey Arutiunov (Author) & Nino Tsitsishvili (amazon.com)
Hardcover
Publisher: Nova Science Publishers (November 30, 2010)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1607417391
ISBN-13: 978-1607417392
For the people of the Caucasus history and ancestral heritage signals something that must be taken into account and set as an example for present actions. Today the Caucasus is a region where ancient pre-Christian and pre-Islamic rites of sun-worship, fertility, animal sacrifice, traditional moral views and cultural nationalism co-exist with international programs of human rights and equity, democratic political and governance structures, international jazz festivals and youth culture. The book interrogates the Caucasus through the prism of two interrelated categories of discourse, namely 'cultural archetypes' and 'political change'. Cultural archetypes reflect the persisting significance of historical memory and association with the past in customs, rituals, religion, inherited social values, everyday activities and artistic expressions. Political change is about globalisation, transnationalism and the turbulent political transition from closed, isolated and economically disadvantaged nations to open, pluralistic and democratic societies with more economic potential based on market economies that the Caucasian nations are currently experiencing. The book searches for crossroads between the two - how political changes can be based on existing cultural values and how cultures can serve as political discourse. Since recent political changes and future of the Caucasus are related to the establishment and possibility of building Western-style liberal democracy, many scholars and politicians contemplate whether it is feasible to build Western-style democracy while simultaneously preserving local social values. Will these nations go through the same way to democracy as did the West, or will they hold on to their unique physiognomy? Can traditional expressive cultures in the Caucasus preserve unique identity while political and social values will keep changing? The book does not provide a decisive answer, but by interrogating such persisting dichotomies as 'progressive' and 'static', 'pragmatic' and 'non-pragmatic', 'individualistic' and 'collectivist' societies, it certainly furthers our understanding of the relationship between the political and cultural realms of the Caucasus nations in comparison with those of the West.
AmazonShop: Books, Maps, Videos, Music & Gifts About The Caucasus
Publisher: Nova Science Publishers (November 30, 2010)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1607417391
ISBN-13: 978-1607417392
For the people of the Caucasus history and ancestral heritage signals something that must be taken into account and set as an example for present actions. Today the Caucasus is a region where ancient pre-Christian and pre-Islamic rites of sun-worship, fertility, animal sacrifice, traditional moral views and cultural nationalism co-exist with international programs of human rights and equity, democratic political and governance structures, international jazz festivals and youth culture. The book interrogates the Caucasus through the prism of two interrelated categories of discourse, namely 'cultural archetypes' and 'political change'. Cultural archetypes reflect the persisting significance of historical memory and association with the past in customs, rituals, religion, inherited social values, everyday activities and artistic expressions. Political change is about globalisation, transnationalism and the turbulent political transition from closed, isolated and economically disadvantaged nations to open, pluralistic and democratic societies with more economic potential based on market economies that the Caucasian nations are currently experiencing. The book searches for crossroads between the two - how political changes can be based on existing cultural values and how cultures can serve as political discourse. Since recent political changes and future of the Caucasus are related to the establishment and possibility of building Western-style liberal democracy, many scholars and politicians contemplate whether it is feasible to build Western-style democracy while simultaneously preserving local social values. Will these nations go through the same way to democracy as did the West, or will they hold on to their unique physiognomy? Can traditional expressive cultures in the Caucasus preserve unique identity while political and social values will keep changing? The book does not provide a decisive answer, but by interrogating such persisting dichotomies as 'progressive' and 'static', 'pragmatic' and 'non-pragmatic', 'individualistic' and 'collectivist' societies, it certainly furthers our understanding of the relationship between the political and cultural realms of the Caucasus nations in comparison with those of the West.
AmazonShop: Books, Maps, Videos, Music & Gifts About The Caucasus
Monday, October 11, 2010
DOCUMENTARY: The Stylite. A Matter Of Faith. (thestylite.com)
South of Russia and on the shores of the Black Sea sits the mountainous country of Georgia. Located in the Caucasus, one of the most linguistically and culturally diverse regions on earth; Georgia has historically been a crossroads between east and west.
In central Georgia’s Imereti region about 7 miles from the mining town of Chiatura there is an imposing 130 foot rock pillar called Katskhi that has been venerated since ancient times. With the arrival of Christianity in the 4th century, it became a place of seclusion and asceticism. Stylites, early Christian ascetics who prayed and fasted on pillars, used Katskhi for their devotions until the 15th century.outh of Russia and on the shores of the Black Sea sits the mountainous country of Georgia. Located in the Caucasus, one of the most linguistically and culturally diverse regions on earth; Georgia has historically been a crossroads between east and west.
In central Georgia’s Imereti region about 7 miles from the mining town of Chiatura there is an imposing 130 foot rock pillar called Katskhi that has been venerated since ancient times. With the arrival of Christianity in the 4th century, it became a place of seclusion and asceticism. Stylites, early Christian ascetics who prayed and fasted on pillars, used Katskhi for their devotions until the 15th century.
Father Maxim, a native of Chiatura has wanted to live atop the Katskhi pillar as a Stylite since childhood. With the help of local villagers and money from donors throughout Georgia he is rebuilding the church. Once finished, he hopes to receive permission from the Patriarch to fulfill that dream.
The Seed of this Project
While researching a film idea about a modern day Stylite, writer/director Stephen Riehl happened upon photojournalist Temo Bardzimashvili’s excellent photo essay entitled "Georgian Monk Builds Stairway to Heaven." He was shocked to find that the fictional character he was developing had a counterpart in reality. To his surprise there was actually a monk endeavoring to live out the rest of his days on a natural rock column in central Georgia known as the Katskhi Pillar.
This story lends itself well to Maboroshi Productions as it naturally calls for a contemplative approach-a light, even poetic touch to bring out a feeling of transcendence and interiority. Time itself will be a character as will the pillar and the surrounding villages.
Development began quickly with an email to Temo asking for more information about Father Maxim and his plans. Composer/sound designer Shawn Kelly has begun initial work on musical themes utilizing Georgian Polyphony (an ancient folk style of music with many differnet interweaving voices). Working with Producer/production manager Bryce Dorey, planning for a research trip to Georgia has begun.
more: thestylite.com
In central Georgia’s Imereti region about 7 miles from the mining town of Chiatura there is an imposing 130 foot rock pillar called Katskhi that has been venerated since ancient times. With the arrival of Christianity in the 4th century, it became a place of seclusion and asceticism. Stylites, early Christian ascetics who prayed and fasted on pillars, used Katskhi for their devotions until the 15th century.outh of Russia and on the shores of the Black Sea sits the mountainous country of Georgia. Located in the Caucasus, one of the most linguistically and culturally diverse regions on earth; Georgia has historically been a crossroads between east and west.
In central Georgia’s Imereti region about 7 miles from the mining town of Chiatura there is an imposing 130 foot rock pillar called Katskhi that has been venerated since ancient times. With the arrival of Christianity in the 4th century, it became a place of seclusion and asceticism. Stylites, early Christian ascetics who prayed and fasted on pillars, used Katskhi for their devotions until the 15th century.
Father Maxim, a native of Chiatura has wanted to live atop the Katskhi pillar as a Stylite since childhood. With the help of local villagers and money from donors throughout Georgia he is rebuilding the church. Once finished, he hopes to receive permission from the Patriarch to fulfill that dream.
The Seed of this Project
While researching a film idea about a modern day Stylite, writer/director Stephen Riehl happened upon photojournalist Temo Bardzimashvili’s excellent photo essay entitled "Georgian Monk Builds Stairway to Heaven." He was shocked to find that the fictional character he was developing had a counterpart in reality. To his surprise there was actually a monk endeavoring to live out the rest of his days on a natural rock column in central Georgia known as the Katskhi Pillar.
This story lends itself well to Maboroshi Productions as it naturally calls for a contemplative approach-a light, even poetic touch to bring out a feeling of transcendence and interiority. Time itself will be a character as will the pillar and the surrounding villages.
Development began quickly with an email to Temo asking for more information about Father Maxim and his plans. Composer/sound designer Shawn Kelly has begun initial work on musical themes utilizing Georgian Polyphony (an ancient folk style of music with many differnet interweaving voices). Working with Producer/production manager Bryce Dorey, planning for a research trip to Georgia has begun.
more: thestylite.com
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
GERMANY: Armenian community of Germany to have church in Halle (panarmenian.net)
PanARMENIAN.Net/ The Christian religious Armenian community of Amensdorf district of Halle, Germany, has obtained a land with a construction which earlier hosted a Catholic church.
The community’s shepherd, hieromonk Aivazian said this is the only church owned by Armenians in Germany.
“The Catholic church hasn’t functioned for three years already. And we are happy that with the city administration’s permission it will again bring the faithful under its roof,” said Herbert Siegfried, chairman of the Amensdorf society.
The opening ceremony will take place in June or July.
Over 500 000 ethnic Armenians need a church in Germany, reported the website of the Armenian community of Berlin.
The community’s shepherd, hieromonk Aivazian said this is the only church owned by Armenians in Germany.
“The Catholic church hasn’t functioned for three years already. And we are happy that with the city administration’s permission it will again bring the faithful under its roof,” said Herbert Siegfried, chairman of the Amensdorf society.
The opening ceremony will take place in June or July.
Over 500 000 ethnic Armenians need a church in Germany, reported the website of the Armenian community of Berlin.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
HISTORY: From Jerusalem to Byzantium: the phenomenon of Georgian pre-altar crosses (pdf). By Brigitta Schrade (Berlin)
Among the rich treasury of Georgian Christian art, so-called pre-altar crosses hold an eminent place. Up to 3 metres in height, they can still be found in some churches in the mountainous region Svaneti at their original place – on high pedestals in front of the entrance to the chancel. Their wooden kernels, being wrapped up with textiles, bear chased silver or silvergilt plates. These plates show representations of Christ, the Mother of God, saints and angels which are mostly unified into an iconographic programme. Some of the crosses are crowned by a “cap” that is decorated as well.
The Georgian pre-altar crosses have no direct parallels in the Medieval Christian art, neither of the East nor the West, although there can be traced some common roots with Irish High Crosses and the monumental crosses of Romanesque cross-altars. It may be assumed that they are a reminiscence of the Golgotha Cross in Jerusalem reflecting the cult of the Holy Cross which had been developed in Georgia from the 5th century onwards.
Following the Georgian chronicles, this cult was displayed in different forms. We find elements of the Byzantine ecclesiastical and state ideology after Emperor Constantine the Great. But before all, it was conditioned by the close connection of the East Georgian, i.e. Iberian, Church with the See of Antioch and, thus, the Holy Land. The sacred places there were the destination of monks and pilgrims, among them noblemen like Peter the Iberian, the later bishop of Maiuma. At the same time, they became the model for a “Second Jerusalem” in Mcxeta, the place of the conversion of the Iberians by St. Nino in the 4th century. To the “copies” of the Holy Land belonged also the most venerated crosses of Jerusalem: the triumphal cross on the Mount of Olives and the memorial cross on Golgotha.
Both crosses and their liturgical meaning melted in the Georgian cult of the Holy Cross. Following the Jerusalem liturgy, it included elements like the ad crucem services in Jerusalem, which were described by the 4th-century pilgrim Egeria. There was even created a special Feast of the Cross of Mcxeta, Aghvsebis Zatikis Zatiki, which corresponded to the Jerusalem cross feasts.
The strong orientation towards Jerusalem ended in the period of the 10th to the beginning of 11th century with the unification of the Georgian lands. The mighty Christian kingdom of Georgia (Sakartvelo) with its unified Church displayed its power from now on according to Byzantine splendour, introducing with the liturgy of Constantinople also the established Metaphrastic hagiography and the canon of Byzantine iconography, although adapted to its own conceptions.
From the rich and mostly unknown treasury of pre-altar crosses in Svaneti we may conclude that these crosses became a phenomenon of this change. Having lost their original function, they underwent a transformation from liturgical to cult objects. As latter, they continued to be of spiritual importance for the celebration of the Feast of the Cross in Mcxeta, the cradle of Georgian Christianity that was copied all over the country. But now, the monumental crosses were already decorated in a Byzantine style, following the iconographic schemes of processional crosses and wall-paintings. In Svaneti, we find some old fragments preserved with the Middle Byzantine decoration and showing the dramatic change from “old” to “new”.
The iconographic repertoire of the “byzantinized” crosses involves representations of Christ, the Mother of God, apostles, church fathers and saints which appear together with angels and Christian symbols, especially the cross, in the context of standard themes, like the Deesis or the Dodekaorton. The Mother of God is often combined with St. Barbara, the most venerated female saint, and warrior saints. Like on icons and in wall-paintings, the holy warriors are represented in varying combinations. St. George, the most popular of them, appears also with scenes of his life, so on the marvellous 11th-century cross from Seti.
The custom of erecting pre-altar crosses ended in the 17th century.
source: byzantinecongress.org.uk/comms/Schrade.pdf
www.byzantinecongress.org.uk
The Georgian pre-altar crosses have no direct parallels in the Medieval Christian art, neither of the East nor the West, although there can be traced some common roots with Irish High Crosses and the monumental crosses of Romanesque cross-altars. It may be assumed that they are a reminiscence of the Golgotha Cross in Jerusalem reflecting the cult of the Holy Cross which had been developed in Georgia from the 5th century onwards.
Following the Georgian chronicles, this cult was displayed in different forms. We find elements of the Byzantine ecclesiastical and state ideology after Emperor Constantine the Great. But before all, it was conditioned by the close connection of the East Georgian, i.e. Iberian, Church with the See of Antioch and, thus, the Holy Land. The sacred places there were the destination of monks and pilgrims, among them noblemen like Peter the Iberian, the later bishop of Maiuma. At the same time, they became the model for a “Second Jerusalem” in Mcxeta, the place of the conversion of the Iberians by St. Nino in the 4th century. To the “copies” of the Holy Land belonged also the most venerated crosses of Jerusalem: the triumphal cross on the Mount of Olives and the memorial cross on Golgotha.
Both crosses and their liturgical meaning melted in the Georgian cult of the Holy Cross. Following the Jerusalem liturgy, it included elements like the ad crucem services in Jerusalem, which were described by the 4th-century pilgrim Egeria. There was even created a special Feast of the Cross of Mcxeta, Aghvsebis Zatikis Zatiki, which corresponded to the Jerusalem cross feasts.
The strong orientation towards Jerusalem ended in the period of the 10th to the beginning of 11th century with the unification of the Georgian lands. The mighty Christian kingdom of Georgia (Sakartvelo) with its unified Church displayed its power from now on according to Byzantine splendour, introducing with the liturgy of Constantinople also the established Metaphrastic hagiography and the canon of Byzantine iconography, although adapted to its own conceptions.
From the rich and mostly unknown treasury of pre-altar crosses in Svaneti we may conclude that these crosses became a phenomenon of this change. Having lost their original function, they underwent a transformation from liturgical to cult objects. As latter, they continued to be of spiritual importance for the celebration of the Feast of the Cross in Mcxeta, the cradle of Georgian Christianity that was copied all over the country. But now, the monumental crosses were already decorated in a Byzantine style, following the iconographic schemes of processional crosses and wall-paintings. In Svaneti, we find some old fragments preserved with the Middle Byzantine decoration and showing the dramatic change from “old” to “new”.
The iconographic repertoire of the “byzantinized” crosses involves representations of Christ, the Mother of God, apostles, church fathers and saints which appear together with angels and Christian symbols, especially the cross, in the context of standard themes, like the Deesis or the Dodekaorton. The Mother of God is often combined with St. Barbara, the most venerated female saint, and warrior saints. Like on icons and in wall-paintings, the holy warriors are represented in varying combinations. St. George, the most popular of them, appears also with scenes of his life, so on the marvellous 11th-century cross from Seti.
The custom of erecting pre-altar crosses ended in the 17th century.
source: byzantinecongress.org.uk/comms/Schrade.pdf
www.byzantinecongress.org.uk
Sunday, August 05, 2007
REPORTAGE & PHOTOGRAPHY:
ARMENIAN FESTIVAL COMBINES PAGANISM AND NATIONALISM
By Onnik Krikorian 7/27/07 (EurasiaNet) with great photos
Tradition, in the South Caucasus, dies hard. With the ancient July festival of Vardavar, one small group of Armenians is seeing a chance to relive Armenia’s pagan past, and affirm the country’s national identity.
Armenia adopted Christianity as its state religion in 301 AD, thereafter destroying or converting its pagan temples. For most Armenians, this date represents the turning point for their nation, and one that would later distance it from Muslim neighbors in Iran, Azerbaijan and Turkey.
But each year at Armenia’s only remaining pagan temple, at Garni, 32 kilometers east of Yerevan, a few hundred Armenians gather to celebrate Vardavar as an event that they consider represents Armenians’ true and original faith. The festival is perhaps the most popular of all traditional and religious events in the Armenian calendar, with youngsters and adults gleefully dumping water over hapless passers-by.
The celebration has now been absorbed into the Christian calendar, but was traditionally associated with Astghik, the Armenian goddess of water, beauty, love and fertility. The festival’s name is derived from the Armenian word for rose, "vard." Early observers of Vardavar offered Astghik roses and sprinkled water on each other, or feasted near water in the hope that she would provide rain in time for harvest.
Now re-invented to represent the transfiguration of Christ, the holiday is scheduled by the Armenian Church to be held approximately 98 days after Easter.
At Garni, pagan priests placed sacrificial knives in fire, as well as rose petals in earthenware jugs of water, before reading aloud from the Ukhtagir, a collection of pre-Christian folk stories and legends immortalizing Armenia’s pagan gods written by Slak Kakosian, the founder of the Pagan Covenant, one of Armenia’s main pagan organizations. Founded in 1990, the group now claims it has over 1,000 members.
In the group’s events, nationalism and paganism mingle equally. "We are pagans," said 43-year-old Zohrab Petrosian, Kakosian’s successor. "We are Armenians, but we don’t know our true religion. Simply lighting a candle in a church or wearing a cross around our necks does not make us Christian. I’ve been a member of this organization for 10 years, but as an Armenian I’ve been pagan since the day I was born."
At the Garni Vardavar observances, one of the highest-profile attendees was Armen Avetisian, leader of the ultra-nationalist Union of Armenian Aryans, who received a three-year suspended sentence in 2005 for inciting racial hatred against Jews. [For background see the Eurasia Insight archive].
Avetisian and his followers wore black t-shirts featuring the picture of Garegin Njdeh, an Armenian national hero who lived from 1886-1955. Njdeh was a skillful military leader and anti-Bolshevik activist who developed a philosophy that blended religious and nationalist elements. His ideas have been influential in shaping the political platforms of modern-day parties, including the governing Republican Party of Armenia, as well as its junior coalition partner, the Armenian Revolutionary Federation – Dashnakstutiun.
Until recently, many of those attending the pagan festivals were affiliated with the Republican Party, but now members of other parties are starting to join in. This year, for example, apart from members of the Union of Armenian Ayrans, most other people in attendance identified themselves as members of the Armenian Revolutionary Federation – Dashnakstutiun.
The appearance of ultra-nationalists, however, raises concern in some circles that the pagan movement could make a radical departure toward the extreme right. Armenian pagans tend to dismiss the concern, though. Many at the Garni observances said politics wasn’t a factor for them. Robert Garabedian, an ethnic Armenian astrophysicist from Germany, was baptized as a pagan at the Garni event. Speaking to EurasiaNet, Garabedian said that spending Vardavar at the temple site carried a personal rather than political significance. "I’m Zoroastrian, Christian and Buddhist, and now I want to be baptized into the same religion that my [Armenian] ancestors followed," he said.
The hordes of children drenching pedestrians and motorists with water usually overshadow any such quests for meaning on Vardavar. Even so, Armenia’s pagans might take comfort in the fact that torrential rains unexpectedly hit Armenia at the festival’s end on July 15. As the rain poured down in the days that followed, one can only wonder if Astghik wasn’t listening, after all.
Editor’s Note: Onnik Krikorian is a journalist and photographer from the United Kingdom living and working in the Republic of Armenia.
There are more photographs at the following URLs: (Thanks Onnik!!!)http://oneworld.blogsome.com/2007/07/15/vardavar-garni-kotayk-region/
http://oneworld.blogsome.com/2007/07/15/vardavar-garni-kotayk-region-2/
http://oneworld.blogsome.com/2007/07/15/pagan-armenians-celebrate-vardavar/
ARMENIAN FESTIVAL COMBINES PAGANISM AND NATIONALISM
By Onnik Krikorian 7/27/07 (EurasiaNet) with great photos
Tradition, in the South Caucasus, dies hard. With the ancient July festival of Vardavar, one small group of Armenians is seeing a chance to relive Armenia’s pagan past, and affirm the country’s national identity.
Armenia adopted Christianity as its state religion in 301 AD, thereafter destroying or converting its pagan temples. For most Armenians, this date represents the turning point for their nation, and one that would later distance it from Muslim neighbors in Iran, Azerbaijan and Turkey.
But each year at Armenia’s only remaining pagan temple, at Garni, 32 kilometers east of Yerevan, a few hundred Armenians gather to celebrate Vardavar as an event that they consider represents Armenians’ true and original faith. The festival is perhaps the most popular of all traditional and religious events in the Armenian calendar, with youngsters and adults gleefully dumping water over hapless passers-by.
The celebration has now been absorbed into the Christian calendar, but was traditionally associated with Astghik, the Armenian goddess of water, beauty, love and fertility. The festival’s name is derived from the Armenian word for rose, "vard." Early observers of Vardavar offered Astghik roses and sprinkled water on each other, or feasted near water in the hope that she would provide rain in time for harvest.
Now re-invented to represent the transfiguration of Christ, the holiday is scheduled by the Armenian Church to be held approximately 98 days after Easter.
At Garni, pagan priests placed sacrificial knives in fire, as well as rose petals in earthenware jugs of water, before reading aloud from the Ukhtagir, a collection of pre-Christian folk stories and legends immortalizing Armenia’s pagan gods written by Slak Kakosian, the founder of the Pagan Covenant, one of Armenia’s main pagan organizations. Founded in 1990, the group now claims it has over 1,000 members.
In the group’s events, nationalism and paganism mingle equally. "We are pagans," said 43-year-old Zohrab Petrosian, Kakosian’s successor. "We are Armenians, but we don’t know our true religion. Simply lighting a candle in a church or wearing a cross around our necks does not make us Christian. I’ve been a member of this organization for 10 years, but as an Armenian I’ve been pagan since the day I was born."
At the Garni Vardavar observances, one of the highest-profile attendees was Armen Avetisian, leader of the ultra-nationalist Union of Armenian Aryans, who received a three-year suspended sentence in 2005 for inciting racial hatred against Jews. [For background see the Eurasia Insight archive].
Avetisian and his followers wore black t-shirts featuring the picture of Garegin Njdeh, an Armenian national hero who lived from 1886-1955. Njdeh was a skillful military leader and anti-Bolshevik activist who developed a philosophy that blended religious and nationalist elements. His ideas have been influential in shaping the political platforms of modern-day parties, including the governing Republican Party of Armenia, as well as its junior coalition partner, the Armenian Revolutionary Federation – Dashnakstutiun.
Until recently, many of those attending the pagan festivals were affiliated with the Republican Party, but now members of other parties are starting to join in. This year, for example, apart from members of the Union of Armenian Ayrans, most other people in attendance identified themselves as members of the Armenian Revolutionary Federation – Dashnakstutiun.
The appearance of ultra-nationalists, however, raises concern in some circles that the pagan movement could make a radical departure toward the extreme right. Armenian pagans tend to dismiss the concern, though. Many at the Garni observances said politics wasn’t a factor for them. Robert Garabedian, an ethnic Armenian astrophysicist from Germany, was baptized as a pagan at the Garni event. Speaking to EurasiaNet, Garabedian said that spending Vardavar at the temple site carried a personal rather than political significance. "I’m Zoroastrian, Christian and Buddhist, and now I want to be baptized into the same religion that my [Armenian] ancestors followed," he said.
The hordes of children drenching pedestrians and motorists with water usually overshadow any such quests for meaning on Vardavar. Even so, Armenia’s pagans might take comfort in the fact that torrential rains unexpectedly hit Armenia at the festival’s end on July 15. As the rain poured down in the days that followed, one can only wonder if Astghik wasn’t listening, after all.
Editor’s Note: Onnik Krikorian is a journalist and photographer from the United Kingdom living and working in the Republic of Armenia.
There are more photographs at the following URLs: (Thanks Onnik!!!)http://oneworld.blogsome.com/2007/07/15/vardavar-garni-kotayk-region/
http://oneworld.blogsome.com/2007/07/15/vardavar-garni-kotayk-region-2/
http://oneworld.blogsome.com/2007/07/15/pagan-armenians-celebrate-vardavar/
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
