“whenever two Armenians meet . . .”
Krikor
Naregatsi
(Gegory
of
Nareg),
who
spent
his
entire
life
in
the
monastery,
died
at
the
relatively
young
age
of
50,
but
what
he
has
left
behind
has
outlived
his
time
and
age:
as
long
as
one
Armenian
heart
beats
anywhere
in
this
world,
his
inspired
odes
and
lamentations
will
continue
to
find
an
echo there.
His
writings,
described
by
critics
as
"literary
masterpieces
in
both
lyrical
verse
and
narrative,"
have
only
been
known
in
their
original
golden
Grapar
(Classical
Armenian)
to
a
select
cadre
of
Armenian
scholars,
an
oversight
now
boldly
atoned
for
by
the
eminent
expert
on
Medieval
Armenian literature, Dr Abraham Terian.
His
"groundbreaking"
and
"magnificent"
new
book,
"The
Festal
Works
of
St
Gregory
of
Narek"
(461
pp,
the
Liturgical
Press,
Minnesota,
2016)
is
the
first
translation
(embellished
with
54
pages
of
introduction
and
an
array
of
explanatory
notes)
in
any
language,
of
the
surviving
corpus
of
Naregatsi's
festal
works.
Terian's
mellifluous
English
and
his
mastery
of
Grapar,
have
made
this
onerous
task
a
joy
and
a
celebration.
Like
all
other
Jerusalem
Armenians,
Terian's
first
encounter
with
Naregatsi
occurred
at
a
tender
age,
when
at
the
graduation
ceremony
of
primary
students
at
the
Armenian
parish
school
he,
like
all
his
classmates,
was
handed
a
copy
of
a
Naregatsi
prayer
book,
the
"Aghotamadyan"
as
a
parting
gift,
to
be
his
guide
and
inspiration
for the days ahead.
The
tradition
continues
to
this
day.
I've
kept
my
own
copy
for
half
a
century,
and
remember
a
line
from
one
of
Naregatsi's
most
poignant
odes,
his
magnificat
of
God:
"The
darkness
of
the
night
cannot
eclipse
the
glory
and
grandeur
of
your
dominion"
(my
translation).
With
his
new
book
Terian,
who
has
won
plaudits
from
various
parts
of
the
world,
the
latest
his
acceptance
as
a
fellow
academician
(as
an
"orientalist")
by
the
Ambrosian
Academy
of Milan, escorts us into a new dimension of spirituality.
His
skill
in
penetrating
what
Harvard
professor
James
Russsell
calls
the
"extremely
sophisticated content and difficult language" of Nareg is particularly remarkable.
"His
work
is
more
than
a
monument
of
meticulous
scholarship,"
Russell
says.
"The
work
is
of such a high standard that it is unlikely to be equaled, much less superseded."
Naregatsi,
a
10th
Century
Armenian
poet,
mystical
philosopher,
theologian
and
saint
of
the
Armenian
church,
was
born
into
a
family
of
writers.
He
is
considered
"Armenia's
first
great
poet".
In
token
of
his
unique
achievements,
Pope
Francis
declared
him
a
Doctor
of
the
Universal Church in February last year.
"Saint
Gregory
knew
how
to
express
the
sentiments
of
your
people
more
than
anyone,"
he
said in a statement addressed to the Armenian church.
"He
gave
voice
to
the
cry,
which
became
a
prayer
of
a
sinful
and
sorrowful
humanity,
oppressed
by
the
anguish
of
its
powerlessness,
but
illuminated
by
the
splendor
of
God's
love
and
open
to
the
hope
of
his
salvific
intervention,
which
is
capable
of
transforming
all
things," the statement added.
(Commenting
on
the
Pope's
momentous
ecumenical
move,
Terian
recalls
that
"while
Armenians
were
about
to
canonize
their
martyred
saints
of
a
hundred
years
ago,
the
Papal
declaration
reminded
them
of
one
of
their
saints
who
died
a
thousand
years
ago.This
should
imply
that
identity
and
perpetuity
for
Armenians
lies
not
only
in
the
collective
remembrance
of their recent past, however tragic, but also in their centuries-old Christian heritage.")
The
significance
of
Terian's
latest
oeuvre,
a
timely
token
of
that
heritage,
cannot
be
understated.
Were
it
not
for
his
polished
and
inspired
translation,
the
anthology
of
Naregatsi's unparalleled liturgical masterpieces would have otherwise been lost to us.
As
UCLA
professor
of
Armenian
studies
S.
Peter
Cowe
notes,
Dr
Terian
"has
placed
us
in
his
debt
again
by
transmitting
these
pearls
of
mediaeval
Armenian
poetry
from
the
preserve
of
a
small
group
of
experts
into
the
public
domain
through
his
accurate
idiomatic
translation
and
helpful notes."
Theo
Maarten
van
Lint,
Calouste
Gulbenkian
professor
of
Armenian
studies
at
Oxford
University,
for
whom
Terian's
book
is
"magnificent,
groundbreaking"
goes
so
far
as
to
describe
Naregatsi's work as "an act of Divine grace."
"I go up to Jerusalem
"To that city built by God
"To
that
beautifully
built
temple
.
.
."
cries
out
Naregatsi
in
one
of
the
odes
translated
by
Terian, giving tongue to a universal yearning for the ethereal.
More
than
any
other
geographical
or
metaphorical
entity,
Jerusalem
remains
forever
the
symbol of that longing.
For
Terian,
and
all
the
Armenians
who
grew
up
in
the
Old
City,
trod
its
cobblestoned
alleys
and drank its waters, Jerusalem is more than a place in the heart.
It
is
where
life
begins,
where
humanity
is
born
and
rejuvenated,
physically
and
spiritually.
A thousand years ago, a monk in a distant monastery in the western
Armenian province of Reshdunik, picked up a reed pen and began etching
out what would later become known as the first great Armenian mystic and
liturgical poetry.