Artwork by Oren Gourlay Hagopian
The words flow out powerfully in a resurgent stream, like the waters of the River
Jordan, unstoppable, evocative, seeking to stir, rouse us into an emotional or spiritual
contemplation.
Always seeking the light, soaring towards the light.
As
he
walks
along
a
dark
and
silent
street,
his
head
down,
he
is
shadowed
by
the
moon.
The
wind
blows
dispassionately, as if intent on throttling the silence.
Self-centered,
he
is
seeking
answers
from
God,
but
when
he
stumbles
against
a
beggar,
he
relents
and
asks forgiveness for his egoism and mercy for the hapless man.
Meet
the
poet,
the
Very
Reverend
Father,
Pakrad
Berjekian,
Vicar
general
of
the
Western
Diocese
of
the
Armenian Church in America, former Chairman of General Assembly of the Brotherhood of St James in Jerusalem.
A
priest
and
a
poet.
Not
a
first
-
he
is
preceded
by
such
illustrious
Armenian
greats
as
Ghevont
Alishan,
St
Nerses
the
Gracious,
Megerditch
Khrimian
("Hayrig"),
Khoren
de
Lusignan,
Sayat
Nova):
another
beacon
of
light
for
literature,
not
only
Armenian,
but
universal.
What
Berjekian
writes, finds echoes in all languages, all over the world.
There
was
a
time
when,
in
his
teens,
the
words
would
flow
from
the
end
of
a
lead
pencil,
black
on
white,
wafting
onto
a
sheet
of
lined
paper,
scratching
long
lines
of
vivid
emotion.
The
lead
pencil
is
long
gone
now,
replaced
by
the
serrated
black
rows
of
a
computer
keyboard.
No
scratching
paper.
just
a
luminescent
screen,
where
his
somber
visage
is
reflected,
a
background
censor
zealously
marking
the
outpouring of words.
He
was
only
17,
a
novice
seeking
a
life
of
spiritual
enlightenment
as
a
seminarian
in
Jerusalem,
immersed
in
the
quest
of
service
to
God
and
his
community,
when
he
felt
the first inklings of a poetic stirring in his soul.
He
remembers
his
first
bashful
attempts
at
putting
down
the
cascade
of
ideas
filling
his
mind.
He
was
fortunate
in
having
as
his
mentor
an
acclaimed
poet,
and
fellow
priest,
the
late
Patriarch,
Archbishop
Yeghishe
Derderian.
Under
his
tutelage,
Berjekian's
budding
skills
developed
and
the
young
seminarian
forged
ahead
with
his
dreams
of
capturing
the
world in rhythm and rhyme.
"Derderian
read
everything
I
wrote
and
helped
me
with
his
critique," Berjekian confides.
The
years
rolled
by
and
he
became
ordained
a
celibate
priest of the Holy See of Jerusalem.
There
never
was
any
conflict
between
the
chalice
and
the
pen.
Every
time
he
lifts
the
golden
cup
during
holy
mass,
his
eyes
brim
with
tears,
but
his
hands
are
sturdy
as
a
rock,
as
in
awestruck
reverence,
he
offers
his
prayers:
there
is
nothing
before
him
but
the
blood
and
body
of
Christ
which
he
is
consecrating.
And
when
he
sits
down
to
craft
his
poems,
there
is
no
other
thought
other
than
capturing
the
"tsunami"
of
emotions
pleading for utterance.
Berjekian's
style
is
heedless
of
quantitative
linear
considerations.
"The
important
thing
is
the
theme
and
the
imagery
and
the message.
The
beauty
is
in
the
imagery
and
its
flow
with
a
tsunami
of
emotions," he explains.
"I
do
not
look
or
explore,
feelings
and
thoughts
may
rush
through
my
mind
simply
by
observing
a
natural
scene
or
by
hearing some heart touching music," he explains.
"Personal
injustices
or
malicious
acts,
or
any
kind
of
happy
moments may have an impact on my urge to write," he adds.
"Feelings
create
images
in
me
which
come
out
in
words
imagined
in
my
own
way.
For
example,
I
watch
the
rain,
and
often
see
in
the
rain
the
image of a harp played by divine hands resulting in a heavenly music."
Writing
under
the
pen
name
Pakradouni,
derived
from
an
ancient
Armenian
hereditary
nobility,
he
has
produced
three
books
so
far
with
such
catching titles as: "Looysn Ooshatzadz" [The Light is Late],"Hokiyi Hamerk" [Concert of the Soul], and "Hooysi Navag" [The Boat of Hope].
It
is
a
universal
truth
that
the
life
of
a
priest
is
one
of
personal
penance
and
sacrifice,
embedded
in
pledges
of
obedience,
poverty
and
celibacy, in a world where temptation beckons us at every step.
Berjekian
knows
that
abandoning
and
renouncing
the
world
and
all
its
riches
in
favor
of
serving
God
and
man,
demands
a
lifelong
commitment, bolstered by an indomitable will and an indefatigable zeal.
No
stranger
to
hard
work
and
dedication,
he
had
been
tasked
with
the
oversight
and
protection
of
the
Armenian
Patriarchate's
real
estates
in
Jerusalem,
and
when
he
was
sent
to
the
US,
he
was
assigned
Vicar
of
the
Western
Diocese
and
supervisor
of
all
Saturday
schools
functioning
under its authority.
[The
Jerusalem
Patriarchate
is
the
second
most
important
source
of
spiritual
rejuvenation
for
all
Armenians
after
the
Mother
Church
at
Etchmiadzin,
Armenia.
One
of
its
fundamental
tasks
is
the
training
of
priests
at
its
theological
seminary:
Armenian
churches
around
the
world
rely upon Jerusalem to replenish the ranks of their clergy when they run down].
Berjekian had chosen a career that is relentlessly difficult and demanding, but at the same time, immeasurably rewarding.
Wrapped
in
a
world
of
spirituality,
and
a
heavy
cloak
to
ward
off
the
merciless
weather,
he
would
walk
the
streets
of
the
Old
City
of
Jerusalem
on
cold
winter
nights,
to
assume
his
duties
as
a
celebrant
in
the
Cathedral
of
the
Holy
Sepulchre,
his
heart
bursting
with
a
concatenation of thoughts, feelings and emotions.
The midnight trek is part of the trauma and torment that is the lot of an Armenian priest.
But for Berjekian, it is also a precious period of quiet reflection, and there is a smile on his face as he plods on.
For he knows how to turn pain into song, as he says in his "Orchestra of the Soul".
"My wound that festered of eve
"Is transmuted into song today."
(Jan 1, 2017)