Back in 2017, when I was new to New York, I was driving to Brooklyn one afternoon and was about to enter the Brooklyn Tunnel. You know how sometimes they open the opposite side to ease traffic? The cones had been moved. The entrance looked open. It seemed convenient. So I started to drive in. But something didn’t feel right. It was too quiet. No cars. No movement. I slowed down. And then I heard a traffic controller shouting behind me, “Stop! Stop! Turn around! Come back!” I

Today I was on a flight to Vienna. Everything was smooth and peaceful, until suddenly it wasn’t. The plane hit turbulence. The aircraft began to shake. You could feel it in your seat. You could sense it in the cabin. People stopped talking. Some held their armrests a little tighter. Whenever that happens, the same thoughts pass through everyone’s mind: “Is everything okay? Are we safe?” What stayed with me was this: the pilot did not come over the speaker, sounding anxious. H

Love is what makes Lent from being a routine and turns it into a living encounter. Without love, Lent becomes a checklist, things we have to do, rules we have to follow. But when love is at the center, Lent becomes a journey of the heart.   Tomorrow we’ll step into the holy season of Great Lent, where we are called to increased Prayer, fasting, and generosity. They are not obligations forced upon us. They are pathways where love grows, deepens, and finds expression in our eve

Some of the most powerful moments in life happen while nothing seems to be happening. We live in a world that wants instant answers and quick results, but God often works in seasons of waiting. Waiting stretches our faith, deepens our trust, and teaches our hearts how to hope. Today, we celebrate the Feast of the Presentation of our Lord, the moment when the forty-day-old baby Jesus was brought to the temple by His mother, Mary, and Joseph. They came to fulfill the law, to of

In downtown Fort Lauderdale, there is a sculpture called “Thrive.” It’s impossible to miss. A towering female figure stands before you, split open, cracked, incomplete. She looks broken. Wounded. As if something has gone wrong. But when you look closer, inside the open space of her chest, there’s life, greenery, light, hope. What appears broken on the outside is the very place where life is flourishing. St. Paul says something very similar in his second letter to the Corinthi

Today, as we remember St. Leon (Ghevont) the priest and his companions, we recall their great faith and sacrifice, which shaped our history and kept the Armenian spirit alive through the centuries. On the eve of the Battle of Avarayr, St. Ghevont showed what true spiritual leadership looks like. He celebrated the Divine Liturgy, gave Holy Communion, and baptized those who had not yet been received into the Church. Then he gathered the people and delivered a powerful sermon. H

Have you ever held a glow stick? You can shake it. You can wave it around. You can admire its color. But no matter how much you move it, it won’t shine in the dark until you do one thing. You have to break it. Inside that glow stick are chemicals, separated from one another. They’re full of potential, but nothing happens until there’s a snap. When it breaks, what was hidden inside is released, and suddenly, in the darkness, it begins to glow. I believe that’s a picture of wha

There is something beautiful about light. When one candle lights another, nothing is lost. The flame does not weaken, the light does not diminish, and the warmth does not fade. Instead, the room becomes brighter. What once held shadows now begins to glow. Light multiplies simply by being shared. That’s how God designed your life to work. When you give love, you don’t lose love. When you offer kindness, encouragement, or hope, you don’t run out, you step into abundance. The mo

We all have moments in life when we feel a little cracked, a little worn, a little less than whole. Maybe life didn’t go the way you planned. Maybe someone hurt you, you made mistakes, you faced losses, disappointments, detours. The enemy wants you to believe that once you’re broken, you’re finished. That you’ve lost your value. That you’ll never shine again. But God doesn’t retire people because they’re broken; He redeems them. He doesn’t throw you away; He writes His master

Have you ever carried a backpack that slowly became heavier without you noticing? At first, it feels manageable. You keep walking, shifting it on your shoulders. But over time the weight presses down. Your steps slow. Your back tightens. Your breath shortens. What once felt light now feels unbearable, not because the backpack suddenly changed, but because you’ve been carrying it for too long. That’s how anxiety often works in our lives. It doesn’t arrive all at once. It build

Now that we are back in the United States, many have asked me what the pilgrimage to Jerusalem was like. I tell them it was a great joy to lead a beautiful group of people of deep faith and prayer, and to see them walk, pray, and support one another was truly moving. Their faith strengthened one another, and it strengthened me as well. As we walked through the Holy Land, one truth kept returning to my heart: from the very beginning of Scripture, faith is described as a walk.

At the St. Gregory the Illuminator Armenian Chapel, Church of the Holy Sepulchre, Jerusalem When you walk into the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem and walk down to the St. Gregory the Illuminator Armenian Chapel, you will notice hundreds of tiny carved crosses etched into the walls. They are called Pilgrim’s Crosses. Each cross was carved by a pilgrim who came from far away. Some walked for months. Some sold what they had. Some took risks we can hardly imagine. They came to stand

At the Jordan River, where Jesus was baptized, His public ministry began. Yesterday we visited the Jordan River, where the Lord Jesus was baptized and where His public ministry began. There, we celebrated the Armenian Blessing of the Water Service and sang the ancient hymn Ov Zarmanali (“O Wondrous Mystery”), which gently places these words on the lips of our Lord: “River, do not be afraid. It is I, your Creator. I have come to be baptized and to wash away sins.” Picture that

At the 12th-century Armenian Cathedral of St. James, in the Armenian Quarter of Jerusalem When you walk through Jerusalem, you quickly realize this is a city layered with prayer, sacrifice, and hope. Every stone has a story. Every street carries memory. And in the heart of this ancient city, among great powers and ancient empires, stands a small nation with a big faith, the Armenian people. From the early fourth century, when Christianity became the faith of the Armenian stat

In Jericho, one of the oldest cities in the world Yesterday we visited the ancient city of Jericho. In the Old Testament, when the people of God were traveling through the wilderness toward the Promised Land, Jericho stood in their way. It was the final obstacle before entering the land God had promised them. Jericho’s walls were massive, so wide that chariots could ride on top of them. Humanly speaking, there was no way through. Yet God gave Joshua a surprising instruction.

At the Pool of Bethesda in Jerusalem, where Jesus healed the paralytic When Jesus met people who were hurting, He often asked a surprising question: “Do you want to be made well?” At first, the question seems unnecessary. Of course, they wanted to be healed. Why else would they be there? In the Classical Armenian text, the word used is “ողջ-voghtch,” which means whole, complete, lacking nothing. Jesus was not only asking about relief from pain or the removal of symptoms. He w

Yesterday we visited the Upper Room. It is a simple room, quiet and unassuming, yet it holds some of the most powerful moments in all of Scripture. In that room, Jesus reveals the very heart of God. This is where He gathered His disciples, washed their feet, and gave them the gift of Holy Communion. Jesus took the bread in His hands. He blessed it. He broke it. And He said, “This is My body, given for you.” Then He took the cup and said, “This is My blood, poured out for you.

In life, we all have a moment when the weight becomes too much. Moments when the weight of life feels heavier than what we can carry. Responsibilities, pressures, disappointments, burdens we didn’t choose. We try to push through, we try to stay strong, but the truth is: even the strongest people get tired. Today, as we walked the Via Dolorosa in Jerusalem, following the path our Lord Jesus Christ took while carrying the cross, this truth became deeply real. Along that road, e

Today, we walked through the Garden of Gethsemane, and the first thing that caught our attention here was the olive trees. Some of these trees have stood for centuries, dating back even to the time of Jesus. These trees have endured storms, heat, cold, and pressure, yet they still stand. Olives have something remarkable about them: they give their oil only when they are pressed. The pressure draws out what is most precious. Without pressure, there is no oil. And it is no coin

Today, we took a boat across the Sea of Galilee. As we moved over those waters, it was easy to picture that unforgettable moment when Jesus calmed the storm on this very lake. The disciples had set out with calm skies and steady waters. Everything felt manageable until it didn’t. The wind rose, the waves crashed, and water began to fill the boat. Storms still come like that. Unannounced. Unscheduled. One moment, life feels steady, and the next you’re facing winds you didn’t s