How Armenia “Invented” Christendom
By Steven Gertz

Christian History, Winter 2005
03/12/05

Turning Point

Only a week prior to his attack on Poland in September, 1939, Adolf
Hitler reportedly delivered a secret talk to members of his General
Staff, urging them to wipe out the Polish race. “After all,” he argued,
“who remembers today the extermination of the Armenians?”

Hitler was referring to the genocide of nearly 1.5 million Armenian
Christians at the hands of Ottoman Turks from 1915 to 1923 in what
is now eastern Turkey. Turkish authorities deny the atrocities ever
took place, but the story of bloodbath in Armenia is one of the
well-documented tragedies of our time.

Still, it’s unfortunate that Armenia (today located directly east of
Turkey and west of the Caspian Sea) is now known for this story above
any other. It says nothing about the people of Armenia, or the part
they have played in global Christianity. For contribute they did,
in a manner that might surprise even a seasoned church historian.

Tortured for Christ

No man has more stature in the Armenian church today than Gregory the
Illuminator. While not the first to bring Christianity to Armenia,
Gregory is, at least in the minds of Armenians, the nation’s spiritual
father and the people’s patron saint.

Born into a wealthy family around 257, Gregory nevertheless had a
rough beginning-his biographer, Agathangelos, tells us Gregory’s
father murdered the Armenian king and paid for it with his life. But
the boy was rescued from the chaos following the murder, and his
new guardians raised him as a Christian in Cappadocia (east-central
Turkey). There, according to Agathangelos, Gregory “became acquainted
with the Scriptures of God, and drew near to the fear of the Lord.”

When Gregory’s tutors told him of his father’s wickedness, Gregory
approached the murdered king’s son, Tiridates, to offer his service
(all the while concealing his identity). Tiridates accepted Gregory’s
offer, but when Gregory refused to worship Anahit, an idol the king had
raised in gratitude for military successes, Tiridates became furious:
“You have come and joined us as a stranger and foreigner. How then
are you able to worship that God whom I do not worship?”

Tiridates tortured Gregory, hanging him upside-down and flogging him,
then fastening blocks of wood to his legs and tightening them. When
these tactics failed, he tried even more gruesome measures. Still the
saint refused to bow the knee. Tiridates then learned that Gregory was
the son of his father’s murderer, and he ordered that the missionary
be thrown into a “bottommost pit” filled with dead bodies and other
filth. There Gregory sat for 13 years, surviving only on bread a widow
threw down each day after receiving instruction to do so in a dream.

Converting the King

At about this time a beautiful woman named Rhipsime arrived in Armenia,
fleeing an enforced marriage to the Roman emperor Diocletian. Tiridates
took a liking to her too, and took her forcibly when she refused to
come to him. But “strengthened by the Holy Spirit,” she fought off
his advances and escaped. Furious, Tiridates ordered her execution,
and that night Rhipsime burned at the stake. Her abbess Gaiane soon
followed her in death, along with 35 other companions.

The king, still lusting after Rhipsime, mourned her death for six
days, then prepared to go hunting. But God visited on him a horrible
punishment-Agathangelos calls it demon possession-reducing him to
insanity and throwing his court into chaos. Tiridates’ sister had a
vision to send for Gregory, imprisoned so long ago. People laughed
at the idea Gregory might still be alive, but recurrent visions
finally convinced a nobleman, Awtay, to visit his pit. Astonished
to find the missionary living, Awtay brought him to meet the king,
who was feeding with swine outside the city. Tiridates, along with
other possessed members of his court, rushed at Gregory. But Gregory
“immediately knelt in prayer, and they returned to sobriety.” Tiridates
then pleaded for Gregory’s forgiveness, and the king and his whole
court repented of their sin and confessed faith in Christ.

Assessing Gregory’s Legacy

Scholars disagree over how much Agathangelos’s history can be taken
at face-value. After all, he wrote his book in 460 (Tiridates is
believed by Armenians to have converted in 301), and much of his
story has elements of hagiography that lead one to wonder whether the
events ever happened. But even skeptics acknowledge that Gregory was a
real person with considerable ecclesiastical influence in Armenia-the
signature of his son and successor Aristakes can be found among those
ratifying the Council of Nicaea in 325. And even if we can document
little about the man, his pre-eminence among Armenia’s heroes of the
faith is unassailable.

Why? First, Gregory persuaded the king to build a string of churches
across Armenia, beginning with Holy Etchmiadzin- according to some
scholars the oldest cathedral site in the world and an important
pilgrimage site for all Armenians. The seat of the Armenian church
would pass to other cities, but Gregory “established” Christianity
in Armenia via this church.

Gregory also introduced Christian liturgy to Armenia. These rites
consisted of psalmody, scriptural readings, and prayers recited in
Greek or Syriac. After Mesrop Mashtots invented an Armenian alphabet
at the beginning of the fifth century, both the Bible and the liturgy
were translated into the Armenian language.

Most importantly, Gregory set in motion the mass conversion of Armenia
to Christianity. According to Agathangelos, the king ordered all pagan
shrines to be torn down, and Gregory proceeded to baptize more than
190,000 people into the new faith. Whether the nation converted as
quickly as Agathangelos implies is difficult to discern. Certainly
by the fifth century, Armenia was well on its way to becoming a
“Christian” nation.

Armenia is an ancient-if not the oldest-model for what we now call
Christendom. Church historian Kenneth Scott Latourette notes that
the Armenian church “was an instance of what was to be seen again
and again, a group adoption of the Christian faith engineered by the
accepted leaders and issuing in an ecclesiastical structure which
became identified with a particular people, state, or nation.”

Certainly the Roman Empire is a prime example of this, but Armenia
is at least as old, and perhaps a more impressive example given the
invasions and persecution it endured at the hands of the Turks (and
before them, Arabs and Persians). Indeed even Byzantium attempted to
bring Armenia within its orbit, but the nation resisted, arguing that
its apostolic origins were on par with Rome.

So lest you assume Rome is our first example of Christendom, think
again. Long may Armenia’s church endure.