The Sunday of the Judge: Accountability and the Fear of God

[The Armenian portion of the sermon is not intelligible in the supplied ASR transcript.]

Fr. Grigor Grigoryan is the parish priest of St. Zoravor Armenian Apostolic Church in Yerevan. We are closely affiliated with his mission, known as the Arev Children’s Center, and we wanted him to share with members of our community about the work he is doing.

He has an amazing program that is working at the forefront of what I would call the human rights of children with Down syndrome in Armenia today: breaking stereotypes, raising public awareness about the value of these children’s lives, and creating programs that make a difference for them and their families. The center gives them the education they deserve and opportunities to live independently—opportunities of which, until now, so many children like them have been deprived.

Der Grigor himself has a seven-year-old child with Down syndrome named Monte, who became the driving force behind his work. When they were expecting their child, a doctor advised them to abort him because he had been diagnosed with Down syndrome in the womb, as so many other families have been advised to do and, unfortunately, have done. At that moment, Der Grigor felt called to work on behalf of these children. Through the empathy that comes from such a situation, he knew what it meant to be told that your child was not worth living and not worth being born.

He has worked hard, serving not only as the parish priest of one of the largest parishes in central Yerevan, but also establishing a nonprofit organization, building a center, bringing in experts, training people, and serving as many children with Down syndrome and their families as he can.

During his presentation, he shared something that moved me. Someone once said to him, “As a priest, Father Grigor, couldn’t you go to the Vehapar and say, ‘My child isn’t receiving the care he needs in Armenia. We don’t have those resources here. Could you assign me to Russia, where I served previously, or somewhere in Europe or another place with more progressive care for children with Down syndrome, so that my family would not be exposed to such hardship?’”

Certainly, the Vehapar would be empathetic to that situation. Similar circumstances have arisen in which priests were assigned internationally so that they or their family members could receive necessary care. It was not a strange suggestion: Why not ask the Vehapar to do this?

Der Grigor said in Armenian, “There is only one response I have to that question: Astutsme vakhnam—I have a fear of God.”

What does the fear of God have to do with it? He deeply believes that he was given this child, Monte, so that he could understand the struggles of families raising children with Down syndrome in Armenia today, work on their behalf, serve as their advocate, and fulfill the responsibility God had given him. If he had chosen a route that was easier, or perhaps even more beneficial for his own child, he would have abandoned the responsibility entrusted to him. Because he has a fear of God, he understands that this responsibility was given to him by God and that one day he will be held accountable for it.

All of us have been given deeply personal missions and responsibilities for which we are accountable. We do not answer merely to one another or even only to the person we see in the mirror. At the end of the day, we must answer to God for what we have done with that which was entrusted to us.

This life is absolutely not easy, and sometimes we are forced to make difficult choices—choices that do not result in an easier life for us or for the people around us. In the end, however, we are accountable for those choices.

Today, in the great chain of Lenten Sundays, is the Sunday of the Judge. We are told the story of a particular judge who was famous for being unjust. He could easily be bought off and would decide a case in whatever way was favorable to him. Justice had nothing to do with his decisions.

As I shared in my Armenian message, some people would feel very comfortable before such a judge because they could leverage whatever resources they possessed to ensure that the decision benefited them. Other people—those who had justice on their side but lacked resources—would be very fearful before a judge like that.

The Judge before whom we will stand is the ultimate standard of justice. Justice is defined by him. That which is just is God, and God is just. There is certainly no escaping justice before God. For some, that is frightening, because we know that, no matter how we try to manipulate the situation, in the end he will make the right decision.

In the requiem prayers of the Armenian Church, in the prayer known as “Jesus Christ, Son of God, forbearing and compassionate,” we proclaim that he is the Judge of the living and the dead. Every person who has ever existed or will ever exist shall stand before him and give an account of his or her life.

St. Paul reminds us in 2 Timothy 2 to be ready to stand before God as a prepared worker. A worker, in this case, means someone skillful and accomplished in that which has been entrusted to him—someone prepared, trustworthy, and reliable.

We must ask ourselves whether we are treating the time entrusted to us as people who have been given a responsibility and are expected to master it. Are we becoming reliable and trustworthy servants who know that they will one day be accountable to their Master? Are we mastering this vocation entrusted to us, known as Christianity?

In this life, every moment we are alive is an opportunity to reflect upon our past behavior and prepare our future behavior, knowing that at any moment we may be required to account for it.

It is famously written in the Psalms and Proverbs—and it was the first line translated into Armenian—that the beginning of wisdom is the fear of God. As soon as we understand that we will be held accountable for everything we do, we begin to make wise choices. Fear here is not a frightfulness from which we must run away. It is a deep and abiding knowledge that we must respect the one who ultimately has control over our fate.

Scientists estimate that approximately 110 billion people have lived throughout human history. Roughly seven percent of all the people who have ever lived are alive at this moment. On the Day of Judgment, all of these people—and perhaps more, for we do not know when that day will come—must stand before God, before Jesus Christ, and give an account of their lives. They will not have time to construct a defense or make excuses.

Christ, thanks be to God, is the compassionate and loving Judge. He understands our faults, misgivings, mistakes, and the circumstances in which they were made. He is the merciful Judge, but he is also the just Judge. He will not overlook those moments we believe should be overlooked simply because we were unwilling to take responsibility for them.

Therefore, though I know this is a heavy message, at this point in our Lenten journey let us take it to heart. Let us redouble our willingness to be accountable for our actions and choices, knowing full well that our destination and goal as Christians is to arrive at the safe harbor of the heavenly kingdom, where we will bask in the glory of the all-holy Trinity. Amen.