If you want a break from Santa this December, try Hagop instead, an Armenian tradition that dates back as far as Old Saint Nick.
Santa Claus, the modern icon of Christmas, is derived from traditions associated with Saint Nicholas, a fourth-century bishop of Greek descent who was known for giving gifts. He is also mentioned among the church fathers at the Council of Nicaea in AD 325, for which the Nicene Creed is named.
If Nicholas was indeed at the council, he may have met Saint Hagop, who was also reputedly there. English speakers refer to him as Jacob of Nisibis, though in the Armenian language both Jacob the biblical patriarch and the Nicene saint are called Hagop. He is believed to have been a relative of Saint Gregory the Illuminator, who converted the Armenian king to Christ in circa AD 301. As a result, Armenia became the world’s first Christian nation.
Whereas Nicholas eventually became a secular stand-in for Jesus, Hagop is intimately associated with Noah. The Armenian Apostolic Church commemorates Saint Hagop in the second week of December—not because of any connection to Christmas (which its churches celebrate on January 6), but for his reputed role in demonstrating the historicity of Noah’s ark.
Many children delighted by tales of the animals that boarded the ark later turn skeptical, questioning the reliability of this miraculous story. But doubt about the Flood is nothing new. Back in the fourth century, Hagop heard reports that the local population did not believe the biblical account of Noah. A wandering ascetic, he undertook his own search for evidence and journeyed to Mount Ararat.
According to tradition, an angel appeared to Hagop in his sleep as he rested near the mountain peak and left a wooden fragment of Noah’s vessel by his side. Today, it is preserved within a reliquary dating to 1698, lying below an ornate gold cross and housed in Armenia’s St. Etchmiadzin Cathedral.
For many Western audiences, the story of Noah recalls little more than flannelgraph cutouts from Sunday school. But for Armenians, he is a national ancestor and figure of transcendent meaning. In fact, one of Armenia’s top soccer clubs is named FC Noah, and recently played a match against the English powerhouse Chelsea FC.
CT spoke with four Armenians to understand more fully Noah’s importance to their people, whether living beneath the shadows of Mount Ararat in the Caucasus Mountains or in the extensive Armenian diaspora. Each one shared memories of childhood, perspectives on tradition, and lessons from Noah for Christian faith today.
Hrayr Jebejian
Armenian general secretary of the Bible Society of the Gulf, headquartered in Cyprus and resident in Kuwait
The story of Noah and the ark fascinated me when I was a child growing up in the Armenian Evangelical Church. The fact that the ark landed on Mount Ararat gave us a special sense of pride as Armenians, that our land is mentioned in the Bible. We are an ancient people.
As we grew older, for some the sense of wonder turned into skepticism: How did the animals march two by two, and was the Flood truly worldwide? But as Armenians, we never wondered if it was a myth or a fairy tale—it was part of the Bible. And as evangelicals, the Bible is the essence of our faith and inspired by God.
It is different with Saint Hagop. Many friends are named after him, and we give them special greetings on his ecclesial holiday. But we treat everything outside of the Bible as tradition. We respect his importance in our Armenian heritage, but we do not consider his story within our doctrinal teaching. From our youth, we learned to go straight to our heavenly Father with our prayers.
As adults, however, we see the history of our people in the story of Noah. The Armenian genocide of 1915 was a flood, but God saved us and landed us again at Mount Ararat. The first Republic of Armenia was subsumed into the Soviet Union, but we survived, and the modern republic represents us today. These floods were of a different kind and context; we do not say they came from God. But as with Noah, God gave us new life as a people.
This is true in the diaspora as well. My family lost 25 members in the genocide that killed 1.5 million Armenians overall. Thousands went to the Levant, others to the West. But we viewed Beirut as a kind of Mount Ararat. My grandparents, displaced from Turkey, found new life in Lebanon.
In fact, our history has been full of floods—ups and downs—as our lands were invaded by Persians, Byzantines, Arabs, Turks, Russians, and others. And the flood continues today, as Azerbaijan has ethnically cleansed Armenians from our ancient territory of Nagorno-Karabakh, which we call Artsakh. We do not see ourselves as righteous, as Noah is called in Scripture. Yet even in writing this contribution today, I give evidence that God—as he did with the ark—has preserved us as a people.
Paul Haidostian
President of both the Lebanon-based Haigazian University and the Union of Armenian Evangelical Churches in the Near East
I heard the story of Noah as a very young child in Sunday school, accompanied by the images of a large wooden boat and animals marching in, two by two. The lesson was that we live in a world that departs from God, who nonetheless calls us to safety as we await deliverance. The dove represented the good news of salvation.
Noah, the ark, and the Flood reflect an actual historical event. But our perspective of the scriptural narrative has evolved alongside developments in our understanding of God and humanity. We should not audit history as we do in accounting, nor can we. Yet while the Bible is not to be read as a classroom textbook of history, we should be humble enough to believe that as the Word of God, it includes concrete details of the history of human sin and God’s grace—and the story of the Flood is one illustrative aspect of that theme.
Chronicling human civilization is a subjective endeavor, and the biblical accounts of many events may be as well. As a university president and church minister, I am primarily interested in their meaning and how this connects with our Armenian self-understanding.
Mount Ararat is mentioned in the earliest documents of Armenian history. The Bible speaks of it in the plural, and our ancient ancestors lived in the regions surrounding its peaks. Its monumental presence above the fields below is a source of great strength, hope, and pride for the Armenian nation.
Noah, meanwhile, represents credibility, leadership, and obedience to God, along with the promise that God hears the prayers of the righteous. He will be on our side if we remain true to his goodness. Yet since we believe that the ark rested on a mountain that is now on the Turkish side of the border, the Noah story also recalls the loss of our land and the Armenian genocide. This is a constant reminder of continued injustice, in contrast to the promises of God for deliverance.
As evangelicals, we do not have differences with the Orthodox in these matters. Perhaps we see more lessons about the need for personal piety. But in the face of Armenian suffering over many centuries, including the ethnic cleansing of our people from Turkey and Nagorno-Karabakh, the biblical story reminds us all to respond through faithful Christian witness. And like Noah before the Flood, we patiently await the justice of the Lord.
Arthur Aghajanian
Founder of Contemplatives in Conversation and member of the Association of Scholars of Christianity in the History of Art
The significance of Noah for Armenians is rooted in the notion of sacred land; we revere Mount Ararat as a symbol of resilience and God’s favor. But as an American Armenian, I grew up disconnected from much of its biblical context, even though my family belonged to a local Armenian Apostolic church. And over the years, despite enthralling Sunday school stories and Protestant church sermons, Noah’s ark remained for me no more than a colorful episode in the grand narrative of the Old Testament, like that of David and Goliath or Jonah and the whale. Simply fantastical, the story seemed impossible to interpret literally and was therefore easy to dismiss.
It wasn’t until I began visiting my ancestral homeland and studying Armenian Christianity that the story of Noah evolved beyond a childhood tale.
Two fifth-century foundational texts, The History of Agathangelos and Movses Khorenatsi’s The History of the Armenians, present the Flood as a literal event. Yet for me, the importance of the ark lies not in its historical plausibility but in its mythic resonance. Myths convey spiritual truths and provide guidance in times of despair, along with rites and rituals that offer strength and purpose when the resources of the rational mind fall short.
The fourth-century church father Eusebius of Caesarea connected Noah to the Armenians through his great-grandson Togarmah, father of the nation’s ancient founder, Hayk. But on the mythical level, the integration of these figures into a biblical ancestry is the creative adaptation of a sacred lineage meant to distinguish Armenia from its neighbors. As a people whose history involves displacement and the struggle to survive, this gives us a profound sense of continuity and belonging.
The Apostolic Church affirms the ark’s historical reality while also embracing its mythic significance, which is not contradictory. This multidimensional lens infuses the received text with traditions that reach far beyond the literal. Noah’s journey then becomes an allegory of salvation, spiritual renewal, and rebirth after catastrophe. The Flood becomes a metaphor for purification and the ark a symbol of spiritual refuge, as even our ecclesial architecture envisages the church as a ship that embodies the journey of faith. Others have posited that the distinctive, pointed dome of the Armenian church may be a reference to Mount Ararat itself.
And why shouldn’t it be? The ark’s arrival imbued the mountain with holiness, and from that sacred foundation, Armenian churches rose. Built from the very earth touched by this divine legacy, they continue to sustain the spirit of Armenian identity today.
Christine Tanielian
Lebanon country director for the Jinishian Memorial Association, dedicated to poverty alleviation and spiritual support for the local Armenian community
Since I grew up within the Armenian Apostolic Church, the biblical story of Noah’s ark has always held profound significance for me. It is an integral part of our Christian Armenian identity, a cherished narrative passed down through generations. In our community, the story of the ark is often recounted when Mount Ararat is mentioned, for the two are inseparable in our collective consciousness.
Even though Mount Ararat now falls under the jurisdiction of Turkey, it remains a symbol of inspiration and aspiration for Armenians. The story of the ark is deeply embedded in our heritage, representing a divine privilege in hosting the vessel that carried Noah’s family. The region at the foot of the mountain, known as Nakhchivan, translates to “First Descent,” reflecting its connection to Noah’s journey. This area is now within Azerbaijan, but many hope our nation can regain sovereignty over the biblical lands within historic Armenia.
One of the major feasts of the Armenian Apostolic Church, Vardavar, celebrates this connection through the tradition of sprinkling—and sometimes drenching—each other with water. Mentioned in the book Avandapatum (The Book of Preserving Armenian Traditions), this practice was initiated by Noah after the ark’s descent for future generations to remember God’s preservation. Commemorated each July, Vardavar was later associated with the Transfiguration of Christ.
The landing of Noah’s ark on Mount Ararat takes on even greater significance when viewed in the context of other pivotal events. The Armenian church teaches that the land of Ararat, which became the cradle of humankind, was later blessed by the teachings of Christ’s disciples, Saints Thaddeus and Bartholomew. Tradition states that Thaddeus came to Armenia in AD 43, with Bartholomew arriving in AD 66. Both are reputed to have been martyred in Armenia, and monasteries were established for each, respectively in northern Iran and southeastern Turkey—which were then part of our historical kingdom.
Unlike some Christian communities that question the historicity of Noah’s ark, the Armenian church, along with its sister Oriental Orthodox denominations, upholds it as an undeniable truth, affirmed by Jesus Christ in Matthew 24. Symbolizing Noah’s unwavering faith and closeness to God, it represents the salvation of the one human family spared from the Flood—an enduring metaphor for eternal life. Just as the ark withstood the storm and bore its passengers to safety, our faith teaches that salvation comes only through Christ and our membership in the new ark—the church—which leads us from life to Life.
The post Why Armenian Christians Recall Noah’s Ark in December appeared first on Christianity Today.