Vochinch And The Table Of Grace

1 Corinthians 11:23–26

> “For I received from the Lord what I also passed on to you: The Lord Jesus, on the night he was betrayed, took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, ‘This is my body, which is for you; do this in remembrance of me.’ In the same way, after supper he took the cup, saying, ‘This cup is the new covenant in my blood; do this, whenever you drink it, in remembrance of me.’ For whenever you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.”

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Ooghi… and iighoo

Whenever I traveled through Armenia, I noticed something that still makes me smile.

No matter where you are — city, village, or mountain road — if you stop and ask anyone for directions, you’ll get the same confident answer.

Someone will wave down the road and say, “Ooghi! Ooghi!”

Straight ahead!

Even when the road twists like a snake up the mountain, it’s still Ooghi!

After a while, I realized I never learned how to go backward.

So I made up my own Armenian word — “Iighoo.”

My driver, Ashot, thought that was hilarious.

Every time we missed a turn, he’d laugh and shout, “Iighoo, Ahkper! Iighoo!”

It became a running joke.

But it also taught me something.

In life, there aren’t many Iighoos.

We don’t get to go back.

We can only go Ooghi — forward.

And that’s what this Table is about.

When we come to Communion, we don’t come to undo the past — we come to go forward in grace.

We come to remember what Christ has done and to renew our direction.

Jesus says, “Come. Ooghi. Come straight to Me.”

•••

Vochinch – The Word That Endures

There’s another Armenian word I’ve come to love — Vochinch.

It sounds small, but it carries centuries of strength.

It means “It’s nothing. It’s alright.”

If a glass breaks — Vochinch.

If the bread burns — Vochinch.

If you lose something you can’t replace — still, Vochinch.

It doesn’t mean people don’t feel pain.

It means they’ve learned that pain isn’t the final word.

It’s not apathy — it’s faith.

It’s a whisper that says, “God knows. God will bring good out of this.”

•••

I remember an older Armenian woman handing me a cracked cup of coffee.

She saw me hesitate and smiled.

“Drink,” she said, “Vochinch — it still holds.”

And she was right. It still held.

That cracked cup became a picture in my mind of faith itself.

Our lives are like that — cracked but still held together by grace.

We leak a little, we wobble a little, but we still hold.

Because God holds us.

At this Table we celebrate that truth.

Christ took what was broken and made it a blessing.

He took the cup of suffering and turned it into the cup of salvation.

The Table says to every heart cracked by life,

Vochinch. It still holds. God still holds you.

•••

The Table That Tells the Story

When Jesus gathered His disciples for that last supper, He knew what was coming.

Betrayal, denial, fear — the darkest night of their lives.

And yet, He took the bread, gave thanks, and broke it.

“This is My body, broken for you.”

He didn’t say “destroyed.”

He said “broken.”

Because broken things can still feed. Broken things can still bless.

He took the cup and said, “This is My blood, poured out for you.”

He didn’t pour it out in waste — He poured it out in love.

That’s what we remember here:

Broken, but blessed.

Poured out, but purposeful.

•••

Paul said, “Whenever you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until He comes.”

This Table points both backward and forward —

Back to the cross, where sin was forgiven.

Forward to the Kingdom, where every tear will be wiped away.

The Lord’s Supper is our Ooghi — our forward motion between those two points.

•••

The Waiting Between Cups

Jesus once said,

> “I will not drink again from the fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new with you in My Father’s kingdom.”

There’s a pause between those two cups — the cup of the cross and the cup of the Kingdom.

That’s where we live — between the already and the not yet, between suffering and glory.

We live in the long pause — and that’s where Vochinch becomes real.

When prayers seem unanswered and hope feels delayed, faith whispers,

“It’s alright. God knows. He’s not finished yet.”

At this Table, we learn to wait.

We taste the promise and trust the timing.

We say, “Lord, Your will, Your pace, Your plan — Ooghi, we follow You.”