They had to make sure He was dead. That’s why the Roman centurion Longinus was called upon to raise his spear and pierce the side of Jesus as He hung on the cross on the night of His crucifixion, so the Bible says. It immediately drew blood and water, according to John. We are told how Jesus was entombed—and rose again on His journey to Heaven—yet that spear went on a different journey.
Legend holds that hundreds of miles north of that hill in Jerusalem, east of the Black Sea, there was a sacred spring in a cave. It was worshipped in pagan times, but even as Christendom spread across that region, Armenia, the old tradition persisted. As centuries passed, the cave became a monastery known as Airivank—literally “cave monastery” in Armenian—around the beginning of the 4th century.
Modern sources tell how nothing remains of Airivank today. Yet a cluster of stone monastic churches stands there instead, built as early as the 11th century. Now these ornate structures, partially hewn from the living cliff, rest in a scenic valley along the Azat River in the Geghama Mountains, 45 minutes east of Armenia’s capital, Yerevan. Some are freestanding stone structures. Some are partially-embedded. Others are completely carved chambers within the mountain. The workmanship and visual impact are arresting.
The cluster of churches rests at the very end of a long road up the river valley. Today, the place is known as Geghard—or “Geghardavank” which, in Armenian, means “Monastery of the Spear.”
The Apostle Jude allegedly brought the spear that pierced Jesus to this sacred northerly spot. Considered a relic, it is now displayed at the Treasure of Etchmiadzin Museum in Armenia.
With towering cliffs, rich history, and exquisite architecture, Geghard is now a place where tourists flock to explore and have adventures. Traveling up the trail, one is met by lines of women selling sweetbreads, delicious walnut strings drenched in grape molasses (a dessert called sujukh), and snacks of flattened, dried fruit sheets (called lavash). One hears the sounds of instruments as musicians play for pocket change.
With thick stone walls and towers surrounding three sides of the south-facing monastery, a cylindrical stone drum—or cupola—with a conical roof rises from the center, dominating the scenery. A steep cliff backs Geghard’s open north side. Entering through the wall’s arched west gate, one is faced with a squarish, stout, and rather sturdy-looking building in the cluster. This is not the church with the pointy tower but is connected to its westerly side.
Oddly akin to a school gymnasium, this is a gavit—a gathering place traditionally built on the western sides of certain old churches from the 10th and 11th centuries. Built from 1215 to 1225, this stout gavit is more impressive inside: Four massive, freestanding stone columns dominate the center. They support a stone roof with a central hole to admit light. It was here that pilgrims were once received—perhaps on a journey to see the spear that pierced their Savior. Today, it’s lit with candles as visitors marvel on.
The masonry is stunning. The western portal where one enters from outside exhibits an arched tympanum finely decorated with floral carvings. The central ceiling hole is crowned by a dome, and structural stalactites descend onto the four columns. This dome ceiling style with a sunroof is repeated throughout the cluster and is markedly Armenian.
About the same time the gavit was built, the main church—the one with the cone roof—the Katoghike Chapel, was raised in 1215. It was put up by the brothers Zakare and Ivane alongside the generals of Queen Tamar of Georgia, who won back much of Armenia from the Turks. In an earlier form, this monastery once suffered greatly under the Arabian caliph, as it was plundered and desecrated in the 10th century.
The Katoghike Chapel features a highly adorned tympanum depicting pomegranate trees. Outside, there are carvings of doves and a lion attacking an ox, believed to symbolize the power of the prince then reigning. Throughout this church are also exquisitely carved birds, rosettes, and animal heads. Inside, sunlight is admitted through windows overhead, set within the round cupola. A simple stone dome on top serves as a ceiling. With an equal-armed cruciform (cross-shaped) plan, half-pillars line the chamber. An apse with an altar lies eastward, a door into the gavit lies westward, and a tunnel northward beckons visitors into the belly of the mountain.
Both buildings, the main chapel and gavit, are mostly freestanding, their backs partially set into the cliff.
But, perhaps the most impressive parts of the monastery go unseen, fully embedded within the cliff. There are multiple smaller churches with similar domed styles dug fully underground, showing that Armenian craftsmen could not only create superb works of architecture but also hew them into solid rock.
The first of the hewn churches, completed in the mid-13th century, has a cupola ceiling visible only from inside. Marvelous carvings cover centuries-old stone surfaces. Linked to this church from the south is a passage leading to the gavit’s north side. Like many other small rooms at Geghard, this hewn church has no freestanding columns; the walls are simply lined with half-columns or pilasters. In the various vaults and chapels of Geghard are seen cross-winged domes and annexes, apses with altars, and ornate carvings on arch-works.
As explorers delve in, they'll see how time has taken a toll. Earthquakes have ravaged parts, while the structure shows cracks, rubble, or even collapse in places. Yet many carvings with rich history survive.
Of interest, a small burial vault displays the carved head of a lion with a chain in its jaws that winds about the necks of two more lions facing the onlooker. Their tails show pagan symbolism—appearing as dragons instead of tail tuffs. Below them, an eagle with wings half-spread clasps a lamb in its talons. This, presumably, was the coat-of-arms of the Princess Proshian, who bought the monastery in the second half of the 13th century.
However, the largest carved church isn’t joined with the rest of Geghard. A stone’s throw north of the gavit, fully enclosed by the cliff, a burial vault called the Upper Jhamatun, built in 1288, contains the tombs of the Princes Merik and Grigor. Although less ostentatious than the rest, the chill-inducing acoustics of this voluminous room, with its four carved central pillars and eight surrounding half-pillars, are surreal. It’s said that a song from a lone monk here resounds like a choir.
Taking leave from here, one breathes in the fresh outside air again. From on high, one starts back down the stairway hewn from living rock that winds down to the rest of the cluster.
On the descent, visitors may turn to the mountain, gaze up, and see numerous stone tablets with crucifixes lining the cliff. Set within the rock face, these are memorial stelles—meticulously-carved objects of worship called khachkars. Some are so intricately detailed, one can hardly imagine any two being the same. Khachkar carving has long been an Armenian tradition, with over 50,000 documented. They’re seen all over Geghard.
For some, gazing on these soulful expressions of devotion might invoke the night the Savior, Jesus, left this Earthly realm for eternity.
