A candle burns on this Armenian altar

Today was the 50th Anniversary of the failed Tibetan uprising against Chinese rule.

Tibetans and their supporters throughout the world held protests and prayer vigils to mark the half-century point of living in exile- His Holiness the Dalai Lama being the most notable of the exile group.

As an Armenian Church, we lit a small candle on our altar as a reminder of our vigilance against injustice. We relate to a people living outside their country. The Armenian diaspora is a state created because of the occupation of our sacred and ancestral lands. Five decades or five centuries, its a question of staying strong, committed and ever-vigilant to the cause.

The plight of the Tibetans is one I understand all too well.

Rallies were held in cities in North America, Europe and Asia today. According to a VOA report, (http://www.voanews.com/english/2009-03-10-voa56.cfm) "Several lawmakers joined a march to the Chinese embassy in Australia's capital, Canberra, to demand more freedom for Tibet. Police arrested four people who broke through fencing around a designated protest site.

Buddhist monks in Japan prayed for peace in Tibet, while Czech Environment MinisterMartin Bursik hoisted a Tibetan flag outside his office. The Czech Republic holds the rotating presidency of the European Union.

In Washington, State Department spokesman Robert Wood repeated the U.S. government's callfor a substantive dialogue between the Chinese government and representatives of exiled Tibetan spiritual leader, the Dalai Lama.

...
Actor Richard Gere, a supporter of Tibet hugs House Speaker Nancy Pelosi at the International Campaign for Tibet reception on Capitol Hill, 09 Mar 2009 On Monday, U.S. House Speaker Nancy Pelosi told lawmakers gathered for a commemoration of the uprising that the human rights situation in Tibet deteriorated over the past year.

China's foreign ministry urged U.S. lawmakers Tuesday not to pass the resolution, saying it opposes any country interfering in its internal affairs.

In Nepal, hundreds of Tibetans held a mass prayer at a monastery near the capital, Kathmandu. Some shouted pro-Tibet slogans and scuffled with Nepalese police who were deployed at the site to prevent anti-China protests.

Taiwan's main opposition party organized a pro-Tibet rally in the southern city of Kaohsiung, where it controls the local government. Pro-Tibet activists also held a candlelight vigil in Taiwan's capital, Taipei, in memory of Tibetans killed by Chinese security forces."

It is refreshing to see the world come together to rally against and protest injustice. It is remarkable that Pelosi is seen here as an advocate for Tibetan rights when she so easily reneged last year on her promises concerning Armenian Genocide recognition. She's a reminder for me that in the end its all politics.

Still, for me, a grandson of Genocide survivors, having to explain to my children that the vast majority of our lands are occupied, and that truth is merely a bargaining chip for politicians en route to their material security, I find comfort in lighting this small candle and standing in solidarity with the Tibetans on this day. Fifty years is just a small bit of time and yet a life-time.

I pray for the Dalai Lama, and I know that the plight of the suffering are always in his prayers.

"Happiness is not something ready made. It comes from your own actions." - Dalai Lama

Half Life along side a Full Life

“The half-life of a quantity whose value decreases with time is the interval required for the quantity to decay to half of its initial value. The concept originated in describing how long it takes atoms to undergo radioactive decay, but also applies in a wide variety of other situations.” (Wikipedia, 09/26/08)

Today is my half-life. I’ve spent exactly half of my life as a priest.

My mother has a friend who calls me by my baptismal name, Hovsep, because she claims that’s how she’s known me. Of course, this is an excuse to offer her some skewed sense of personal validation, as someone who knew me “when…”. But as of today, the excuse doesn’t hold much water; I have lived an equal number of days as Vazken and as Hovsep. Tomorrow the scale tips the other way.


People struggle with identity issues all their life. Early on, I would have probably said I struggled between two identities but now I understand them to be the same. A priest’s name-change only marks the pre- and post-ordination periods of his life, but his identity as a priest has been established before his ordination, as we believe his calling predates his taking vows.


I was named after the great patriarch of the Armenian people, Vazken I (Catholicos from 1955-1995). I was honored that my ordaining bishop, Archbishop Vatché Hovsepian, named me after the venerable Catholicos. Vazken I was consecrated as the chief shepherd of the Armenian Church, almost three decades earlier, on that (this) same day. (It also happens to be Gomidas Vartabed's (Soghomon Soghomonian's) birthday.)


A couple of weeks ago, a communiqué came to us from the Diocese, instructing a special Hokehankist (Requiem Service) to be conducted on Sunday, September 21, for the late Pontiff, Vazken I. They were marking the 100th anniversary of his birth. Here we go again… I thought. Like, don’t we as the Armenian Church – the LIVING CHURCH of JESUS CHRIST – have ANY OTHER service beside requiem services? Like, isn’t it possible to celebrate instead of mourn? And, to add insult to injury (my mental injury, that is), the day of the requiem was September 21 – Armenian Independence Day! Just 17 years earlier, Armenia, after being locked and squelched by the Soviet communist state for 70 years, proclaimed its independence. Was it asking much to come up with another way of celebrating this man’s life, especially on a joyous day as Independence Day? I know, I know, it’s Einstein’s other theory: “Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, expecting different results.” It is the same old regime, why am I expecting anything different?


So I’d like to offer some thought on the life of His Holiness Vazken I. As someone who is honored to have received his name, as someone who was certainly touched on several occasions by the presence and soul of this giant among men, I peered at his life from a unique vantage point. Here I am 26 years now, with the name of this man, who really shaped me, and gave me the opportunity to serve our Church.


For us, growing up in America, Vazken I, was an icon. He was bigger than life. Long before simulated worlds dominated electronically enhanced imaginations, there was the concept of a “virtual Armenia.” In the 1950’s, 60’s and 70’s, Armenia was only experienced virtually. My grandmother visited her sisters in Armenia in 1960 and 1967. I remember when she went it was as if she had gone to the North Pole. It was somewhere in our imaginations – there were no travel guides and books. Magazines from Armenia used a very primitive screening process on their pictures making the images very difficult to decipher. There was a Life-magazine-wanna-be called “Soviet Life” but they were as difficult to find here in America as Life magazine was in the Soviet Union. In 1968 “Soviet Life” featured Armenia, and that was our first glimpse at the homeland.


But the main images that defined our virtual Armenia were Mount Ararat and Holy Etchmiadzin. Ararat was always sketched, drawn or photographed with two peaks and snow atop the summits. We had heard that it was in the boundaries of Turkey, but that didn’t mean too much to us. Ararat was the Armenian mountain. Period. Like the genocide, from which we all came, Ararat was not up for debate. It was just accepted as the Armenian mountain. We had t-shirits, signs, posters and all kinds of markings with the double-peaked mountain, and we all identified it as the symbol of Armenia. The other image, Holy Etchmiadzin, was a generic symbol of the Armenian Church. I don’t think we even realized it was the monastery itself, but the image came to mean “Armenian Church.” And put them together – Etchmiadzin against the backdrop of Ararat – and you had instant branding for Armenia! No need to pay anyone on Madison Avenue for this kind of recognition – it was built into us.


Growing up in America, we also had some idea of the Soviets. The adults would speak about them as “bad guys” but it wasn’t until Ronald Reagan’s time, in the 1980s, that he ascribed the term “Evil Empire” to the Union. We just knew that Armenia was locked into the Soviet Union, and as much as we called it “Armenia” for ourselves, to the outside world it was one big blob called the Soviet Union, and often times “Russia.” I remember this would drive me crazy. I knew we weren’t Russian, but it was just too easy for the Americans to paint it all with a broad stroke. If we wanted to write a report for school about Armenia, we’d have to search the indexes of the Encyclopedias or the Almanacs as a sub-category of the Soviet Union. And there it was “Armenia SSR” the smallest republic!


So amidst the cold war, a small nation and a small group of people behind that nation, we had a hero. He became the icon of the Armenian people. He was the Catholicos Vazken I. When he came to America, it was not only the head of the Church visiting, but for us he was the head of the nation. After all, everywhere the post-Genocide generation established itself, they lifted a dome and consecrated their churches. Church and state were intertwined.


In 1960, His Holiness Vazken I became the first Catholicos to visit the United States. He was a man of principle. He was a man who believed in doing right. In Los Angeles, the church community had rented the Shrine Auditorium (of Academy Awards fame) for the Catholicos to celebrate the Divine Liturgy. That day, the Pontiff came out of his car to a waiting crowd of several thousand. He looked up and saw the star and crescent on top of the auditorium and refused to celebrate the Liturgy under the Islamic symbol that was the banner for the murder of 1.5 Million of his people during the 1915 Genocide. He couldn’t justify Armenian churches being empty that day, while he was at this auditorium. And so, the thousands in waiting were moved to the nearby St. James church on Adams Blvd.


I had a chance to meet with Vazken I in 1960, then in 1968 when I was 12 and later when I went to seminary. In the evenings, he’d take a stroll through the grounds of the monastery, and we young seminarians would be on our guard – what if the Catholicos caught us NOT studying?
He came to America for the last time in 1987, and we celebrated the Divine Liturgy at the Hollywood Bowl. It was a memorable occasion, probably because he was older. We met him in San Francisco and he gave a blessing on my son Varoujan. He was the father figure we all understood him to be.


Vazken I was a charismatic individual. I remember at the time he passed away (1994), I was editing a publication called “Window: View of the Armenian Church” along with Hratch Tchilingirian. We were responsible for providing the information for so much of the Armenian Church immediately following the collapse of the communist state. It gave us a very special vantage point to analyze the happenings of the Armenian Church. I remember a conversation off-line with Hratch, where we were discussing the greats of the Armenian Church. It was obvious that the demise of Vazken I was really the end of an era.


I wrote an article for my parish newsletter, “Nakhagoch” immediately following the death of Vazken I. I reprint it here for a few reasons. First, I think its important that we recognize and honor our dead not only with requiems, but with tributes to their legacy. Second, as I write in the article, the greats become great for shaking the world, yes, but because they shake lives. Certainly, Vazken I shook my life. Finally, as I begin my 26th year as Vazken the priest, I want to keep a living tribute to this giant, but living out the ideals that were important to him and overlap my ministry.


Personal Reflections on the Passing of His Holiness Vazken I
by Fr. Vazken Movsesian
September 1994

It was early Thursday morning when I logged onto SAIN. There, with my usual email was a message from Istanbul, Turkey: His Holiness Vazken I Catholicos of All Armenians of beloved memory has entered eternal rest this morning (18 August 1994) in Yerevan.

It wasn’t shocking news, after all the Catholicos had been ill for some time now. Nevertheless, the message sent my mind wandering.

In the quiet morning hours, with the hum of a hard drive twirling, looking at this message on my computer screen, I couldn’t help but contemplate about His Holiness, the Church he represented and the future direction of the Church in our new society. Accelerating my thoughts was the fact that here, a priest of an ancient, conservative orthodox church was learning about the passing of the patriarch via a dynamic and progressive medium.We are standing at a pivotal point in the history of the Armenian Church.

It hasn’t been long since the Armenian Church has been forced to serve its congregation on foreign soils. His Holiness, the late Catholicos, had a difficult challenge before him when he took office. Post World War II Society, Stalinism, McCarthyism here in the States, the Cold War were the outside factors, while schisms among the Armenian people had contributed to assassinations and internal fighting. Yet the 47 year old bishop from Rumania took the helm of our ancient Church and became the 140th successor to the Apostolic throne.

He fought the atheism of the Soviet state with caution and tact. The fact that Armenia enjoyed a religious life and the Kevorkian seminary operated was a testament to His Holiness’ diplomatic style.

I had the good fortune and honor to meet His Holiness on several occasions. His first visit to the United States was in 1960. My parents were ACYO members and met the Catholicos as representatives of the Church youth group. I was four years old and remember him only as a warm and kind father. My mother had sewn him a cross holder and presented it to him that day. This gift he used for many years to come.

The cross holder made our next meeting, in 1968, a possibility. It was more than an opportunity to be off of school that day that made me want to accompany my parents to visit him in Los Angeles. I was 12 years old and going through the usual adolescent struggle to find identity. His Holiness was the embodiment of everything Armenian. After all, he was the “leader” coming from the homeland.

I remember being captivated by his charisma. He was overpowering, yet humble. He allowed this young boy to stay with him for a day and share some precious moments together. You would look at him and know that you were in the presence of a man who took his commitment and position seriously. This meeting had a great impact on my life.

It wasn’t until after I finished college, that I had another opportunity to meet him. This time our meeting was on Armenian soil. Our primate, Archbishop Vatché took me to Etchmiadzin in 1977 where I had the golden opportunity to study at the birthplace of our Faith and under His Holiness’ shadow. We would meet with him, once a week for classes in human psychology. Though the material was outdated by contemporary standards, it was the personal dialogues in which we engaged that made this a true learning experience.

The time I spent in Etchmiadzin is dream-like now. We would see the Catholicos daily when he walked in the garden, at the dinner table or in the church.

In 1982, we met in a more spiritual way. I was ordained to the sacred order of priesthood on September 26, on the anniversary date of His Holiness’ consecration as the Catholicos. On this occasion, Archbishop Vatché named me Vazken, in remembrance of that anniversary.

The last time we met was in 1987 when His Holiness made his last pontifical visit to the States. He was tired and the age and struggle of his people were catching up with him. Nonetheless, he did not cease to inspire us. As faithful of St. Andrew, we greeted him at various functions and services held here in the Bay Area. On the last day of his visit I was honored to accept on behalf of the St. Andrew parishioners, a gold hand cross, which now sits on our altar.In the weeks to come, you will be reading in the Armenian press many biographies about a giant of a man, about a patriarch who held the reigns of the Armenian Church for almost four decades, about the inner struggles and national aspirations of a father.

In these few paragraphs, I’ve briefly outlined his influence in my life. Sometimes we project upon our leaders and ‘heroes’ bigger-than-life images with global influences and impact. Unfortunately we forget that their greatest work is on the human level transforming their concerns to action - hugging a little boy, spending time with a young man, teaching a student and inspiring with form and actions. This is how the late Catholicos touched my life.

As for e-mail and hard drives, we will always have tools. But inspiration is something we can only get from humans who have souls, dreams and love.

I thank God for the opportunity to have known His Holiness Vazken I, as a leader, teacher and father. May God rest his soul and continue to provide us with inspiration.

Abandonment and Loneliness - then and now

What if someone cared in 1915?

Abandonment… Loneliness… Yesterday, the lectionary pointed us to the Gospel of St. Mark. We read the story of Jesus calming the sea (Mark 4:35f). Apart from the made-for-television scene of Jesus rebuking the storm and saving the ship, there is a very important question asked by the disciples that points to one of our biggest fears: abandonment.

The disciples are on board a small boat when the sea swells and the winds rock them back and forth. There is an immediate danger of capsizing. Quickly they look for their life-saver, and he – Jesus – is asleep in the back of the boat. They ask him, “Don’t you care that we are perishing?” It’s a very logical and natural question: “Why have your abandoned us now in our hour of need?”
Abandonment and loneliness are some of the scariest feelings that we have. I know as a child we are scared of the dark, not because we can’t see anything in the space, but because of the loneliness that is in the darkness. Think about it, we take a brother or a sister, maybe a friend to walk into the dark room with us – even a small little puppy dog – and we are comforted. Having someone next to us eases our fears. But when we are left alone, we’re frightened. And it is this sense of abandonment that the disciples felt when they turned to Jesus for help. They were left alone and on top of it all, they thought he did not care.

I think about this abandonment in reference to the Armenian Genocide. Why were we left alone in 1915? Even more, what if someone really cared in 1915? The question has resurfaced for me in many different forms and at different times. When I first read Ambassador Morgenthau’s letters from Turkey, describing the atrocities I wondered, “Why didn’t anyone care?” How could the Ambassador of the United States be documenting such violations against human life and all of it falling on deaf ears?

And to think, not even two decades after the end of the Armenian Genocide, Hitler used the world’s indifference to rally support for his entry into Poland.

The same question resurfaced for me a few years back when I returned from a trip to Rwanda. What was going on? Why didn’t the world care? How could we even fathom the idea of genocide in today’s modern world? Flashing in front of my eyes were the picture of the three chimps - see no evil, hear no evil and speak no evil. Maybe in that same ape-like fashion, the answer was simply to ignore it and it will go away.

I know I can’t change the past, but I can definitely do something about today and the future.
Today, genocide is taking place in the Sudan. In a remote area called Darfur millions of people have been displaced and hundreds of thousands have been massacred, raped, tortured and exterminated. Darfur is the Turkey of 2008. The neighboring areas in Chad are the Der Zors of 2008. The enemy is the same.

It is easy to identify the enemy as the Turks in 1915 or the Janjaweed in 2008. The bigger enemy is more difficult to recognize but equally destructive. It’s our collective indifference to the pain and destruction of others. It’s the same enemy we Armenians had in 1915. It’s the same enemy the Darfuri people have today.

Fortunately, the blind, deaf and dumb monkeys are just a few this time around. In fact, I’m pleased to note that some very important and prominent people have risen to the occasion and lent their voice to the people of Darfur. Whether Don Cheadle, George Clooney or Mia Farrow, they have all offered their celebrity status to get the word out and in so doing, challenged us.

The turn is ours now as Armenians. As the victims of the first genocide of the 20th Century, don’t we have a duty to be the first to speak out against genocide today? The time is here for us to lend our voices and our status to get the word out about Darfur.

Gabriel Stauring Person of the Year

When I met Gabriel Stauring he was running a mock refugee camp called “Camp Darfur.” We spent four days with him at the camp, located near the runway at LAX, getting the word out to whoever would listen. The location was appropriate – no one really cares about who’s around, as long as you’re not in the way of the planes. And we weren’t. Just like the people in Armenia in 1915 or Darfur in 2008, “As long as they’re not disrupting the flow, let them be,” says the world.

Later, Gabriel followed his calling and made a series of trips to the Chad/Darfur border. There he spent time with the refugees of the Genocide inside the camps. He has made five trips—leaving family and the comforts of home behind—just to get the word out about Darfur. He has broadcasted video stories and pictures to the world from those camps.

What if someone cared in 1915? We will never know the answer to that question. But we can be a part of the answer today – someone does care about the Genocide in Darfur.

This coming Friday, September 5, In His Shoes Ministries will be honoring Gabriel Stauring as its “2008 Person of the Year.” This annual award is given to someone who exemplifies the goals and purpose of the organization, that is, someone who walks in the shoes of others to experience and alleviate their pain. The event will take place at the Barnsdall Gallery Theatre in Hollywood, beginning at 7:00PM.

In His Shoes Ministries is pleased to award Gabriel this honor along with a $5,000 grant to help with his work in Darfur. We can’t change the past, but we can do something about today and tomorrow. We definitely owe it to the people of yesterday by helping the people who suffer the same fate today.

The event will also feature two new musical creations by Gor Mkhitarian. These are part of a set of spiritual songs to be released at the end of the year as a CD. The In His Shoes Ministries is convinced that issues of justice and peace can be solved on a spiritual realm and this CD one part of the larger effort.

In addition, artist Gregory Beylerian will be unveiling his latest creation called, “Universal Spiral of Peace” which was developed at the first “Person of the Year” award last year, honoring Rwandan Genocide survivor Ben Kayumba.

The public is invited to participate in this very special event. The evening promises to be one of enlightenment and definition. It is beyond tragedy that the world allows and tolerates genocide at the start of the 21st century. Certainly, the bigger tragedy would be for us to stand idle in the face of the current genocide in Darfur.

When I was in Rwanda I met with a group of ladies at Solace Ministries. They were at a gathering where two hundred widows were finding support through counseling and prayer. They were all victim-survivors of the Rwandan Genocide. The vast majority of them had been raped. The vast majority of them had HIV-AIDS.

These were the victims that were “allowed” to live. Why? Because since they had contracted the AIDS virus, they would soon infect the rest of the population. Basically, they were allowed to live so that they could finish the work of the murderers.

In our Armenian community, sadly we have a virus with which the enemy has strategically infected us. It’s indifference. It’s a big one – it contributes to the bloodless massacre. Without guns, sword or weapons, they can finish us off. I hope and pray that we don’t succumb to that indifference. It’s an ape-like behavior to close our mouths, eyes and ears. We can do better.

Please join us this Friday evening. You can get more information and tickets at www.inhisshoes.org. All contributions go to supporting the people of Darfur.

Zaven Jendian - like a comet - now the stardust...

I returned from Zaven Avedis Jendian's funeral in San Diego. I know after last night's podcast and the musical dedication some of you were asking - what was happening? I didn’t get into details, but had to mention him and the other loss we had this week. There is a weblog available with a day-to-day of Zaven's short life (7/17 to 8/18). http://ajendian.wordpress.com/

Zaven’s parents, Aleen and Micah, opened their life to all of us. They gave us a chance to share this precious life and in return I’d like to share some thoughts here from the day behind us.

Today we were all humbled by the Aleen and Micah’s incredible courage and faith. You know, life is played by a different set of rules when you have faith. We all witnessed that over the last month. We watched silently today as Micah picked up the small casket and brought it to the altar. Later he walked in procession with the sad songs of the church – and laid the casket on the grave.

The prayers of the Armenian Church are just incredible. They hit right home. They talk about the tragedy of life-ended-early, but in the context of the larger universal truths, the tragedy is mellowed.

At the grave I was asked to say a few words – a type of eulogy. I wasn’t expecting to talk, but didn’t hesitate. Aleen and Micah have a very special place in my heart. I was with them at the start of their family’s life at the holy altar a decade or so ago, and I needed to be there today as well.

I remember my mind went blank. What can you say in such intense pain? I stared the eulogy with the words “In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit” not only to signal the beginning, but as a petition to get some help. I figured if I invoked the Trinity, I could be the vessel for Their Holy Comfort.

This is where the Spirit led me…
We are conditioned to make sense out of the senseless. Every day we hear of children dying in wars and from famine. We turn the channel or turn the page of the newspaper. Today’s news, we can’t escape.

It may be common for people to look at Micah and Aleen with pity. But I would venture to say that the two of them would be the first to admit themselves very blessed to have been touched by Zaven’s life. And as painful as this separation is, the underlying reality that they were touched by a life from God is overwhelming.

If we really look at the meaning of the word “angel” we understand that we were all touched by an angel. Zaven was an angel that came to us. An angel is a messenger and Zaven brought us some very profound and fundamental messages, namely that life is precious. Life is delicate. That life is a blessing. I remember a couple of weeks ago when we played the John Lennon piece – written to his son Sean – he has a beautiful line in there “Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.” It seemed so appropriate for the lesson of the day. We really aren’t in control, despite all the advances in technology and knowledge that we've made and all the wealth and power we've accumulated. We're not in control.

Finally, the angel's message came on his death day – on the feast of the Assumption of the Holy Mother of God – it was a message that came through Zaven, about another parent, a mother, who didn’t understand why she had to let go of her Child.

Zaven’s life came like a comet. It was quick and judging by the size of the crowd gathered to say goodbye, this comet had blanketed a large section of life’s sky. And when comets go out of our sight, they leave a trail of stardust. I saw that stardust on top of everyone who was there today. They were being sprinkled with the love that Zaven brought to this world.

It is customary to end a eulogy, in the Armenian Church, with the wish, “May God rest his soul…” I don’t think there’s any doubt today that God has rested this tiny soul. Its now our turn to keep in mind all that this little precious life came to teach us.

Celebrating (not mourning) Sardarabad - 90 years later

I love the song “Sardarabad.” I love the first lines… “Yerp chi munoom yelk noo jar, khenteru en kdnoom hunar…” [roughly translated = When there exist NO means of resolution or no remedy, the crazy ones find the means!] These words have been a guiding riff for me, challenging me to look beyond the limits. In fact, it probably goes hand-in-hand with my policy that it’s always easier to ask for forgiveness than permission.

Sardarabad is our Armenian national victory! (http://www.hyeetch.nareg.com.au/genocide/sardarabad_p1.html) We stood up against the Turks and won! Did you catch that – we won! We held off the Turkish advance! And that’s exciting! I mean, like think about our history… we talk about King Tigran – but that’s a couple of millennium ago. So after all the massacres and genocides throughout our history, there is this small little battle – at Sardarabad – that shines as a political/military victory. Its not a major conquest by any stretch of the imagination, but it’s certainly on the list of victories for our small group of people – the Armenians.

And – THIS year – 2008 – is the 90th Anniversary of the Battle of Sardarabad! You know how we love those round numbers! So, is there any better time to celebrate? Let’s make some noise! This is Armenia’s victory and we’re going to celebrate! Right?

Well… you can imagine my disappointment and frustration when I received a directive from the Diocese last week, ordering all the churches to commemorate the 90th Anniversary of Sardarabad with… (can you guess?) with… a Requiem Service!!! (Hokehankist!)

Wow! One of the only battles we win – even Avarayr (Vartanantz) has a twist, where we commemorate Vartan Mamikonian as a fallen hero. But Sardarabad is a win-win. Now, I’m all for honoring the spirit of the dead, but come on, is this it? Is this the only direction in which the Armenian Church can steer us? In all fairness to the diocese, the directive signed by the Primate, did mention that the order had come from the top – that the Catholicos has asked for the requiem in all of the churches. But this only makes the situation sadder.

In scripture we read that before a certain man would follow Jesus, he asked if he could go and bury his father. Jesus replies, “Follow me, and let the dead bury the dead.” (Matt. 8:22) Don’t we, as the Church, have an obligation to order the same words to our people? Instead, we’re not only freeing them from the bonds of death, we’re (with directives such as this) sending them right back to the grave.

Sure, mourn the dead, but at some point realize that what the angel said to the oil-bearing women – “Why do you search for the living among the dead?” (Luke 24:5) is what the people are now saying to our church.

So what’s an alternative? How about a celebration of resurrection, instead of the requiem? How about explaining to our people that the Holy Eucharist holds within it the power to go beyond the grave? How about a party, where bishops and priests dance with the people in a celebration of victory? Did you read Sara Miles’ experience with the Eucharist? (http://www.mychurch.org/blog/191199/This-I-believe-about-the-Eucharist )

A few years back I decided to have my left lobe poked. It was interesting to see the reaction of the people to a priest with an earring. I wrote a small piece in the church newsletter “Nakhagoch” at the time. In its entirety -http://www.sain.org/dervaz/Gunsear.txt – but the portion that I direct you to:

I have never hidden the fact that I don't care to live up to these misdirected stereotypes we have of priests. A priest, as a servant of God, must celebrate life; after all it is the greatest gift God has given us. A priest must live with a zeal and excitement for life. He must be a listener of music, a singer of songs, a orator of poetry and a dreamer for the romantic. Life is here to be lived, not to be hidden away in the recesses of darkness.

The purpose of religion is to bear witness to that celebration. There is a genuine beauty in life which demands us to partake and celebrate. Christ tells us, "I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly." (John 10:10) Sure, life has its share of difficulties and problems, but our religion gives us an opportunity to rise above those pains.

It’s in this same spirit that I challenge us as the inheritors of Armenian Orthodoxy today, to go beyond the requiems, to look at the power of love and the power of devotion. If not, then yes, a requiem would be most appropriate, but not for the dead at Sardarabad – but for a church that has lost touch with life and living.

Fallen Grains of Wheat - Revisted

At the Requiem Service in the Armenian Orthodox Church, the Holy Gospel according to St. John, is read.

Arguably, it is the most heard passage in the Armenian Church today, considering that more Armenian Christians would rather huddle around a requiem service than the Eucharist... I'm tempted to say that, that is another issue. But its not. Its part of the same issue.This week, Armenian clergymen will be called up to 'perform' requiem services for the departed martyrs of 1915. This passage will again be heard by every Armenian who attends these gatherings.

John 12:24-26 ... "Very truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains a single grain, but if it dies, it bears much fruit. Those who love their life lose it and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life. Whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am there will my servant be also. Whoever serves me, the Father will honor." (NRSV)

Several years ago I worked on a project that I called "The Teotig Database" - while meditating on the above passage, I wrote this article for Window magazine. Here's a revisit - 93 years after the assassination of a people...

FALLEN GRAINS OF WHEAT

by Fr. Vazken Movsesian (Window Quarterly, Spring 1990)

The word "martyr" conjures many images in our minds. Most of those images have little, if any, relevance for life today. Martyrdom is an abstract idea for most. Every April 24, Armenians are reintroduced to the word. A martyr, we are told, is one who voluntarily opts for death rather than deny his faith. Like a cliche, the definition rolls off our tongues with ease as we ascribe it to the 1.5 million Armenians of the 1915 Genocide.

Like all Armenians, I had heard the word used. I had heard the stories of family and friends. I had read the books. I had even given my share of "Martyrs' Day" speeches, but "martyr" never had more meaning than after reading Teotig's "Golgotha of the Armenian Clergy" [see note at the end of article]. It was no longer an abstract term. Furthermore, I found the Armenian Church of 1915 in a paradoxical situation. Superficially, what appeared to be a church on the verge of death, was in fact the Armenian Church living it's most vibrant days of Christian witness.

BEYOND THE NUMBERS

Now that Teotig's material has been transcribed and processed, the data can be evaluated in many ways. In mere numbers alone, it is evident that the Armenian Church suffered immensely. Seventy five years after the fact, we still have a long road toward recovery. Teotig's work, however, presents much more than numbers. My intention here is not to analyze the data rather it is to reflect on the actions of these clergy and the implications of those actions for us. The documentation of the massacres gives us real life stories, examples, of clergymen, from whom we, as clergy and faithful of the Church 75 years removed from the tragedy, have much to learn. Although a few of the clergy of 1915 denied their faith, the overwhelming majority did not compromise themselves as Christians and became worthy of the title "martyr." These clerics lead the Armenian people through that same road of martyrdom. Today, in retrospect, we have some serious questions to ask ourselves regarding the value of that decision and action. But first let us look at the pre-Genocide Church, which obviously was a more viable institution than the Armenian Church today, by virtue of more clergy, greater and closer contact with the people, Her ability to operate within hostile circumstances and most importantly, by the fact that Her followers did not abandon Her in these trying times.

What was the drawing power of the pre-Genocide Church? Why were Armenians determined not to compromise their faith, the Faith of the Orthodox Church? In the village of Kuvner, Bitlis, for example, the 400 Armenian families out of fear of persecution practiced their "worship" -- not private prayer, but organized worship -- in their homes.

How did the Church move men such that they refused worldly pursuits and survival, opting for the Cross instead? For example, Daniel Der Stephanian, a young revolutionary, immigrated to the United States in 1909 but returned to Gudoutz's St. Garabed monastery, was ordained as Fr. Stephan and as a priest lead his suffering people. Or, Fr. Vartan Hagopian (Moush, Bitlis), who upon noticing that the Kurdish-speaking Armenians of Slivan (Dikranagerd) were without a pastor and on the verge of religious conversion notified the Patriarch and was assigned to the region. Fr. Vartan was martyred with his flock after returning them to the fold of the Mother Church.

What kept the clergymen loyal to the Church despite the hardships and humiliation they had to bear because of their association? In Sepastia, from the prelate down to the parish priest, clerics could not walk the streets without ridicule from the Turks. As an everyday ritual the Turks would curse and blaspheme the Armenian's cross and faith. In Bourhan, when the village executioner finished torturing Fr. Khoren Hambartzoumian with unthinkable methods, as an ultimate indignation, he placed a dog in Fr. Khoren's lap and demanded that the good priest baptize the mutt. Fr. Khoren was butchered.

What was the redeeming value of the Faith that these priest would demand from their parishioners loyalty until the end? Fr. Ashod Avedian, (Erzeroum) was among 4000 men separated from the women in the village of Tzitogh and shackled together. He counseled the men to be brave in the face of death, having them pray in unison, "Lord, have mercy." And in the only sacramental gesture possible, he had the men take the "cursed" soil and swallow it as communion while confessing, "For all the sins which I have committed, in thought...." Questions about the authority and influence of the Holy Church continue to form within our minds as we read the multitude of stories of the men who not only preached the Faith but lived and died for it. The Church carried great weight in the lives of the people in 1915 as underscored by their martyrdom. Interestingly enough, the Church was not viewed as sanctuary, as is common during times of crisis.

The Armenian Church of 1915 was anything but a safe haven or refuge for Her people. As Teotig writes, "At that time the intolerance of the three Islamic nations (the Turks, the Persian and the Kurds) toward Christianity had reached its pinnacle." The Armenian clergy were the symbols of Christianity that the Muslim Turks were fanatically molesting. To be associated with the Armenian Church, let alone be a part of it, was the same as signing one's own execution orders. We refer to the victims of the Genocide as martyrs precisely for this reason: they willingly opted for association with the Church -- to be identified as Christians -- and were therefore denied existence.

Here lies the key to our questioning. The martyrdom of the people tells us that the Church in fact filled more than a social need for them. The pre-Genocide Armenian Church was exclusively a house of God. She was the Christian identity of the people and not much else. Because Armenians lived within their millet, Armenian community life was already defined. The Church did not have to take on the responsibility of perpetuating the nation. She had a tremendous influence within the lives of the people, because the people understood it as God ordained. Armenians did not understand, "In the world you have tribulation: but courage! I have overcome the world," (Jn. 16:33) as a statement made by a mere mortal but by the Living God. Armenians took to heart the assurance, "Blessed are you when men revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven..." (Mt. 5:11-12) because it was guaranteed by the Saviour of the World.How else can we explain or understand martyrdom? It is only in these terms. Given the option to live or die, who would chose death, unless of course, the person had a doubtless belief that the "Lord is my Shepherd... even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil; for thou art with me..." (Ps. 23:1,4). Who would take the torture and humiliation of the cross, unless one knew for certain that the cross was not an end, but a means to the end. The Armenian Christian martyr of 1915 firmly believed in the resurrection of Christ and the guarantee of the same for his/herself.

The operative word in the definition of martyrdom is "willingly," which implies the victims had the option to do otherwise. Some of the sources for Teotig were in fact converts to Islam. These were the few that were able to escape and live to tell the story. Teotig refers to the conversion as acceptance of the "severe order" (khisd hraman). By way of explanation, he inserts within parenthesis the word "Islamized." Though the number of these converts was relatively minuscule, the fact that some converted asserts that the option for conversion, and therefore life was available.

THE TRUE LOSSES OF THE CHURCH

The 1915 Church in Turkey was well established by virtue of Her existence within the Armenian communities for centuries. The Armenian Church in the diaspora has only a living history of 75-100 years. The Church today is built upon the ruins of 1915. The losses of the Armenian Church were far greater than the decrease in the number of clergy. The Church lost Her impact over Armenians and lost Her place as a necessity among Her people. Her preoccupation with survival in the post-Genocide years moved Her from the sacred realm to the secular. The objective of the Church was compromised by the necessity to build. The devastation of the Genocide was too great upon Church leadership so there was no one "manning the ship."

Meanwhile, we the post-genocide generations, found ourselves rebuilding without the proper "floor plans." For us, the Church was not only a religious organization but a means toward national preservation. Without the necessary religious grounding, coupled with societal norms which advocate no absolutes, God lost us to the temptation of self- assurance. If the Armenian Church was to be rebuilt, it was because of our own efforts, we thought, and not God's will. God was helpless. After all, where was God when we needed him most? Surely He did not have the power to rebuild our nation? God lost His strength and most importantly His healing power. The Armenian nation had been severely wounded and if anyone was going to heal us, it would be ourselves. And so, our community and church shifted from God-centeredness to self-centeredness. Our heroes changed. We began singing the praises of self-made industrialists who were now financing, rebuilding and healing the Church.

ELI, ELI, LAMA SABACH-THANI?

Perhaps one of the most pondered questions by people is, why evil? Many volumes on this subject line the shelves of theological and philosophical libraries. The question is simple: If God is good and if God is omnipotent then why does evil exist? Either God is not good or God is not all- powerful (e.g. He has no dominion over evil). The attempt at defending God's goodness or omnipotence in the face of evil is called a theodicy.

Armenians at the time of the Genocide as well as today continue to ask this question. The Genocide of 1915 and more recently the earthquake of 1988 have both given us the necessary ammunition to lash out against a seemingly weak god, who accepts our loyalties throughout the centuries and abandons us in our time of need. Could God have not prevented the execution of Talaat's orders? Could God have not prevented the extensive destruction of the earthquake?As a pastor I have been asked the same question from parishioners who are confronted with a manifestation of evil in their lives. Why cancer? Why divorce? Why young death? The deeper questions begin to surface: Does God hear our prayers? Is it fate? Is it our destiny? Ultimately, it is the Church that is on trial. Why advocate a faith in a god who is seemingly powerless against pain? The answer is by no means an easy one. In fact, as Teotig's documentation has shown, the Church has not been spared Her share of evil. Ironically, this may very well be the beginnings of an Armenian Church theodicy.

The Church, as the Body of Christ was not rescued from evil, as neither was the actual Body of Christ, the Son of the Omnipotent. The crucifixion of our Lord Jesus Christ is the Church's crucifixion. Theologian Hans Kung writes, "The crucified Jesus is present in the Church as the risen Lord. Christ does not exist without the Church, the Church does not exist without Christ. Christ is for the Church not only an event in a constantly receding past, nor only an event in the future, whether near or distant. ... The Church does not derive its life only from the work which Christ did and finished in the past, nor only from the expected future consummation of his work, but from the living and efficacious presence of Christ in the present" (The Church).The crucifixion of our Lord is not to be understood as a one time event, centered in first century Palestine. During the Divine Liturgy, we herald, "Christ is among us... He who is God is here seated." We are invited to commune with Christ who is-- not was --sacrificed and shared among us. We are called to share in His resurrection, as well as His passion and crucifixion.

At the Turkish "Golgotha," the Body of Christ was nailed to the Cross. In that misery, the Armenian Church asked the same question Jesus asked, "My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken me" (Mt. 27:46). Today, we echo that appeal in our personal lives as well as on behalf of the Church, only to receive the same seemingly silent answer. That answer is only assumed silent when our ears are not attuned to an existence beyond this temporal one. Among the disciples who were at the foot of the Jesus' cross, certainly some thought His teachings were in vain if His loving Father was not willing to come to His rescue. But to those who trusted His teachings, their fear diminished with the anticipation of resurrection. We too are not privy to the answer, unless first we are able to trust the living words of Christ and be ready to stand in eternal vigil for the resurrection.

God's interaction with our world can not be confined to our limited understanding of time and justice. God does not prevent evil. This does not diminish the power of God nor His goodness. It shifts the responsibility to us -- to be convinced by our faith and by the crucified and living Lord among us, that God's love is greater than our sense of justice. St. Nersess Shnorhali writes in the hymn of the Saturday matins, "Do not judge us by justice, rather by Your mercy grant us expiation." Justice is grounded in our temporal existence, God's mercy transcends to the eternal. The healing power of God, to fix our wounds and abrasions is in His love not in our understanding of justice. If the resurrection of the Armenian people and Church is dependent upon human strength alone, it is doomed to fail as are all enterprises which are built upon limited faculties. The Church survives today because of human efforts. She lives today because of Christ's eternal presence.

The Armenian clergy at the turn of the century were martyred with this understanding of Divine intervention. It is foolish to say they did not fear death; however, it is apparent from their martyrdom that they did not understand death as the final stop in a life running on hurt and pain. They believed and were convinced in the resurrection of Christ. The clergy of 1915 offer an understanding of the Church prior to Her children's physical and spiritual breakdown. At that time, the faith of the Armenian Church was no different than the faith it expounds today. What has changed however, is our perception. As workers of the Church today we have a mission to revert back to this basic understanding of the Church. The Church does not need healing, rather we do. Healing -- God's healing -- begins when we accept the Armenian Church as the Body of Christ, where our Lord lives in His Crucifixion and Resurrection. Otherwise, we are merely placing a bandage on our wounds. It is temporary, it is deceptive and will yield scare tissue.

In light of Teotig, martyrdom can no longer be an abstract idea. Rather, it is part of our commission as sons and daughters of the Armenian Church. Thank God today the Armenian Christians in America are not being forced at gun point to witness to their faith. Yet the pressure from worldly pursuits, the temptation to deny good in the face of personal gain, and the defining of the world as self-serving rather than God-serving all take their tolls upon our faith. These are the new weapons of evil. Do we question why God is not sparing us prosperity? If that prosperity has cost us our self- worth then is that not evil? Would we ever lash out against God and ask, why He is not saving us from material success? If that success has been acquired at the cost of the sanctity of family and the loss of principles, is that not evil?

Evil will always be present. It is part of a system built upon human free will. In the Garden of Eden it was the serpent, in 1915 it was the Turk, today it is the self, each demanding primary loyalty. Martyrdom for us is a denial of the evil and opting for life. This is true in our personal life as well as communal life. It begins with the acceptance of an eternal life, a life based on the will of God, a life which defines justice by God's love and mercy.

Throughout Teotig, we read of priests who dedicated their lives to the service of the Church. Yet, tragically, many of them did not have graves nor a Church funeral. To their memory, I wish to present the Gospel passage from the funeral service. "Unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. He who loves his life loses it, and he who hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life" (Jn. 12:24-25). The pastors of 1915 dedicated their lives to God's Holy Church. They denied the pleasures of this life for the riches of eternal life. Like grains of wheat, they fell and died. The Faith, the Faith of the Armenian Church is the fruit they bear. As we pray to God for their eternal rest, let us at the same time partake of this fruit. This in fact is our greatest tribute to their martyrdom and their blessed memory.

------------------- Note ------------------------------------

By 1921, only six years after the Genocide, a scribe using the pen name "Teotig" had compiled a volume of Armenian Church casualties entitled, "Golgotha of the Armenian Clergy". Chronicled in this book are the perils of the Armenian Church during the 1915 Genocide. For the first time, the 412 page work written in Armenian has been transcribed into English and set as a data base by the A.C.R.A. Group research team.

The book introduces the reader to 1252 clergymen specifically, with brief biographical information and descriptions of the atrocities imposed upon these clerics. This volume by no means is an exhaustive list of losses suffered by the Armenian Church in 1915. Teotig assures the reader that some lists are fragmented and certain towns and villages had no remaining survivors from whom information could be gathered. For instance, in the town of Hiusenig, (near Kharbert) all the priests were murdered along with the townspeople. Clergy records did not survive. The same is true of the village of Khoylou as well as other localities.

Nevertheless, Teotig's work presents a strong base and by all means is a monumental effort. It allows us to take a glimpse at the pre-Genocide Armenian Church and to understand the magnitude of the damage to the Church, to Her people and the spiritual decay which has ensued in the Armenian Church community over the past 75 years.

Golgotha of the Armenian Clergy is full of horror stories page after page, all tied together by a common thread of suffering and martyrdom. Teotig interviewed and compiled data from a variety of sources, many were first hand witnesses and clergy who escaped the atrocities one way or another. To understand the scope of his work, he confesses that the massacres were so precisely orchestrated that often villagers did not know of the destruction in a neighboring village a mile away. Yet he was able to compile and document the witness of 1252 of these clergy and their flocks.

The register includes among the most notable victims, Gomidas Vartabed Soghomonian to the most seemingly obscure, such as Krikor Kahana Zartarian, a priest of Sepastia whose finger nails were pulled, horse shoes nailed to his feet and then his skin was butchered off his body, because of his refusal to deny his faith.It is more than evident that the Armenian Church suffered immensely in numbers alone.

Seventy five years after the fact, we still have a long road toward recovery. The Armenian population has steadily increased but the number of clergy to meet the ever growing needs of the people has not.

***

Is all money, money?

Several years ago (around the early 90’s) the infamous arms dealer Sarkis Soghanalian was making headlines in the Armenian press by donating to Armenian organizations and churches.
He had appeared on CBS-60 Minutes at the time and was internationally known for his sale of arms and weapons to a variety of different clients.

When there was talk that Soghanalian might donate to the churches, one of our overly righteous, self-appointed defenders of the ethical virtues of the church (a priest, no less) cried foul. How dare we, the church, take “tainted” money from this man? Ill-gotten gains, he claimed.
On the surface, this reasoning sounded good. After all, the church is an agent of peace and there’s a definite incongruity in peace efforts being funded by money coming from the sale of weapons of war. But, what got me thinking deeper on the subject was that the priest who raised the issue was serving in California’s Central Valley. In other words, his congregation made its money by working the land. And so, you have to wonder, how much of the money that came into his church’s plate was from farmers and land-owners who had exploited migrant farm workers? (Yes. Coincidence that tomorrow is Caesar Chavez day?)

And so, we have a double standard here: somehow money from guns is dirtier than money produced at the expense of people who might not rate a spot on the 6 O’clock News? Mexicans risking their lives, crossing the border for a chance to make a few bucks. They live in sub-standard conditions, and because they will, they work for very little wages. And if someone exploits these people they are called shrewd and good businessmen – after all, they are turning over a buck for less than what it would ordinarily cost. How is this any less ill-gotten or tainted than the money from the arms dealer?

So my question – isn’t money, money? If you go far enough, isn’t there some factor that will always put the money in the tainted category?

I bring this up now because I’m concerned about the role of money in our efforts. I have always insisted that we have a product that is worth funding. (Check out the “Miller Interviews” on the In His Shoes area of YouTube.) In other words, we have to stand by our product and believe in it to the point that we can (and should) ask for money for the product. If we are engaged in a ministry, we should ask people for money for the ministry. If we are engaged in helping children of war, we should ask people for money to help children of war. And so on…

What would you think of a store which sold light bulbs, but every time you walked into that store they kept handing you oranges and insisted that those oranges were good oranges? Well, for a while you’d be confused and then you’d get use to it. You’d start coming to the light bulb store to do your shopping for oranges. And eventually, the employees themselves would be convinced that their job was to promote and sell oranges. But, the savvy shopper will figure out that there are better oranges at the produce store and since you’re unsure of your main product – light bulbs – then certainly the better light bulbs must be elsewhere as well.

This is what has happened in our church. We’re selling all the wrong things. We have a product called Armenian Orthodoxy, and instead we’re selling Debutante Balls, Fashion Shows, and basketball games. So what happens – people come to our church searching for the ancient truth that they can ONLY get from the Armenian Orthodox church. They walk in, like they do to the light bulb store, and we tell them, here, have a debutant ball: this is the mission of the church. Or our children come looking for identity and we say “Join our team! We belong to a great basketball league!” Well – what do you suppose will happen? At first, people will be confused but eventually we will have a steady clientele ready to consume the products we offer. Some people will come thinking this is the Debutante store. Others will come thinking it’s the basketball store. Many of the employees will forget what the product is. BUT the savvy shopper, will figure out there are better basketball courts at the YMCA and there is certainly better places to learn about faith than a place that doesn’t want to give it to you.

In your own experience – I know we can all relate to this – you tell non-Armenians that you belong to the Armenian Church and what do they tell you? “You have some great food.” “I love the bakalava… or is that the Greeks?” In fact, just in the Los Angeles area I can tell you if people want the best pilaf it’s at one of the churches, the other has the market on kufta, and still, the other is known for its topig!

Which are the successful ministries? The ones that offer a product they believe in. Does that mean they don’t sell anything else? Certainly not. We’re all realists and we know that money is the necessary tool to get work done. But there are certain ratios that need to be agreed upon from the beginning. Albeit, these ratios may be arbitrarily established, still they are there to guide us. For instance, I have set up an arbitrary ratio in my own ministry between outreach and time allocated to admin. The same can be put in place for funding. If we can raise 80% of our funds from donations directly to our ministry then we can justify 20% of the money coming from non-ministry functions. I think this is reasonable and we’re doing it in our small corner of the world.

In His Shoes and the St. Peter Youth Ministries has been funded primarily by people who believe in the mission we’re engaged in. Even the occasional dinner dance, or concert is supported primarily by people who are supporters of the ministry, so that the events don’t come off as fund-raisers, as much as opportunities for the community to get together and enjoy fellowship and each other’s company.

Now we are engaged in raising money for poverty. Our annual Famine, raised awareness and money for world hunger. Most of the money comes from direct donations – people giving to the cause, that is, to aid world hunger. A percentage of the money comes from indirect solicitations, for instance, the sale of lemonade on the street corner – with proceeds benefitting the Famine. We have to admit that the person buying a glass is more interested in quenching his own thirst than hydrating the dehydrated children of Africa, still, in a small way awareness for the big cause is heightened.
This balance between direct and indirect solicitation is important. It will be the difference between a sincere effort to do our mission and selling oranges, just because we don’t believe in our light bulbs.

A few months ago, we saw a raffle ticket that was being sold by an Armenian organization to bring aid to the Refugees of Iraq. This was a hard one for me – because behind each of those words is a mass suffering. It’s another one of those incongruent situations where people vying for a chance to go to vacation in Hawaii might also be saving a life in the war zone. As I read the raffle ticket I wondered if the Jewish Diaspora during World War II was selling raffle tickets to vacation in New York, with proceeds benefitting displaced persons in Europe? Or even worse, if we had a large enough Diaspora in 1915, would we have raffled off a Ford Model-T so that proceeds could be sent to aid Genocide victim families and survivors?

Obviously, there are many for whom these issues – poverty, ecology, torture, violence, environment, immigration – are not important. And there are many in these categories that have money. And I would even venture to say, once that money is not used to bring aid and comforted, it falls into the earlier tainted category. AND, so the challenge is on us – the Robin Hood challenge – to take from the rich and distribute to the poor. It’s a challenge. It’s also ethically challenging because we ourselves don’t want to be tainted in the process of doing this. So it’s important that we hold our mission always in front of us and not lose sight about what we’re doing and the reason why we’re doing it. And along the way, we need to police ourselves, in case it does get out of hand. I think this is an area that we need to develop as we grow and as we expand. Certainly, if nothing else, I think the addition of these blogs and the dialogue that follows either on line or in our Questions in Faith discussion, is a step in this direction. We don’t want to be like the light-bulb store employees, who have gotten so use to the idea of selling oranges that we’ve forgotten that we have a product that is worth pushing, promoting and selling.