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

Last month our In His Shoes Ministries released the new album: “Spirit” by Gor Mkhitarian. Here is a story published in Armenian Reporter newspaper, January 26, 2009. 

Gor Mkhitarian explores the realm of the sacred

The new sound of Armenian spiritual music

by Shahane Martirosyan

Published: Monday January 26, 2009

Gor Mkhitarian performs spiritual music at the release of his album Hogi (Spirit) at the Zipper Concert Hall in downtown Los Angeles, Dec. 18, 2008.

Los Angeles – On December 18, 2008, as Gor Mkhitarian took the stage and the lights dimmed, he sat on a chair with his guitar on his lap and began to sing: “Hayr mer, vor hergins es, surp yeghitsi anun ko. . . .”

The performance, at a concert celebrating the release of his seventh studio album, Spirit (Hoki) – held at the Zipper Concert Hall in downtown Los Angeles – probably marked the first time that “Hayr Mer” (the Lord’s Prayer) was being sung with guitar accompaniment in front of an audience.

While today spiritual and specifically religious compositions are a major component of world music, contemporary Armenian music has yet to warm to the idea of infusing spiritualism – or even spiritual elements – into new material. Mkhitarian is trying to change that.

Though far from being a strictly religious album in the vein of Christian rock, Spirit honors the great ancient tradition of Armenian sacred music and introduces a thoroughly modern spiritual – and humanistic – musical idiom that has been sorely lacking in much of Armenian pop and rock.

Spirit is the fruit of a collaborative effort between Mkhitarian and Fr. Vazken Movsesian, founder of the Armenian Church Youth Ministries and the In His Shoes Mission. Arguing that it is important to make spiritual music resonate with today’s audiences, and young audiences in particular, Fr. Movsesian says: “From the church’s early saints, like Gregory the Illuminator and Mesrob Mashdots, to the prayerful lives of Nerses Shnorhali and Grigor Narekatsi, from the melodies of Sayat-Nova to [the compositions and arrangements of] Komitas Vardapet, the message was given in a language understood by all.”

“This is the first time we are trying to create new, modern, spiritual songs,” Mkhitarian echoes.

A breath of fresh air

As he came of age in his native Vanadzor, Armenia, Mkhitarian was enamored of rock music. He also sang in a church choir. “I grew up listening to the rock heroes of the 1970s,” he recalls. Since then his musical tastes have evolved in leaps and bounds. “If you kill me now, I cannot listen to the Rolling Stones,” says Mkhitarian, who these days is fond of acts such as Coldplay and the Dave Matthews Band.

In 1996, when Armenia still faced enormous hardships, Mkhitarian joined his brother-in-law, Mher Manukian, to start the band Lav Eli.

Acclaimed as an innovative underground rock group that genuinely reflected the angst of a society in flux, Lav Eli released two well-regarded albums before disbanding. “There was a point when we decided to do different things,” Mkhitarian says, referring to his desire at the time for bolder experimentation with various musical genres and even instruments.

Losing no time to make good on his vision, Mkhitarian wrote fresh material following Lav Eli’s breakup and recorded a demo tape that was eventually released, in 2001, by the newly created Pomegranate­Music label in Boston. The debut CD, an acoustic collection titled Yeraz, brought a breath of fresh air into contemporary Armenian folk music and featured instruments such as the banjo and dumbek, in addition to guitars.

Creative diversity

Since Yeraz, the artist’s six subsequent albums have seen a diversity of excursions into rock, pop, and folk. Mkhitarian, whose records have been released under his own Gor­Music label since 2004, also put out an English-language album, titled Green Grass.

Commenting on the eclectic quality of his work, Mkhitarian, a resident of Los Angeles since 2003, says, “I offer something different – not something unique, just something different.”

He adds that as the release of his latest effort, Spirit, was nearing, he didn’t know how to brand the album. “I have touched on too many genres,” he notes. “It’s a folkloric album, yet some people call it alternative while others see it as underground, sub-genre, post-depressionism.” Mkhitarian prefers to describe the record as an essentially rock album that offers a “Pearl Jam/Seattle Sound feel with a touch of Armenian folk.”

The album’s concept is credited to both Mkhitarian and Fr. Movsesian, who has introduced the artist to the In His Shoes Mission. A nonprofit organization open to people of all religious backgrounds and persuasions, In His Shoes was established in response to acts of ethnic cleansing such as the Armenian Genocide. Through rallies, fundraisers, and other public events, the organization provides support to marginalized populations and strives to help end hunger throughout the world.

All proceeds from Mkhitarian’s latest album will be donated to the In His Shoes Mission.

While several songs on Spirit carry a specifically Christian message, Mkhitarian stresses the universal nature of the album’s spiritualism. “I want people to get exactly what they want out of it,” he says, explaining that his goal is ultimately to help listeners achieve a certain inner awakening, whether or not they choose to see it connected with their particular religious beliefs.

 

 

 

 

“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.

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.

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.

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.