PASS THE FLAME
Reverend Clergy, Diocesan Delegates, and beloved Friends:
I am very pleased to share my thoughts and my vision with you at this
103rd Diocesan Assembly, because each of you here constitutes the leadership
of our Diocese. Before I begin, let me first recognize our host, the
Armenian Church of the Holy Martyrs in Bayside, its pastor, parish council,
and the 103rd Diocesan Assembly Committee. I am sure I speak for all
of us when I say we are grateful for your hospitality and generosity.
I hope our work today and tomorrow and this year will prove fruitful.
As you remember, four years ago at our Diocesan Assembly, the Intent
of our Diocese was discussed and it was announced that it is: “The Armenian
Church is significant in the lives of all Armenians and their families.”
At that time, five focus areas were introduced to achieve our intent:
Leadership, Worship, Communication, Stewardship, and Youth.
Each of our assemblies over the past four years has revolved around one
“focus area.” Each year, delegates have come out of our workshops revitalized,
inspired and eager to involve themselves in the church. By focusing on
these areas, we have made a positive impact on our Diocese. I know that
many of you have been able to make a tangible difference in your home
parish life.
This year, we will explore the last of our five “focus areas” – Youth
– the one most directed toward the future. Our theme is “Youth: Carrying
the Flame” and I want to share with you my commitment to this year’s
important theme. As a result of the work we begin here, our youth will
come to know the meaning of and feel proud of the “flame” of the Armenian
Christian heritage.
By the banner of this Assembly we are charging our youth to “carry the
flame.” What exactly is this flame? What does it mean both to us and
to our youth? We choose the flame not by accident. A flame, or a fire
if you will, provides warmth and light. These are basic to human survival.
But we choose it because it is symbolically rich, beyond our basic instinct
to survive. The flame suggests something living, something alive, something
indivisible, and, most importantly, something eternal.
To us Christians the flame represents the living Christ, the eternal
light of the world. But in addition, as I see it, the flame symbolizes
something both eternal and temporal to us as Christians. Its eternal
quality is Christ; its temporal and earthly component is our nationhood.
To us, owing to our heritage, our Christian statehood, the flame by definition
is a symbol of the unity of our Christianity and our Armenian culture,
and all that these imply—our liturgy, our religious practices, our traditions,
and our customs.
For us, our faith is bound to our history and culture. At their best,
our faith and our culture mediate and inform each other. They cannot
stand alone nor serve the purpose of the other. To recognize them as
taking on living form in their unity—like the flame—is at the heart of
understanding who we are. And it is only when we know who we are that
we can be confident in our identity as Christians and Armenians. Without
a strong sense of our identity, which inspires in each of us a sense
of purpose; we are forced to lead unfulfilled lives as wondering generalities.
As many of you probably know, a few weeks ago I was deeply privileged
to accompany our Catholicos to Rome, to participate in the funeral services
of Pope John Paul II. It was an extraordinary and unprecedented event.
Millions upon millions flocked to Rome to mourn his passing and honor
his discipleship. He was, by any standard, a remarkable person, both
as the leader of the Catholic Church and as a simple, and even unassuming,
Polish man. What many of you may not know is that he also knew and appreciated
the value of our Armenian heritage. I will never forget his visit to
Armenia in 2001. A remark he made before his departure has stayed with
me ever since. He said that he had dreamt of coming to Armenia, of viewing
Mount Ararat, of kissing the soil that had been watered by the blood
of so many martyrs. “It is an ancient Christian country,” he said, “but
a living one, too.” He was grateful to God for affording him the opportunity
to see our land and its people. I was deeply touched, and still am, that
this man, who had seen so much of the world, could also bare witness
to the strength and tradition of our Church and that he loved the people
who have nurtured and cared for our enduring, eternal flame for so many
generations.
Looking out over Saint Peter’s Square just a few weeks back I wondered
what it was about Pope John Paul II that touched so many lives. Having
met the Pope on several occasions, I know by experience how powerful
his presence was. He was, after all, the leader of a powerful, worldspanning
institution. But that to me was not why he was so greatly loved. I think
what so many loved in him originated outside of the awesome powers and
prestige of his office. Behind the formal powers and protocols of the
papacy stood a simple Polish man who was distinctly himself, whether
celebrating a mass or standing on the streets of some distant foreign
land. He was humble, approachable, and down-to-earth. He was, in a word,
authentic.
To me, the better part of his authenticity and humanity stemmed from
his deep and abiding identification with his Polish homeland and its
history. Speaking with him–even in the halls of the Vatican—one always
had the sense that you were speaking with a son of Poland, who carried
a pride and love for his ancestry. Put simply, he knew who he was, and
because he knew who he was he could walk confidently and boldly yet humbly
in the value of who he was. That confidence allowed him to be open to
the entire world, to engage it, and act in it, and embrace people from
other places and cultures. I think there is a lesson in Pope John Paul’s
life and how he maintained his Polish identity for us as Armenians and
how we, too, can hold to our identity and heritage. We, too, can be confident,
about being Armenian, about carrying our special, unique flame. And that
confidence, if it is genuine— that is, if it is rooted in a knowledge
of our history and heritage—frees us to open, without fear, to the rest
of the world, as it did for our forbearers and as it does today for many
in our community who carry our flame with pride and conviction before
the world.
How do we instill in our youth the humble yet proud confidence to bear
our noble and distinguished heritage? In what ways can we nourish their
souls to make our 1,700-year-old history meaningful and pertinent, a
living breathing part of their lives, in the 21st century? In answering
these, I think it vitally important that we meet our youth where they
are, on their own terms. That is where we start.
Our youth may appear to be tuned out to what the Church has to offer,
but I know that in their heart they want to connect. True, they do not
face the threats to life that our ancestors daily confronted, but we
as parents and elders must recognize what challenges our youth do face.
We sometimes do not give our youth enough credit. Most of our youth are
in search of meaning, of something real. They will look back to the teachings
that they know to be true, to find meaning in their lives and to take
possession of their identity. And what will they behold in us when the
time comes for them to ask “Who am I?”
I think we often miss several lessons we can lean from the Bible story
of the Prodigal Son. When the frivolity and recklessness of youth had
taken its course, the prodigal, penniless and alone, goes home. True,
he was hungry and homeless, but there is more to the story. Notice what
we sometimes forget about this story. The father had maintained a home,
to which the son could return. Are we earnestly maintaining our Armenian
homes for that moment when our children return? Notice also how the father
encountered his son. The Bible tells us that he ran to his son with open
arms and clothed him in a fine robe. I ask each one of us to open our
arms for our youth, understand their needs, and cloth them in the fine
robe of the Armenian Christian identity and our traditions.
Naturally those needs change over time. That’s why we need to make an
effort to find the things with our church that speak directly to the
new generation: that make the church relevant to each present moment.
As I said, every generation of Armenian Christians has had to find a
way to pass the flame in a manner relevant to their time. We should feel
encouraged in our task because frankly, it was often much harder in earlier
generations than it is for our own.
Let me offer a story from my own family history, about how the flame
of our heritage was carried in a time of great turmoil and uncertainty
and eventually passed to me. Whatever faith and devotion I possess in
my life originated in my grandmother. It was she who passed the flame,
first to my father, and later to my brother and me. It was not until
I reached manhood that I realized what a remarkable woman she truly was.
She was a young bride, three months pregnant, when Turkish soldiers took
her husband away, never to return. That was during the Armenian Genocide.
Imagine her condition: a young woman, vulnerable and in the delicate
state of childbearing, every source of security removed from her hands,
her entire world crumbling before her very eyes.
But in spite of her monumental tragedy, my grandmother refused to allow
the flame she carried to die. She survived the massacres, gave birth
to my father, and cared for him as well as her elderly family. The warmth
from that precious flame instilled in her the determination to endure.
But more than that, it transformed what could have been a life of bitterness
and anger, into one of invincible, overflowing love and thanksgiving.
In my reflections on my grandmother, I sometimes wonder about those who
passed the flame to her. Who among my family before her passed such an
enduring flame? Who kindled this Armenian flame such that it would stand
the capacity to suffer so much harm and answer that harm with loving
kindness? I learned at the feet of my grandmother, but before her, in
history, there stand generations and generations.
My story is a story told many times, and many Armenian families can tell
of similar ancestors. The present generation of Armenians owes its very
existence to those who carried the flame of our heritage, and passed
it on to others. The generation of Genocide survivors had every reason
to lose heart, to give up, to shed their Armenian identity and assimilate
into the world. But they chose otherwise, and we are the better because
of them. Now, four generations later, we are proof that they succeeded
in keeping the flame alive.
Carrying the flame, then, means doing anything and everything that keeps
our Armenian Christian heritage going and going strong. We are very fortunate
that there seems to be no shortage of people willing to accept this task.
Everyone in this room still finds fulfillment and excitement in the idea
of keeping our flame alive. That is the first and most important step
in passing the flame. For if we ourselves are not excited by the flame
we have been given, then how can we inspire a new generation to carry
on after us?
At the same time, we need to be conscious of the fact that the privilege
of carrying the flame includes the duty to pass it on. As parents and
elders of our church, I think you understand the truth of that statement.
Our youth need to receive the flame: they need to take ownership and
assume responsibility for the precious treasure of our heritage. And
as leaders in the church, we need to show that we have faith in our youth,
by passing the flame on to them.
Because we are the current leaders of our church, it must begin with
us. In passing on the flame, we will be fulfilling the highest duty of
leadership: ensuring that the flame is carried, in good hands, into the
future. I can assure you, from my meetings with young people throughout
our Diocese, that a new generation is eager, willing, and capable of
doing justice to the task of carrying the flame.
You will meet some of them today. But it will be our task, throughout
this “Year of the Youth,” toseek out, encourage, and prepare these leaders
of tomorrow.
May God bless you all, and may He always bless and protect His Holy Armenian
Church.
Archbishop Khajag Barsamian, Primate
Address to the Delegates of the 103rd Diocesan Assembly
April 29, 2005