I grew up in a small Armenian parish in Indian Orchard that required our limited resources to work together to function as a community. There was no time or tolerance for long-term disagreements. When you live in a community with a small local population, you learn to “count the house” at an early age. Would everyone show up for Sunday school this week? What kind of a turnout would we have at our May 28 celebration? Critical mass was a constant challenge. Everyone was cross-trained in the core work of the church to survive if a few people were unable to attend that week. As I look back on those years, we were a highly functioning community, and our anxiety was probably a reaction to living in a culture with limited resources. Living in that environment also gave us the opportunity to participate in a wide variety of responsibilities.
Young people were encouraged to organize events and participate in weekly, labor-intensive activities such as setting up the Sunday school classrooms and cleaning the church facility. We also had the opportunity to develop public speaking skills by offering greetings during community events and preparing for elected positions. It was under these circumstances that I was first elected as a delegate to the Prelacy’s National Representative Assembly in my mid-20s. The encouragement I received from the elders of the parish gave me the confidence to overcome my inexperience. Having always considered myself a student of our journey, I was quite familiar with the history of the See of Cilicia and the establishment of the Prelacy in 1956-57. Fortunately, I was young enough that some of the pillars who laid the foundation of what we have today were present at the assembly. One of the elders in my community advised me to acquire knowledge to help our people. These were the titans of our foundation. My own father was there during those critical early years of building the Prelacy. I was fortunate to be mentored by several of these leaders, who helped me navigate the tricky waters of communal democracy. Their kindness during those initial years of service significantly influenced my values on the importance of mentoring in our communities.
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My random thoughts regarding the complex and convoluted matter you raise. Stepan Piligian.
Catholicos Karekin I of All Armenians said, “I was not born in Armenia, but Armenia was born in me” and chose to move to Armenia as Catholicos. A few of his spiritual brethren did the same, Arch. Mesrob Ashjian, Arch. Datev Sarkissian. They are interred in Armenia. Asdouats hokininin lousavore.
I have chosen to continue on living in the Diaspora. I do not quote Catholicos Karekin I, because I do not need to long for Armenia from a distance. It is my birthright to move and live in Armenia and contribute to it, as citizens do. But I choose not to exercise my Armenia birth right.
I liken Diaspora to an airplane passenger, who is instructed to wear the oxygen mask first, then to put the oxygen mask on the next person. Regretfully vocal Diaspora leadership is caught in what goes in the Republic of Armenia, instead of what ails Diaspora, and in doing so, ails Diaspora further.
Concerns you raise are valid concerns, of course. But they can be addressed if we as Diasporans unconditionally accept the Republic of Armenian, as its citizens shape it. Perhaps then we may first attend to the various needs of an almost fatally ailing Diaspora and then to the “next passenger” the State of Armenia.