Archbishop Mesrob Ashjian in the plain of Mush holding the Pilgrim's Passport
Archbishop Ashjian with Dr. James Russell and Armen Aroyan in the Old City of Van
Srpazan with Shushan Yeni-Komshian Teager on Nemrut Dagh
By Shushan Yeni-Komshian Teager,
Belmont, MA
Presented at a program organized by Prof. James Russell dedicated to the memory of the Archbishop on December 17 2003 at Harvard University.
My family has had a long association with the Catholicosate of Cilicia in Antelias, Lebanon. From 1920 on, my father, Dr. Hovsep Yeni-Komshian, served five Catholicoses, starting with Sahag Catholicos who came to Antelias from Sis, via Aleppo, to Karekin II, who later became Karekin I of Etchmiadzin. He also looked after the priests and the seminarians. We were often visited by members of the clergy and of course by Archbishop Mesrob Ashjian. "Paris, Bolis, Kilis," he joked," they are all world famous cosmopolitan centers!", Kilis being my father's birthplace.
In November of 1987, when Catholicos Karekin II of Antelias decreed to bestow the distinction of Giligian Ishkhan, (Cilician Prince), on my father in recognition of his life long service to the Catholicosate, the presentation was performed by Archbishop Ashjian, then the Primate in New York. The ceremony took place at a special gathering in my brother's home in Bethesda, MD. The Archbishop's friendly smile and affability were in stark contrast to the dour demeanor of the Surp Khach Church parish council dignitaries who accompanied him. When the Archbishop read the gontag, or decree, accompanying the medal, he emphasized the paragraph recognizing my mother's role as an "arzhanavor goghagits", (worthy consort), and awarded her a medal also. Completely overwhelmed and surprised by the tribute, she was speechless. It was wonderful to note that here were two clergymen, the Catholicos and the Archbishop, who had respect for women and their contributions. Sadly they both have departed from us.
A few years later, in May of 1997, a two week trip to Historic Armenia, organized by Armen Aroyan of The Armenian Heritage Society of Monrovia, CA, gave me the opportunity to get to know Srpazan better. It was a rare privilege to be part of a group that included both the Archbishop and Dr.James Russell. In fact, Armen very appropriately titled the video he subsequently produced: "A Bishop and A Scholar on the Land that Was." A fortnight of travel in a mid-sized bus, shared meals and stays in hotels of varying comforts, provided a lot of togetherness. The Archbishop and Alex, his Deacon companion, always sat at the back of the bus. They were constantly snacking. The Archbishop loved to eat. He especially enjoyed cherez, a mixture of roasted seeds and nuts, the snack of his childhood. Much to the dismay of Jemal, the bus driver, the back of the bus had to be swept very frequently.
Everywhere we stopped, starting with the ruins of the fortress monastery at Hromkla, near Aintab, where Catholicos Nerses Shnorhali lived and wrote in the 12th C., the Archbishop conducted a simple service. Alex carried a little black bag containing a cross, a vial of muron, candles, incense, nishkhars and the Archbishop's 'veghar'. A romantic at heart, the Archbishop would always find some flowers to decorate the makeshift altar, then don his 'veghar', light a candle, burn some incense and conduct a brief service for the repose of souls. At Hromkla we prayed in memory of Nerses Shnorhali and others associated with the site. We also took turns reading sections of Shnorhali's "Havadov Khosdovanim". He later told me that I had had the good fortune to read his favorite part, "Bahaban Amenayni", the fifteenth prayer, that his mother had taught him as a child. The villages near Hromkla had already been evacuated. Since then some of the terrain has been inundated by the waters of the Birejik Dam on the Euphrates. At other stops however, at sites that has been more recently inhabited, during his prayer for the repose of souls, Srpazan would recall the names of friends and acquaintances whose families had lived there before the deportations. His memory was phenomenal, and the simple services were very moving.
One memorable day we visited Havav, near Palu, the birthplace of the Archbishop's mother. He had a rudimentary map of the village and tried valiantly to locate her house, but with no success. However, he did drink deeply from the village fountain, marked on the map, from which she had drawn water. We headed to her church, now in ruins, where we were soon surrounded by the village children. The Archbishop, who always carried candy to distribute to the children, was soon the center of a happy throng. He loved children and they responded to his affection. The Archbishop had lost his father at an early age and was raised by his mother who had instilled the love of learning in her children. Over dinner that evening, he told us how much Havavtsi children in Beirut looked forward to the special day when they were awarded modest scholarships from funds sent to Lebanon by generous Havavtsis who had done well in America. He also told us that his father's family had been cooks in Urfa, hence the family name Ashjian.
At that time his friend Catholicos Karekin I of Etchmiadzin had charged the Archbishop with the responsibility of planning the celebration of the 1700th anniversary of Armenia's acceptance of Christianity as its state religion. The Archbishop had some wonderful ideas for observing the event such as commissioning new music, publishing books, and so on. Above all he wanted to revive the Armenian tradition of going on pilgrimages. The oldest pilgrimage site for Armenians was the Monastery of Sultan Surp Garabed in Mush. Visiting what remained of the monastery was to be a highlight of our trip. The Archbishop wanted to establish a Surp Garabed Pilgrimage tradition similar to the Pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostella in Spain, with special passports for pilgrims, and so on. We did go to Mush, a most unfriendly place, and sat near the bus at the town center as the Archbishop and Armen, with a translator, tried to get the Mayor's permission to drive to the ruins of the monastery, but to no avail. The twenty mile jeep ride, including eight miles over rough terrain through inhospitable Kurdish territory, was deemed too dangerous. Disappointed, we drove away from Mush and stopped in a beautiful alpine meadow beyond the city. There the Archbishop took out a pre-prepared statement establishing the founding of the Society of Surp Garabed Pilgrims. After a simple ceremony, we all signed the document, becoming charter members. I am happy to add that on his second attempt in the following year, the Archbishop was able to get to Mush where he celebrated a simple service. Turkish TV was present and used the occasion to report that the Turkish Government respected all its religious minorities.
In the Cathedral of Ani, Srpazan removed his shoes before he ascended the Bema to conduct a requiem service. For a moment I thought he was getting rid of an annoying pebble in his shoe, until I realized that for him, regardless of its present state of abandonment and disrepair, the Cathedral remained a consecrated site. In the Cathedral we were joined by a group of French tourists we had earlier met in Kars. They were botanists looking for wild orchids in the area. Hearing our singing they were drawn to the Cathedral and wanted to know everything about the service we had just conducted. Whereupon, in excellent French, the Archbishop eloquently explained what we were doing and gave them a brief of history of Ani.
Actually, with his prayers, the Archbishop was trying to re-consecrate the ancient holy sites. Sometimes he anointed a stone with muron, as he did in Hromkla. However, some sites had been so badly destroyed that the Archbishop could not bring himself to pray there. Such was the case in the village of Nareg. He took out an old book by a 19th C. traveler describing the cave, high above the village, where Krikor Naregatsi is said to have written the his last work "The Book of Lamentations". Sunset was approaching, but we had to climb up to that cave. Following the instructions in the book, we climbed the almost vertical face of the mountain and finally got to the cave with its spectacular view of the village of Nareg and the island of Aghtamar in Lake Van. There, special prayers were said and parts of Naregatsi's works were read. Later the Archbishop would chuckle as he recalled the image of Kurdish villagers helping the not-so-hardy members of our group climb the slope.
Although the Archbishop respected everyone, his respect for women and their contributions struck a special chord in me. We spoke about the need for an increased spiritual role for women in the Armenian Apostolic Church and the revival of the tradition of ordained deaconesses. He thought that that day would have to come before too long. On Nemrut Dagh where the only surviving monument can give us an idea of what an Armenian pagan shrine might have looked like, he asked me to sit beside him on a stone throne for a photograph. "Watch out Srpazan, I might become your atoragitz someday," I jested. He said that he would not mind that at all! One cannot help observing that his respect for women and their abilities had something to do with the fact that it was the Armenian Prelacy's Ladies Guild of New York who made possible the renovation of Saint George's Monastery in Mughni, Armenia, in honor of the 35th anniversary of the priesthood of their Prelate, Archbishop Mesrob Ashjian. The renovated monastery was officially dedicated in October of 2000.
Beloved by many, Archbishop Ashjian was a spiritual and outgoing man with a cosmopolitan and inclusive outlook. After his heart attack in Paris in 1995, he was a changed man. As he evolved, he was able to do more and more with his talents. We can only speculate about what else he might have accomplished had he been granted a longer life.