Letters from Exile

 68. Letters from Exile (24 April 2026)

Year upon year this awareness is inculcated
in the hearts of the next generation
(24 April 2026 - Yerevan)

It has been 52 days since our “exit” from Beirut at the outbreak of the latest war on Lebanon, at the behest of our mission board. We have settled into a somewhat regular existence here in Yerevan, Armenia, contributing what we can online to the churches and institutions we were called to serve, while also offering occasional support in person to the Armenian Evangelical church union here. There are quite a few around us, clergy and others, whom we know from time they have spent in Beirut. There are also those who have sought refuge here in Armenia, sort-of “exiles” from their homelands.

Though in the distance, Ararat is an integral 
part of the Genocide Memorial
(24 April 2026 - Yerevan)

            “Homeland” is a contested concept for Armenians. The expectation of many non-Armenians is that Armenians the world over, without exception, consider today’s Republic of Armenia as their “homeland”. True, it is the only political entity that can be found on a modern map that provides that particular identity. Yet it also can be seen in the equivalency held by many Armenians as well, insisting that Armenians everywhere must think and feel that Armenia is their only homeland. However, many others, and possibly a majority of Armenians, carry a dual loyalty. They hold today’s Armenia in a special place in their self-understanding, while also remaining deeply rooted in their Diaspora homelands. Additionally, they often bear yet a third, precious “homeland” in their hearts, one that is rooted in the soil of Western Armenia. So, an Armenian who was born and raised in the Middle East can be deeply connected to the Republic of Armenia, visiting it often and caring about its present and future; and said person may also feel a strange magnetic pull when visiting various sites in today’s Turkey and seeing the people and places from which their parents, grandparents and even great-grandparents were driven. They are – that is, we are – ever children of exile, the descendants of those whose roots were pulled from their native soil, whose roots have been repeatedly replanted: belonging to more than one homeland, yet not fully belonging to any of them.

The ECA/AMAA delegation presenting their 
floral wreaths (24 April 2026 - Yerevan)

            Today, Armenian Martyrs’ Day, as we recall for the 111^th time national displacement and loss, and inhabit the collective trauma that is yet a further, possibly universal, “homeland” for Armenians, I cannot help but experience regret. I regret all of the fragile root tendrils my elders carried, tendrils that I could have cared for in my childhood and adolescence, but did not, or was not encouraged to. Because collective amnesia (not just by the perpetrators, but also by those who suffered) is sometimes the only way to deal with a history too ugly to recall. Still, those tender roots that I did cultivate over the years have nevertheless sustained me and helped me to bear days like today, in such a situation in which we find ourselves. One thing that this extended stay in Armenia has shown me (the longest stretch we have ever had in Armenia), is that with God’s help my heart can stretch such that I can call this place “homeland”, while also calling Lebanon “home,” and the United States, too. Each has its own flavor and its own pull. Each has its own frustrations and disappointments. I do not have to close my heart towards two of them in order to embrace the third. This is not a revelation, of course; it is what it means to be a “third-culture” kid. (Look it up.)

Assyrian-Armenians preparing to ascend to 
the Genocide memorial; a shared struggle 
(24 April 2026 - Yerevan)

            Today I joined my Armenian Evangelical colleagues and friends, and mixed together with many Armenians, Armenian-Assyrians, Armenian-Yezdis, along with a smattering of Europeans and Americans (aside from me, that is), to make the long climb to the Genocide Memorial, the “Fortress of Swallows”, and remember, and reconnect, and rededicate ourselves to our rightful place among the living, and refuse to be a relic or an oddity in this world. I pray my descendants, whether by blood or by choice, will honor their ancestors by carrying forward a legacy of wisdom, sacrifice, service, creativity and faith. Easier said than done.

A symbol of what is, can, and should be 
Lebanon: Lent and Ramadan fasting 
on the same days this year 
(21 Feb. 2026 - Port of Beirut)

            Last week we ran into friends from Artsakh, friends we hadn’t seen since before the Armenian population was blockaded in 2023 and then “allowed” by Azerbaijan to abandon their centuries-old homeland. Seeing them and hearing about their children and grandchildren was heartwarming and hopeful, and they seemed to be adjusting, bit by bit, to their new homeland, Armenia. We weren’t completely lost as we conversed, since they spoke to us in Yerevan Armenian rather than their Artsakh dialect. That is, until a friend of theirs from Stepanakert approached, and they immediately switched to the language of their homeland!

LebCat(s) 68 - The butcher's window; 
better than watching CatTV 
(27 Feb. 2026 - Mar Mikhael, Beirut)

            This friend said to me, “I am sad for our lost homeland, but you know what makes me sadder? Seeing the way things are today in Armenia.” I asked him to say a little more, and he obliquely hinted at the divisions that are making Armenians intolerant of one another, dividing into factions and thinking the worst of others. Being that there are parliamentary elections in 44 days, this atmosphere will likely only intensify and will be unlikely to recede following that day.

            As our exile from Lebanon grows longer, we are also concerned about that which is dividing the people in our Lebanese homeland, and the increasing intolerance we are catching wind of. Certainly, nobody wants the country’s misery to continue, misery that has only grown in the thirty-five or so years since the end of the Civil War. But not tolerating unrest and war cannot be at the cost of the intolerance of others, people who also call Lebanon their homeland.

            And as God teaches in such times of exile, we are learning to seek the peace of the cities of our repeated displacements (Jerem. 29.7) and to hold each place in our hearts as a beloved homeland.   [LNB]