I have thought long and hard about whether or not to write about this topic. But I cannot let this pass without comment.

I am a pastor of an Eastern Orthodox parish in Northern Virginia. I have the best of parishes and situations any priest could ask for. I minister to 15 different nationalities at our parish: Carpatho-Russian, Russian, Ukrainian, Romanian, Antiochian, Egyptian, Lebanese, Palestinian, French, Sicilian, Macedonian, Irish, Bulgarian, Serbian, American, and a few Greeks. All of our services are traditionally in English - although we do toss in a few languages on occassion.

More importantly, nearly half of my parishioners are immigrants to our great nation. The remainder are first and second generation Americans.

One of the joys I am blessed to share with my parishioners is when they receive their Green Card...and when they are selected to receive American citizenship. I have received joyous phone calls - a joy that I cannot describe adequately on this page - when Green Cards are received in the mail.

The voices on the other end of the phone are elated to the point of tears - elated to the point of relief, thanks, and glorifying God. Dreams do come true.

I remember greeting a young couple - a beautiful Indian and Romanian, both PhDs educated in America -  after divine liturgy. I had officiated at their marriage about 9 months earlier and had only seen them intermittently since the ceremony given their residence was in Maryland.  They showed up a unexpectedly, much to my delight.

When I asked them how they were doing, they said: "Father, we wanted to come to church today to tell you we've received our Green Cards!" Their emotion...the joy on their faces...the sheer excitement within them could barely be contained. They were living the American dream.

I have also received the phone calls from parishioners who wanted to inform me that they were going to the immigration office for an interview - an interview regarding their citizenship. They asked me to pray for them. If a person could sweat blood, it was these parishioners who had waited so long and worked so hard.

One particular family comes to mind. Their history is long. Their family was originally from Turkey - albeit they are not Turkish. They had to leave when the Ottomans took control and began 'encouraging' Christians to depart. The family fled from Turkey to Syria - taking only that which could be carried on their backs.

Then Syria was taken over by a dictator and once again the family had to flee, this time to Lebanon. They settled in Beirut, develop a prosperous business, had a wonderful home, and proceeded to raise their family.

But this was for nought. The Lebanese civil war broke out, they spent nights in the cellar with other families avoiding the bombs, mortars, and snipers. The war drove them from Lebanon to Cyprus, a place of refuge and, yet, isolation.

In Cyprus, because they were not citizens, they were not allowed to work - at least not legally. The husband struggled to carry-on in Lebanon and with work outside the country. The wife and children struggled to survive in Cyprus.

The family applied to immigrate to America while in Cyprus. They followed the American immigration rules and they waited and waited and waited. They waited about 7 years and when approved to immigrate, they once again left all they had accumulated and brought only that which they could carry - just as their grandparents had done when leaving Turkey and Syria.

The one constant they had throughout their journey was their church and faith. From Turkey, to Syria, to Lebanon, to Cyprus, to Virginia - they had the church, their beloved church, their life's touchstone.

It was within the last three years, I remember receiving their phone calls, that they were interviewed for and ultimately received their citizenship. They were so proud. So proud that they had a celebration at home to share their joy at becoming U.S. citizens. Their dream was realized. They love America and they thank God daily for allowing them to become Americans.

This was a joy they shared with me. It was my blessing to be a part of their lives.

You might ask, why am I sharing this with you. I will tell you why. On July 4th of this year, at Monticello, President Bush welcomed 72 men and women who were to become U.S. citizens. They hailed from 30 countries. The President referred to the event as an "incredible journey." He is precisely correct.

It was to be a joyous day. I know that type of joy, as I said, I have seen it and shared in the experience. But that joy was interrupted by callousness and liberal self-righteousness that showed no concern for the men and women and their incredible journey.

The Americans who sought to disrupt this event ought to be ashamed, but I suspect they are not. The Americans who did disrupt this incredible journey, I suspect, have no idea what they have done. Their ignorance befits their acts. While the disrupters are, no doubt, not ashamed, they have shamed their nation. They have committed the 'crime' of indifference akin to that which caused my parish family to leave Turkey, Syria, and Lebanon. The disrupters simply did not and do not care enough to show respect for people on an incredible journey. Do we really believe they will care more for our fellow man when they assume political power?