A Lesson from Our Muslim Guide

One of the many reasons I enjoyed our guide, Salih, was his penchant for wearing T-shirts promoting various U.S. sports teams--here, the Wisconsin Badgers, my home state university team! (Salih is a U.S. citizen, and lived many years in the U.S.)

Salih is also a Muslim. Here, in the "Blue Mosque" in Istanbul, he spent some time giving us a brief overview of the basic beliefs and practices of Islam.

The mosque in Islam is basically a house of prayer. Five times a day the call goes out from the minaret(s) of each mosque, calling faithful Muslims to prayer; we heard the call to pray numerous times, including once at 4:30 AM when we slept with our hotel window open! Prayer can be done at home, at work, at the mosque, or whereve one is--but, all Muslims are expected to gather at the mosque for the Friday noon prayer, which often includes a sermon by the imam (religious leader).

Salih commented on the significance of being called to prayer five times a day. For Muslims, that is the most telling mark of their faith because it has daily impact. Imagine stopping whatever you are doing five times between sunrise and sunset to either go to the mosque or find a private place to spend 1o minutes in prayer with the 1.3 billion Muslims throughout the world. "When you are called to prayer five times a day, you don't have time to do anything bad in between!" Salih remarked. (I wonder if the taxi driver who cheated us in Istanbul had prayed that day?)

In the Christian tradition, regular and frequent call to prayer is historically part of monastic practice, but not for all Christians. Certainly we are encouraged to pray. Certainly Jesus teaches us to pray, and assumes we will pray. When his disciples asked him to teach them to pray, he responded, "When (not "if") you pray, say this...." and he taught them the Lord's Prayer.

What if we took that call to prayer seriously? What impact would it have on the lives of people of faith if we stopped whatever we were doing to pray 5 times daily--or even 3 times--or even once? How would it shape our lives? How would we be changed if we regularly, intentionally, turned to God in prayer and remembered how prayer binds us together with other people of faith, in worship and service of a God who bestows forgiveness, mercy and love and calls us to be merciful and loving toward others? What do you think that would do in your life? in our world? I don't know if it would prevent us from doing anything bad, but it would certainly be more likely to keep us connected to the souce of all good!

That's worth thinking about, isn't it?

And--worth praying about!

Needed--More Mystics?

One of the more unique things we had the opportunity to do in our exposure to Turkish culture was to attend a presentation by a group of "Whirling Dervishes".

Our guide, Salih, explained the origin and philosophy of the whirling dervish movement. Originating in the vision of the great 13th century Muslim poet and mystic, Rumi, the "whirling dervishes" were originally a monastic movement within Islam, espeically promiment in Turkey and Persia.

Why are they called "whirling dervishes"? It's because of the slow, graceful dance they carry out for meditative purposes. The word "dervish" is roughly equivalent to the English word"monk". Although there are no longer monastic communities of dervishes, there are still adherents to the dervish practice and philosophy who carry out their secular occupations by day and practice meditative dance evenings and weekends. Whirling slowly, eyes closed, heads often tilted, the dervishes enter a trance-like state in which they seek to achieve union with God and perceive themselves to be at harmony with all people and creation. Their dance is highly symbolic: shedding their black cloaks as they enter into meditative dance, they dress in white robes and tall, wool hats. The hats represent tombstones, and the white robe the garment, in Muslim tradition, that will shroud them in death. It's as if they're dying to self and becoming someone new in union with God in their meditation. (Reminds me of Paul's comment in Romans 6 on baptism as a death of the old self and birth of the new.) In addition to the dervishes' dress, their posture is also symbolic: the right hand is raised and extended upward and outward, in anticipation of receiving whatever God has to offer in the meditaiton; the left hand is extended downward and outward, expressing the conviction that one's union with God is expressed in acts of love and service to others.

And that gives a clue to the dervish philosophy. At the center are denial of self, union with God, and compassion toward others. In addition, the dervishes have always welcomed women among their numbers. And they have taught and striven to practice tolerance for those who are different.

Doesn't it seem like the world could use a little more of that philosophy these days?

As I listened to our guide describe the mystic vision of the dervishes, it struck me that this vision is not unique to Islam. Through the centuries, Christian mystics have also preached union with God and love and tolerance for others. Many Christian mystics--like St. Francis, Hildegard of Bingen, and Meister Eckhart--have advocated and practiced gender equality. As I pondered this further, the question haunted me: "Does the world need more mystics? Does the world need more people devoted to union with God, and love, tolerance, and equality among humans? Does the world need to be reminded that, at the center of the universe is a power, a loving power (God) who is passionate about unity, harmony, justice, and peace?"

I think so!

But I also know that mystics are, often, not well received. They're often considered odd, weird, and so heavenly-minded as to be no earthly good. Mystics have usually been belittled and riduculed. It's not an easy calling, to be a mystic! Perhaps that's one reason there are so few of them!

But perhaps we are being called to pay closer attention to the voice of the mystics among us. Who are those who dare to be "different" out of their passion for union with God? Who are those who are calling on us to see the God-intended harmony and shalom of the universe, and to act as if that is more real than all the hatred and fears that divide us? Who are those whose passion for union with God and harmony in all creation compels others to label them odd and unrealistic?

They just may be the mystics among us. They just may be speaking a word from God. And, in these troubled times, they just may be needed more than politicians, armies, and economic gurus.

The mystics--they just may be the ones who can show the way to the mending of a broken world.

Are we listening?

The Story of Christianity in Turkey - Part II

I promised a Part II!


In Part I, I commented on the long and rich tradition of Christianity in Turkey. Now, we come to Part II.


Do you remember the churches and Christian communities I noted in my previous two posts? In one post, I shared images and reflections about the cave churches in Cappadocia and the "Chora Church" in Istanbul. In Part I, I shared photos and reflections on two of the largest churches ever built--the Church of St. John in Ephesus, and the Hagia Sophia in Constantinople (Istanbul).


Do you know what these four churches and communities have in common? They are no longer in existence as churches, no longer serving Christian communities. St. John Church was destroyed in a 7th century earthquake, and never rebuilt--though it is being restored today for historical purposes. Hagia Sophia was converted to a mosque after the Ottoman Empire conquered Constaninople in 1453, and Christian symbolism covered or painted over; it's now a museum, and some of the original marks of Christianity are being restored--again, for historical purposes. "Chora Church," the one with the gorgeous religious frescos--it's a museum. The Cappadocian cave churches--a museum. In fact, the only signs of an active Christian presence I witnessed in Turkey were the religious orders maintaining the Shrine of Mary in Ephesus and conducting occasional worship there, and the imposing world headquarters of the Eastern Orthodox Church in Istanbul. I saw mosques everywhere, and active churches nowhere.


Modern Turkey is a secular Islamic republic. Its system of government is similar to other nations that have a prime minister and a parliament. There is no official religion in Turkey, though 99.9% of its 70 million citizens are Muslim. Unlike some other predominantly Muslim countries, however, Islamic "sharia" (religious) law is not the law of the land. Turkish law, since the establishment of the republic in 1923 under the leadership of Turkish national hero Ataturk, has been based in European legal traditions.

Today, in this secular Islamic republic, there are about 10,000 Greek Orthodox Christians and 15,000 Armenian Orthodox Christians. That's all that's left of the long and deep Christian tradition in Turkey. And, ever since hearing those figures from our guide Salih, I've been wondering, "What happened? What happened to the ancient Christian tradition in Turkey?"

Now, the last thing I claim to be is an expert in all things Turkish. But, based on my general knowledge of history and the history of relationships between government and religion, I want to suggest a couple factors that may have contributed to the failure of Christianity to thrive in Turkey.

First, there are external factors. For almost 800 years, until the republic was established in 1923, Turkey was ruled by two Islamic dynasties--first, the Seljuks and then, for over 600 years, the Ottomans. Christianity was not illegal, but to remain a Christian was difficult. Think about all the centuries during which the Holy Roman Empire allied so closely with the Roman Catholic Church in Europe--and how difficult it was to be anything other than Christian in that era. Or think about how it's hard to be anything other than a Mormon in Utah. To not be a Muslim in Turkey, or to be anything but Roman Catholic in Western Europe, or something other than Mormon in Utah--it's not illegal, but it's certainly difficult to maintain that distinct identity in the face of huge cultural pressure to conform. That's one external factor that contributed to the decline of Christianity in Turkey.

Another has to do with the aftermath of World War I. My brief exposure to Turkish history while in the country--especially my visit to the mausoleum of Ataturk and the adjoining museum--helped me to realize more vividly than ever before how devastated and fragmented Europe and the Middle East were by World War I. Turkey was parceled out under the control of various European countries, including Greece, France, Italy, and Great Britain, with the Ottoman Empire (taking its dying breaths) nominally in charge. A war of independence against the Greeks followed shortly after WWI, and replican Turkey emerged victorious. Most of the Greeks were exchanged for Turks living in Greece, and the other significant Christian community, the Armenians, were almost all expelled or executed. (The Turks don't like to talk about that.) As a result, only a few Greek and Armenian Christians remained in the country.

Those are the external factors, as I see it.

But there are also, I believe, internal factors that led to the decline of Christianity in Turkey.

Eastern Orthodox Christianity--the primary form of Christianity in Turkey since the Great Schism (split between the Western and Eastern churches) in 1054--has its strengths. One of them, as I noted in Part I, is its powerful way of keeping the story of Jesus and the church through the ages vividly in the awareness of worshipers. It has a long, deep, history of rich worship and vigorous theological tradition. But it has also been very much of an "insider" community, not inclined to eagerly reach out or easily include those who differ. Hence we have so many ethnic Orthodox churches--Russian, Greek, Slavic, Armenian, and so on. Not unlike Lutherans in North America, who have found it hard to break out beyond our Northern European ethnic roots, the Orthodox Church has not made outreach and engagement with the context a priority. So, when Islam became dominant in Turkey, the Church tended to turn inward rather than outward. This may be a tactic for survival--at least for a while!--but it is not a strategy for vibrant growth! Over the centuries, and, especially, with the added challenges of post-WWI Turkey, the church consistently and dramatically lost influence and numbers. Now it is little more than a shell of its once-vibrant self. We'll see if that remains the case.

Well, that's enough though, I'm sure, there's more to the story.

But I can't leave the Story of Christianity in Turkey without posing some questions for Christians in North America, especially Lutherans in the United States (who have slowly but steadily declined in numbers over the past 40 years). Although the political dynamics here are different from those in Turkey, the challenges to the church are similar: In an increasingly diverse culture, where church affiliation continues to decline, what is our future? There may be external factors beyond our control. But what about the internal factors? With God's help, can Christians in North America offer a bold and vibrant witness to the grace, mercy and love of God? Will we engage our context, inviting others to experience the love and forgiveness of God as we have been blessed to know it? Can we break out of our ethnic boxes and reach out to our rich, diverse American culture?

Those are important, crucial questions before the contemporary American mainline church. The unfortunate story of the church in Turkey offers a lesson and a word of caution.

We know what has become of the church in Turkey.

But now the crucial questions are these: what will become of the church in America--the church of which I am a part? What is God calling us--calling me--to do and be in the 21st century? Will we--will I--answer the call, or, like the church of Turkey, will we fade further and further into irrelevance until we become, by and large, nothing more than an interesting piece of history, a museum?

Well......???

The Story of Christianity in Turkey - Part I

It is an astounding and humbling thing to have stood in places where so much early Christian history was lived. The land now known as Turkey is full of places notable in the New Testament and the first millenium of church history--and even more, if we took the time to acknowledge the people, places, and kingdoms in Turkey which are important in the Old Testament. I'll have time and space to mention only some of them here.

Cappadocia, Pontus, Asia (then a name of a Roman province in modern Turkey), Pamphylia, and Phrygia are among the regions named in Acts 2, where the story of the out-pouring of the Holy Spirit and miraculous preaching of the gospel in various languages is reported. They are all regions in modern Turkey.

Below are photos of the ruins of the magnificent ancient city of Ephesus. Left to right, top to bottom, we see the Temple of Trajan, the column-lined main street (paved with marble), the huge ampitheatre, and one of the three greatest libraries in the ancient world (along with Alexandria, Egypt and Pergamon, not far from Ephesus.)

We were there--and so was St. Paul. Born and raised in Tarsus in southern Turkey, Paul preached the gospel at numerous places in Turkey on his three missionary journeys. Two of those journeys began in Antioch, near the Syrian border in southern Turkey--an important early Christian center. Two of those communities, Ephesus and the churches of Galatia, are recipients of letters included in our New Testament. Paul spent extended periods of time there, proclaiming the gospel and encouraging those young, fragile churches to remain faithful. (We need to remember that, for three centuries, Christians were in a tiny and suspect minority; the western half ofTurkey, like much of the Mediterranean world, practiced the paganism of the ancient Greeks and Romans and gave divine status to the Emperor.) Two of the communities in which Paul preached, Ephesus and Pergamom, are among the seven churches--all in western Turkey, near the Aegean Sea--which are addressed in the book of Revelation. Ephesus was the site of the Temple of Artemis (there's an interesting story about that in Acts 19!), one of the seven wonders of the ancient world. Also in Ephesus, as we noted above, were other temples, that magnificent library, and a huge theatre--a common feature in ancient Greek and Roman cities. Clearly, Ephesus was a prominent city in Paul's time.

Ephesus is important not only as one of the churches in which Paul was a significant figure, but as the legendary home of the Apostle John and the Virgin Mary after the death of Jesus. High on a hill above Ephesus stands this shrine, believed by many to be the home of Mary. (I'm skeptical, but that's another story.) Elsewhere in the city are the ruins (destroyed in a 7th century earthquake and never rebuilt) of a basilica dedicated to St. John. Below are a photos of a reconstructed model of the basilica and of the ruins.

Paul was also in Pergamon, and so were we. The ancient city, high on a hill, overlooks a large, fertile valley where a bustling modern city now lies. Here are some of the sites of Pergamon. In addition, the photo of the arches at the top of this post, which were actually originally part of an underground support system for a temple, is also from Pergamon.

In my previous post, I commented on the churches in the region of Cappadocia, and the long history of "underground" Christianity there. Three important early teachers in the church, prominent at the First Ecumenical Council of Nicea (325 A.D.), also in Turkey, lived in Cappadocia and are known to church history as the "Cappadocian Fathers"--Basil the Great, Gregory of Nyssa, and Gregory of Nazianzus. Brenda and I were there, in Cappadocia, where those revered Fathers lived and taught centuries ago!

We were also in modern Antalya, on the Mediterranean coast. Nearby is the city of Myra. Did you know it was the home of "Santa Claus"? The historical St. Nicholas was Bishop of Myra in the late third and early fourth centuries A.D. He is widely revered for his piety, humility, and compassion for the poor. He is especially remembered for his gifts to children of poor families.

Turkey is home to one of the most magnificent churches ever built, the famous Hagia Sophia (or Aya Sophia) in Istanbul; the Greek name means "Holy Wisdom". The Emperor Theodosius ordered and oversaw its construction in the late 4th century A.D. In fact, Aya Sophia and the Church of St. John in Ephesus (6th century) are two of the ten largest Christian churches ever built! Of course, as you may know, Constantinople (as it was known for 1,000 years as capital of the East Roman Empire) was conquered by the Islamic Ottoman Empire in 1453. Subsequently, Aya Sophia was converted into a mosque--hence the minarets you see surrounding the imposing structure.

Also among Turkey's important contributions to the history of Christianity is that it was the site of the first eight of the 21 general councils of the church. These councils, gatherings of bishops from the universal church, have been convened (often, but not always, by the Pope) at crucial times throughout the church's history to settled disputed matters of doctrine and church practice. The first, at Nicea (325 A.D.) has given its name to one of the church's core expressions of the faith, the Nicene Creed. One other council was held at Nicea (787 A.D.), one at Ephesus (381 A.D.), one at Chalcedon (451 A.D.), and four at Constantinople (381, 553, 680-81, and 869 A.D.). In Constantinople, the bishops gathered at Aya Sophia, behind this marble gate, at the end of a concourse in the upper gallery of the basilica:

Well, thanks for taking the time to review with me some of the reasons why Turkey is so important to Christian history. What a blessing it was to visit some of those sites previously known to me only as faraway places with unusual names mentioned in the Bible. Being there, in person, at some of those places, and seeing the context of some key Christian figures, has helped me to feel more personally engaged with the long and deep Christian tradition. For this reason and others, I am grateful for the opportunity I had to visit Turkey!

Now, you may have noticed the title of this post includes the note that this is "Part 1". If you think that means there will be a Part 2, you are correct! More to follow...

Surrounded by the Story

Imagine entering the church building to worship and seeing something like this before your eyes--ancient Orthodox icons, painted as frescos, on the ceiling and wall before you. Here are images of the resurrection, Pentecost, and the reigning Christ, from an old church in Istanbul. This is one of the things the Orthodox do well--keep the church's story in front of worshipers, visually, lest any forget where they are, who they are, and why they are in that sacred space. The "Chora Church," as it's called, is filled with beautiful frescos, telling the story of Christ and the saints, inviting the worshiper to contemplate God through the images--and, then, to gladly and faithfully join the rest of the communion of saints and live the story.

The visual stimulation of these images in the Chora Church was overwhelming and awe-inspiring. Here's a sampling of others, including images of Peter and Paul, other important saints and fathers of the church, and images of Christ and the stories about him:

We saw something similar--but a little more primitive--in Cappadocia. There the church existed semi-underground for centuries. Cappadocia is an unusual and haunting region in central Turkey--and it's mentioned in the book of Acts in the Bible--characterized by unique formations caused when soft, volcanic tufa rock is eroded over time by the fierce winds of the area. Formations like this:

See the photo on the left above above? See the caves? People used to live in them, for months at a time. In this particular area of Cappadocia, a Christian community lived for centuries. They had come there to escape persecution, and still found themselves threatened by enemies. So, from time to time, they went underground. And that's where their churches were, too. And, again, we see that, when the people gathered for worship, they were surrounded by the story:

Imagine that--again and again, gathering for worship, surrounded by the story--the story of God's creative and redeeming love, poured out most abundantly in Christ, and embodied in the lives of the saints through the ages. What do you suppose it did for those ancient Christians to be surrounded by the story, visually and in community with each other, over and over and over. I would think one might begin to embody the story in one's own life!

Now, in Western Christianity we don't make such abundant use of icons and visual images as the Orthodox Christians do. But aren't there other ways we can intentionally surround ourselves with the story? Go to worship--and contemplate the art and symbols you see. Live in and with the Christian community. Let the stories of scripture wash over us, again and again. Learn from the experience of the saints of old--and the saints of today, our brothers and sisters in Christ.

Surrounded by the story. What a marvelous concept!

Isn't there a lesson here for us? Isn't this the question we must answer: if we want to be followers of Christ today, what are we doing to surround ourselves with the story--the old, old story of Jesus and his love?

Think about that...and watch for more of the story in the next blog post.

Home from Turkey (and New York City)

Brenda and I have returned home from Turkey! I won't bore you with the details of our travel complications. Suffice it to say that we left our house at 10 PM on July 24 for the Denver airport, rather than early that morning as scheduled, due to a last -minute flight cancellation. After flying to Atlanta, New York, and Istanbul (including two nights in the air), and a six-hour bus ride, we finally caught up with our tour group a day late, at 6:30 PM (Turkish time--9 hours ahead of Denver) on July 26. And, not surprisingly, we continued the tradition with late flights leaving Turkey, and an even longer delay leaving New York after a four-day stay there. We finally crashed into our own bed on Monday morning, Aug. 11, at 3 AM--and Brenda had the joy of getting up later that morning to go back to work!

Aside from that, it was a wonderful trip. We bussed 2,200 miles through Turkey with 38 other tourists, saw some beautiful countryside, swam in warm waters of the Mediterranean Sea,

celebated Brenda's birthday in Turkish fashion, saw amazing ancient ruins, learned a lot about Turkish history, politics, and culture, ate a lot of kebob, took many, many photos (and bought numerous batteries for the camera!), bought lots of Turkish Delight and other souvenirs, and thoroughly enjoyed the trip. (But did I tell you that getting home to our own bed sure felt good?)

Here's a shot of our group's Turkish celebration

of the birthdays of Brenda and Drew (who share

an August 1 birthday). Doesn't Brenda look

absolutely regal? And how about Drew in that fez?

We were blessed with an absolutley wonderful tour guide, Salih, a Kurdish Turk and American citizen, who speaks excellent English, is full of knowledge and insight into Turkish history, culture, politics, and religion, took excellent care of our group, and did it all with grace and good humor. Thanks, Salih, for enhancing our trip so greatly!

As much as we enjoyed the country, after nearly two weeks in Turkey we were ready to return to the U.S.--but not quite ready to return home. Since we were flying through New York, and had never visited there before, we spend four days seeing the sights of that great and vibrant city. We relaxed in Central Park, visited Rockefeller Center (home of NBC, Radio City Music Hall, and St. Patrick's Cathedral, where we stepped inside just as a wedding was concluding), and saw the city from the Top of the Rock. We also rode the Staten Island Ferry and took a tour of the Statue of Liberty--she looked good!--and Ellis Island, where Brenda's Mom had passed through with her parents and a younger brother as an immigrant from The Netherlands in 1923. We enjoyed immensely the Broadway production of Wicked, were dazzled by the Metropolitan Museum of Art and the Guggenheim Museum, navigated the subway system without any significant snafus, and had a chance to enjoy dinner with Brenda's niece, Megan, and her husband, Ryan.

All in all, it was a great trip (although we're ready for a rest, and not sure how soon we want to embark on a journey like this again!) We saw a lot, learned a lot and, I hope, grew a little in the process. We were reminded, once again, what an amazing world we live in and, once again, how fortunate we are to live in the U.S.A. (Oh, did I mention it was good to get home to our own bed?)

Although our New York visit was primarily for fun, the trip in

Turkey was highly educational--so you'll be reading more about

that in upcoming blog posts.