How funny it was, after just last night reading C.S. Lewis on Eros, to see the god Eros portrayed in hundreds of tiny mosaic tiles on the floor of a Roman noble’s home from around 300 AD! This afternoon was spent at the town of Paphos, which was at different times both a Greek and Roman city. The home we visited had floors absolutely covered with these beautiful mosaics depicting scene after scene of mythology; especially prominent was Dionysus, the god of wine and the main deity of the city. We discussed the 3rd love, Eros, and Lewis’ view tonight I really appreciated his perspective, especially in light of today’s culture, which has no less than made romance and sex a god. He speaks of the spiritual significance, both of physical union and the fact that Eros is often the love used to describe our relation to God; Christ and his church, the mystery of becoming one flesh. The lover and the beloved. Our maker is our husband, the Lord Almighty is his name. Glorious! Even so, Lewis explains, we must hold this gift on earth loosely; be able to laugh at it and treat it with levity, for it is comic, unpredictable. It is not the essence of our being. It deserves neither the solemn, hushed reverence it sometimes gets in the church, nor the free, infatuated, full-blown obsession it gets from the world. We certainly must not make it God.
Besides the Eros-depicting mosaics, the city of Paphos boasts an even more significant spot: the Pillar of St. Paul, where he was whipped after sharing the gospel of Christ with the Jews in the synagogue. It was crazy to sit there and imagine, over 2000 years ago, Paul sailing here; how he was opposed by the Jewish leader Elymas, and how by the Lord’s power Paul struck him with blindness (his first recorded miracle), and how this caused the Proconsul of the city to believe in the name of Christ! (Acts 13:6-12). It is honestly amazing to be in the part of the world where my faith had its origins, its first converts, its first missionary travels. Yesterday I wrote about the Icons in Greek Orthodox churches; today I started reading Rowan Williams’ The Dwelling of the Light, Praying with Icons of Christ. His explanation of icons continued to enlighten my understanding. The first one he wrote about, the Transfiguration of Christ, was very interesting to contemplate; he pointed out how the deep reds and blues behind the transfigured Christ, who is emanating light onto Moses and Elijah, speak to the depth of godhood from which Christ comes, which is being revealed in glory and truth. In the transfiguration all of the divine comes crashing in to Christ, in all his wholly human-ness! In this small snippet of time, Peter, James and John, who are trembling on the ground before him, are given a flash of Beyond Time and Space; a flash of Eternal; a flash of Power; a flash of Mighty. Though the scene is not detailed, ornamental or realistic, the truths it points to are profound, the deep, fathomless waters of an endless ocean like that enfolding this island. William’s writing is helping me see how to use these icons as they were intended, and they are so rich. In other thoughts and readings, Anselm, a Benedictine monk, bemoans his hypocrisy: See then, blessed Benedict, how bravely fights this soldier… how much progress your pupil is making in your school; see what a marvelous monk this is, dead to sin and the desires of the flesh fervent and living only for virtue No! You see rather a false monk… dominated by a crowd of vies, burdened with a weight of sin. False to my profession, how have I the effrontery to let people see me with the tonsure and habit of profession when I do not live the life? be appalled, my heart; break forth and cry, O my soul. I long that I may have such honesty, such humility in my prayers before God. Only in fully confessing my total ineptitude, my complete weakness and brokenness and ugly pride before the Lord, do I give him the license to come give me his blessed grace and healing! Father help me. PC: trip advisor.com- this is exactly what I saw today
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At the moment I am on the bus riding through the palmed streets of southern Cyprus, yellow fields dotted here and there with green trees or bushes stretching out to brown hills beyond a salt lake. We just left the Church of St. Lazarus, originally built in the 800s AD and still an active Greek Orthodox church today. Religious history has it that Lazarus came to Cyprus after Jesus’ ascension and become the first archbishop; his bones were in the church (that's crazy! This is the Lazerus whom Jesus raised!), his original sarcophagus displayed down the cold dark steps of a stone underground room. Similar to the Church of St. John the Evangelist which we visited this morning and to the Bellapais monastery of yesterday, was the iconostasis at the front of the church; covering the entire front wall and made of elaborately carved wood but coated in gold, the iconostasis in Greek Orthodox churches is absolutely opulent. Two rows of framed icons (see 3rd paragraph) sit in the curling, flowery gold backdrop; one row is the disciples of Christ, the other is scenes from Jesus’ ministry. Both churches themselves, though not huge, had high ceilings, magnificent wooden beams, and rows of wooden chairs, each person divided by wooden beams going up to head level.
It is such a joy to be amidst so many churches rather than mosques! There’s a sort of internal debate that goes on inside me though as I feast my eyes on these masterpieces of art, ceilings and walls covered with ornamental, colorful icons and gold metalwork,. On the one hand, God’s glory and majesty are fully deserving of such beauty and grandeur in a place of worship! As Mary poured the expensive perfume upon Jesus’ feet and was approved by the Lord, there is something beautiful in these lavish expressions of worship not because they are necessary, but simply because they are praise to Him, and—like the magnificent Greek and Roman temples to their gods—reflect something of his holiness, kingship, and awe. On the other hand, no show of earthly wealth is required for our relationship with and worship of the Lord. My heart tends toward the simple; the veil in the jewish temple was torn at Jesus’ death, the elaborate system of ritual in the lavish center made unnecessary. The early believers met in homes, breaking bread, praying, and learning the apostle’s teaching. For me, not being raised in a Catholic or Orthodox tradition, I find the ornamentation distracting. But what incredible places to visit! Okay, back to the icons. We got to visit an amazing icon museum this morning in Nicosia! Icons are figures of saints, disciples, Mary and Christ, painted onto slabs of cedar which have been covered with gold leaf. The byzantine-era art is done with more rigid brush-strokes and uses the entire spectrum of color, paints with beautiful, darker, natural hues because they were made from eggs, spices, insects and coal. Having read The Life of St. Macrina and learned about her brothers St. Basil and St. Gregory of Nyssa, who were two of the important Cappadocian Fathers, it was so cool to see them in several different icons. The art isn’t something I’ve ever cared for; without bothering to learn about the style and figures it struck me as stiff, ornamental, and almost gaudy. (All that gold!) But what I learned today showed it in a different light! The icons were painted not to be seen, as a photograph, but to be looked through, as a window. They are meant as signs pointing through to something higher, something unseen. In gazing through icons, one is meant to let the image draw your mind to deeper spiritual truths and unseen realities, as we pray and strive for a sanctified life as Jesus and (to a lesser degree) the saints embodied. With this in mind, gazing upon the artwork (which is described as being written, not painted, for it tells story and truth) and praying through the pieces was a truly beautiful and special experience for me. Cyprus is quite unique. It was under Francish rule from around 1200-1480, Venetian control until 1571, invaded by the Ottomans in the 1500s, a British Colony from the 1800s-1960, independent and united until 1974, and now two (depending on which half of the island you ask) supposed countries—with divided governments, border control, two different currencies, two different languages, and even two different sides of the road to drive on. Not a bad place to explore and visit early Christian churches! This trip is giving me such a fuller perspective on Christianity and the early movement shortly after the resurrection of Christ as it spread outward to these eastern cities, church history that is little known or appreciated by many (including myself, until now). But as believers this is our heritage, and very worth studying! Also accomplished: 1) gazed at the rock that is the supposed “birthplace of Aphrodite” across a sun-kissed, sparkly sea 2) visited the ancient city Kyrion; saw beautiful mosaics on a house belonging to an upper class Roman—it bore a very cool Greek inscription which translates “This house was once controlled by silver and gold, but now it is under the protection of Jesus Christ.” How neat is that! Note: photos from yesterday on out are not mine! Taken from friends or the web to continue to give visuals for the imagination since my phone is missing. (PC: Miranda Montroy) Ok, so I’m the kind of girl who likes to get things out of the way really quickly when I like them less than other things. I eat all my veggies first, I run around finishing every scrap of homework and every little thing on my to-do list before I let myself read a good book, and I write in my blog about the important-and-cool-but-not-as-meaningful-to-me things before I dive into what I’m passionate about. So, here’s a couple cool, important things. Actually, I’ll just very briefly mention that we visited Girne Castle, by the very northern coast of Cyprus. There. (Sometimes you just skip the veggies altogether.)
The real draw for me today was our trip to a monastery, called Bellapais Monastery. This beautiful, French Gothic style abbey originated in the 1200’s AD, and was a place of shared communal life for Catholic monks. After the Ottoman invasion in 1570, it came under the use of the Orthodox church, still a home for those following the monastic tradition. What a beautiful way of life that was (and still is for many who choose this today!). Near the beginning of our trip I read The Life of St. Macrina, by her brother St. Gregory, and it showed the simple, pious life that Macrina led. She, her mother, and other young women led a home dedicated to serving the poor, healing, manual labor, prayer, and philosophy in faith. In visiting the monastery today, I got to get a small taste of what this would have looked like. The building itself was simple, but large and beautiful with arches and high, domed ceilings. Hallways, a “kitchen,” and several chapel type spaces centered around a courtyard. The whole complex was in the midst of the mountains, looking out onto the harbor of Cyprus, so it was truly serene. The men who lived there had chickens and other animals, living a simple life together dedicated to God and serving the village around them by giving freely and caring for those in need, living off of their own land and animals. What a contrast that is to today’s bustling, impatient, self-focused world, overwhelmed by the rush of activities, the dings of smartphones, and the consumer mentality. I can honestly say that I would not mind being a nun. I finished Shakespeare’s Othello this morning; it is certainly worthy of being classified as a tragedy. The villain Iago is such a conniving, evil man bent on ruining lives. Though the beginning had seemed to indicate that Desdemona might trick her new husband, she proves entirely loyal and faithful. But Iago, in his greed, anger and pursuit of revenge against Othello for appointing Cassio the new second in command instead of himself, poison’s Othello’s honest, trusting mind against his wife with whispers of infidelity. Othello is a Moor, a black man, and the story is rife with racist comments from other characters (especially from Desdemona’s father, who is unable to fathom that she would actually fall in love with rather than fear this animal, this “black sheep,” unless she had been drugged), though he is a high-ranking and skilled general. But in his guile Othello is quick to believe Iago’s lies and suspect his wife and Cassio of sin, and then rashly initiates strong actions against them that he cannot undo. The web of mistrust and suspicion entangling the characters is tragic. I found it very interesting, though, the double standard which seemed to exist—while the men, it seems were commonly in the company of prostitutes, the slightest suspicion of the women was grounds for severe retribution. The play raised interesting thoughts for me on the nature of commitment and fidelity in Shakespeare’s day, on racism (which is once again quite a prevalent in our culture), and on expectations vs. reality for the different genders. I love Shakespeare. (Don’t you, Dad?) Interesting fact, I lost my phone today! That was a difficulty, shocking, embarrassing realization. As much as that can at first seem like losing an arm or a leg in today’s society, and as frustrating as it was for me, I am praying that God’s will would be done through it. It’s not the end of the world, and I’m actually looking forward to experiencing the rest of the trip through my eyes instead of my phone's camera lens. Praise God for his goodness and faithfulness. Praise God that security and joy does not come from material possessions, but in Him and the joy and peace of his love and his eternal kingdom! He is sovereign. Post Script: About an hour after finishing this, while reading more of my trusty Anselm, I came across these words in a letter he sent to Princess Adaleide and had to add them; so applicable, thank you Lord! "At the end of my letter, I add what I urge you on in them all: despise everything that will have to be left behind, even while you have it, with your whole mind set on things above; and strive only for that which can be kept forever!" PC: trip advisor.com Wow; hours spent in the airport for one short plane ride is somehow exhausting, but it got us from Izmir to the island of Cyprus, landing our class right in the middle of a modern political debate! In 1960 Cyprus gained independence from Britain, but was composed of both Turks and Greeks and formed a democratic government. In 1974, a Greek coup de’etat caused Turkey to send troops into the north, which to this day is a military occupation zone! Today we got to walk through a strip of beach that was lined with beautiful hotels, stores and restaurants— when the soldiers came everything was abandoned, and people thought it would last only a few days. Belongings were left, meals on the tables. To this day people have not been able to return. What was once a gorgeous, popular beach for movie stars and other tourists is now a ghost town, with soldiers still occupying the area; it was unsettling to see.The north part of the island has declared itself the Turkish Northern Republic of Cyprus, its own country, but neither the southern part of Cyprus nor the rest of the world acknowledges their self-declared status.
In happier news, I visited the city of Salamis this afternoon, known as the “City of Barnabas!” Paul and Barnabas (“son of encouragement”) came to Cyprus and went all through the island preaching the good news, as far as the south-west town of Paphos (see Acts 13-15)! We saw a Roman gymnasium and baths, as well as a large theater. We got to see a little church where Barnabas’ body is kept. It’s honestly hard to wrap my head around being in these cities of so long ago where Paul and Barnabas shared the good news of Jesus Christ with people on this island for the very first time, so shortly after the resurrection and ascension of the Lord himself. Incredible. C.S. Lewis’ Four Loves continues to be such a beautiful read and subject for discussion. Our class unfolded his section on philia, or friendship, tonight. I love his description of the relationship—though companions are formed amongst several people involved in a common activity, friendship forms when two or more find that they share an even deeper connection; it’s a moment of “you too? I had no idea!” Perhaps paralleling Aristotle’s conception of friendships of virtue, friends share a common view of the good, something greater and beyond themselves for which they are striving. Unlike lovers, whom Lewis pictures as face to face, friends are pictured side by side in a common journey. Although I believe Lewis neglects the significance of individual lives and their particulars in his elevation of “the common goal,” his work is a very worthwhile treatment of the subject, and I highly recommend the work. Love is such a niggly thing. The word is ambiguous, at once both tossed around and carefully guarded. Wrapped up in it are emotions, intellectual perceptions, desires, experiences, and often pain. Love is one of those great themes of literature, because it is one of the great themes of human existence. It is a part of who we are because that’s how God made us to be, because in the perfect, wholly pure way, that’s who He is. I was so thoroughly stunned and blessed this past semester by reading Troilus and Criseyde, Chaucer’s famous love story in which mad passion turns to physical affair and then deep depression in human betrayal. What blessed me was Chaucer’s exhortation at the end: “O all you fresh young people, give your love to Him who, for pure love, first died upon a cross then rose again and sits in heaven on high. He will not play false with anyone, I dare to say, who will lay his heart wholly on Him!” When reading it for the first time, after the emotional roller coaster of the book and of my life, I was nearly brought to tears. What truth. What an anchor for the soul. I want to end with some words from Anselm’s twelfth prayer that touched me; may this become true in our lives. …the sweet taste of You has aroused desire in me, so that “my soul refuses to be consoled” except by your fullness. Today was a peaceful day on a boat in the Aegean sea. Amidst the sea wind blowing my hair into tangles, the little black dog attracting much attention, and the loud music, I was able to start reading Othello. I’ve only read the first act thus far, but already there are some very intriguing aspects of the work. First of all, it’s so cool that the book is set Venice and Cyprus, the island we’re flying to tomorrow, during the 16th century AD when Venice was at war with the Ottoman Empire and Turks were attacking. Having spent the last 11 days touring Turkey, eating amazing Turkish food, and seeing more archaeological and biblical sites than I knew existed here, I now have a solid frame of reference for the part of the world this story takes place in, and I look forward to making an even stronger connection as we explore Cyprus.
Thus far I have met the main characters; Brabantio’s daughter, Desdemona, has just run away and married Othello on the sly, much to her father’s chagrin. Othello has been called in by the Duke to lend military expertise to the issue arising with the Turk’s attack of Cyprus, and has bade Iago to take care of his new bride. Iago, however, hates the “Moor” Othello, and is plotting to get revenge with the help of Roderigo, who is desperately in love with Desdemona. It’s interesting to note Brabantio’s disgruntled warning to Othello, that if his daughter tricked him, it would not be beyond her to trick Othello as well. Possible foreshadowing there. The young maiden Desdemona fell in love with Othello hearing of his adventures and pitying his dangerous exploits, which led to their very quick and secret marriage; this does not seem to be a very strong foundation. Iago in talking to Roderigo about his lust waxes eloquent how we have reason to rule and balance our passion (like Plato’s Republic), and the marriage of Othello and Desdemona seems to lack this. We shall see as the story unfolds. Anselm’s prayer today (#10) was filled with more of the deep sorrow over sin which eludes many of us, at least to the degree that he possessed it. Where can he hide himself, to whom can he show himself, this little man weighed down by the pack of his sins which he is not able to put off, with horrible and stinking wounds and sores of his sins which he is not able to heal? (Anselm, prayer 11) Just to be clear about the setting, this is a man who was saved and following the Lord. It’s not that he was searching for salvation, but for the total sanctification of his soul! His salvation justified him, but also brought him into a relationship with God that caused him to abhor his continued wrongful acts which were in defiance of his Creator. He laments them; mourns them; begs God for help and mercy. This is my misery, that I am on such friendly terms with the world, and weighed down by so many sins, that I have made myself an enemy of God! (Anselm, prayer 11) Jesus, against whom I have grievously sinned Lord, whom I have wickedly despised Omnipotent God, whose anger I have stirred up by pride… [may] this dead soul which you brought to life, be restored to life nor cease until he is given back to you, living. (Anselm, from prayers 10 and 11) My desire along with Anselm is that this soul, which God already brought back to life when he justified me, would be truly restored to life; that is, the life abundant that flows when I let the Holy Spirit fully cleanse and sanctify my from my putrid sin. Lord, help to me mourn it. God, whose goodness is not exhausted,
whose mercy is not emptied out, whose knowledge does not fail, whose power can effect what you will… (Anselm, Prayer 10) What a beautiful expression of truth to our powerful Lord! What a powerful declaration of identity; there is so much relief and peace in those words of God’s power. The prayers of St. Anselm, which I have been reading daily, are so very rich. He uses beautiful vocabulary and imagery, and the prayers are chock full of scripture. But more compelling to me is the passionate sincerity with which Anselm truly sorrows and despairs over his sin, crying out to the Lord from the very bottom of darkness. He is so very honest. Are we this honest? God gives his grace only to the humble; the forgives only when we confess. One of my greatest struggles is to come to this place that Anselm came to of total wretchedness over sin. Lord deliver me from hypocrisy, apathy and pride! For this is death, not of the flesh, but of the soul. How great and how much worse it is to die that death than to die the death of the flesh. For at the last all who die in human flesh rise again’ but all who die in the spirit rise not. And that death destroys more by taking away a life that perhaps can never be restored. (Anselm, prayer 10) We spent the first part of our morning in Miletus, visiting the theater carved into the side of the hill and then Didyma, where a 10 mile long Holy Road leads to a Temple of Apollo. The temple was astounding. There were stairs leading up to the outer section; the ones in the middle were small, sized for regular people; but the ones on the sides were each two feet tall, created for gods. The entire front part was covered in the enormous bottom sections of columns, probably 7 feet around and spaced every 10 feet, thick on the front court like a forest. Two of the pillars had been completely re-erected by the archaeologists, and were huge. Back in the 400s BC when it was built, seeing the entire section with the pillars full size would have been truly awe-inspiring. Architects and slaves literally spent countless hours, sweat, and blood creating the ancient masterpiece that was the center of their religious life and political pride; and yet even that was not immune to the ravages of time. Today it stands crumbling, cracked, blackened; it is a magnificent relic of the past to those of us looking back, but a far cry from its original splendor. Seeing all these sites is such a reminder that the greatest creations and pursuits of man will not last forever. Everything ages; fades; crumbles; is forgotten. As my professor aptly noted, “this knowledge produces certain responses in different people, some responses being better than others.” For me, this is yet another reminder that this earth is not my home. I have chosen the eternal over the temporal, have been exhorted to store up treasures in a place where they will never fade. When my flesh forgets and clings to earthly pride, desires the honor of people, holds fast to material things, Lord remind me what a vapor this life is! How much more meaningful this life could be if we remembered that it is but a breath and lived solely for the next. The final site of today was my favorite of the trip thus far. We hiked up to Priene; a hot, dusty, steep hike between ancient walls, with the remains of the town all around us. We checked out another enormous mountain-side theater, and then made it to the top; and boy was it worth it! Enormous chunks of pillars were lying in heaps over a huge flat area, perhaps the size of half a football field. And by enormous chunks, I mean “as-tall-as-me” chunks of gray marble with chiseled design. 5 pillars had been fully erected and stood, majestic and tall, against the backdrop of the mountain. Cool breezes were blowing and the tall pine trees around me were such a lush green! I could see down into the patchwork fields of wheat, cotton and olive trees spread before me in the Meander Valley like a quilt. It reminded me of Colorado. At the risk of seeming to over-spiritualize, it really struck me to see that even the greatest work of human hands, done to honor false gods, was absolutely puny compared to the handiwork of the Living Word. What a great God we serve. The sea in Kusadas has a new mood right now; the sky is dark and grey, a thin line of peach the only remaining sign of the earlier glorious sunset. The water is churning and crashing against the rocks.
Rocks. We’ve seen a whole lot of ancient rocks on this trip. (What a segway! I didn’t even plan it.) During our time today in Ephesus we explored and touched and stood upon a whole lot more rocks; a lot, lot more rocks. The city of Ephesus is an enormous archaeological sight! In fact, it’s considered among the top few biggest and best not only in Turkey, but in the world. Which is amazing, because the huge site we walked through, (which has been unearthed and put back together over a period of more than 100 years by Austrian archaeologists), is only 15% of the actual city. The rest is still underground! Ephesus was known as a huge city during its time (most of the ruins and reconstruction pieces we saw were from the 1st and 2nd centuries AD), at 200,000 people it was only slightly smaller than Rome and was the New York or Tokyo of the day. It took 3 hours to get through the whole thing; we saw terraced houses, built on top of each other up the mountain and filled with mosaics and frescoes. We sat in the enormous, 25,000 people theater which Paul was brought to in Acts 19, almost causing a riot. We examined statues of gods and temples of goddesses and family home paintings of mythological figures. We marveled at the city’s highlight- a grandiose, magnificent library, with ornate, lavish, curling carvings in the marble pillars and roof, probably 5 stories tall! The library, and what it represented, really caught my attention. Our guide explained Sophia, Arete, Ennoia, and Epistome, which truly embodied the library’s significance- Wisdom, Virtue, Insight, and Knowledge. This ancient Roman world was such a fountain of intellectual and philosophical pursuit and excellence. Indeed, I find myself so closely identifying with this age-old love and search for wisdom (phileo, sophia- philosophy is the love of wisdom), which is especially emphasized and encouraged in my liberal arts education at Baylor. “The examined life is not worth living.” It’s interesting, then, in my school reading in Ephesians, to see how Paul treats this subject when addressing the bustling, reading, studying, thinking town of Ephesus. “With all wisdom and understanding, God made known to us the mystery of his will according to his good pleasure, which he purposed in Christ: to bring unity to all things in heaven and on earth under Christ.” Eph 1:9-10 “I keep asking that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the glorious Father, may give you the Spirit of wisdom and revelation, so that you may know him better. I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know 1) the hope to which he has called you, 2) the riches of his glorious inheritance in his holy people, and 3) his incomparably great power for us who believe.” Eph. 1:17-19 “I kneel before the Father…I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to understand how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge.” What a beautiful contrast Paul gives to the church in this city. In God’s view, wisdom and understanding consists of sharing with us his eternal plan of bringing his people into the love of Christ. Paul prayed that the believers in Ephesus would gain wisdom and revelation for what purpose? To know Christ better. It was not their physical eyes for gazing upon the city’s grandeur and reading in the library that Paul wanted to improve— he asked God to enlighten the eyes of their hearts so they could actually understand the present hope, future glory, and incomparable power that faith in God gave them. He wanted their understanding to center around Christ’s love; a love, in fact, that he ends up finally all-out declaring surpasses knowledge. How convicting it is for me! What an incredible reminder, brought to life by my time in Ephesus, that all the intellectual knowledge, wisdom and understanding in the world is as foolishness before God if I miss out on the real meaning of wisdom: the fear and knowledge and love of my Creator! I struggled this semester with holding intellectual pursuit and the amassing of knowledge too tightly and regarding it too highly. For several months God has been reminding me to ever hold Him and His love as the most precious part of my life, my most important pursuit; indeed, the very meaning of my life and being. This section of my reading in Anselm’s prayers struck me. Again and again I try to shake the lethargy from my mind to prevent my thoughts from being scattered among vanities, but when I have gathered together all my strength I am not able to break out of the shadows of the torpor that holds me because of the filth of my sins. (Anselm, prayer 9 to St. Peter) Father, continue to transform me by renewing my mind. Only by your grace and the power of Your spirit in me can I keep my mind from vanity and give it wholly to You. As I’m writing today I’m sitting cross legged on my bed near our hotel’s balcony, on the 7th floor overhanging the restless, sparkling blue Aegean sea. Fresh breezes are blowing in the open sliding door; the early evening sun is hanging low in the sky, casting a friendly, enveloping glow that soothes but doesn’t burn. The setting here in Kusadasi is probably as close to a Mediterranean paradise as I could possible imagine, and most people I could tell about it would be envious. You know what’s amazing though? As gorgeous and relaxing and self-indulgent this place is (along with many other truly incredible places and sites on this trip), none of it brings that final fulfillment. I never get the “Ah, I’ve finally made it” feeling. Which is honestly a comfort to me, because I know this world is not my home and my life is not about myself. In fact, it’s not even mine. I’ve given it wholly to the Lord to use for His purposes. What a magnificent thing it is to have a complete and utterly filling joy and peace ever welling up within me because of this fact! This trip is an amazing blessing and privilege! But it is not a mountain-top experience, not a pinnacle. It is my intimacy with the Lord and his work in me which is that. Praise God I have Him even when I’m keenly feeling the separation from fellowship with close believing friends.
Anyway, side note done. This morning I experienced the amazing feeling of history and scripture really becoming real and alive to me as we walked through the archeological site of Laodicea, yet another of the churches in Revelation. The city, I learned, was opulent and grand; it had two theaters, one facing where it would get sun in the morning, one facing the sun in the afternoon. It also had two large pools and two agoras; the main street and many side streets were lined on both sides with marble pillars. According to our guide, it endured many earthquakes, and after one of them the emperor of the land offered his financial assistance with rebuilding, but in their pride and confidence in their riches, they refused. The letter to the church in this city takes on a whole new meaning. “You say, ‘I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.’ But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked’” (Rev. 3:17). Standing in the city, we could see on one side still-snow-capped mountains, and on the other, the calcium deposits with the hot springs we walked in last night. It was apparently quite a a big deal that the Laodiceans had pipes with water mixed from the cold and the hot, rather than the usual two separate faucets. It’s quite enlightening, then, to continue reading the letter: “I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either one or the other! So, because you are lukewarm—neither cold nor hot—I am about to spit you out of my mouth!” (Rev. 3:15-16). Wow, it’s literally the coolest thing to see how much more real scripture becomes when you’re standing in it (we got to walk through the remains of the magnificent church there!) and hearing the context! These were real places and real words. I’ve been continuing through Lewis’ Four Loves and was particularly struck today by Affection, or storge love in the Greek. Affection is built on the familiar, the old, the comfortably worn in. “It is not discriminating; there need be no apparent fitness between those it unites; it ignores the barriers of age, sex, class and education.” We can choose our friends, like books, to suit our tastes, but “the especial glory of affection is that it can unite those who most emphatically are people who, if they had not found themselves put down by fate in the same household or community, would have had nothing to do with each other.” I find that this type of love is particularly relevant to me on this trip, as I struggle without those people with whom I share deep conviction and past experiences. I love that Lewis talks about how in Affection, as it grows without us really noticing when it began, we in some measure love those unlike us. I have not discovered any soul friends here, but plenty of comfortable companions who are sharing my journey. Can we find something beautiful in those we do not choose? “In my experience it is affection that creates this very thing, teaching us first to notice, then to endure, then to smile at, then to enjoy, and finally to ‘appreciate’ the people who ‘happen to be there.’ Made for us? Thank God, no. They are themselves, odder than you could have believed and worth far more than we guessed.’” I praise God for teaching my particular self how to love in a new way during this time. I keep telling myself the last couple days, “Ok, this blog post can be a short one. They don’t all have to be long; just do a quick one and go to sleep.” That hasn’t exactly happened! Maybe tonight.
We left Izmir behind this morning and drove first to Sardis, another of the 7 churches of Revelation; long ago abandoned, all that remains is a very impressive archeological site. The first highlight there was a gymnasium (greek word referring to being stripped of all clothing; hence a location where men had vigorous physical training in the nude). From one side all we could see was a giant brick wall as our tour guide explained that Sardis was the capital of the Lydian empire, Ionian greeks over whom Croesus ruled from 560-546 BC before Lydia fell to Persia. (Later the Ionian Greeks would revolt and defeat the Persians at Sardis, before they were beaten again at Ephesus.) As we walked through the archway, however, the enormous room beyond nearly took my breath away! The gymnasium, reconstructed by archaeologists, was huge, with elaborate pillars in both Ionic and Corinthian styles around the walls. The site also contained what was the largest Jewish synagogue outside of Israel, which the Romans allowed to be constructed there; we walked on original mosaic tiles, flowery patterns of stone on the ground from the first few centuries AD. After Sardis we proceeded to a Temple of Artemis. The pillars left standing at this site were larger than any we’ve seen thus far; 6 feet in diameter, shooting several stories into the sky. The grandeur in this temple, made entirely of marble, truly gave me the feeling that I was an ant walking in the home of a giant. The reverence which the ancient Romans gave to the gods of mythology is astounding; what astounded me even more, however, was a small sentence on the information page which said that many temples such as this one were abandoned and destroyed as Christianity arose after the coming of Christ. Is that not amazing?? The life of one man resulted in such heart-change that the pagan worship of literally centuries, along with its architectural feats and monuments, was cast away. What a sign of the power of the true God. "Lord, my strength and my fortress, my refuge in time of distress, to you the nations will come from the ends of the earth and say, 'Our ancestors possessed nothing but false gods, worthless idols that did them no good.' 'Therefore I will teach them- this time I will teach them my power and might. then they will know that my name is the LORD'" (Jeremiah 16:19, 21). We finished the afternoon in Pamukkale (literrally “cotton castle”), where we saw an immense Roman theater that would have sat 15,000, and then walked up and down the vast hills of calcium deposits, which run in the hot springs down the mountains and have turned them a snowy white! With the golden hour giving perfect light to the pale shades of white, peach and red, the walk through the shallow, warm water at one of the most well-known spots on earth could not have been more enjoyable. I’m about halfway through one of Plato’s most famous writings, his Symposium, which, funnily enough, centers on a drinking party in which the attendees amuse each other by giving speeches about love. One of the most interesting concepts is presented by Pausanias, who proposes that in the beginning, people were actually doubled, with four hands and feet, two faces, etc. When they became too powerful, the gods split them in half, and now men and women are forever searching for their other half, the one who will complete them and fulfill their every longing. He essentially redefines love as this search for wholeness. Interestingly enough, this idea from the 400’s BC is certainly popular today; Hollywood, music and literature alike portray that search for a soulmate, the one who is made and destined for you. Even amongst Christian circles, there is some division over whether God has one “right” person destined for you, or if you can choose to build a holy, God-honoring relationship with one of many possible people. What really stood out to me is that this idea of Eros, of love on this earth, is indeed a search for wholeness; but this wholeness can only truly be found in Christ! God ordained marriage as a great mystery which Paul said refers to Christ and the church; the sacrificial love with which the lover lays down his life for his beloved. Our relationship with Christ truly brings us into union with him, as he is in union with the Father. May our discussions and even debates on love always point us to Love himself, through whom all things hold together, the One who sought us, redeemed us and is bringing us by his grace ever closer to the ultimate marriage supper of the Lamb! PS. Well, I guess I didn’t get much shorter. Will reattempt. After visiting a very impressive Roman agora (greek for marketplace, the city’s meeting place and commercial center) from around 100 AD and then an impressive museum of sculpture, ceramics and coins from centuries before Christ’s birth, our group made our way from lunch to what I was most looking forward to today, the oldest church in Izmir that is still active: St. Polycarp Catholic Church, constructed in the 17th century.
The church itself was inconspicuous from the outside; a rather plain looking yellow building with a dark green metal fence around its border. It was quaint and french, in the style of its last rebuilders, but it rather blended into the surrounding buildings. The inside, however, took my breath away. It was the most colorfully and elaborately decorated building I have ever seen, and after the Hagia Sophia that’s saying something! Every single wall and the entire ceiling was covered in colorful renditions of scenes from St. Polycarp’s life, the virgin mother, Christ, and other saints. Chandeliers of hundreds of small pieces of glass hung throughout the chapel, and many statues of various persons were scattered around as well. Lush red carpets with typical Turkish flower designs covered the floors. It was an almost overwhelming visual overload! More impactful for me was the reading for my Christian Spirituality class on St. Polycarp, which included one of his letters and an account of his martyrdom. Polycarp was a disciple of John (the only one of Christ’s disciples who was not killed for the faith), and lived from 69-155 AD, eventually the bishop of Smyrna, which is now Izmir. (Fun fact, Smyrna/Izmir is the only city of the 7 cities in Revelation that still currently has an active Christian community!) His letter read like scripture, similar to the letters of Paul—and indeed he quotes extensively from the gospels and from Paul’s writings. His words are such an exhortation, so sincere; fiery in their weight and conviction, yet overwhelmingly compassionate and gentle. For example, "Let us never relax our grasp on the Hope and Pledge of our righteousness; I mean Jesus Christ, who bore our sins in his own body on the tree…who steadfastly endured all things for our sakes, that we might have life in Him. Let us imitate that patient endurance of His; and if we do have to suffer for His Name’s sake, why then, let us give glory to Him!" Polycarp was eventually martyred for his faith, and the account of his peaceful acceptance and stand for the Lord was beautiful and moving. “Polycarp, just like the Lord, had patiently awaited the hour of his betrayal…” He was brought before the governor in a big arena; as the man continually pressed Polycarp, “take the oath and I will let you go. Revile your Christ,” Polycarp’s response was, “Eighty and six years have I served Him, and He has done me no wrong. How then can I blaspheme my King and my Savior?” It was reported that when the pyre was set aflame, his body did not burn; the soldier had to pierce him through. It’s incredible to me to read of this man’s unshakeable faith and devotion to Christ, devotion even unto death! How far does my own life fall short- it was said that Polycarp, while being led to death, was “overflowing with courage and joy, and his whole countenance was beaming with grace.” Lord, I pray you would continue to grow this kind of heart and spirit inside of me. What an unbelievable privilege it would be to die for my Savior. I long to have this kind of heart the martyrs had: “So it was that, with all their thoughts absorbed in the grace of Christ, they made light of the cruelties of this world…for them, the fires of their barbarous tormentors had a grateful coolness, for…looking up they beheld with inward vision the good things in store for those who persevere.” Wow. Jesus, I pray that every day my body would be a living sacrifice to you; alive yet dying. I desire to be a daily martyr, crucifying my flesh and captivated by the highest light of your infinite beauty and glory. I want to finish with the “postscript” to the account of St. Polycarp’s martyrdom; not only did it make me laugh, but it captured a powerful truth which ought to be always at the center of our lives. "The official responsible for his [Polycarp’s] arrest was Herod; the High Priest was Philip of Tralles; and the proconsul was Statius Quadratus- but the ruling monarch was Jesus Christ, who reigns for ever and ever. To him be ascribed all glory, honour, majesty, and an eternal throne from generation to generation. Amen." |