Home again—that in itself is
grace. After 7 weeks that included an extended stay with family in Kigali, a
brief tourist spin about London, and an incredible week in Istanbul and ancient
Ephesus, home is a very good place to be. Grace abounds. Ever the God-spy, I
sighted grace everywhere we wandered, and seated now in my favorite chair, with
a cup of coffee, I savor the memories.
--Hospitality: We knew that
6 weeks was pushing the limit even for family (maybe especially for
family), but various factors dictated our schedule. In retrospect, we do not
regret it. We were able to enter the routines of everyday life in Kigali and
take our part. In Istanbul, my former college roommate, Barbara Baker, took
time off from her job as a journalist to host us and show us the sights of that
amazing place. Hospitality, a grace-gift, welcomes people in, makes them feel
like their visit is also a gift.
--Intercultural relationships: I
loved being with our son David in Kigali, listening to him converse so freely
in Ikinyarwanda, watching him relate to local Friends believers, appreciating
how much he and Debby have entered this context and made it home. That was also
one of my favorite parts of our time in Turkey—enjoying Barb’s linguistic and
cultural expertise, and especially her relationships with her Muslim neighbors.
I’m seeing again how that when God calls a person to service in another
culture, God gives the gifts that enable that person to learn and relate—and love
the experience. Grace, all grace.
--The antiquity and continuity
of the church: Much of our time in Turkey had to do with antiquity. Ruins,
history and a sense of the passing of time. We wandered the domed halls and
dark stone passageways of the Hagia Sophia. Built during the time of
Constantine, serving as a Christian cathedral for over 900 years, as a mosque
for almost 500 years, now a museum, images of the different religious
traditions seemed to compete for ascendency. We walked the ruins of Ephesus, one
of the four largest cities in the Roman Empire during the time when Paul
planted a congregation there. Long since destroyed by earthquake and wars,
tumbled stones and columns supporting no roof can only hint at forgotten
splendors. The forms of the church pass away, yet its substance remains and
grows and reaches into every corner of the earth with more grace than we can
imagine. Antiquity and continuity.
--Spring flowers tucked into
the ruins at St. John’s Church near Ephesus.
--The Turkish carpet seller
(one of Barb’s friends) who served us Turkish coffee and talked us into buying
a small rug for a large price that we somehow didn’t mind paying.
--Home again in the Oregon
spring.
Thanks be to God.
Cheribim mosaic in the Hagia Sophia
Mosaic icon of Jesus in the Hagia Sophia, my favorite
St. John's Cathedral near Ephesus
In the Istanbul bazaar
Buying a rug from Barb's friend Kalender
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