Turkey: foot washing, and more

I keep remembering little vignettes from Turkey, and realizing that it has given me a fuller understanding of the Bible.

Hospitality to a stranger: we were all impressed by the family who hosted our group for one night. While it is true that the tour group compensates them for housing and feeding us, their welcome was heartwarming, and not something that can be bought. After all, how would you like to have 13 guests who don't speak your language, and might not like your food, and don't understand your culture? And I also remember the woman who saw us gaping at her rock house, with two little windows cut into the stone. She ran out and asked (in Turkish) if we wanted to come in and look at her home. I don't know about you, but I would not spontaneously invite a bunch of strangers into my apartment. It was a wonderful experience, to see how cosy a cave can be.
Footwashing: I never really grasped the footwashing story in the Bible. Because I had never really wanted anyone to wash my feet. Now that I've experienced Near Eastern dust, I get the point. You just can't imagine how dirty and dusty your feet get, and how refreshing it is to wash them off.
The shade of a fig tree: In the South-eastern region, where Abraham lived, it is really hot. Every living creature looks for shade. And it turns out that the best shade of all is that of a fig tree, because it has big leaves.
More about Ephesus: I know I already told you about Ephesus, but it keeps popping into my mind -- the fact that it was a wealthy, hedonistic, pagan city. It gives a different picture of what the gospel was competing with.
More about Antioch: I also remember a particular statue of Orontes in the Antioch museum. This statue was a beautiful marble work of art, dating back to the first century. The significance to me was that Orontes was the river god, and the statue indicated how important the god was, otherwise it would not have been honored with that beautiful, expensive statue. And again, it gives the flavor of what Christianity was competing with.
The stars: Since I felt claustrophobic in the tiny cabin in our gulet (a traditional Turkish boat), I preferred to sleep on deck. I've never seen such stars. I thought about Abraham, and God telling him that his descendents would be like the stars in the sky. I thought about psalm 8. There were so many stars that some of them overlapped with each other, making blares of light that I could see even without my glasses. There were so many stars that I actually got up at around 3 in the morning, just to sit and look, and behold. I can't imagine looking at those stars without being overwhelmed with awe at the creation of God.
Communion: ok, this one is stretching a little bit, but I'll try to explain. I've never really considered bread and wine to be core features of a meal. But we made an unscheduled stop at a local village wine festival in Cappadocia, and the only items being served were wine, grapes, and homemade village bread. And I could imagine centuries, and millenia, of villagers sharing bread and wine together.

Goodbye, Aunt Elaine

My Aunt Elaine recently passed away. She was a vibrant, energetic woman, with a lifetime passion for peace. She wore bright colors, laughed with abandon, asked pointed questions and obsessively sketched people, and lived life with zest. She loved to share her interests with people -- whether it was a matter of tofu, or chelation therapy, or erotic art, she couldn't grasp that some people simply had different tastes. Whenever I think of her I still feel like protesting "just because I eat beef and work for a bank does not make me a bad person!" But her overriding theme was working for peace. She boldly went all over the world to advocate for peace.

So in honor of Elaine, I want to talk about peace.

In spite of all the wars that have been fought in the name of religion, God is actually for peace.
The Bible talks a lot about peace. But this peace is more than just an absence of war, it also encompasses the presence of God's kingdom. Isaiah says:

52:7 How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of those who bring good news, who
proclaim peace, who bring good tidings, who proclaim salvation, who say to Zion,
"Your God reigns!"

Earlier, Isaiah gave us a description of what this will look like:

2:2 In the last days the mountain of the LORD's temple will be established as
chief among the mountains; it will be raised above the hills, and all
nations will stream to it. 3 Many peoples will come and say, "Come, let us
go up to the mountain of the LORD , to the house of the God of Jacob. He
will teach us his ways, so that we may walk in his paths." The law will go
out from Zion, the word of the LORD from Jerusalem. 4 He will judge between
the nations and will settle disputes for many peoples. They will beat their
swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks. Nation will not
take up sword against nation, nor will they train for war anymore.

5 Come, O house of Jacob, let us walk in the light of the LORD .

I believe that in spite of the efforts of activists such as my aunt, that the only true and lasting peace will come when the Lord rules and reigns in our hearts, and upon the earth.

So my way of honoring her will be to work for peace in my own way. To tell people about the peace that God brings. To introduce them to Jesus, because Ephesians tells us that

2:17He came and preached peace to you who were far away and peace to those who
were near.

So I'll end with the words of Paul, writing to the Romans:

15:33The God of peace be with you all. Amen.

That's what makes America Great

Yesterday I had an interesting discussion with 'P', an Indian colleague at work.
He asked me if I was happy or sad with the results of the election. I answered him honestly -- I was half happy and half sad. He asked me if I had ever heard the term WASP, and if it was true that the WASP contingent voted for values which caused Bush to be re-elected.

This was way too complex for a sound bite. Finally I told him that the Bible says many things, and that I think it is unbalanced when someone uses the Bible to point a finger at someone else, and says "don't! don't! don't!" without looking at himself and the things he should do. I gave some examples, such as caring for the widow, the orphan, the stranger in our land (i.e. the marginalized).

My colleague was amazed. "I have never heard this before", he said. I have never heard that the Bible says 'do' as well as 'don't'. "

And then I explained that I struggled with what this meant for the election, and that I was actually crying in the voting booth because there was no party I felt I could vote for with a contented heart.

'P' stared at me with a look of amazement on his face and proclaimed "That is what makes America great!" I wasn't quite sure what my crying had to do with the greatness of America, but he continued: "the fact that you find this difficult, but you vote anyway. That is true democracy. That is what makes America great."

Turkey: afterthoughts

It's been about a month since I returned home, and I still am thinking about Turkey a lot. I keep talking about it, and I'm probably boring all my friends. It's funny to see people's reactions. Some are truly interested, but some are disappointed in me when I fail to reinforce their expectations. They would rather hold to their assumptions rather than listen to anything different. Here are some examples:

The food: most of my friends continue to assume that the food is spicy. But in reality, most of the food is not spicy (except for the Adana Kebabs). And they keep saying that I must be relieved that I'm home so I can eat normal food again, while actually I loved the food and was perfectly happy to eat it. Tasty, healthy, and someone else cooked it three times a day -- what's not to like? (We'll skip the topic of food poisoning for now).

Safety: people keep saying that it must be a relief to be home, so I don't have to worry about security. HELLO - I work in one of the 5 buildings targeted by Al Qaida. I felt a lot safer in Turkey than I do every day at work. Even the roadblocks near the Syrian border were handled easily, and did not seem ominous in any way. And the extreme security involved in the flight home made us feel safe rather than nervous.

The dress: people assume that all the women wear a chador or burka (the long black cape seen in Iran and Kuwait, for example). Actually, it was very very rare to see a woman dressed this way. There was quite a variety of dress. Especially in the Eastern regions, the women dress conservatively, with long skirts, long sleeved shirts, and a headscarf, but usually the faces were shown, and there were various colors-- all together a totally different effect from the head-to-toe blackness of a chador.

The attitudes towards us: Contrary to popular expectation, everyone was friendly. I wore my cross, and did not encounter even one nasty look, much less any kind of harassment. Even when we visited in conservative areas where we were inappropriately dressed (shorts and T shirt), no one gave us a hard time -- although sometimes they quietly giggled.

The trip: Was three weeks too long? Not at all -- actually every minute was filled, and I keep thinking about things I didn't get to do. I didn't manage to get to a hamam (Turkish bath); I didn't try the tripe soup (ok, maybe it's not good, but would be an experience); I didn't find a Christian congregation to talk to or worship with; I didn't make it to the spice market; I didn't buy enough souvenirs; I didn't have a chance to just sit and pray in some of the notable Christian sites.

But everyone is right about one thing. I do prefer our bathrooms.