Tags
denizli, Encounters, ephesus, friendship, history, izmir, journal, Niagara Foundation, past, Present, strangers, temple of artemis, Travel, Turkey, World Religions
March 4, 2014: Izmir/Denizli
–Ephesus—
We started off our day with a tour of ancient Ephesus.
Ephesus’s history spans both Greek and Roman times, for it served for centuries as the central hub of early Christian history.
Ephesus is the location of authorship and setting for the book of Acts (as well as much of the New Testament), and the city was home to Greeks, Jews, and Christians for much of its existence. Paul did some of his finest missionary work there, and even before Christianity gained acceptability, clandestine house church services and secret conversion work still thrived.
Paganism was the accepted religion in Ephesus, and emperors and Greek gods alike were worshipped. Artemis, particularly, was sacred to the city; the festival of Artemis was celebrated annually, wherein her statue was removed from her temple and marched throughout the city.
However, after Constantine made Christianity the official religion of New Rome, Artemis’s temple was destroyed. We toured the temple’s ruins this afternoon.
Originally larger than the Parthenon, all that is left of Artemis’s temple is a single column. Her worshippers rationalized the destruction by believing that Artemis had been off empowering Constantine and, therefore, left her temple unguarded. (Still not one of Christianity’s finer hours.)
With Christianity’s legalization, church buildings in Roman Ephesus were built.
We toured the Church of Mary in particular, where the Orthodox/Catholic split began. Jesus’s identity as fully divine led to a schism that stemmed from the propriety of calling Mary the “mother of God.”
Over several centuries in this one city, paganism was replaced as a new religion, for better or worse, went from persecuted to powerful.
Striking locations within Ephesus include the Library of Celcus, which still has an entrance in tact, even if there are no longer books. (Katie and I took many happy English major pictures around the façade.)
The theatre at Ephesus was similarly incredible. For all of Rob’s lectures about Greek theatre history, no diagram can compare to standing in a giant forum, seeing firsthand its scope, layout, and sheer magnificence…not to mention the wonderful acoustics.
Though I’m sure Paul’s Acts has some important New Testament moments set there, more importantly, Elton John recently played a concert in said amphitheater. Now, that’s history.
For all of the incredible sights and historical landmarks of Ephesus, though, I was most taken by the mundane events that also occurred inside these city walls.
Years upon years of daily life happened on the partially excavated streets where we walked. Scores of ordinary people lived lives not entirely unlike our own.
We don’t notice, often, the history in which we inadvertently participate. We go about our business—residing, shopping, bathing, loving—for centuries before future generations take notice and dig up our towns.
None of the Greek men who used the restroom we toured today ever considered how international tourists would one day come into that same facility to study Grecian life. Yet, history has a way of cycling back onto itself. We are fascinated with the past that we presently interpret in order to aid our future…and so on, so forth, for as long as anyone can remember.
–Denizli—
Later, we drove for 2 ½ hours to Denizli, where we’re spending the night.
We also had our second host family dinner, this one with far more guests than the last. Grandparents, parents, four children, and a person or two whom I couldn’t place (every time I turned around, it seemed someone new had arrived), joined us for a delicious meal.
I always find meeting strangers to be an awkward experience, and significant language barriers certainly exacerbate this discomfort.
However, at some point in the night (and damned if I can tell exactly when it is), a change occurs that ushers out the strangeness.
My group and the families we meet are always intent on communicating with each another, but we must bumble through our barriers until we find a connecting point.
But somewhere in Bayleigh’s warm smiles and friendly conversation with shy girls or in Dramell’s lighthearted banter with a young boy, magic inevitably happens.
Eventually, someone picks up a guitar, recites poetry, translates a few words, jokes about Obama, or shows goofy photos, and we all begin laughing in the same language.
We may need translators to understand each other’s words, but the root of our friendships is self-generating and needs no outward assistance.
I’m not sure how lasting our influence will be on these families’ lives, and I don’t know how much of a difference these people will have on me. Certainly, we’ll be lucky if anyone even remembers anyone else’s name.
Our attitudes when approaching new company are always welcoming, and we immediately seek out their best qualities. If nothing else, I’m encouraged to see mutual love offered quickly between total strangers.
If we only strive to meet every new individual with genuine interest and love, then I think we may well make our lives—if not the world—more empathetic.