In the footsteps of St Paul

 Time is passing quickly. My last blog was ten days ago; so since then, we have had two full days off. Each time we repeated things we have done before – we find it difficult to travel to new places, as it’s not always easy or comfortable (we’re not great fans of bus journeys, especially in crowded minibuses!)

 Last week, we went to Foça – ancient Phocaia. It was the base for many sea journeys around the Mediterranean; Phocaians are credited with establishing colonies at Marseilles, and in Spain. It’s still an active port, with numerous small fishing boats, and many tourist boats. It retains many of its 19^th century ‘Greek-style’ houses, and it’s always pleasant to walk beside the sea. There are ruins of a  classical Temple, to which there is no public access; remains of a Genoese fort and an old mosque. All the Orthodox churches were destroyed in a massacre of Greeks at the start of the Great War. But despite its painful history, it is a calm and pleasant place.

This week, we enjoyed our annual pilgrimage to Ephesus; it takes a couple of hours to Selçuk by Izban trains, with a further taxi or minibus journey. But it is a remarkable place – extensive, with some splendid ruins, notably the two theatres, the Agoras and the famous Library of Celsus. A large ruined basilica, dedicated to the Virgin Mary, was the site of the third Ecumenical Council in 431. And of course, one remembers St Paul’s visits and sojourn in the city. The first time we went, in July 2016, its almost deserted, as there had been terrorist attacks and an attempted coup in Türkiye shortly before, and tourists were obviously discouraged. This time it was crowded, with tour parties from cruise ships and elsewhere. But it’s good so many people want to come to this special place.

 We are here to minister, of course, and we have continued with the Sunday Eucharists; attendance is around 30 – some different people each week, and a number of regulars have been away. The fact that many of the congregation do not have good English can be a little inhibiting, as far as preaching is concerned; but there are a number of young university students and others who are eager to learn more. Most people stay in the church hall for an hour afterwards, and some then adjourn to a local restaurant for lunch together. The weekly Bible Study is usually challenging and interesting. There is an enthusiasm, and desire to learn, that one does not always experience in England.

 This area of Izmir, Alsancak, attracts many young people, especially in the evenings; they come to walk and talk,  to go to the bars and cafés. There seems to have been a proliferation of the latter, offering a wide range of ‘Western’ coffees, as well as the Turkish coffee (which we like.) There are often some rather delicious cakes! On the whole, behaviour seems calm and sensible, with little of the rowdiness that can be seen sometimes in British cities. In the same way, there are usually groups of people – often young people – sitting and talking on the Kordon. We always feel perfectly safe. People are friendly and welcoming.

 Izmir has its downsides. Litter is a problem – every morning we see cigarette ends, plastic bags and bottles and empty beer cans all along the Kordon – and in the sea. There is no clearly organised recycling. Domestic refuse has to be taken and thrown into large open wheeled bins in the back streets – where each day it gets sorted by hand by obviously underpaid and under-nourished men, and children. One often sees them dragging loads of rubbish in large sacks on barrows. Traffic in the narrow streets is rather a nightmare. It’s sometimes hard to see what the rules are, cars park wherever they can, and motorbikes go everywhere, including along pedestrianised streets in both directions. Often the bikes are electric, and there are many electric scooters. So no pollution – but more chance of one coming up behind us without warning!

 We’ve also visited a newly opened carpet museum, in Bornova, set in a beautifully refurbished Levantine mansion, I hadn’t realised how many different varieties of carpet Turkey could boast of. It would be interesting to compare designs and methods with those of the famous Axminster carpet weavers.

 Only two more Sundays, and then we pack up and return (though our journey home will be rather complicated, thanks to the train drivers strike!)

 

Getting Settled by the Aegean

 We are settling more into Izmir ways – including starting most days (after Morning Prayer) with a walk along the Kordon by the Aegean Sea before breakfast. We’ve eaten out a couple of evenings – including one strange experience, when I ordered two different dishes, chicken for Jo and köfte for me, only for the waiter to bring two plates of each, claiming that was what I had ordered. How we were supposed to eat two meals is a mystery, but fortunately the manager told him to remove the superfluous plates!

 For our day off last week, we took the tram to Űçkuyular, where there is lovely recreation area around a lagoon. We walked along by the beach, among a variety of semi-tropical trees, with different sea-birds around (including one flamingo). Lots of families go there for picnics and bathing.

 Other leisure activities included our regular Sunday afternoon ‘voyage’ across to Bostanlı by vapur (the water-buses which criss-cross the gulf to and from different areas of Izmir.) We usually treat ourselves to an ice-cream, but this time came across a lovely little café that served excellent Turkish coffee and delicious cheesecake. And we had another coffee one afternoon after spending two or three hours at the really good new Museum of Art and Culture opposite the church. A big improvement on the old one; it was encouraging that it recognised the multi-culturalism of Smyrna’s history, with a number of references and displays of Christian artefacts. (And the tourist leaflet includes a downloadable walk around Izmir’s churches, as well as one around its mosques.)

 We’ve continued with the weekly pattern of Sunday Eucharist, Tuesday Zoom Evening Prayer and Wednesday Bible Study (today we had 8 in the office and 5 on line!) I mentioned last week that Jo and I are older than most of the congregation – but it doesn’t seem to matter, and the younger members (several students at one of Izmir’s universities) are comfortable talking to and sharing with us. Indeed, we had two of the students with us on Saturday afternoon, when we opened the church for visitors – not as many as sometimes, because there were activities around the Kordon (for the 101^st anniversary of Ataturk’s victory over the Greek forces defending Smyrna – after which most Armenians and Greeks were driven out of the city.) 

There are certainly some restrictions on freedoms in Türkiye – the media is inhibited, if not censored, and most institutions have been purged of any critics of the government. But it is a relaxed and friendly country, and always feels safe and comfortable. There are many police in evidence in the streets and on the Kordon – but their presence seems pretty benign. There is no obvious feeling of there being surveillance of the population (there seem to be no more CCTV cameras than in the UK.) Churches are free to gather; some discretion is called for – but that is also true in France. The only change since our first visit is that non-Turks leading Turkish churches have been refused continuing visas.

 Residency permission is certainly getting more difficult: several church members have been unable to gain permanent resident permission, and so have to move between Türkiye and another country on 3-monthly intervals. And in general there has been a strong clampdown on refugees and others without full papers, many of whom have been deported, especially back to Iran. Others have been deprived of any medical care. So it is not all good news. But one church member is finding it absurdly difficult to get a green card to move to the States, where his wife is living. 

 To finish on a lighter note, the church cat, Cleopatra, waylaid us on our way to church on our first morning in Izmir. She welcomes stroking and expects to be fed on a daily basis, something she shares with her ‘understudy’ Henrietta. But we certainly had the impression that she remembered us from last year. So we have had a good ‘welcome back to Izmir’, all round.

Izmir 2023

 

It’s a week since we left Axminster, to travel to London and Izmir, via Stansted airport. So we are now reasonably acclimatised, to being 2 hours ahead of British time, and expecting a normal daytime temperature around 32°C.

Izmir has not changed much in the past 12 months, except that we now look over to a new Museum of History and Culture, in renovated buildings that were formerly a tobacco factory, and the view of the hills to the east is largely obscured by more new tower blocks; so we don’t get such a good view of the rising sun while we say Morning Prayer together.

St John’s has changed a bit. The interior has been re-decorated, and the electrical system replaced, with good new lights. The congregation at the Eucharist on Sunday was about 30, of whom only 4 or 5 were around in our first visit in 2016. There is still a good mixture of nationalities, with native English-speakers a definite minority. Most of the others have quite good English, but some are attracted more by the atmosphere and ‘style’ of the worship. Most people gather for refreshments in the church hall afterwards, and the discussions and conversations continue for up to an hour.

We’ve also shared in one on-line Evening Service, with a congregation of 5, one of whom was in a car in the States; and at the Bible Study 7 gathered in the chaplain’s office and 3 were on-line. How church life has changed since the pandemic (before which hardly any of us had heard of Zoom)!

The mixture of the congregation is always attractive – a foretaste of the eternal gathering of that ‘great multitude that no-one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and in front of the Lamb’ (Revelation 7:9). It’s also challenging, as is the fact that Jo and I are clearly older than most of the church members. It also probably creates some problems in achieving a strong sense of solidarity and belonging; but it’s moving in the right direction, and gives some hope that this is a church with a future.

It's too early to make any real comments on Turkish society. Economically, the last few years have been difficult: inflation is over 30% this year, but the lira has been so devalued against the euro that the price rises make little impact on us – food is still cheaper than in Britain. There are more empty shops than we remember from last year, but some new cafés have opened.

The annual ‘International Fair’ is taking place at the moment, in Kulturpark. There are plenty of food-stalls and market stalls, plus various displays and exhibitions. There are evening concerts. But it’s hard for foreigners like us to navigate, as the only maps are exclusively in Turkish, as are most of the displays – so it doesn’t feel terribly ‘international’.  But perhaps that’s a rebuke to our assumption that everybody ought to speak English!

It is right for us to be here, though we are perhaps more aware of our being older than when we first visited Izmir. Please continue to think of us – and pray for us, if you are inclined to. 

Blessings to all our readers.

Our final week in Izmir

 The past week has, again, been quite busy.

 I had to take a funeral on Wednesday – details of which were very slow in coming (I was getting calls from someone – the funeral director? – in Turkish) until a contact at the Catholic Cathedral called me. So I had less than 10 hours to prepare a service etc. I was told they just wanted prayers by the graveside. They arranged a car to pick me up from the church, and fortunately there was an English-speaking woman also travelling, who could interpret for the Turkish driver. I had no idea where we were going, but discovered that there is a Christian cemetery on the outskirts of Izmir. There were around 30 people waiting; and we had a short service, with some of them, in the very small chapel – which had an altar, and a crucifix. We then processed to the grave, and the interment was very similar to one in England. (So I have now taken funerals in France, Corfu, Germany and Turkey.) This also meant Jo had to facilitate and lead the Bible Study in my place, which was good. I got back to the church in time for the last 25 minutes.

 After all that stress, we felt we owed ourselves a complete day-off, and took ourselves to Foça, a delightful harbour town to the north of Izmir. It’s an ancient site –Greek Phocaia was base for much exploring, and its voyagers went all round the Mediterranean, founding colonies, including Massilia (Marseilles). It’s an attractive town, with a lovely setting. It’s also got some fine fish restaurants, and we enjoyed an excellent meal of fried sardines.

 After a rather slow start, our time in Izmir has gone quickly, and this morning was our final service. The congregation was around 25, the usual mixture of nationalities and languages. Jo and I were probably the oldest people in church. It’s always refreshing to see new people, some just visiting out of curiosity, others more seriously attending. After the service we were asked to pray with a Turkish woman with some problem with muscle pain; and then with two Azerbaijan women who felt they had been put under some kind of curse. Ministering to non-English speakers is always a problem, but we had two excellent interpreters!

 After church, we joined with a few people for lunch at a local restaurant – a nice opportunity to talk and listen. Then a walk by the Kordon, and return to the flat to begin packing, as we move tomorrow to the Ibis hotel, in time for Fr James to return. We fly out on Wednesday morning.

 Initial thoughts: we think we have been able to contribute something to St John’s. People have been very welcoming and receptive, and it’s a refreshing change to worship with keen young believers and seekers, who have probing questions to ask. We shall be glad to be home in many ways, but we will miss many aspects of church life here – though some things about Izmir (noise, dust, crowds, traffic…) we won’t miss so much!

 

 

 

 

OUR WEEKLY PATTERN

I thought we might report on our regular pattern of activities – if only to prove that we’re not here for a holiday! (stimulating though our time here is.)

Sunday worship is obviously central. St John’s has a fixed liturgy (to allow for a Turkish translation on the facing pages and uses a rather mixed hymn book (BBC Hymns of Praise). Choosing hymns is not too easy, as there is no choir to lead, and half the congregation find it difficult to sing English hymns anyway. But it’s always an interesting experience:  most weeks in the congregation there are some young Turks, who have come out of interest or curiosity. Almost everyone comes to coffee or tea, with biscuits, in the church hall afterwards, and most stay for an hour or so.

 There are other activities each week. On Tuesday mornings, Jo and I join the Lighthouse Church for their weekly English language prayer meeting (though half the prayers are in Turkish!). This usually lasts an hour. That evening we have an Anglican evening prayer service – still on-line, partly because the daughter church at Bornova, where this service was held formerly, is undergoing (very slow) restoration. Last week we had four participants beside ourselves – two of them in the USA.

 Wednesday sees the weekly Bible Study. We usually read through and discuss the following Sunday’s lessons, which can provide helpful pointers for the preacher! We meet in the Church Office beside the church, with six or seven people; but it is streamed, and there is usually at least one person joining us on-line. It’s an interesting, and valuable event.

 Jo and I always start the day with Morning Prayer in the flat; we often then walk down to the Kordon before breakfast, usually buying a gevrek (a local version of simit, a sort of bagel) for breakfast, either from a street seller, or from a wonderful bakery round the corner, where one can watch them being made, and baked in a large brick oven, to be sold still hot.

 We haven’t this time yet travelled outside Izmir; we are re-visiting some of the areas in the city we have seen before. Last week, two of the Lighthouse church leaders took us to another district, to an unassuming local restaurant, which produced excellent, traditional bean dishes. It was good to have a chance to talk to them. Alsancak, where St John’s and the chaplain’s flat are situated, is not the most salubrious area, with a wide variety of shops and small businesses among apartment buildings, most of which have five or six floors. It’s busy and crowded; the next street is being ‘improved’ with new paving – with the result that it’s difficult to walk down, and parked cars accumulate a thick layer of dust. Traffic is everywhere; walking on pavements can be hazardous as one is quite likely to be overtaken by one of the ubiquitous delivery scooters.

 We were invited to a delightful wedding last week. One of the Lighthouse church leadership team, a young Zimbabwean, was marrying a girl from Mexico. The service was in St John’s, which was packed, with most of the Lighthouse church members attending; the basically Turkish service was interpreted via headsets in English and Spanish. The bride’s attendants (male and female) danced down the aisle at the beginning – to be followed by the groom and then the bride and her mother; at the end bride and groom danced exuberantly down to music and applause. It was unlike any wedding I’ve officiated at (though the essential vows and blessing seemed to be modelled on the traditional wording of our Anglican service.)

 We do have time for ourselves, though surprisingly little. It remains very hot, which can limit activity, though we aim to walk as much as we can, sometimes going down to the Aegean to see the setting sun. Good cheap public transport makes it relatively easy to get to other parts of the city. Our time here is passing very quickly – only nine more days.

A Rather Unusual Week, part 2

 I said in my last post that the past week has been a bit different.

 While we were reflecting on the death of our Queen, the people of Izmir (most of them) were celebrating the 100^th anniversary of the city’s ‘liberation’ from the Greeks by Ataturk. Large parts of the Kordon were taken over for scaffolding towers with lights, speakers and displays screens. For several days we were treated to loud low-flying fighter planes and helicopters – reaching a climax with the main event on Friday evening, which was attended by many thousands. Part of the attraction was a concert by a highly popular singer. And there were large lorries selling merchandise connected with the armed services. The Turkish flag was everywhere, together with many portraits of Ataturk.

 It's an ambivalent event for some residents, and a reminder of how complicated interpreting history is. In the days of the Ottoman Empire, Smyrna was a multi-cultural city, with various European communities, largely composed of business and trades people. These were the Levantines. (It was the British Levantine Society which first provided an English chaplain for the Anglophones – the list in the church porch goes back to 1636) There were also sizeable French and Italian communities, as well as Greek and Armenian Orthodox from within the Ottoman realms. Indeed, Smyrna was often described as an infidel city, because there at least as many Christians as Muslims – and several Jewish synagogues. The different faiths lived fairly harmoniously together.

However, after the Ottoman Empire fell at the end of the Great War, the Greek government sent troops to secure the Western coastal area and hoped to restore Istanbul to its original Byzantine status. This move was supported by the British and French governments. It did not win favour with Kemal Mustapha (Ataturk), who had risen to prominence with his effective leadership of the victorious Turkish army in Gallipoli. His vision was of a unified Turkey, and when the Greek troops started to move eastwards, to gain more ground, he moved against them, to drive them back, and to secure Istanbul. The final victory was at the Battle of Dumlupinar, on August 39^th, 1922 – and that day is celebrated as a public holiday throughout Turkey. On September 9^th his troops reached Smyrna, and enforced the retreat of the remaining Greek troops. A large part of the centre of the city was destroyed by fire – each side blaming the other for the conflagration. Many Orthodox churches were destroyed, and there is today little mention of the Armenian area, much of which is now a large park – Kulturpark, which each September hosts an International Fair.

 St John’s Church, together with the RC Church of St Polycarp (the oldest church in the city), and some others survived the fire, and it is still the case that Izmir – as it was promptly renamed – has probably more Christian churches than other Turkish cities. I have several times mentioned the general atmosphere of tolerance that prevails in the city. One Greek Orthodox church remains in use, and the Greek Consulate-General has been given a face-lift in recent years. But official histories and museums are very reticent about Smyrna’s long existence as a largely Greek city.

 Ataturk was a moderniser, and no great admirer of Islam. Under his firm hand, Turkey became a largely secular state – or more precisely, like France with its concept of laicité, neutral with regard to religion. The army used to see itself as the guardian of this, and at times this produced a hostility to all religions. The government of Recip Tayyip Erdoğan has been assertive of Islamic values and practice – and this is very visible in the reclaiming of Istanbul’s Ayia Sofia as a mosque. But alongside this, some Christian churches have spoken of a greater tolerance at government level. (St John’s has received funding from the local authority for church repairs.)

A Rather Unusual Week

 

The past week has been one of contrasts – and so will merit two blog posts!

 This first one, naturally, focusses on the death of Elizabeth II, which has touched us all. My initial reflection was that one of my very first memories of anything outside my experiences at home was hearing that ‘the King’ had died – in February 1952. Aged 4, I knew almost nothing about this ‘king’, apart from seeing some photos of him in the newspaper, at something called the ‘Festival of Britain’. But I was aware something significant and sorrowful had happened. That means that I grew up in the emerging ‘New Elizabethan’ age. The Queen was always there, visible in so many ways – on coins, stamps and bank-notes; appearing on papers and TV in countless situations.  As time passed, I became aware of her profound and firm Christian faith and came to admire her integrity and concern for all her people – in contrast to too many of our other public and political leaders.

 Obviously, her death was not given the prominence in Turkish news as in British, or European media. But it was noted. She had made at least one state visit to Türkiye, and had come to Izmir many years ago (in the days when there was a British Leyland factory here, as well as visiting the NATO base.) For most Turkish people she must have been a fairly distant figure. However, on Saturday we held an open afternoon at the church, with a book of condolence waiting to be signed. Not many came, though the Catholic Archbishop wrote a thoughtful letter, and the British Consulate next to the church flew its flag at half-mast. But among those who came, there were two women from established Levantine families, who had been introduced to the queen when she visited the city; and a young man, with British citizenship, who had continued his grandfather’s practice of sending the queen a Christmas card from Izmir each year, which had been acknowledged from the Palace, especially when the queen noticed that the name of the signatory had changed. He brought a lovely cross-shaped wreath to place beside the Queen’s portrait. There was a Kurdish man, who had worked in the hospitality industry; he wrote a long tribute, to the queen’s smile, and her ‘tireless efforts’ for humanity and for peace and was clearly very moved; he also copied out, in Turkish, some words sent by a cousin who lives in Europe. A couple of American Christians, long-standing members of a Turkish evangelical church, commented on Elizabeth’s faith and faithfulness. I had a conversation with an academic at one of Izmir’s Universities, who had been born near Exeter and attended Hele’s Grammar School – which was one of the constituent members of the High School all our children attended! 

 On Sunday morning, like all British clergy, I found myself leading a service which had been re-structured at short notice, and preaching a sermon written the day before, to provide opportunity for thanksgiving for her majesty’s life and expressions of sadness at her death; Jo wrote suitable intercessions, and we tried to fit hymns to the theme. But, unlike my colleagues in Britain, I was leading worship in a large Turkish city, and before a congregation of nearly 40 people, of whom fewer than a quarter (including Jo and me) were British citizens. For as always, the service was a microcosm of the universal church, with an Iranian and Korean sides-persons, Turkish and American readers and musician, and a Lebanese server; the congregation included a family from Iraq, and the usual Turkish members. Our Kurdish visitor came. There were some representatives of the small British contingent at the NATO base, including a young couple only recently arrived from a posting in Kenya. And at the end we British, at least (and I think some others!) sang, for the first time in our lives, ‘God save the King.’

We begin this week with a new monarch and a new prime minister of the United Kingdom. But God is unchanged; and Jesus Christ is the same ‘yesterday, and today, and tomorrow.’

 We begin this week, with a new monarch, and a new prime minister of the United Kingdom. But God is unchanged; and Jesus Christ is the same ‘yesterday, and today, and tomorrow.’