Part 2. Sacred Spaces: Sacred Space Usage

(Original Post on Corner Booth Musing's Website)
See Previous Post for Part 1 (Turkey: Intro)

11 days. All of which were spent occupying various sacred spaces. We walked through mosques; through ancient churches that bear the markings of those who walked before us; we walked through ancient ruins of cities that mark historic decisions in the church’s history; we walked underground through an old Roman cistern that is hidden underneath new growth and a new city that thrives above it; we walked through the streets where church’s walls were carefully guarded and locked; we walked through ruins of churches that used to be and those that still want to be; together, we walked.

As we walked through the variety of sacred spaces, there were a lot of emotions and thoughts that passed through my mind.

While we were in Turkey, we explored the cities we were in to find that, to no surprise, there are not very many Christian churches around. The ones that are still commissioned and active churches, are guarded by a metal wall with gates, locks, and alarm systems. Istanbul may have been an exception, as there were a few churches we passed on our walks in the area around our hotel room. On one of these walks around Istanbul, a few of us stopped at a church but were refused entrance into the gates. We think it was because we did not speak any Turkish and the young man at the gate was scared to let any strangers in. Of course, there could have been other reasons, but as soon as he figured we did not speak the same language, he backed away from the gate and shook his head to say no. 

On another walk in Istanbul, we came across the Hagia Triada (Holy Trinity) Greek Orthodox Church. It was the middle of the afternoon, the gates were open, and to our surprise so were the doors to the church! As we walked into the narthex of the church, we were quickly greeted with paintings larger than our eyes could take in at one glance. We walked into the sanctuary, where we were greeted by more indescribably beautiful paintings and icons. Unfortunately, we were not allowed to take photos in this beautiful space. We were also watched very closely.

The first major site on our tour stop was the Blue Mosque. I have seen pictures of mosques before, I have driven by mosques before, but I have never before walked through a mosque before. As you may, or may not know, it is tradition in the Muslim faith for women to cover themselves as they enter into sacred spaces. This means that shoulders are not to be exposed, dresses/pants should be at least knee length, and hair is to be covered. I remember gasping as I took my first steps into this sacred space. It did not feel like sacred space to me, and I did not approach it as if it was such. For me, it just didn’t feel as if I was walking into sacred space, though I fully respect it as such. Instead, I approached it as if it was someone else’s sacred space, keenly aware of their rituals, their traditions, and their practices. 
Because this space is such a high tourist attraction, they seemed to be a little more relaxed with the dress code than other places, though they upheld the standards I mentioned above. The space was beautiful, and it has a rich history in Istanbul, in fact it sits on the site of the palace of the Byzantine emperors. I watched faithful members pray toward Mecca, I watched pilgrims and tourists stand in awe of the beauty that surrounded them. I heard someone say that God deserved the most beautiful place to be worshiped, that God deserved our absolute best. 

Perhaps the most familiar site we visited was the Hagia Sophia. This Byzantine giant sits directly across from the Blue Mosque as if they are in conversation with one another. In fact, while we were there we heard the adhan come from both of these places; they went back and forth with one another as if part of a harmonious song. The Hagia Sophia is a piece of architectural history that I was very familiar with. I remember the first time I studied it in AP Art History in the 10th grade; I fell in love with the iconic mosaics and with the grand stature of the place. But the photos I had seen, or the ones I remember being shown, were from a Christian eye. I do not remember seeing arabic hangings, I do not remember seeing flat paint covering shining gold mosaics, and I do not remember it being so dark. I was surprised at how I felt when I walked through the Hagia Sophia. I’m not quite sure what I was expecting, but what I felt was disappointment. 

The space I walked into was not covered in gold mosaics, but was hidden by a dim and flat yellow paint, hiding the Christian story from which the space has its roots. I will say that there was some scaffolding up, so that may have affected the view. But even the parts that did not have the scaffolding were dim. The space is larger than anyone can imagine and it is easy to feel quite small. This really puts it into perspective when you think about yourself in relation to creation and to the Divine Creator. As you look up, the dome that extends above your head seems to extend into the heavens; it doesn’t, it ends here on earth. Disclaimer: I may not be being totally fair, and this is definitely a reflection after my experience. When you first walk into the Hagia Sophia, in the outer and inner narthex are both waiting to greet you with a lot of Christian mosaics. So yes, as you walk into the space you are walking past, through, and alongside the Christian story.

But, I believe my disappointment came in that the space I walked into was no longer sacred space. It was nobody’s sacred space. Now deemed a museum, the Hagia Sophia is just that–an attraction, a used-to-be church and a used-to-be mosque. I was expecting to meet God in the Hagia Sophia, but instead I met a thousand strangers and walked with a few friends. In the Hagia Sophia we did see some pretty impressive mosaics that were larger than life. We saw red crosses bleeding through the Islamic paint that desired to cover it up. We saw angels and many saints. And I will not make the claim that God was not there, because I do not believe that there is any place that God cannot be, but I think it begs the question as to what it means for the sacred space when a church is decommissioned. Does it make it any less sacred? 

Regardless, of whether or not it is still considered to be “sacred ground,” it was at least once considered to be a place of worship for Christians. For one, to think about what it may have been like to participate in worship in a space like the Hagia Sophia is an unimaginable thing. To see, and almost be able to touch the mosaics that date back to the Byzantine era brings to mind many images of what community life may have been like, what it was like to take a million pieces of glass and put it together to make a beautiful work of art. There’s a sermon even in that; pieces of glass, in all their diversity coming together to create a unified picture. I won’t go down that road on this one! :) 

I feel blessed to be one of the few who have been able to make this pilgrimage, and who have walked on historic and ancient Christian foundations, remembering those who have walked before me and being thankful for those who walk with me. When I think about sacred space, I consider myself a pretty open person. Somehow visiting these historic sites brought up in me different emotions than I had felt before and these are some questions that I wrestled with while in Turkey, and continue to wrestle with as I have transitioned back into daily life. I hope these reflections are helpful and bring to your own mind questions, as well as helpful and thoughtful reflections on the matter!