We bid a sad farewell to Patmos at 8 AM.  It’s not hard to get used to Greek island living—friendly and laid back people, beaches and hills, gleaming white buildings, and tasty food—not hard to take!  But Turkey was calling us back, so we hit the sea and made the four-hour passage back to Kusadasi.

To be honest, my list of things to write about today is shorter due to some unforeseen circumstances.  A couple of my co-travelers are a brother and sister (maybe 19 and 21 respectively), named Jonathan and Jennifer.  They, along with a couple others, rented scooters yesterday to explore Patmos in our free time.  Near the end of the day, Jonathan had a wipe-out on some gravel.  While he’s very fortunate that it wasn’t worse (he WAS wearing a helmet, and it wasn’t a terrible wipe-out), his skin took a real beating.  Shorts, T-shirt, and sandals—More information isn’t needed.  His foot especially got torn up.  The Patmos hospital did a good job of cleaning him up and wrapping wounds, but he’s not got a routine of dressing changes and cleaning wounds.  He’s not walking that well either.  So, a decision was made by Charles and Thomas (a doctor who happens to be traveling with us) that Jon and Jen’s trip is done.  Arrangements were being worked out throughout today to see how they can get home.

I say this just because it affected our day’s flow a fair bit.  We spent time in Kusadasi that we wouldn’t have otherwise so that Jon could get to their hospital for some more attention.  Besides further cleaning, they actually grafted some skin on to his foot and toes to help with the healing there.  During that time, the rest of us were dropped at a local mall.  I thought some people were going to pass out when they saw a Burger King and a pizza place.  Any who know me know that food isn’t that big of a deal to me most of the time.  It just doesn’t do the things for me that it does for a lot of others I know.  Turkish food hasn’t been the greatest I’ve had, but I could happily get by on it for a long time.  Not so for some!  In fact, a few of our crew are downright funny.  Anyway, I wasn’t complaining about a slice of pizza, so we ate.

When we picked up Jon and Jen afterwards, we hit the road to Miletus.  Miletus doesn’t get much mention in the Bible (only once that I know of), but it IS the venue for one of Paul’s passionate sermons, found in Acts 20:13-38.  Miletus is not a very excavated site, so we spent the bulk of our time exploring what IS a very impressive theater, complete with a great relief (carving) depicting the gladiatorial games that were once held there.  As well, this theater was especially impressive in its corridors beneath.  Grand arches and corridors, like the ancient versions of what you might find in modern sports stadiums, showed what a glorious structure this would have been in its day.

Also of fascination was an inscription that Charles pointed out to us on one row of seats.  It read in Greek, “For the Jews and God-fearers”.  Whether that’s speaking of one or two groups is debated, but such a term is familiar to the book of Acts.  Though this inscription is likely from later than Paul’s time, it just goes toward sketching that a Jewish and/or Christian community once called Miletus home.  And apparently they were influential enough to get some decent “season tickets” to the city’s theater.

Further exploration of the site (much of which is flooded right now) showed us the locations of its significant markets as well as where the ancient harbour would have been.  Much like Ephesus, Miletus is nowhere near water today.  The same silt problem that caused Ephesus’ downfall had the same effect here.  The coast now sits 5 miles away.  However, as we walked the area, we saw a stone lion (a very weathered stone lion) that apparently marked the entrance to the harbour in the 1st century.  Translation: After his passionate sermon in Acts 20, Paul’s eyes would have beheld the same lion that mine beheld today.  If only stone lions could talk…

By this time, we were already at 4 PM (I told you today didn’t quite go according to plan), so we hit the road to Izmir (ancient Smyrna), where we’ve sleeping tonight.

Supper was waiting for us when we arrived, as was an evening presentation by Dr. Mark Wilson.  Mark is actually a mentor and teacher to our Turkish guide Dell.  He’s an expert on Christian history, with particular interest in Turkey and its historical sites.  He had been one of the speakers at the Ephesus Meeting last week and had agreed to share something further with us when we were in Izmir.  So tonight was the night.

Right after supper, he shared on the topic of Divine Guidance in the Book of Acts.  Much of what he said wasn’t mind-blowing, but it was a stimulating focus on the role that the Holy Spirit played in how the events of Acts did (and didn’t) play out.  Even a casual reading of Acts (which has long been the favourite book of my faith heritage) makes it blatantly clear that our early brothers and sisters experienced the leading of the Holy Spirit in significant and powerful ways.  As I mentioned a few days ago, I can’t help but think that we need this as much today as they did back then.  Somewhere along my road, I grabbed the idea that such communication doesn’t happen anymore today.  Whether that thought was passed to me in spoken or unspoken ways, I’m not quite clear.  What I am clear on is this: If God no longer communicates with His people through His Spirit, then we may as well throw in the towel.  Left to our own wisdom, innovation, and organization, the church has no chance at being what it was created to be.  So a serious prayer has begun in me these last few days: “Father, fill us and re-fill us with your Spirit.  Flood us and surround us.  Reveal things we cannot otherwise know.  Empower us and lead us.  There is much that we will simply go without if you do not provide it.  And within that ‘much’ is everything that we need to live up to your calling.  So come upon us, Holy Spirit.”

Sigh.

Tomorrow, we depart at 8 AM, and as usual, I’m not in bed by midnight.  Definitely have to drop this habit when I get home, or I won’t make it half a week!  Our hotel here tonight is very comfortable—likely the nicest of the whole trip, so I’ll enjoy it as much as I can in the next 8 hours.  I can’t even tell you what the itinerary is for tomorrow.  I just know we begin with a look at a bit of the ancient site of Smyrna.  After that, we’ll leave Izmir and continue north along the coast.

Grace and peace to anyone reading this.  May you be swept away in a quest to be sensitive to God’s Spirit today too.  Much love from Izmir.

Today’s been another great day… a bit slower than most of the past two weeks.  After a 7 AM wake-up and a quick breakfast, 2/3 of our group grabbed taxis to the south-west corner of the island.  Our destination was a beach called Psili Ammos.

Our taxis dropped us at the end of the road, from which we started our 45-minute hike on a goat trail weaving over and around the rocky hills, and through the rugged vegetation (many prickly!) that cover them.  When we arrived at the beach, we were completely alone.

If we’d wanted just a place to swim or sun ourselves, we could have saved some trouble.  One of the island’s most popular beaches is mere minutes from our hotel.  But we didn’t go to this one for swimming or sunning—we had a specific exercise in mind: A group reading of the book of Revelation.  Besides Patmos being the island where John received his visions, Psili Ammos is thought by many to be the shore on which John stood when he beheld the vision of a beast coming from the sea.  The text makes mention of John standing on the “shore”, with some pointing out that the word carries with it the idea of sand.  There are only two spots on Patmos that are sandy shores.  Most speculate this site to be the more likely of the two options.

And so we sat on that sand.

Reading a half-dozen verses each, around and around our circle we went.  Did you know it only takes 45 minutes to read all of Revelation?  And that’s out-loud reading.  I’m not saying one needs to read 20+ chapters of Scripture a day, but as we moved through the text, it did occur to me that I should really shut my mouth anytime I’m tempted to say, “I don’t have time for that.”

As we read, I also thought this several times: “Huh?  Have I read this before?”  And yes, I have.  I know I have.  I’ve read Revelation at least a few times in its entirety.  But it is a different thing to read a Bible book from start to finish in one setting.  It flows better than when you chop it all up—imagine that!

The group that I’m traveling with has people from all over the board in terms of denominational backgrounds and experiences.  Enough of them come from traditions more liturgical than mine that we’ve adopted some of their practices in our devotional times.  One of them is this: Whenever we read Scripture, it’s followed up by Charles saying, “This is the word of the Lord,” to which we reply, “Thanks be to God.”  I like that.  It sets the Scripture apart, as though they’re worthy of our highest levels of attention, as if the reading of these words is different than any of the other words that enter our ears today—and it should be that way.  Somehow, after reading the whole of Revelation, those words just seemed even more appropriate.  “This is the word of the Lord.  Thanks be to God.”

After a few quiet moments, we simply transitioned into our free time: Swimming in the Aegean Sea.  Yesterday, our Greek guide (named Nicholas, of course!) said this exact sentence: “If I had to characterize the waters of the Aegean, I would say that they are always refreshing.”  Nicholas was very articulate, with great English, so I trusted him.  What I found out this morning is that “refreshing” means flipping cold!  Once the point of numbness was surpassed, refreshment was found… if hypothermia didn’t get you first!

Our “polar bear plunge” was followed by a hike back to the taxis, which returned us to town.  The rest of the day was ours to do with as we pleased.  My “as I pleased” was simple: Eat and drink something good, browse the town on foot, check out the shops, and get a bit of computer/book time.  I’m just nearing the end of my list as I type this, and it’s just coming up on 5 PM.  Supper isn’t until 8 PM (yes, the Greeks like later suppers too, it seems), so time is on my side for now!

Tomorrow will see us return to the Turkish mainland and continue our path back towards Istanbul.  We fly from there only 7 days from now, so it’s time to make sure we’re grabbing all we can from this trip—and I’m not talking about souvenirs.

Wishes of peace from the land of Patmos!

Our 4 AM wake-up call this morning seemed a bit rude. So I slid out of bed, and flipped on my TV. Got myself ready as I caught a quarter of the NBA playoffs—Cavs and Magic, game 4. Grabbed a quick breakfast and headed for the harbour. We had a chartered boat all to ourselves for the four-hour trip to Patmos, one of the smaller Greek Isles. I caught two hours of sleep on a bench before we were gathered together for a little presentation by Rob of some of the historical significance of Patmos as it pertains to the book of Revelation.

A couple simple facts stood out in my mind. One: Patmos isn’t as isolated as I thought. Yes, it’s a long way from the mainland, but one can see other islands in every directon from the peak of the Patmos. Two: John wasn’t exiled here alone. I’d always pictured him wandering a deserted island by himself. But there was a Roman settlement here in the first century, and there are numerous traditions about him teaching and baptizing residents of the island during his exile. The term “exile” is more about the fact that he was separated from the churches that he was caring for back on the mainland, as opposed to sent away to suffer and die alone.

A bus with a Greek guide met us at the harbour, and immediately we began. First stop: The Nunnery of the Annunciation. Traditions of monasticism on Patmos go back to the 800’s, with a major monastery being established here in memory of the apostle John. However, it’s always been very much for men only. The nunnery, which isn’t nearly that old, provides such a spot for women seeking to enter the monastic life or for female pilgrims to Patmos. My impressions of this place aren’t all that profound, but I must say that it is a gorgeous spot. The buildings and gardens are wonderfully peaceful and the views down on to the rest of the island are quite stunning. So even without the historical or biblical significance that other sites have provided, this stop was certainly worthwhile.

Our second stop of the day took us to the Cave of the Revelation. As suggested by the name, the biblical significance of this site was a fair bit heavier than our first stop—this is the cave where it’s believed that John was “in the Spirit” and received the shocking visions recorded in the book of Revelation. Of course, a chapel has been constructed over the site, but stairs lead down into the cave beneath, which is “made up” but not with all the gaudiness of some pilgrimage sites I’ve visited.

On the topic of pilgrim sites, let me say that I’ve never much enjoyed them. Much of what I observed in the Holy Land last year left a funny taste in my mouth. Religious tourism is a strange thing—and it doesn’t always do good things for these sites that are so revered. More than any other feeling, I’ve often found discomfort and awkwardness in these places. I recognize that many take encouragement and inspiration from visiting such places. I’d like to feel some of that myself, but most of the time, I don’t really.

I say all that to say this: There must be something special about that cave of John’s. After some brief information from our guide, we were given 20 minutes to sit or explore or shop or whatever. I sat in the cave for all of it, and I could have sat a lot longer than that. Today, for this fellow, it felt like a holy place. I’ve talked about my cynicism towards holy sites and questions about historical accuracy in an earlier post. That’s fine and good, but it was irrelevant today. A couple thoughts stick with me and I type this now several hours later.

The first is about God communicating with people. Most believers I know aren’t that comfortable with this idea, yet as Charles pointed out today, 2/3 of our Bibles came to us as the result of divine dreams or visions. (Much of that would be the prophets, but when you consider all the books, it’s certainly over half that came about through divine revelation of some sort.) So this book that we (rightly) build our faith upon is a miracle—it springs out of divine encounters. Yet such divine encounters are held by many of us to be “out there”, questionable, and unsettling. Perhaps we believe the Bible writers to have been unlike us in some fundamental way. Perhaps we believe such God-encounters no longer happen today. Perhaps we believe that our call today is simply to “follow the book”. But I’ve got to say: I’m not so sure. I’m not so sure that God gives us any reason to believe any of those three statements as true. And sitting in a cave where God met with a man and revealed Himself just as clearly as He did to Moses on Sinai… that can get a guy to wondering a few things.

The second thought was one of neediness. I preached a year ago for two months on the first three chapters of Revelation (the easy chapters!)—the letters to the seven churches. I love those passages! In them, Jesus addresses specific groups of people in specific circumstances. His words to each congregation are filled with relevance. He says more than once, “I know your deeds.” And surely he knew even more than their deeds. It was from his absolute knowledge of his people that he spoke, certain and clear about exactly the message that the hearers needed.

So sitting in a cave, staring at flames dancing on prayer candles, I wondered: What do I need to hear from Jesus? What does Shannon need to hear? What does my sweet little Emmanuelle need to hear? What does my church need to hear? And I wondered because Jesus knows us too. And he knows exactly what we need to hear and what we need to heed. And Revelation shows him to be serious about speaking such words into our lives.

So I wondered some more… if he had something to say to me, how would he say it? As I mentioned before, I’m not at ease with any theology that suggests that he doesn’t speak personally any longer. If the Holy Spirit is about anything, he’s about dwelling in us and speaking directly to our deepest parts. To deny or minimize that is to undo perhaps the biggest thing that Jesus set out to accomplish.

Next wondering… if Jesus said what I needed to hear most, would I hear it? Do I give him my ear? Do I seek him most? Is he the chief pursuit of my life? If so, I can be confident that I am being united with him, a bond in which communication between my spirit and his will flow freely. But if not, then I stand to be missing the whole point.

When the wondering waned, I simply prayed. It felt free and real—the way prayer should always feel, but doesn’t always feel. You can blame it on the cave if you want, but I don’t believe in holy places, remember? ; )

Next stop: The Monastery of St. John. This fortress-like the structure tops the island (literally) and is home to an active monastic community. Due to personal relationship with the Abbott, Charles had arranged for a personal meeting with one of the leaders. Patmos is one stop on the Greek Isles cruise ship circuit, so each day or two, the island swells with tourists who are dropped off to explore. I couldn’t tell you how many thousand flow through the monastery each year. And we were given that standard tour: The chapel, the museum (its most interesting exhibit was a copy of Mark’s gospel, dating back to the 5th century), and the rest of the grounds. But way beyond the normal tour, we were hosted as guests for lunch. Only 100-200 people each year get that honour, and we were 20 of them today. Now monasteries aren’t known for their food, so the draw was something else… though the food was quite good too. We were given over an hour to dialogue freely with the high priest of the monastery.

Throughout the conversation, we learned that he was 38 years old and had begun at the monastery at age 14. As we asked question after question, this very humble and kind man spoke of everything ranging from prayer to seeking God to the Western church to distractions to humility to his relationship with his “spiritual father” to misconceptions about monasticism to European politics. He was fascinating, and while many of our group were hitting the wall by that time (remember the 4 AM wake-up?), I could have talked with him all day. But the day was slipping by, and we had an invitation to join their 3 PM prayer time, called Vespers.

It was held in the chapel, men and women separated. It was something like an Orthodox mass if you’ve ever seen one: Robes, incense, sung liturgy, and it was all in Greek. I confess: THIS is when I hit the wall! The prayer time lasted for an hour. One hour plus Greek language sung plus one-tonne eyelids equals Jason power-napping. I’m not sure that’s considered prayer, but it’s what I got done for a chunk of the hour. Good thing we weren’t getting marked for it!

Our bus picked us up afterwards for one final stop: The Hermitage of Elias. It’s a small chapel on one of the slightly lower peaks of the Patmos. It’s to commemorate Elijah as the prophet who was taken straight to heaven—there’s a legend about John that says something similar.  (Correction here a fews later: This hermitage doesn’t attempt to connect John and Elijah in any way.  It’s simply named after Elijah, who’s seen as a way-earlier forefather of the monastic movement.  That’s all.) Anyway, the building was locked, but we hiked the 25 minutes up because Charles wanted to do a “What Revelation Means to Me” presentation on the top of this mountain. The hike was great, aside from being over rocky terrain on a narrow path that was surrounded in spots by the thorniest plants I’ve ever seen. Our discussion at the top was great—Charles was rolling, and my pen and paper were smoking just trying to keep up! We sang a sort song that’s been our daily prayer each day of our trip and found our way back down before the sunset put us into darkness.

Getting back to Skala, the town where we’re staying, (there are only three towns on this island of 3000 residents) we enjoyed a delicious Greek supper at a seaside restaurant and were led to our hotel.

Tomorrow morning, we’re meeting at 7:45 to depart for a beach that’s traditionally linked to John’s vision of the beast coming out of the sea. We’ll do a full-blown Revelation reading together before enjoying a swim in the Aegean Sea and returning to town for lunch. We’ve been told the afternoon is ours to do with as we wish. Some guys are renting scooters or motorcycles to explore the island. I don’t know how to drive one, or else I’d join in. No, Shannon, I won’t choose these cliff-filled, winding roads to be my training grounds. For me, it’ll be good ‘ole mountain biking or good ‘ole bus #11 (a cheesy Chinese joke for your feet). Our hotel has a beautiful pool and Skala has a decent-looking beach right in town. A free afternoon on a Greek island… I suspect I can manage something!

I’ll attempt to touch base again before we leave Patmos. The day after tomorrow will see us return to Turkey and continue our way back towards Istanbul. As of today, we’re down to one week before departing for Canada! So I’ll keep taking in all I can and begin anticipating the time to return home as well.

All the best from the Holy Isle of Patmos!

Day off.

After a dozen days of pushing hard, we had a free one in this pretty little city right on the coast of the Aegean Sea.

So what did I do?

• Set no alarm clock (still was up by 8:00).
• Walked to the city center after breakfast; explored on foot for a nearly three hours.
• Came home for a swim and a breather.
• Re-trekked to town to hunt down some lunch; settled on a donair shop in which I was the only foreigner–that’s always a good sign.
• Back to the hotel to catch up on my journal–I was only behind one day, but it “Ephesus day”, and that was no ordinary day.
• Read a couple chapters in one of the books I brought and grabbed another swim.
• Decided to get my blog caught up.
• Tasty supper.
• More computer and book time.

Bed needs to happen pretty soon, as our wake-up call is for 4:00 AM tomorrow to catch the boat to Patmos.

And that’s it… for today.  More from the “holy isle”…

Man.  What.  A.  Day.

Yes, I mean every one of those words.  Whatever I write next, however I describe this day—it won’t be what I mean.  Words are limiting and limited.  But they’re the best we’ve got to work with, so I’ll keep typing.

The morning began at a site known as the Seven Sleepers.  Truth be told, there are a dozen or so sites around Turkey by this name, so the goal here is not historical accuracy.  Basically, these sites commemorate an old legend about some boys (I bet you can’t guess how many!) who feel asleep for a century and awakened to find their world radically changed.  The thrust of the legend is focused upon the vast difference between the days of religious persecution under some Roman emperors and the vast freedoms that came in latter days.  Our stop here was quick and far from profound, but that was first on our agenda.

Our next site, however, was a whole other thing.  Ephesus—in the 1st century, it was the third largest city in the entire Roman empire.  Nowadays, it receives the distinction of being one of the most extensive excavations in this part of the world.  It’s said to receive 1.5 million visitors each summer—some call it the Disneyworld of ruins—and that’s not all good.  But what it does say is that there’s a lot to see here, and I attest that to be true.

We progressed our way through the site over a four-hour period.  It was by far the most crowded stop we’ve made so far, and the heat was intense the whole time.  I’d made the mistake of getting too much sun the day before, so I was more cautious this time around.  Before even entering the site, we passed by the ruins of a shrine that are thought be built upon the grave site of Luke.  Often with sites like that, it’s easy to get skeptical: “How does anyone know where so and so was buried?”  What we fail to understand is that these things are often based on tradition—and I mean traditions that are centuries old, being traceable all the way back to the 2nd and 3rd centuries often.  And while “tradition” doesn’t sound like a very strong word, there is much that is held to have value, which is based on tradition because traditions don’t just spring up from nowhere.  There is often reason to believe that some (sometimes a lot, sometimes a little) fact birthed the “tradition” in the first place.  So it’s not like someone threw a dart at a map to fabricate a tourist spot.  At the same time, it’s no certainty, and certainly not verifiable by DNA or anything.  (But if you have an apostolic hair lying around somewhere, you should probably give it to the archeological authorities just to be helpful.)

Tradition tangent aside, we walked past the site held to be Luke’s resting place, and that’s a bit of a crazy thought.

Entering the Ephesus site, we were guided down what would have been one of the major streets of the ancient city.  Along the way, we checked out an odeum (like a theater, but used for less entertainment and more debates/speeches), Hadrian’s temple (a temple dedicated to Hadrian—remember there’s a whole “emperor worship” thing going on in the Roman empire), and some public toilets (I’m not talking about ones for tourists; I’m talking about the 1st century latrines with fancy marble cut-out toilet seats and everything.  If anyone has seen Beth She’an in Israel, these are like that, just slightly more refined in their style—hey, this is Ephesus!).

Heading up some stairs, we entered an active archeological excavation, where they are restoring some terrace houses.  These are basically the expensive condos of 1st century Ephesus.  They were in the heart of the city (because it’s all about location, right?) and were built into the hillside piled up like a staircase.  Even today, one can see the extravagance that was there.  Rooms are huge, floors were covered with mosaics (many still intact), walls were tiled with marble or painted with images and patterns.  Our leader Charles had never seen these excavations and was like a kid in a toy store (he’s 58), so I was happy to see him so happy.

Just beyond these ancient condos was the major intersection of the city.  And at that intersection was Ephesus’ famous library.  To be clear, larger libraries were found in Asia Minor, but Ephesus’ was significant.  But today, Ephesus’ library is the more famous because its ruins are most spectacular.  If you Google Ephesus images, I’m almost certain that you’ll find the library as the “postcard shot” on the entire site.

Beside the library was the agora (the market place).  This is where we started to pay attention to the story of Acts 19.  It seems very likely that Paul was here, as it this is probably the spot where the silversmiths that Paul so angered did their business.  In Acts 19:29, it speaks of the crowd rushing Paul’s companions into the theater.  That was our next stop.

Sitting in the top rows, we sat together and read Scripture—Acts 19, Ephesians 5, and the letter in Revelation to the Ephesians.  The church here is one of the most intriguing in the NT, it was pointed out, because of how much we’re able to know about them and how we’re able to see a bit of a spiritual continuum of how they did over a span of years from the writings addressed to them.  As well, most would agree that Paul’s efforts here, though strongly opposed, led to some of his most significant fruit.  Sitting in that theater, it was hard to believe that the same seats we filled were filled many days ago with worshipers of the goddess Artemis, filling the theater (and the city) with two hours of shouting: “Great is Artemis of the Ephesians.”  Simply bizarre to me!

One other note of interest is the harbour of Ephesus.  It could be seen clearly from our perch in the theater, and one could imagine travelers like Paul arriving at it and beholding Ephesus in its glory, with the theater and library among the first stunning structures to greet their eyes.  The NT speaks of people sailing to Ephesus.  The problem?  I couldn’t see any water; it’s just dirt.  After the pages of the NT, Ephesus continued to be a significant city (and a port city), but one major cause of its downfall was the silting in of the harbour from a nearby river.  All attempts to deal with this problem failed, and the city faltered into nothing eventually.  Today, the coastline is 6 km from where it was in Paul’s day!

Just before leaving the Ephesus site, we detoured to a seldom visited site at its fringe.  It’s the ruins of a large church.  Within it is a marker for the grave of John—yes, THAT John.  Again, location can be debated if one desires, but the idea that John lived his final days here is sound.  Why?  Because Patmos, to which he was exiled, is easily reached from here.  Upon a death of the ruler who sent John there, he was allowed back to the mainland.  Where to call home?  It’s thought that he pastored Ephesian believers right up to an age around or beyond 100.

Just beyond his grave, we came across a baptistery dating to the 500’s.  Unplanned, this site stimulated a fantastic discussion about the significance of baptism.  I grew up in the churches of Christ—we’re baptism people—but I’ve got to tell you that I heard powerful (I mean very powerful) things today that I’ve never heard before.  I’d love to tell you more, but it’s still brewing in my head, and a sock-blowing-off sermon will be born down the road.  The conversation chased topics other than baptism as well, and I’ve got to say that my soul felt touched among the ruins of St. John’s Church.  A freshness blew through me—a chill almost—and I was moved in considering the hugeness of what God is doing, of what He wants to be doing in each life individually and in our world as a whole.  It was one of those moments when everything goes clear for just a moment.  You can’t catch it, and you can’t keep it.  But it was undeniably there, even if only for a moment.  And it is that peek, even a brief one, that fuels all the searching that follows.  Suffice it to say that there is much searching to come, and I’m grateful for the ways that today provided the fuel for all that’s ahead.

As we left, our eyes were directed down into the valley.  There was the site of the ancient temple of Artemis, one of the seven wonders of the ancient world.  It was said to have 143 columns holding it up—a stunning structure to behold, obviously.  What remains today?  One column with a lonely stork perched on top.  If you care to read a fascinating “story” that speaks of John entering that temple in his later years, go test your Google skills.  It’ll factor into a sermon down the road that will deal with “cosmic conflict” in the early church.

Would you believe me if this took us to our lunch break?!  As I said: Man.  What.  A.  Day.

After dining at a roadside café, we hit the Ephesus Museum—no shortage of things to put in a museum here, I’m telling you.  Rooms were filled with marble carvings of Roman emperors from Hadrian to Marcus Aurelius or Commodus, depictions of gladiator battles, and a statue of Artemis (the regional goddess—remember Acts 19?) from the days of Paul.

On route to our hotel, we stopped briefly at a site thought to be the final living place of Mary, Jesus’ mother.  Why would she have been in Ephesus?  Because her care was entrusted to… who?  Remember Jesus’ words from the cross.  John was to take care of her, and we’ve already said that John was here.  Not surprisingly, this site has become a pretty serious Catholic pilgrimage site, but Charles took the opportunity to speak about Mary and how she is worthy of greater attention among Protestants.  He’s the second major voice that I’ve heard this from in the past 6 months.  He also shared a fair bit of background on how doctrines around Mary developed over the centuries—when one hears some solid historical background, it’s amazing how much more light is shed.  I’m not set to be voicing prayers to Mary; I’m just saying: There’s more to the Catholics’ attention on Mary than some crazy desire to worship “God’s mom”, as some might think.

A quick stop at our hotel gave us just enough time for a clean-up and a supper, before departing again for the Ephesus Meeting.  This annual meeting was planned by Tuktu Tours, who our Turkish guide works for.  It was hosted by a library in Ephesus, founded by a Christian couple to be a connection point for focused biblical studies and archeological studies in the region.  The meeting was an evening of four presentations from four scholars, a couple of whom are renowned in their fields.  All four papers had some connection to Ephesus, Acts, Paul, or something related.  Along with our group, the other attendees were mostly college students on their own group tours.  I’m sure that a number of them weren’t terribly enthralled by the papers—they were pretty serious scholarship.  But I’ve got to say that it was wonderfully stimulating to me—made me remember why I love studying under sharp professors and being pushed to learn and search.  Our own Charles was the final presenter, and he had the whole room walking with him every single word—once again, I was grateful for the chance to be gleaning form him for these three weeks.

We arrived home to our rooms after 11 PM, after putting in a 15-hour day.  Vacation?  Not exactly, but great all the same!

Today (as I write this a day after Ephesus now) is our free day.  We’re in Kusadasi, a beautiful beach town that gets all the cruise ships from the Greek Isles.  So far, I’ve explored most of the town on foot, enjoyed some good food and drink, caught up on my travel journal and email, and had a swim.  For now, I think the pool is calling me again, with some reading to follow.

I trust this finds everyone at home well.  We’re into the second half of the trip here, so the countdown to Canada is now on.  Home will be very sweet to return to, but while I’m here, I’ll milk the experience for all that I can.

More tomorrow from Patmos…