Maria and I had planned to go to The Virgin Mary's House together.
She had asked me about it, and I made fun of it, and she replied,
“You think religion is a myth?”
Oops. Errr… ah… no that’s not what I meant it all. I am religious. No, that’s not right, I believe in God - but Mary’s house - it's questionable whether it’s even true, and if it is or not - who cares? Okay, who cares was the wrong word to use. Lot’s of people care obviously - I was just getting deeper in this hole - so I offered to take her there. She was bringing Mikali - I hadn't decided who I was bringing - but in the morning we worked it out that it would be just Tomris. I told Anne to turn on the television for a bit, and asked Teoman to help with his sister.
I had done a lot to convince Teoman to stay, to distract Tuana, and prepared food and snacks for Tomris. So, I wasn't to happy with her sudden change of heart. Tuana figured out we had escaped and was at the door crying for me already so I abruptly pulled Tomris into the house, picked up Tuana to take her and announced no television, no neighbor's house while I'm gone.
Then Teoman and Tomris started crying. And it wasn't even 8am.
Fifteen minutes later we were back to the original plan and I was driving away. We stopped for simit for the kids and drove on hoping to the beat the crowds. Kusadasi is about a half hour from Ephesus. The Virgin Mary's house is 7km up the mountain from there on a narrow road nestled amongst tall pines. We were stopped twice by the Jandarma, the military police who checked our IDs - Tolga is always nervous about this for my sake - worried they may find a reason or prejudice against me. These chances are slim, but it is the reason I don't drive outside of Ankara. We had no issues, but were a bit surprised to be checked twice. Indeed, there seem to be too many Jandarma. We learned later that today - August 15th - was the day Mary's ascension is celebrated - we had found the most important day to come.
We parked and walked down the hill, up a path, and past an area where church seemed to be being set up. We entered Mary's house and I took Tomris and Mikali away so Maria could have her moment. She is not religious she confessed (in spite of her Orthodox culture), and her father was an atheist - but she had come here when pregnant with David after learning some tests showed the possibility of Down's syndrome. She had prayed for his health, and now felt the need to give thanks as well. We talked about religion and faith and our families as such places so readily inspire.
I had never been to this place - I suppose because all my relatives here thought it would be so important for me that I had the opposite reaction, not wanting to give it such importance. It's a place. It's a person. It's not God. It's not Jesus. But visiting there, I shouldn't have been so quick to discount the sanctity of a place. In spite of how I feel - people are pilgrammagng here. They are coming into the room. Some quietly in the back, some prostrate on the floor, some with their hands open at the alter of candles. No matter how or why - there is a beautiful vulnerability where all those walls that we put up to survive are replaced at the threshold with walls of Mary's house - whether it's her house or not, whether it's important or not - it's that act, a reprieve from the world and it glimpse into our faith, those gone, those things hoped for, prayed for.
I went to Mary’s house today with Maria. She had asked me about it, and I made fun of it, and she replied,
“You think religion is a myth?”
Oops. Errr… ah… no that’s not what I meant it all. I am religious. No, that’s not right, I believe in God - but Mary’s house - it's questionable whether it’s even true, and if it is or not - who cares? Okay, who cares was the wrong word to use. Lot’s of people care obviously - I was just getting deeper in this hole - so I offered to take her there.
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