Exploring the Spiritual Journey Through Turkey

“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I’ll meet you there.” ~ Rumi

When I first shared my plans for a tour of Turkey with friends, most reactions were: “Are you sure it’s safe?”, reflecting a common perception fueled by media narratives. Even my doctor expressed his hesitation, mentioning the presence of Hamas, which caught me off guard.

Upon arriving in Istanbul for my welcome dinner, I brought this up with our tour guide, Mehmet. His response was revealing: “Hamas? What fantasy world is he living in?” I began to understand how much misconceptions and media portrayals can shape our views of a country like Turkey, which, despite its Muslim majority, is a place of vibrant history and culture. And as I was to learn over the next ten days, it welcomes travelers.

My motivation to visit Turkey stemmed from a deeper spiritual journey that began during a pilgrimage to Jerusalem sponsored by the Episcopal Church in March 2023. The opportunity to visit ancient Ephesus and the sites tied to the early Christian apostles called to me.

At Ephesus, on a hillside, I found the House of the Virgin Mary, surrounded by pink roses, cypress, and pine trees. According to legend, the Apostle John brought her here for safety and seclusion. I imagined the solitude and memories she must have held as she faced her grief for Jesus. The small altar inside, adorned with a mural of her and her son, spoke of quiet reflection. Visitors light candles and leave messages on a nearby wall. Reflecting on her grief and her journey, I chose to stand in the afternoon sunlight, trying to absorb her spirit in that hallowed place.

Turkey is a land where biblical history intertwines with reality. The Apostles Paul and Peter traveled here over land and sea through Cyprus and to Ephesus. The Apostle John is said to have spent his last days here until he died at the age of 98.

Standing under impossibly blue skies near his burial site, I felt an echo of those who had walked this earth before me. The landscape with its view of the valley below leading to the Mediterranean is rich and peaceful with color and texture, a stark contrast to the worries I had brought along. Was it safe? Was I physically fit enough to endure the long flight (from Philadelphia to Frankfurt to Istanbul), a 7-hour time change, and the lack of sleep?

As I stood on the stone pavilion marking the site of John’s burial, I felt much like I did at the House of Mary. A whisper on the wind, their spirit lingers, if you believe. This is the traveler’s reward. This is why we see the world. Our search for meaning and understanding ends in this place…we hold it close, take it home.

To get to this region, we flew in from Istanbul (this city of 17 million stands at the dividing line between Europe and Asia) and then traveled by bus past olive trees, their silvery-green leaves shimmering in sunlight, and the larger-leafed fig trees.

Along the highway, fields glow with the bright gold Spanish broom flowers, and peach and apricot trees are laden with fruit. A lunch of grilled meats, feta cheese, delicious slices of tomatoes and cucumbers, and lentil soup was served.

Continuing our journey through the Turkish Lake region, we explored Pamukkale, where an almost fully intact coliseum stood in testimony to ancient Rome’s grandeur. The remnants of temples, dedicated to deities and emperors, pointed to a rich tapestry of cultural reverence. Rock concerts have been held here, Mehmet said.

Experiencing the Whirling Dervish ceremony in Cappadocia provided a profound connection to the spiritual heritage of the country. Here, in a 13th-century mosque, male dancers in flowing white skirts embody the mystic principles of love and compassion taught by Rumi, a Persian poet and theologian. The dance is a form of active meditation, and they twirl, one hand raised to the heavens, one hand facing downward to death, their master standing in a black robe in the center. All wear tall tan hats, symbolic of their own headstones.

It struck me how, in this space of ritual, we pursue enlightenment together, regardless of our individual beliefs.

So it is that we meet in the middle, the middle where we all seek love, compassion, and a path toward enlightenment.

Throughout my travels, I sought to understand and respect the cultural differences that defined Turkey—its traditions, its faith, its uniqueness. The call to prayer from the minarets is heard five times throughout the day and night. There is a “sin tax” on wine. It’s forbidden to wear shoes once you walk into the mosques. Many women wear head coverings and require their young daughters to as well. Who am I to judge?

I saw no signs of unrest or danger, only a landscape rich with history and friendly people eager to offer us food and hospitality. Turkey offered me a journey not just to ancient sites, but towards understanding and connection, finding that field beyond judgment, where we all meet.

Author’s Note: I traveled on a solo tour with EF Go Ahead tours. It was the first time I had used this company. A medium luxury service, it offers value for the money. The solo tours do away with the expensive single supplement.