Iznik, Christianity, and Islam

Yesterday, my class went to Iznik (better known to Christians as Nicaea).  It is famous in Turkey for its tile works, but was notable for me for the Council of Nicaea, the Nicene Creed, and the 7^th Ecumenical Council on iconography.  Today, Iznik is a pretty rundown backwater and many of its pre Islamic historical architecture is destroyed by fire, earthquake, or repeated conquest. 

The Council of Nicaea, convened by Emperor Constantine to discuss the divinity of Christ, took place in the wooden imperial palace that has long ago disappeared.  But the Seventh Ecumenical Council is possibly more interesting.  It was a meeting in the 700’s between the four Patriarchies of Christendom: Rome; Constantinople; Alexandria; and Antioch, to discuss the role that icons should play in the Church.  At this point, Icons had not been used in churches for decades from a fear that the images themselves had become objects of worship.  The decision of the council was that Icons could be revered but not adored.  But according to an inaccurate translation, the Roman Patriarchy was offended enough to leave the other three, founding what is today the Roman Catholic Church.   In short, this meeting led to the split between the Catholic and Orthodox Churches. 

This Council took place in Aya Sofia church, which is still standing.  But the building deserves its own explanation.  The church was built in the 600’s, but was converted to a mosque when the Ottomans arrived in Iznik.  It was terribly damaged by earthquakes, and was restored (they put a roof on it, and rebuilt the minaret which had fallen) and made a museum within the last decade and a half.  But two years ago, it was reconverted to a functioning mosque. 

It is a fascinating building.  There are Byzantine mosaics by the entrance. And while the alter of the church faces east, the mosque is orientated to the south-east to face Mecca.  The center of the building is carpeted in the manner of an Islamic prayer room, but surrounded by the gravel that is used in the church museum as a floor.  It is strikingly different from any mosque I’ve seen.  But perhaps the most surprising thing there are the frescoes.  In the church’s front tower, there are fragments of wall paintings depicting St. Andrew (who evangelized the region), angels, and crosses.  But these are separate from the prayer room.  But in the prayer room, protected by Plexiglas is a fragment of a frescoe depicting Jesus, Mary, and John the Baptist. 

We often get the impression that Islam is a religion of violence, repression, and intolerance.  But I have seen nothing but the opposite in my stay here.  I have been invited to join kandil prayers (I declined, though I washed and observed), I listen daily to the music of the calls to prayer, I am consistently amazed by the design and simplistic beauty of mosques, and I am surprised by the willingness of Muslims to talk with me about my faith and the role of Jesus in relation to Christianity’s and Islam’s shared heritage through Abraham.  And now, in one of the most important buildings in Christian history, there is a working mosque, that has proactively protected the Christian history in its worship space. 

This is not the Islam of intolerance that often springs to mind and jumps from television and the pages of newspapers.   This is the Islam of knowledge, peace, and compassion that at one point made the Islamic world the center of science, technology, and literature.  And this is an Islam that has made a permanent impression on me.