Church Hunting
Part One
Old Constantinople

Today I decided to set my self a task- to see as many ancient churches as I could. This was once a supremely Holy city, so in order to understand its history one needs to understand the role the Ancient Church played in this story. I originally intended to start in Beyoglu, which contains more of the churches in use, but I decided to start in Old Constantinople instead because the churches there are much older. When I say Old Constantinople I am referring to the part of Istanbul that is within what would have been the old city walls. So with my trusty guide book and map I set out from Eminonu.
I initially walked North West along the Golden Horn toward the ferry stop called Fener. This is an area with a fairly high concentration of churches according to the guide book, so it seemed the best place to start, especially considering that this is where my most coveted prize was to be found, the seat of the Patriarchate. As I wandered along the waterfront blvd, I began to see some of the poverty that I heard of but had not really seen. There were still scattered remnants of the old wall, intermixed with ramshackle buildings and fancy restaurants. I walked with a determined step, confident and excited about my journey, and curious about what I would find. As I was part way to my destination, I spotted in amongst some ruined building a sign of what I was seeking- a high mounted cross. Intrigued with my random find, as the church I now beheld was not in the guide, I crossed the street and began to look around. What appeared to be the front door was locked and my inspection around the neighborhood offered no other entrance (I find it is a good idea to look around as sometimes the entrances to old buildings are not apparent). There was no apparent way in so I had to content myself with an image of the exterior. One condition of my expedition was that I would try and get into as many building as I could. I did not, however, consider this the bench mark of my success, do I continued pleasantly on my way.

St Stephen of the Bulgars

I proceeded in my set course for another ten minuets, when I saw another sign of my intended destination. This was what I was looking for, a nice, open and large church.

Right along the busy street I found St. Stephen of the Bulgars, an active Bulgarian Church from the 19th century. It is has a fascinating story. It was built in Venice and shipped to Istanbul, and is entirely cast in iron. Nevertheless, as you can see it is a beautiful church. When I arrived at the front gate there were two old men in the court yard sitting under a tree and doing what all people here do, drinking tea. The one fellow motioned for me to let myself in, and I slowly and reverently entered the church. I was very impressed. It was rather dark inside, as my pictures indicate, but the iron gave it a grave look. The old woman allowed me to take pictures, which I appreciated, but was somewhat uncomfortable with, yet glad for at the same time. Ever since I started this writing project I have discovered a whole new joy in taking pictures. I picked up a couple of items at the gift shop and was on my way. It was a great find as it was still largely in tact; I felt welcome, and I was the only one there; all considerations that will become more apparent as I continue.

This picture of the Iconostas gives a good sense of how dark and heavy the church felt.

The Greek Patriarchate

After looking at the map I realized that I actually went past the Patriarchate, so I had to back track a few blocks. As I began to navigate through the back streets, a very friendly man with pretty good English came out of a store and tried to sell me some travel books. When an especially friendly man with good English approaches you on the street you can be sure that he wants to sell you something. From this fellow I managed to get directions, and it turned out that I was just a few meters away. I had to go through some unassuming doors, through a metal detector, leading into a closed courtyard,. At one time the Greeks here were under a lot of persecution, especially the Church officials, so it is no wonder that I had to go through security. Actually, the whole complex could have gone entirely unnoticed, for it was very unassuming form the outside. Again I reverently went into the building and stood in awe for several minuets, bearing witness to the most remarkable Christian artwork I have ever seen (next to Gary’s place that is). I was not alone, there were a few worshipers and visitors that came and went. I spent a couple of minutes saying some prayers and taking it in. I really wish I could capture the essence of the beauty with my pictures, but I suppose that would take the fun out of coming to a place like this.

The way the lighting was in this church made it hard to get a good shot. With this one I wanted to give a sense of how grand the Iconostas was. It was impossible to get the whole Iconostas in one frame, so I had to take them in sections.
Again, the light tampers with the picture, but I wanted to show the golden inlay in more detail. In all the churches that I saw there were numerous Icons of soldier saints, especially St. George.


To explain the significance of visiting this place would take quite a lot of time, and would incur a good deal of disagreement, so I will try to be as brief as possible. The Ancient Church was divided into 5 patriarchs that were the heads of their districts. The Pope in Rome was one of those Patriarchs, and rightfully the most preeminent, yet not superior in rank. The Greek speaking regions also had a Patriarch, who was perhaps second to the Pope in preeminence. Until the fall of the Byzantine Empire, in the 15th century, the two had roughly equal domains. As the Turks took over much of the areas belonging to the Byzantine Church, the influence of the Greek Patriarch has greatly diminished. So as you can see, this is a pretty important place. In addition, the fact that the Patriarch remained in Istanbul rather than going to Greece indicates how important the Church sees this city as a part of its spiritual heritage.
Needless to say, I did not meet the Patriarch, but I saw a few frocked fellows strolling around the courtyard. There were a few other buildings in the compound, which I assumed were residences of some sort. I do hope to meet the Patriarch some day, but I don’t think that I quite have the clout to walk up to him and introduce myself.
I left feeling quite satisfied with my find. I went back to the store of the eager salesman, and bought a couple of things. Originally I thought I was finally getting the hang of this haggling thing, but later I found similar things that were even less then my first counter offer. I will get the hang of it eventually. I wish my dad where here, he would be good at haggling and probably really enjoy it.

Church of the Pammakaristos

My next destination was the Church of the Pammakaristos, the wiliest of the churches I hunted that day. I left the Patriarchate, and headed right into the heart of a neighborhood that time forgot. It was on a hill, with cobble stones that probably dating back to the Romans. Some of the houses were burnt out or decrepit, others were in immaculate shape, but all of them were much older than the first settlements in Quebec. There were kids playing soccer and women with head scarves doing housework and talking. I went up and down these streets looking for this church that the guide book deemed “one of the hidden secrets of Istanbul.” I encountered two problems: firstly, my map was not as trusty as I anticipated. Very few maps have all the streets marked, so it is hard to know whether one should take the first right or the second. This would not be such a problem if the streets were marked with signs, but why would the locals need that, they have been here all their lives, so they know the streets like second nature, and who would want to wander around here if they weren’t from here? I started to turn back, deeming the prospects slim. I should also mention that I was simultaneously looking for another church near by called Church of St. Mary of the Mongols; another highly elusive prize, which I never ended up finding. As I was walking back I remembered a remarkable building that I saw on the top of a hill on my way out. I decided to investigate it. I walked straight up the hill, no worries about missing this one as it was huge. When I finally found the proper entrance to the courtyard, I was met with a two year old sage with a sucker and a toy. She tried to explain to me what the building was, but my Turkish is still rather weak. Fortunately there was a placard outside that I had the wherewithal to take a picture of. I suspected that this was the Pammakaristos, because it looked fairly unvisited, although it shouldn’t have been, as it was an awesome building as you can see. There was no way to get inside the building, so I had to leave it as is.
I went back to the main street and had a chicken kebab in a quaint little restaurant that was built into the old wall. When I took a look at my guide book I realized by the picture of the Pammakaristos, that I had not found the church I was looking for. I renewed my resolve and choose another route that would offer better success. Incidentally, when I showed Sirin the picture of the placard, she told me that the hilltop promontory that looked like a palace was actually a school built to study Rumi, however my search for Rumi and his Sufis will have to be the subject matter of another expedition.
After lunch I returned into the winding back streets. I discovered why the map often shows streets just ending- stairs, and lots of stairs. I found myself in a very Muslim neighborhood. There are two types of visible Muslims here. The ones in which the women wear pretty much anything they like as long as their heads are scarved, and the ones in which the women are covered head to toe with long black gowns, faces included. In this neighborhood the men were also dressed in more traditional clothe. I felt very much like a stranger in a place where he may not belong. I tried not to give into these feelings though, remembering that I am a soldier and twice the size of these guys. Yah whatever. No one intends me harm, they just look as me because I look as though I am out of my element.
As I was about to put off my search for a second time I saw a building down a street that looked as though it were an old church. I tried to get into the court yard, but the only door was locked and some men down the street told me in their best English-No! Someday I am going to act as though I don’t understand English, and that I am French instead. I started to walk back when I got a hunch that if I went one more block I would find it; I did. The Pammakaristos was converted into a mosque but is now a museum, so I had to pay a couple of Lira to get in. It was built in the 14th century and was the seat of the Patriarch for 100 years before it was turned into a mosque. What struck me the most was how small it is. It probably could not hold more that a few dozen people during a prayer service. It did contain some very fine frescoes, and had a very warm feeling. Most importantly, it was quite, so I could sit a while and contemplate.

Almost all of the frescoes and mosaics made the viewer look up. Here is Christ and his disciples on the ceiling.
One of the best mosaics if Christ that I saw.

Church St. Savior of Chora

My next stop was Church St. Savior of Chora. It was in a different district, so I had to walk a couple of kilometers in the heat and humidity along a busy commercial avenue. There are so many remarkable things occurring simultaneously on these busy streets that a few words could not even begin to capture it. I am starting to get used to the incredible vibrancy, but I am sure that I still stick out as wide eyed prairie boy from Canada. This church was a bit easier to find, but this was not necessarily a good thing, as the entrance was marked by several large tour buses. It seems that everyone wanted to make this their last stop. When I arrived, I found out that the cost to get in was 10 lira, which is the same price as Hagia Sophia, pretty steep for such a small church. The reason that it is so popular is because it has the most in tact frescoes and mosaics of any church in the city (really old ones that is). It was also built in the first part of the 14th century, was converted into a mosque and was turned into a museum. It had all the trappings of a tourist spot, so I was a bit disappointed at first. I could not really sit and meditate as there were so many tourists, so I was going to leave early. However, I took a moment to look through my tour book and started to read about the mosaics. The following is some of what I learned.

I believe this is Christ pulling Adam and Eve out of the grave, indicating the redemption of the sins of the first humans.
This is Christ, his 12 disciples, and 24 decendents.

Hagia Eirene

The day was getting on and I was tired out from over exposure to sun and mild dehydration. I decided that I had a fairly successful hunt and was prepared to end the first part of my expedition. I could, however, see one more important church on my way back, Hagia Eirene. It is an important addition to my journey because it is one of the few large churches that had not been converted into a mosque. It is just a couple of blocks away from Hagia Sophia, but is still inside the walls of the Topkapi Palace. As a result it was converted into an arsenal. It dates from the sixth century and is now used for a music festival on account of its good acoustics.
I was quite a long ways from it, so I decided to try the public transport system. I still had to walk a kilometer or so to get to the main bus route, so I decided to walk along the old city wall. In some places the wall is quite high and in good shape, in other places it is rather decrepit and houses vagrants. Remarkably, much of the walls are still in tack around the old city. What is remarkable about this is that it was built in the early part of the 5th century. If it weren’t for these remarkably constructed walls, the city may have fallen to the Turks a century earlier; they made the city too impervious to siege. Someday I am going to have to take a more complete tour of the walls, but for the purposes of my current expedition, it was enough to walk along them for a few minuets.
When I got home later that night, I looked in my guide book to find out some more about the walls. One thing that it said that did not shock me was that some areas adjacent to the walls are unsafe for tourists to travel alone. On that short walk I saw some of the most ramshackle looking shanties I have ever seen (next to the one I built). What was more remarkable, though, was that the inhabitants did not show any other outward signs of poverty; they were clean and wore nice clothe, looked well fed. I didn’t really feel threatened, for as with most of the neighborhoods I walked through, there were almost no men around. I suspect that if I would have came in the evening I would have felt differently, as the men here tend to congregate in groups and leer at strangers.
I eventually found my way back to the Sultanahmet area, where the last church I sought was located. I knew exactly where the church was because I had walked past it when I was at the museum. When I got there I proceeded in the same bold manner I had entered all the other churches. However a guard near by informed me that I was not allowed in. Between my poor Turkish and his better English I managed to find out that it was not open to the public, which I found to be odd. I guess it is only open during the music festival, so I am going to have to attend. I did manage to take one good picture of the exterior, which was not easy because of the position of the sun.
That ended my expedition; so tired and eager to write it all down, I headed back to the same bus stop that I arrived at a few hours earlier. I was again greeted by a friendly man with good English who wanted to sell me some carpets. When I told him that I had been here for three weeks I could tell that he was a little disappointed, knowing that I was not as vulnerable now that I was not so fresh (regardless, I can’t afford a couple thousand dollars for a carpet). I got on the bus, and two hour and fifteen minutes later I was home, the same trip took forty minutes earlier in the day.