Turkish Delight
I read with interest Catherine Woodiwiss’ column about her recent visit to the Hagia Sophia in Istanbul (“Making Room for Delight”). We also recently visited this magnificent edifice on a trip to Istanbul in March. On the day we arrived, a terrorist bomb had been exploded and we were greeted with a bit of apprehension by our guide, hoping we would not let this latest assault stop us from enjoying the Turkish culture and history.
We were staying near the Hagia Sophia and the Great Blue Mosque, so our first visit was to these two beautiful buildings. We were filled with awe, wonder, and delight. But even more, we were comforted by the message of comfort and love that was so clearly and strongly delivered by both “wombs” of faith. Fear is a feeling that closes a door, but the refusal to fear is even more powerful at keeping doors open.
From the Hagia Sophia to the many beautiful mosques, from the crowded bazaars to the busy streets and ferries, we enjoyed an assortment of “Turkish delight.” Thank you, Catherine, for associating “delight” with such a wonderful symbol of God’s enduring presence in the world.
Bill Turney
Houston, Texas
Blessed Bikes
Two years ago, at the age of 56 and not having cycled since college, I returned to cycling. Therefore I resonated with Steve Holt’s “Holy Rollers” in the June 2016 issue. Most recently, a friend and I drove more than an hour to have our bikes blessed in the first Blessing of the Bikes at Pittsburgh’s East Liberty Presbyterian Church. We then joined some of the riders, including the pastor and minister of music, for a six-mile ride up Highland Avenue, past Pittsburgh Theological Seminary, to Highland Park, and back. It was a meaningful, fun, blessed event. The Blessing of the Fleet at the beginning of the season is a long tradition in boating communities and my sea kayak has been so blessed. Now my bike has too.
John Edward Harris
Wellsburg, West Virginia
Idleness or Patience?
I was greatly moved by what Tobias Winright said about patience as a patient in his article in the April issue (“Learning the Art of Patience”). Rather than a Gen Xer stricken by traumatic brain injury, I am a Boomer in his mid-60s anticipating the patience required by the dialed-down lifestyle of retirement and the limitations imposed by an aging body.
The roots of impatience as a patient are deeply embedded in our culture. Long before the fragmented busyness Tobias speaks of influenced by MTV, the Puritan work ethic taught us to avoid “idleness” of any kind. A much older work on patience than those used by Tobias is a 17th century sonnet in which John Milton is the patient, having gone blind midlife and unable to continue his important governmental service. When he tries to excuse his idleness to God, a personified Patience replies, “God doth not need either man’s work or his own gifts.” Then he closes the poem with these famous words: “They also serve who only stand and wait.” What Tobias tells us is what we do while we wait.
Donald M. Brasted-Maki
Eugene, Oregon
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