Farewell to the Saffron Monastery

in the courtyard of the monastery

I feel very sad to be going to our last early morning liturgy at the Saffron Monastery. I shall miss these Orthodox services. This time the female members of the party make sure we sit on the left side of the church as we enter, our heads suitably covered. Actually wearing a shawl around the head and shoulders so early in the morning is a comfort. Even though the day is likely to be hot, at 6 or 7 in the morning it is still chilly before the full force of the sun is felt.
I am now letting the liturgy get under my skin.
We are getting used to the format of the service, knowing to always stand when the thurifer is engaged with his thurible of incense around the church, or when the prayers are marked by the prostrations of the monks and boys. Otherwise we sit whilst psalms are intoned antiphonally from side to side by the two groups of boys and monks gathered around their respective lecterns. When one no longer has to worry about standing or sitting at the wrong times

the Saffron Monastery entrance

it is possible to allow the mysteries of the sounds and smells of the service surround you in a far more deep and spiritual way. And I feel sure that any one is capable of feeling this spiritual connection, whatever their religious convictions.

the Saffron Monastery

So for the last time, we climb the steps to kiss the bible on the lectionary in front of the sanctuary, take our last blessing from the hand of the monk as we come down the steps the other side, make our last reverential bow towards the sanctuary, light our last candle at the back of the church and emerge blinking into the bright sunshine; and so to our last breakfast in the monastery.

the Saffron Monastery

There is an optional visit this morning to the ancient Mesopotamian city of Dara, near the village of Oguz, about 30 kms east from Mardin. This was originally on the itinerary for yesterday but time overtook us so it was rescheduled.

on the road to Dara

There are some in the group who prefer to take time out, staying behind in the Saffron Monastery this morning to assimilate the events of the last few days, to simply “be”, to reflect and contemplate, perhaps to meditate, on all that we have experienced this trip, and who can blame them? It being Saturday, and an important Muslim festival as well, large numbers of visitors are expected to the monastery, as it is clearly on the tourist trail. Indeed as our coach heading for Dara turns onto the main road we see two coaches heading up the hill to the monastery. Those of the group staying behind had hoped to gain access to the quiet and private gardens set aside at the Saffron Monastery known as “Paradise”. But it wasn’t to be. I hope they found peace and quiet anyway.

In my next post I shall describe the wonders of the Necropolis and other ruins of the ancient city of Dara...

on the road to Dara - notice the bed on the roof to the left - in
the summer when it is very hot people sleep on their roofs

Mardin and the Saffron Monastery - our pilgrimage continues...

at the Saffron Monastery

Unofficially closed to tourism throughout the 1990s due to the long lasting Turkey-PKK conflict in the surrounding countryside (and that possibly explains why it is omitted from most of the guidebooks to the area), Mardin has recently started to catch up with tourism (still don't expect hordes of package tourists though) and will reward the adventurous traveler with some colorful culture, plenty of historical interest, beautiful architecture and some fabulous vistas. Mardin is one of the oldest settled areas in upper Mesopotamia, lying at the heart of the homeland of the Syriacs, whose ancestors established here around 2200 BC. The Syriac language is directly related to Aramaic, the language spoken by Jesus Christ. The many madrasas and mosques in the city owe their presence to the fact that Mardin was the capital of the Turkic Artukid dynasty between the 12th and 15th centuries.

the self supporting roof at the Saffron Monastery

in the courtyard at the monastery

Approaching by coach from the south the old houses seem to tumble down the hillside in glorious disarray, topped by the citadel at the very top, and all in the attractive beige colored limestone rock of the region. We had passed several of these quarries on our travels. For those who love trivia, Mardin is apparently twinned with Llubljana in Slovenia. But much more important is its historical significance. With remains dating back to 4000 BC the town has in its time been controlled by many different tribes, from the Subarians, to the Hurrians, the Elamites, Babylonians, Hittites, Assyrians, Romans and Byzantines, to name a few. The town has been fought over many times in its turbulent history.

After we have been welcomed to the Saffron Monastery, finished our glasses of refreshing cay and found our rooms, (not so good, it has to be said, as those at Mor Gabriel) we have a tour of the monastery before evening prayer.

the sutoro across the front of the sanctuary

This monastery is well and truly on the tourist route, a well known attraction, with more than 10,000 visitors a year from within Turkey and from abroad, 70% of whom are Muslim. Living in the monastery with Bishop Philoxenus are a nun, a monk and a few boys, and they can take 20 guests, but whilst the liturgy of morning and evening prayer is maintained, it is not a fully functioning monastery as at Mor Gabriel and Mor Augin.

First we go to a very old room with a self supporting roof – there is absolutely no mortar, the roof held up simply by the pressure of the huge rocks against themselves. The room dates back at least to Roman times, but we cannot be sure what it may have been. Some date it back 4500 years to a pagan temple site, a Zoroastrian temple possibly? But there is no definitive evidence of this.

at the Saffron Monastery

Morning prayer starts not quite so early at the Saffron Monastery. Here the females among us sit as we sat in Mor Gabriel, on the right hand side of the church, our heads covered in headscarves or shawls as required in orthodox churches. The men enter a few minutes later. It seems they are not so good at getting up early?! Following our lead, they take their places on the simple benches to the left. We think it slightly strange that in one part of the liturgy the monk comes and sits with us, looking slightly awkward. We discover the next morning that we should be sitting on the left, leaving the right side for the men. Oh dear! Faux pas! But who is correct? Mor Gabriel or the Saffron Monastery? There seems to be some confusion over the protocol.

sunset at the Saffron Monastery

Time for breakfast; it is Friday so no meat or eggs. I miss the hard boiled egg. But the fig preserve to spread on the fresh bread is simply superb, even if I still find it difficult to eat piles of olives with slices of cucumber for breakfast. And there is plentiful cay on offer. In the same way that many westerners seem to find it impossible to start the day without a shot of caffeine, a need that only strong black coffee can satisfy, I find it hard to function without copious cups of tea first thing. I have come to love the cay, even without milk. 

Evening meals for my veggie taste prove difficult here in the Saffron Monastery. We walk in to take our places each evening to plates already set in front of us with the evening fare. It is always meat, (except Friday) with a side salad. So I have to satisfy myself with the latter with plenty of bread, making up for my hunger at our lunchtime stops where I have enjoyed the many different variants of menemen, supplemented with the fantastic array of salad side dishes available.

a sutoro (painted cloth hanging)

So into the coach for our last full day of pilgrimage, and in to Mardin where we will explore just a few of its many churches and enjoy its shops, cafes and local culture, time even for some souvenir shopping before we finally head for home tomorrow...

a view from the roof of the Saffron Monastery

Mor Gabriel monastery: experiencing the Syriac Christian Orthodox liturgy

We are woken up by the loud bell in the bell tower near our room. It’s only 5.30 in the morning and it’s very cold! We grab some warm clothes, tie our scarves over our heads and make our way across the quadrangle to the church for the first liturgy of the day. As women tradition says we should sit on the left hand side and the men sit on the right. The nuns come to join us, sitting behind us at the back of the church. The church is gloomy, the atmosphere subdued. I think we’re not quite awake yet! Boys start to appear and gather around the two lecterns at the front of the church to each side, north and south, left and right. Soon they begin to chant or intone – antiphonally – first from one side, then the other. They stand with arms folded, all around the lecterns, so that some are reading the book on the lectern from the side or upside down! The shorter boys stand closer to the lectern. The liturgy is in classical Syriac - so we have no idea what is being said. More boys drift in, and the monks, over the next ten minutes or so – and they take their places at the lecterns - the time keeping seems quite relaxed, no one seems bothered if you are “late”. Every so often the boys and monks step over to carpets on the floor, where they kneel facing the sanctuary and prostrate themselves, all together, as they chant prayers, reminding us that the prostration for prayers which we think of as a Muslim way of prayer in fact originated before Islam in the Orthodox Christian worship.

Then the thurifer appears, the boy carrying the thurible or incense burner. He is dressed in a white alb, with crossed sashes perhaps denoting his seniority? He stands in front of us and swings the thurible in four directions, north, south, east and west, rotating on the spot as he does so. Then he goes around the church, censing the font and the several colorful hangings around the walls, called Sutore (sutoro singular). These hang on the bare walls and there is also a large one hanging from a curtain pole separating the sanctuary from the congregation. This is pulled open at various stages in the liturgy to reveal the sanctuary. On the altar a paten and chalice are in a state of readiness to celebrate the eucharist at any time. The liturgy proceeds like this for the best part of an hour. We get into the rhythm, standing whenever the incense is being used, and whenever the prostrations tell us that prayers are being said. Otherwise we sit.

the sanctuary sutoro

The atmosphere becomes increasingly charged with the incense, giving a sense of mystery and wonder to the proceedings. Finally the monk in charge, or on this occasion at Mor Gabriel the Archbishop, resplendent in his bright crimson habit, takes his position in front of the sanctuary. We queue to walk to the front of the sanctuary to where the Bible is placed – kiss it, and make our way back, touching the hand of the monk to receive a blessing from him. There is an order of hierarchy to this – men first, in order of seniority, followed by the boys, then the women, ordained first… where does a female priest place herself here? Does she join her male priest colleagues? The monks think not! Do we respect their attitude towards women? Or assert our priestly position, female or not? This is tricky and views inevitably vary!
There is just about enough time for a shower before breakfast. The total service has taken a little over an hour.




The process is repeated when we return to the monastery after our day out, when we join the boys and monks for Ramsho, the evening liturgy. After that liturgy we walk out into the evening sunshine, in time to see one of the boys drawing water up from the well just outside the church.
Time soon for supper and bed. After such an early start to each day no one seems to object to going to bed early, at 8 or 9 pm at the latest. That suits me just fine!




For further detail there is an excellent paper Monasticism in Tur Abdin: A Present Day Account by Mark DelCogliano in Cistercian Studies Quarterly 41.3 2006 p. 311

Mor Gabriel Monastery, Tur Abdin

In the late 1990s the road up to the Mor Gabriel monastery had to be closed at dusk because of the civil war in the region. The local kurds would shoot anyone driving up after dark.
As we make our way there in the coach now we are reminded that we are in a feudal area, ruled by overlords, Agha or Kurdish chieftains. In the worst of the troubles, the safety of the monastery and Christians in the area was threatened and 90% of the Christians emigrated, many to Sweden or Germany. The 20,000 Christian population dropped to nearer 2000. We also learn that there has been a bad relationship between the villagers and the monastery over land ownership.
Recently though the Agha system has been collapsing and there has been a massive improvement over the last 2-3 years in the local situation. Just from our coach we can see a building boom all around, the checkpoints have gone, where they used to be every 4-5 km, and villagers are coming back to their villages. There may now be five to ten Christian families again in each village. The plain is so fertile for arable crops that the farmers can work very hard for a few months of the year and then afford to go away for long holidays somewhere warm during Turkey’s harsh winter.

the entrance to Mor Gabriel

We are to stay here for two nights. Mor Gabriel, (otherwise known as Dayro d-Mor Gabriel or Deyrulumur and the seat of the bishopric of Tur Abdin) is the greatest of the Tur Abdin monasteries. This monastery has strong links with the Church of England through the Tur Abdin Focus Group. We are formally greeted by Mor Timotheus Samuel, who has been the Archbishop of Tur Abdin since 1985. For our leader Stephen Griffiths this is like a homecoming; he clearly feels very comfortable and at ease here. He has spent many years studying this part of Turkey and its Syriac Orthodox religion, getting to know the people well. Immediately on arrival we are invited to sit in a huge circle on the balcony in the shade. We are served the usual small glasses of cay by boys, students and lay workers at the convent, and we sit around talking for quite some time. We are not used to this style of welcoming and hospitality in our hurried western world, but here we are to become very used to it over the next few days. On this first day we seem reticent to speak and somewhat daunted by what seems a strained atmosphere.

The Archbishop is chatting with the Revd Stephen Griffiths, Abba Seraphim, (Primate of The British Orthodox Church within the Coptic Orthodox Patriarchate), Archimandrite Deiniol (of the Wales Orthodox Mission of the Ukrainian Orthodox Church) and Bishop Christopher of the Anglican Diocese of Southwark, updating on the local situation particularly about the land dispute with the Turkish government that threatened the monastery's very existence and which is very much on everyone’s mind at present.
Then our accommodation is sorted out. There is a new wing and an old wing. I’m in one of the old rooms, which seems good enough, although with 4 single beds very close together albeit with our own modern bathroom this would have been quite uncomfortable with 4 females. Fortunately there are only two of us!

guidance for visitors

There is very little parking space for cases, clothes, and the general clobber of 2 women, let alone 4!! But it was fine. The new accommodation is apparently very much nicer with tables to write at, much more space and lovely views to the south over the Tur Abdin region.
But when one reflects on the plight of so many refugees not so very far from here in refugee camps how can we complain? 
Once the greeting and accommodation is all sorted out we have a tour of the monastery. Established in 397, this is the oldest Syriac Orthodox monastery in the world, and the most vital, with some 15 nuns, two monks, several lay workers and always providing hospitality to visitors from overseas. It is very much a working community, with productive gardens and orchards, and
its primary purpose “is to keep Syriac Orthodox Christianity alive in the land of its birth by providing schooling, and ordination of native-born monks." 
On occasions it has provided physical protection to the Christian population during the civil strifes.

This is such a fascinating area of Turkey, and the tenacity and perseverance shown by monasteries such as Mor Gabriel through the difficult times they have suffered is surely an inspiration to us all...

For those interested in looking at the situation of the Christians in Tur Abdin in more detail, I can recommend the following links:
For a very succinct explanation of the political situation as it has affected Syrian Christianity in the Tur Abdin region of South East Turkey there are the reports from 1997 onwards from the Revd. Stephen Griffiths on the Tur Abdin Focus Group website – for example see  http://www.focusmorgabriel.com/articles/article0002.php for his first visit in 1997, with much detail of the history of the Syriac Christian Church up to that time: http://www.focusmorgabriel.com/articles/article0012.php for more on the political background. Also http://www.focusmorgabriel.com/articles/article0011.php Will the Christians be driven out? for even greater detail and analysis…
Also http://theorthodoxchurch.info/blog/news/2013/10/turkey-religious-freedom-and-the-current-state-of-christian-muslim-dialogue/ for more background to the current status of the church in Turkey
and for the land dispute see http://www.zenit.org/en/articles/gem-of-christian-history-at-risk-in-turkey for the detail on the land dispute and the latest somewhat more positive update at http://theorthodoxchurch.info/blog/news/2013/10/return-of-mor-gabriel-monastery-land-approved/

the deer that lives at the monastery cared for by one of the nuns