The Hagia Sophia

I write this as I sip coffee in the garden of the Hagia Sophia in Istanbul. I have just spent two hours imagining, contemplating, analyzing and being just all around in awe. I have a sore neck as well. This is perhaps the tenth time that I have visited the great church and it never fails to dazzle me. As always, one stumbles into the vast open space of the church of Justinian and are immediately humbled; first by the size and beauty of the interior and second by the fact that despite being built at the end of the classical age it is intact. The dome which astonished visitors of the sixth century still hovers miraculously overhead. At the same time, reminders of things that happened here over the centuries are also evident. On the floor, near the alter, slightly worn stones mark where Greek speaking Byzantine emperors were crowned for almost a thousand years. On the second balcony the faces of emperors and empresses with haloes gaze out while asserting their orthodoxy and close relationship with Christ and Mary.The great columns and walls stand straight but whatever furnishings or gold decorations within reach were mostly carried away by Crusaders in the thirteenth century. Huge disks high above the floor announce the names of the first four caliphs of Islam installed after the city was taken by Mahmud the Conqueror. Its a stunning, inspiring, provocative and tired old building. Once built by humans other humans just couldn't leave it alone.

On this visit I noticed a number of features I had overlooked before. Four magnificent blood red marble columns taken from some classical temple stand on either side of the alter. The green of the other columns also carried off from some unknown pagan site are dark like the forest at dusk. The restorers have exposed more golden mosaic in the ceiling and some interesting wall features on the bottom floor are decorated with dolphins. Finally, I noticed a number of Iconoclastic crosses emerging from the faded white wash. 

Now I sip my coffee while a dozen languages are spoken around me, none of them Greek and from the plunging neck-lines, tattoos and exposed legs certainly not Byzantines. (They were famous for hiding their females thus the modern Middle Eastern tradition of covering probably comes from them). But the church still stands and for all its worn glory still declares the order of the universe in heaven and earth as understood by the late classical Eastern Roman Empire. 

The poor man sitting at the neighboring table is apparently exhausted by all this antique magnificence. He seeks reassurance by playing a noisy video game on his cell phone. What the Byzantines would think only heaven knows.