Stepping into Biblical history while witnessing the present-day resilience of faith communities across Turkey and Georgia was life-changing. Our mission team recently returned from a two-week journey that took us from the bustling streets of Istanbul to the ancient ruins of Ephesus, and across the lush mountains of Georgia to remote village churches where faith thrives despite challenges.
The journey began in Turkey, where many of us arrived with misconceptions. Rather than finding a third-world country marked by poverty, we discovered modern cities with all the amenities of Western life. Istanbul, a metropolis that spans two continents and swells to 30 million people during daytime hours, surprised us with its modernity and vibrancy. Yet beneath this contemporary veneer lies thousands of years of history crucial to understanding Christianity’s early spread.
Walking through the marble-lined streets of ancient Ephesus was particularly moving. This once-thriving Roman city of 250,000 people was where Paul spent significant time teaching and establishing the church. As we read from Acts 19-20, we could almost hear the echoes of the uproar caused by silversmiths whose livelihood was threatened by the growing Christian movement. Touching the same white marble pillars that stood in Paul’s day created an immediate connection to Biblical history that no textbook could provide.
In Laodicea, we witnessed something equally remarkable – the archaeological discovery of an actual house church from the first century. Standing in that space while looking across the valley at the lukewarm springs that Jesus referenced in Revelation brought His words to vivid life. What struck us was seeing how Christianity evolved in that very location – from secretive house churches to grand buildings after the faith became legal in the 4th century. It was tangible evidence of the Gospel’s enduring power and spread.
The perseverance of present-day Turkish believers was equally inspiring. We met with Pastor Vahan, whose church operates under constant police surveillance. While authorities claim this presence is for protection following incidents of vandalism, it also serves to monitor church activities. Yet with remarkable grace, these believers have transformed this challenge into an opportunity – providing coffee and hospitality to the officers stationed outside their church and easy access to Turkish Bibles. This demonstration of Christ’s love in difficult circumstances exemplifies true Christian witness.
Crossing into Georgia revealed a completely different landscape—lush, green mountains that reminded some of the Pacific Northwest. This ancient nation, mentioned in history books a thousand years before Christ, surprised us with its beauty and the warmth of its people. From the coastal city of Batumi to mountain villages near the Azerbaijan border, we encountered believers eager to share fellowship, testimony, and incredibly generous hospitality.
Perhaps the most meaningful moments came in these village churches. One evening, after sharing worship and testimonies with a rural congregation, we expected to head back to our hotel. Instead, tables appeared in the courtyard, a fire was lit with grapevine wood, and a feast materialized. Under a perfect 70-degree sky with nightingales singing in the background, we shared a meal with about 50 people. During this beautiful communion of believers from opposite sides of the world, a man named David gave his heart to Christ – his first-time commitment to Jesus happening during our visit.
This trip represented a different kind of mission experience—not one focused on construction projects or teaching programs but on strengthening and encouraging existing believers. Just as Paul traveled to encourage early churches, our presence reminded these brothers and sisters that they weren’t forgotten. For many of our team members, mostly lifelong Christians with decades of faithful service, this opportunity to simply be present, share stories, and pray together proved more impactful than any work project could have been.
As we reflect on this journey, we’re reminded that sometimes our presence is the most valuable thing we can offer. The power of sitting together at a table, breaking bread, and sharing stories transcends language and culture. It reminds us that we are one family in Christ, whether worshipping in a megachurch in America or a small village church near the Azerbaijan border. This is the beautiful reality of the global Church – diverse in expression but united in purpose and faith.
