The House of the Virgin Mary

Many posts are pretty easy to write, but still take over an hour to get the text and photos the way I like.  It's much like a reporter trying to convey the "who, what, where, when," that I learned back as a freshman in college as a journalism major.  But this post will be more difficult because it involves all of the above, but also has to include emotion to try and get the entire message to you.  

During our break, on Wednesday there was a day trip to Efesus, so we were waiting for the mini bus at 6:45 AM to pick us up.  We met up with another small bus, also going to Efesus on our tour, but it was then continuing on to Pamukkale and ours was returning to Bodrum.  More on our spontaneity in a later post.

We stopped along the way for an outdoor breakfast on the shores of Bufa Golu or Bufa Lake. It was beautiful and cool eating outdoors.  We then traveled to the modern city of Selcuk, which is about 5 kilometers from the Efesus ruins.  There, our guide asked who would like to go to Mary's House. Only half of the group chose to go and the rest toured a ceramic factory. Mary's House cost an additional 35 TL, and the entire trip was only 70 TL.

One bus drove us up the hill above Efesus for about 10 minutes and got to the shrine.  This is now a pilgrimage site for Christians, and a holy place for Muslims as well.  They believe that Jesus was a prophet, and Mary was "Meryemana" Mother Mary. So many tour buses go to this site. St. John took care of Mary at Jesus' command, and died in Efesus.   

My poor attempt at getting the entire board photographed so that it can still be read

This site was built into the side of a pretty steep hill, and as you can read above, a German Catholic nun, who was blind, kept having visions of Mary's house in Efesus.  She described an area in such specific detail that researchers found this site just like she envisioned.  The only remaining part of the house was a foundation, which is still visible about 12-24 inches above the floor, and has a line drawn where the original and reconstructed walls meet.  

After having to stand in line, I remember being surprised that hardly anyone was still in the room when we entered. I have to admit that my attitude going into the house was basically that I was going to see a historic site, much like St. Peter's Basilica or the Sistine Chapel in the Vatican. It would be cool to see, but no other expectations.  At the far end of the one room house is an alter, with two kneelers on each side along the walls, and candles and low lighting with the alter fully illuminated   Pope Paul VI visited here in 1967 and a glass box with mementos is located to the left of the alter, with letters from Popes John Paul II and Benedict XVI also in glass boxes to the right of the alter.  

I think we were in the room for about 10 or 15 seconds, when I realized that I was having trouble breathing.  I don't know if I was holding my breath or what, but even trying to take in deep breaths didn't seem to work.  It wasn't a panicky or bad sensation, but was certainly very different. I didn't feel the need to rush out into the fresh air, but there was an overwhelming presence that I just couldn't exhale and remove.  I did exit out the side door, after only being in the room for maybe 30 seconds, and felt a little light headed.  I didn't feel like I rushed, but kept thinking that I should stay longer. But it felt right to leave, and I was breathing normally.  Peggy was right behind me.  I felt weird and looked at my shirt, and the static electricity was clinging my shirt to me tighter than I can ever remember.  It was like it was vacuum packed to my skin. Neither of us said anything, as we walked about 20 paces to the spring water that flows from beneath the house. By then the shirt began to loosen, and Peggy told me that out of no where she almost started crying in the house.  I showed her my shirt and told her my experience.  We didn't say a whole lot more, trying to just take in what had taken place. The spring comes out of a wall and we washed in the water and filled a water bottle.  

Next to the fountains was a prayer wall.  People write down their prayers and tie them to ribbons.  After the past couple of minutes, Peggy of course found a piece of paper and we both wrote down our intentions and tied them to the wall.  

We had a total of 30 minutes here, and it seemed to be only about 10.  The bus was waiting, but we still stopped and bought some things before leaving.  Once in the bus, and later visiting Efesus, the episode was always in the back of our minds, even when seeing the magnificent ruins. We continued to talk about it on the bus, later that night, and have tried to explain it to others back home with whom we've visited.  

I suppose there very well may be a physiological explanation for what happened to both of us, but we are choosing to believe the holy spirit, through the intersession of Mary, came to us. Whew!