With help from a few influential friends within the Church, the cardinal and Dr. Wickens began a discreet new life in İstanbul. Though they did not feel quite as comfortable as they once had in London, they soon realized that, contrary to what they had heard, the people here were warm-hearted and remarkably tolerant.

On the streets, they saw veiled women as well as those dressed in European fashion. Some displayed their faith through their clothing, while many others wandered about in trousers and shirts similar to those in London—though, in İstanbul, trousers tended to be much looser. They even noticed people wearing the extremely wide garments called şalvar.

As everywhere else, they saw that people here spent most of their time striving to earn their daily bread. As the locals would say, everyone was simply “in pursuit of their bread.”

The cardinal turned to Wickens and said:
“To be Turkish, English, or French is not something we choose. So hating someone merely for belonging to another nation makes no sense at all. All Abrahamic traditions agree on this: no one should be blamed for the sins of another.”

Hearing these words, Dr. Wickens gazed with admiration at Hagia Sophia—the greatest temple in the world—before asking:
“When the Turks conquered Istanbul, they turned this church into a mosque. Doesn’t that contradict the tolerance they are said to show? Why would they do that? They even built the enormous Sultan Ahmed Mosque right next to it.”

The cardinal, careful not to say anything that might expose him to accusations of espionage, replied:
“Yes, I asked the same question, and I’ll tell you the answer I received.”
He paused briefly, then added:
“Remember, this sanctuary is ancient. Long before the time of the Messiah, as you know, paganism was the dominant belief, and this place was the greatest of their temples. Later, it was turned into a church. In the 12th century, when the Latins—our Catholic brethren from the West—defeated Byzantium and seized the city, the emperor fled to the eastern shores of the Black Sea. For a short time, they used this place as a Catholic cathedral. When Byzantium regained control of the city, they made it an Orthodox church again. In other words, not only the Ottomans, but our own people also changed its purpose.”

“In my view, it’s a reasonable practice,” the cardinal continued. “Think about it—countless soldiers die or are wounded in the effort to take a city. After such great suffering, you finally seize it. Naturally, the new rulers would wish to convert the city’s grand symbol—its colossal sanctuary—into a place of worship for their own faith. Would the families of fallen soldiers not ask, ‘Why did our sons die if the greatest emblem of the old state still stands unchanged?’
And remember, in every society, religion is the strongest force shaping the people. Thus, rather than demolishing the sanctuary, transforming it according to the prevailing faith is quite normal.

Later on, many Turks settled in the city. Their numbers surpassed those of the former inhabitants, so the conversion also met the new population’s need for a place of worship.”

“So you mean they should lose their religion just because they lost the war?” Wickens asked.

“Of course not,” the cardinal replied. “One doesn’t need a massive sanctuary to practice one’s faith. As you can see, people worship freely in the churches and synagogues scattered throughout the city. That is what truly matters—that individuals are not prevented from living their faith.
Let me ask you: has London ever permitted the construction of such a grand mosque? Or even a small one?”

Wickens chose to ignore the cardinal’s last remark and interjected:
“The size of a sanctuary means little if no true believers worship within it.”

“By erecting colossal temples far beyond necessity, some tyrants try to make the ignorant masses forget their cruelty, oppression, and injustice—seeking instead to appear as heroes. There are countless examples of this.”

After wandering the city like ordinary travelers and conversing for some time, the cardinal’s friend in Istanbul said:

“There are indeed esteemed scholars in Istanbul, but none quite like the one you’ve described—no one who preaches not only to Muslims but to people of every faith, who is well-versed in all the sacred scriptures, who emphasizes the core principles of Divine Unity in his talks, who does not rely on the state’s protection, who takes no salary. Yet, there is a scholar who fits that description. He lives in İznik.”

Dr. Wickens interjected:

“You must be joking! A man of religion like that, in this age?” he said, then added with a spark of curiosity:

“If one of his qualities matches the one we’re looking for, then it seems we’ve found our man.”

The cardinal, eyes wide with astonishment, asked:

“Are you serious about what you just said? I thought you were joking—implying that such a scholar could never be found.”

“Yes. Strange as it may sound, this was Newton’s wish.”

The cardinal looked at him with astonishment mixed with contemplation, then said they should be on their way. The journey would not be long, yet a significant road still lay ahead.

Dr. Wickens asked,
“Where are we going?”

“To İznik,” the cardinal replied, “an ancient city, once a capital.”

The cardinal then asked,
“Why would Newton entrust some of his secrets and formulas to a Muslim? Did he believe this mystical order had less influence within the Ottoman realm?”

“To be frank,” said Dr. Wickens, “I’m just as curious about the answer. And why insist that these secrets be left to a scholar of such qualities? A poor man might sell them for a handful of coin. A government official or soldier might claim to serve his state, yet place national interests above the welfare of mankind. A wealthy man, preoccupied with his fortune, might act out of personal gain. And a man of science could easily succumb to threats against his life, his property, or his family.”

“Those who truly embrace the doctrine of divine unity—tevhid—and, by its very nature, love all creation for the sake of the Creator, as Mevlânâ did… such a scholar, whose love is not confined to family, faith, or nation but encompasses all humanity, would surely keep his word and protect any trust placed in him. Newton may well have taken this truth into account.”

“Who is Mevlânâ?” asked Dr. Wickens.

“A loyal friend of Truth, just as his name suggests. In his time, he wrote letters to Christians, Jews, and many others, forging friendships with them—but the ignorant accused him of espionage. Let us say he became the ‘stranger’ of his age… you understand me.”

They found the scholar they sought in the middle of a humble circle of discourse. With his turban and simple robe, he looked no different from an ordinary townsman. But when they noticed he had only one arm, they both thought the same: We found him.

The cardinal leaned toward his companion and whispered, “Now we shall see whether he is truly the scholar they described,” then asked his question:

“Many people derive different meanings from the divine text. Yet should the message not be singular? And when those who do this are not the ignorant but the learned—each scholar drawing out a different meaning, even altering it across the ages—does this not imply that the divine book itself has changed?”

The scholar smiled gently before he began:

“My dear friend, before I answer your question, allow me to clarify something. For Muslims, not only the Qur’an but also the Gospel revealed to the noble Messiah, the Torah given to Moses who spoke with God, the Psalms—call them the Old Testament, the New Testament, the Holy Scriptures—it matters not: all of these books are sacred, all are treated with reverence.
We believe that the earlier Scriptures have suffered alteration, both additions and omissions, yet since we cannot know precisely which passages were changed, we listen carefully to every sentence so long as it does not conflict with the doctrine of divine unity—tevhid. I tell you this because what I am about to explain applies to every divine revelation.”

Dr. Wickens, thinking the man spoke this way because he recognized them, glanced at the cardinal.

“For God’s sake,” the cardinal whispered, “I have never met him. How could he possibly know us? Perhaps he simply sensed from our accents that we are foreigners.”

Wishing not to disturb the circle of learning by whispering any further, Wickens fell silent—though his thoughts continued to churn:

In this empire, the Turks are not the only Muslims… and truth be told, we don’t look entirely unlike the peoples of Mesopotamia either.

The scholar continued:

“Surely, divine revelation speaks to every layer of society—the common folk and the learned,
the villagers and the urbane, the wealthy and the poor,the rulers and the ruled. Even scholars of entirely different fields may draw meanings from the same verse according to the discipline in which they work. The fact that people extract different shades of meaning in proportion to their knowledge and wisdom is not a deficiency—it is the very richness of divine speech, its ability to address every soul.”

“For example, let us consider the verse: ‘…and We set the mountains as pegs and pillars upon the earth…’ (78:7).
A poet—whose heart is governed by feeling—imagines the earth as a vast floor, and the world upon it as a magnificent tent adorned with a green canopy illuminated by the celestial dome. He envisions the mountains, lying at the hem of the sky, as mighty pillars holding this great tent aloft. His soul fills with longing to worship his Lord, and as he gazes upon the wondrous harmony of blue and green, his heart overflows with love.

One who is occupied with astrology contemplates the earth as a ship sailing upon a sea of air—the heavens—and imagines the mountains as stakes and masts driven into its deck to grant it balance and firmness. In this ship called the world, he beholds the Captain who sets us upon a journey across every corner of the cosmos— Allah —whose power encompasses all things and whose nature is perfection itself. In his words, the greatest astronomer is Allah Himself.

A sociologist concerned with worldly and economic matters envisions the earth as a household and the animal realm as its sustaining pillar. He sees that the water, air, and soil required for their survival are stored like foundational pegs within the mountains. Realizing that Allah provides for every creature in this vast household, he understands that mountains are indispensable for social life and perceives the greatness of Allah.

A geologist, devoted to the study of the earth, observes that the tremors and upheavals caused by the planet’s great internal movements are steadied or softened by the presence of mountains. Recognizing their role in preserving the earth’s balance, he discerns but a single drop from the boundless ocean of Allah’s knowledge and wisdom, and concludes that true knowledge and true wisdom belong to Allah alone.”

“Let me emphasize once more: these reflections take shape only according to the level of knowledge humanity has reached. For this reason, as later ages uncover new discoveries and deeper insights, the scope of a verse’s meaning may naturally broaden. Though prophets guided us—explaining what we ought to understand from certain verses—they did not offer a commentary that covered every verse in its entirety. This itself shows how greatly Allah values the workings of the human intellect.

Of course, intellect alone is insufficient; the sayings of the prophets that lay out the essential principles of tawḥīd, along with transmitted reports on the topic, the context of revelation, and the interpretations of earlier scholars—all of these deepen our understanding.

‘It is He who has let loose the two seas: one sweet and refreshing, the other salty and bitter. And between them He placed a barrier—an unbreachable boundary.’
(Qur’an 25,53)

What first comes to my mind is the simple fact that fresh water from rivers and lakes does not mingle with salty seawater. Yet a person of contemplation might reflect on far more: the distinction and relationship between the Creator and the created, the seas of this world and the Hereafter, the realms of the unseen (ghayb) and the visible (shahāda).

A sailor friend once told me that the Mediterranean and the Black Sea differ in salinity—the Mediterranean being heavier and more saline. Perhaps, in time, a barrier like a hidden wall separating them will indeed be discovered…

A physicist friend described how every substance is made of particles unseen to the naked eye—particles whose interiors and surroundings are filled with other particles possessing opposing qualities. Who knows? In the advanced ages of science yet to come, we may discover meanings in this verse far beyond what we can presently imagine.

And for precisely this reason we say: the Qur’an speaks to every age. For now, this is all we can grasp with the knowledge at our disposal.”

Dr. Wickens stood utterly frozen. For the words he had just heard—though not identical—echoed ideas he once heard from Newton himself.
“How peculiar,” he thought. “Is this man giving us a religious discourse, or a lesson in natural philosophy?”
But before he could recover from that astonishment, a second shock followed.

“If we were to begin listing every expression in the divine revelation that illuminates the path of knowledge,” the scholar continued, “this lesson would never end. The divine message explains the principles of tawḥīd, the laws and rulings, the moral counsels, the remembrances, the manner of worship, and the boundaries between what is lawful and unlawful—yet at the same time, it is also a book that guides one toward knowledge.”

Once Wickens managed to steady himself, a mischievous thought crossed his mind:

“You asked for this,  Ottoman scholar… If we ever come face to face, I know exactly what I’ll ask you. As a man of science, I’ll make you regret uttering that last sentence.”

The scholar, unaware of the sparks he had lit in the scientist’s mind, went on:

“We must also remember this: within the divine revelation are verses that are muhkām—clear and decisive—and others that are mutashābih—requiring clarification. The muhkām verses carry meanings that come directly to the mind, whereas the mutashābih verses must be explained by one endowed with knowledge. Yet even such a person may fall short, for his own level of knowledge—or the scientific understanding of his age—may be insufficient to unveil their full meaning.”

Dr. Wickens was utterly stunned. These were not the same words he had once heard from Newton, yet they echoed with such uncanny similarity that he felt as though time had folded in on itself. “How curious… Is this man giving us a religious discourse or delivering a lecture in natural philosophy?” he wondered—but that thought had barely settled when a second shock struck him.

“If we were to begin listing the verses in the Divine Revelation that illuminate the path of knowledge,” the scholar continued, “this gathering would never end. The Revelation is a book that not only lays out the doctrines of tawḥīd, the commandments, the reminders, the manner of worship, and the limits of what is lawful and unlawful—it also guides the sciences.”

Wickens, having somewhat recovered from astonishment, thought to himself:
“Osmanlı scholar… you are asking for it. Should we ever speak alone, I know exactly what I’ll challenge you with. As a man of science, I will make you regret that last claim.”

The scholar went on:

“We must also add this: in the Divine Revelation there are verses that are muhkām—whose meanings are clear—and others that are mutashābih, requiring explanation. While the clear verses convey their meanings directly, the ambiguous ones must be interpreted by those qualified in knowledge. Yet even a learned person may find himself limited—whether by his own capacity or by the knowledge level of his age.”

He paused only briefly before giving an example:

“Consider the verse: ‘He created the heavens and the earth in six days.’ (Qur’an 7:54) The length of a ‘day’ varies according to the calendars of different societies. Just as the definition of a day changes among nations, the ‘day’ before Allah may likewise be of an entirely different measure. In other words, according to the criterion intended, a day may be many times greater than the twenty-four hours we know.

The Sumerian scholars—highly advanced in astronomy—believed there were many systems in the galaxy akin to our own solar system, and they built their towers for such observations. I believe that, in ages yet to come, knowledge in this field will advance greatly. It may well be that the Creator counts as a single ‘day’ the completion of a vast and lengthy orbit far beyond our solar system. Such a day, therefore, would be immeasurably longer than what we call a day.

Indeed, the verse ‘Truly, a day with your Allah is as a thousand years of your reckoning’ (Qur’an 22:47) conveys precisely this truth.”

The scholar then answered the question no one had asked aloud:

“And why have I told you all this? Because in this land—since the days of the Sumerians—some among the ancients worshiped many gods or bowed to the stars. With the rise of Christianity and Islam, such beliefs faded. Yet a marginal sect preserved their practices, even their rituals of human sacrifice, seeking revenge against the belief in the One Creator, Allah, taught by the heavenly religions.

Tragically, these people strive to turn hearts away from the Divine Revelation. They mock, saying— Allah forbid—that Allah ‘grew tired’ after six days, imagining they can belittle Him. Worse still, by claiming that Allah grows weary like man, they try to instill the notion that man too may become divine. Over time this notion seeped, falsely, into some of the sacred texts as though it were revelation.

But as my knowledgeable Jewish and Christian friends remind me, even in the Book of Genesis—the creation account in the Old Testament—when the seventh day is mentioned, Allah’s ‘resting’ is purely metaphorical. It signifies completion, not fatigue.

Allah does not tire the way humans do. Yet some frivolous individuals, even without ideological malice, use phrases like Allah does not tire the way humans do. Yet some frivolous individuals, even without ideological malice, use phrases like ‘Allah grew weary’ merely to make jokes—though they should know better than to mock Allah’s revelations. This mystic faction is trying to force meanings onto the divine scriptures of Christians, Muslims, and Jews that have absolutely no connection to the doctrine of tawhid. Believers who worship the same Allah must stand together against such marginal mystic orders.”

Dr. Wickens and the cardinal exchanged glances that spoke the same thought:

“How is this scholar reading our minds? How is it that he carries the very concerns we do?”

A sudden realization struck Dr. Wickens.

“My friend, we don’t have much time. I’m not entirely sure whether that mystic order knows the exact location of the island, but we must help those people,” he said, then quickly added:

“And I forgot to mention something earlier. They say the earthquakes there have been growing stronger each day. Most likely, the volcano will erupt soon, and those people will be buried under rivers of fire. We must hurry—and I believe we’ve found the scholar we were searching for.”

 does not tire the way humans do. Yet some frivolous individuals, even without ideological malice, use phrases like ‘God grew weary’ merely to make jokes—though they should know better than to mock Allah’s revelations. This mystic faction is trying to force meanings onto the divine scriptures of Christians, Muslims, and Jews that have absolutely no connection to the doctrine of tawhid. Believers who worship the same Allah must stand together against such marginal orders.”

Dr. Wickens and the cardinal exchanged glances that spoke the same thought:

“How is this scholar reading our minds? How is it that he carries the very concerns we do?”

A sudden realization struck Dr. Wickens.

“My friend, we don’t have much time. I’m not entirely sure whether that mystic order knows the exact location of the island, but we must help those people,” he said, then quickly added:

“And I forgot to mention something earlier. They say the earthquakes there have been growing stronger each day. Most likely, the volcano will erupt soon, and those people will be buried under rivers of fire. We must hurry—and I believe we’ve found the scholar we were searching for.”

grew weary’ merely to make jokes—though they should know better than to mock Allah’s revelations. This mystic faction is trying to force meanings onto the divine scriptures of Christians, Muslims, and Jews that have absolutely no connection to the doctrine of tawhid. Believers who worship the same Allah must stand together against such marginal mystic orders.”

Dr. Wickens and the cardinal exchanged glances that spoke the same thought:

“How is this scholar reading our minds? How is it that he carries the very concerns we do?”

A sudden realization struck Dr. Wickens.

“My friend, we don’t have much time. I’m not entirely sure whether that mystic order knows the exact location of the island, but we must help those people,” he said, then quickly added:

“And I forgot to mention something earlier. They say the earthquakes there have been growing stronger each day. Most likely, the volcano will erupt soon, and those people will be buried under rivers of fire. We must hurry—and I believe we’ve found the scholar we were searching for.”

The Cardinal whispered back in the same hushed tone:
“I do not even know what secrets you’re talking about, nor what island you keep referring to. How are we supposed to ask this scholar for help? What are we to tell him? Will he truly trust two strangers he has just met and grant us a great ship? Or even find one for us?”

The two friends, unsure of their next step, quietly slipped out of the gathering—
only to be halted by a voice calling after them:

“My dear guests, where are you rushing off to before I’ve even had my coffee?
He who does not speak his trouble cannot hope to find a cure.”