The Spatial Dimension of Interreligious Dialogue: The Case of an Orthodox Church in Turin

Abstract

Urban space is the social field in which religious diversity in contemporary Italy becomes most evident and where religious groups compete for visibility, recognition, and places of worship. The sites of so-called minorities can be observed as indicators of a plural religious geography. Peaceful and conflictual dynamics are both expressed precisely through external recognition, which may be horizontal—religious and social—when between peers or vertical therefore juridical. This study presents the findings of research conducted in the city of Turin, an emblematic case within the Italian religious landscape for the management of religious diversity and interreligious dialogue initiatives. The analysis focuses on the Romanian Orthodox Church located in the historic center, which we interpret as a shared religious place. This case shows how a spatial and material perspective can offer an innovative approach to the field of interreligious dialogue. Places of worship are crucial spaces for interreligious dialogue: they serve as laboratories of local peace-building and experiments in coexistence, mutual respect, encounter, and conflict mediation. However, in a frame of multiple secularities, the ambiguity of both the national and regional legal systems contribute to marginality of the religious dimension in the city’s urban planning policies, ignoring the important role these places play as spaces of cohesion, identity, inclusion.

1. Introduction

In recent decades, interreligious dialogue has become the subject of growing academic interest, giving rise to a broad, interdisciplinary, and constantly evolving body of literature. Studies are situated at the intersection of theology, philosophy of religion, history, sociology, anthropology, and political science, offering diverse perspectives and methodologies. Normative and dialogical reflections have often aimed to outline the conditions and purposes of dialogue between religions or between branches of the same religion, as this paper focuses on. At the same time, historical, sociological, and anthropological approaches have increasingly focused on the situated dimension of dialogue, as it emerges in the everyday and local contexts of religious coexistence. Interreligious dialogue is thus investigated not only as a discursive or institutional practice, but also as a social and cultural dynamic rooted in space and time, shaped by power relations, symbolic mediations, and urban transformations. The resulting methodological approach is plural, combining textual analysis, ethnography, the study of institutional mechanisms, and spatial mapping1.

Beyond a simple state-of-the-art review, our reflection aims to contribute to the scholarly debate by offering an original perspective on the analysis of interreligious dialogue (but also intrareligious or interdenominational dialogue) through the adoption of the so-called Spatial Turn. This shift in perspective highlights articulation in and, more importantly, of space. Interreligious dialogue is rooted and takes shape in specific locations, from places of worship to cultural centers, schools, and prisons, where religious individuals interact, meet, and sometimes clash. A spatial approach allows us to grasp the material and symbolic dynamics that structure these interactions: the management of proximity, the negotiation of public visibility, and the geographies of inclusion and exclusion. Moreover, it enables deconstruction of the idea of dialogue as a purely verbal and egalitarian process, shedding light instead on asymmetries, strategies, and forms of agency that emerge in the construction and inhabitation of shared space.

Within this spatial theoretical framework, we adopt the city as the privileged scale for analysis of interreligious dialogue. As is well known, urban settings today represent vibrant laboratories of religious diversity and dialogical practices. Cities are home to multiple religious communities, public institutions, and civic networks, and it is in urban space that issues of coexistence become most visible and often most contentious. Urban interreligious and intrareligious dialogue is interwoven with processes of local governance, practices of active citizenship, memory politics, and complex spatial dynamics. Studying dialogue in the city means analyzing how it is promoted, hindered, or transformed by material factors (access to space, zoning regulations), cultural factors (collective imaginaries, neighborhood narratives), and political factors (municipal strategies, associative networks). The city of Turin, as a dense space of interactions and symbols, thus becomes a privileged observatory for understanding how interreligious dialogue takes shape in everyday life, beyond institutional policies, official rhetoric, and normative models.

Our methodology is based on the integration of critical literature analysis and theoretical elaboration from a historical–religious perspective. The reflection draws on a broad and multidisciplinary body of scholarship, from the history of religions, sociology, theology, and philosophy, which has enabled us to identify key concepts, models, and interpretive frameworks relevant to understanding the development of interreligious dialogue studies.

Within this theoretical framework, the analysis focuses on an emblematic case study, selected not only for its empirical relevance, but also for its capacity to make visible the tensions, negotiations, and forms of resilience that characterize religious presence in contemporary urban contexts, in a plural society, characterized by continuous tension between religious and secular forces in a never-ending process of multi-layered relationship (Palmisano and Pannofino 2024). The choice of a single case, specifically related to a minority religious heritage, responds to the need to closely examine the dynamics through which recognition of certain places becomes entangled with processes of legitimation, collective memory, and identity transformation. The case is therefore analyzed as exemplary for intrareligious, since that it offers a meaningful lens through which to interpret broader phenomena that, while rooted in a specific context, resonate with wider issues at both the Italian and European levels.

In particular, we examine the Romanian Orthodox Church of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross, located in the historic center of the city of Turin, which we interpret as a shared religious space. This building not only serves as an exemplary case to analyze the localization strategies adopted by the Romanian Orthodox community and the fundamental role played by the Catholic Diocese in the spatialization process of this community, but also offers the opportunity to explore how space facilitates coexistence and dialogue between different religious communities in their intrareligious relation.

In the first section, we provide a disciplinary and methodological overview of the available literature on interreligious dialogue. In the second, we offer an original analytical perspective by adopting the Spatial Turn. In the third, we justify our decision to adopt the urban scale as a privileged level of analysis. The fourth section presents the city of Turin as an exemplary case of interreligious dialogue initiatives in the Italian context. The fifth section delves into the spatial needs of different religious communities in the region and the issue of religious buildings in Piedmont, highlighting the exception represented by the Romanian Orthodox community. The sixth section analyzes a shared religious site through a spatial and material approach to the study of interreligious and intrareligious dialogue, in order to assess whether the place itself—conceived as a subject—can provide empirical data on the state, forms, and dynamics of dialogue between the religious communities involved.

2. Critical Literature on Interreligious Dialogue: An Overview at a Glance

Although our article focuses on a case of Intrareligious relations within communities of the same religion, we would like to provide a broader overview of the historical studies related to interreligious dialogue.

In distinguishing between the history of interreligious dialogue (IRD) and the academic studies associated with it, referred to as interreligious studies (Gustafson 2020), it is pertinent to observe that theology and pedagogy have historically played a pivotal role in theoretical reflections stemming from practical engagement. It is often challenging to differentiate theories regarding or, more appropriately, the study of IRD from theories of IRD itself, which pertain to directives and organization of dialogue. Kate McCarthy, a professor of comparative religions at California State University, Chico, has emphasized the necessity of distinguishing interreligious engagement, defined as a sociopolitical initiative aimed at fostering mutual understanding and peace, from interreligious studies, which is posited as critical and religiously neutral academic inquiry (McCarthy 2007).

Although somewhat dated, Eric J. Sharpe’s foundational work in the entry on interreligious dialogue in the 1987 Encyclopedia of Religion provides a historical and conceptual overview of the evolution of this phenomenon, tracing its roots from the etymological meaning of “dialogue” as “conversation.” Sharpe noted that it was not until the 20th century that interreligious dialogue began to take the form of equitable exchange among peers. Notably, the phrase “dialogue between religions” became common parlance among religious denominations only in the latter half of the 20th century, while the modern concept of “interreligious dialogue” emerged post-World War I. According to Sharpe, it was influenced by existentialist philosophy that encouraged individuals to regard one another not merely as objects, but as human beings deserving of direct engagement and mutual acceptance, fostering a heightened awareness of alterity. The term “dialogue” to characterize relationships among religious traditions only gained traction in the years following World War II, emerging as “the only effective term to describe the appropriate stance of one group of believers toward another” (Sharpe 1987, p. 2343). In categorizing types of dialogue, discursive dialogue, human dialogue, spiritual dialogue, and secular dialogue (see infra, Sharpe 1987, p. 2344), Sharpe anticipated that, following the significant interreligious event in Assisi in 1986, the frequency of the term “dialogue” would decline compared to the preceding decade, due in part to shifting cultural trends and socio-economic pressures that had failed to engage most religious traditions significantly, particularly those outside the Christian sphere, except on a superficial level.

The historical narrative surrounding interreligious dialogue has often focused on significant global actors and moments, raising the risk of conflating the historical dimension of IRD with the formulation of a general theory also characterized by a global perspective. Various scholars (Campdepadrós-Cullell et al. 2021, p. 2) have noted that, despite the presence of notable historical episodes involving figures such as Ashoka the Great, Akbar the Great, and Saint Francis of Assisi (Howard 2021), such experiences have tended to remain localized, marked by personal significance, often mythologized, and lacking substantial historical continuity (Swidler 2013).

During the 18th and 19th centuries, reflections on natural religion and social peace laid the groundwork for a fresh interreligious openness, emphasizing values of freedom and pluralistic thought, thereby initiating a gradual process of “dialogization” concerning religious truth (Swidler 2013, p. 4; Campdepadrós-Cullell et al. 2021, p. 2).

Undoubtedly, as it emerges from the literature, a pivotal moment in global interreligious dialogue was represented by the Parliament of the World’s Religions, convened in Chicago in 1893 (Seager 1995). This event marked the first significant international assembly where representatives of diverse religious traditions gathered to promote dialogue, understanding, and cooperation. In contemporary times, progressive overcoming of the exclusive claims to truth by many traditions has shifted the focus of debate and practice toward plurality, relationality, and the complementarity of religious proposals, eliciting internal reflection within each tradition on their relationship with others. Within the Catholic context, the Second Vatican Council (1962–1965), hosted by the World Council of Churches (founded in 1948), marked a decisive turning point in fostering openness to dialogue both within Christianity and with other religions (Torraca 2023). The “ecumenical dialogue”—understood as dialogue among Christian denominations—was driven to pursue unity. More precisely, it aimed at achieving reunification of all Christian confessions under the authority of Rome, with the Catholic Church as the central point of reference. The relationship with non-Christian religions presented an entirely different scenario. These religions were traditionally regarded as false or illegitimate, a judgment that extended even to other monotheistic faiths. According to this perspective, salvation was thought to require conversion to the Catholic Church. The Second Vatican Council, however, marked a decisive and transformative shift in this approach. In particular, the Nostra Aetate Declaration reveals a spirit of optimism and helps to understand that personal identity can be enriched by encounters with other religions (Consorti 2007).

Organizations such Religions for Peace (established in 1970) and the KAICIID Dialogue Centre (founded in 2012 by Saudi Arabia and the Vatican) have advanced this trajectory (Khan et al. 2020; Swidler 2013; Campdepadrós-Cullell et al. 2021). A central figure in the theological formulation of interreligious dialogue, Raimon Panikkar proposed the influential metaphor of the “rainbow of religions” as a pathway to understanding religious plurality, while emphasizing the intrareligious dimension of dialogue, where confrontation primarily occurs within oneself (Panikkar 2013). A preliminary review of the literature suggests that many theologians advocate for proactive and militant approaches to dialogue. Peter Ochs, co-founder of the Society for Scriptural Reasoning, interprets scriptural dialogue as a peacebuilding strategy applicable to the transformation of religious conflicts within a political framework (Ochs 2015).

The objectives of interreligious dialogue differ among scholars; for Panikkar (1999), it seeks profound mutual understanding, whereas for Hans Küng, it aims to foster peace among religions and societies (Küng [1990] 1992). More recently, Catherine Cornille has stressed the significance of uncovering new forms of religious affinity (Cornille 2013; Moyaert and Geldhof 2015), with an increasing emphasis on pedagogical considerations (Byrne 2011; Leirvik 2008). At the terminological and conceptual level, discussions have arisen regarding the differences between interreligious dialogue and interfaith relations; Christopher Evan Longhurst has advocated for exploring more inclusive forms of dialogue in an increasingly complex and globalized world (Longhurst 2020).

Within this theological framework, Hans Gustafson’s 2020 volume “Interreligious Studies: Dispatches from an Emerging Field” provides a comprehensive and well-structured overview of the nascent field of “Interreligious Studies” (IRS) (Gustafson 2020). Integrating approaches from various disciplines such as theology, social sciences, philosophy, and education, IRS confront the complexities of global interreligious relationships. This publication aligns with prior works, including “Interreligious/Interfaith Studies: Defining a New Field” by Eboo Patel, Jennifer Howe Peace, and Noah Silverman, as well as pioneering contributions from authors such as Eboo Patel, Oddbjorn Leirvik, Amy L. Allocco, Geoffrey D. Clausen, and Brian K. Pennington.

Gustafson addresses the distinction between interfaith and interreligious dialogue, highlighting the more practical and denominational connotation of the former as compared to the more academic and critical nature of the latter, while remaining within the prescriptive framework of constructing a field. His volume indeed offers a theoretical analysis that precariously balances being a theory of and a reflection on dialogue, prompting critical examination of the potentialities and limitations of this emerging field. He identifies distinctive characteristics that delineate its theoretical and methodological boundaries. According to the author, IRS analyze interactions among religious traditions, the dynamics of encounters, and dialogue practices, while also being normative in nature, as they seek to promote mutual understanding and peaceful coexistence through the development of guiding principles. It is emphasized that scholars are often personally engaged in the study process, influenced by their own beliefs and religious identities.

Philosophy has also engaged with the topic of interreligious dialogue (Camera and Celada Ballanti 2017; Cunico 2012), revisiting classical texts such as Lessing’s “Nathan the Wise” (Lessing 2002) and the parable of the three rings (Celada Ballanti 2017) to propose a hermeneutics of dialogue based on sense, truth, relativism, and theology of religions. In the Italian context, notable contributions include those of Roberto Celada Ballanti (2020), who has systematically articulated a “philosophy of interreligious dialogue.”

Within the framework of theories surrounding or exemplifying the study of IRD, the sociology of religion has benefited from Eric J. Sharpe’s initial typology of interreligious dialogue practices, identifying four primary analytical categories (Sharpe 1987): (1) discursive dialogue (previously referred to as “debate” or “discussion”), conceived of as an intellectual exchange founded on mutual listening and reasoning; (2) human dialogue, based on authentic encounters between individuals regardless of their divergent religious affiliations; (3) secular dialogue, focusing on concrete cooperation among believers of various faiths to address social issues collaboratively; and finally, (4) spiritual dialogue, rooted in prayer and meditation rather than in debate and discussion. Subsequently, the sociology of religion has concentrated particularly on empirically studying the practices and dynamics of interreligious dialogue, analyzing real-world implementation and interactions among groups, religious leaders, and institutions (Halafoff 2011, 2013; Lamine 2004; Griera and Nagel 2018; Griera and Forteza 2011; Knitter 2013). Such studies reveal that dialogue initiatives often yield transformative impacts on social and community levels (Campdepadrós-Cullell et al. 2021).

Despite the rising attention to the subject (Cheetham et al. 2013), empirical research remains fragmented, often restricted to localized case studies and theoretical models based on circumscribed and local examples (Griera and Nagel 2018).

3. A Spatial Perspective on the Study of Interreligious Dialogue

Quoting the words of Celada Ballanti in his introduction to Filosofia del dialogo interreligioso:

“Qual è, dunque, il topos, l’Ort di una filosofia del dialogo interreligioso? Come dare esecuzione alla Toposforschung indicata nell’Introduzione come inesauribile compito ermeneutico?”

(Celada Ballanti 2020, p. 20)

“What, then, is the topos or Ort of an interreligious dialogue philosophy? How can we carry out the Toposforschung indicated in the Introduction as an inexhaustible hermeneutic task?”

We understand the significance of the concepts of topos and Ort in both material and immaterial senses, particularly as space and place are conceived of in recent contributions that apply the Spatial Turn to religious studies (Knott 2010; Giorda 2024). While sociological and historical studies of interreligious dynamics remain in their infancy, research addressing the aspects, dynamics, and strategies of interreligious dialogue through analysis of shared religious spaces is even less developed (ShaRP LAB 2023; Albera et al. 2022). This research should begin by perceiving space not merely as context, but as an active agent with its own agency.

The objective of this paragraph is to illustrate how a spatial approach to interreligious dialogue can provide theoretical and methodological tools capable of enriching the formulation of hypotheses and the articulation of research questions. From this perspective, the conceptual framework presented in the volume Interreligious Encounters in Europe: Sites, Materialities and Practices (Winkler et al. 2023) is particularly beneficial, as it introduces an analytical framework grounded in the categories of sites, practices, and materialities.

As outlined by the editors in the introductory pages, these three dimensions enable exploration of various aspects of interreligious contexts. The category of site allows for analysis of how specific locations are produced and configured to host or represent encounters between religions, suggesting that spatiality is never neutral, but always implicated in social, political, and aesthetic dynamics. The section dedicated to practices emphasizes the ritual actions, daily interactions, and performances that articulate and enact the encounter, highlighting the resulting negotiation processes. Meanwhile, the materiality section elucidates the role of objects, bodies, environments, and senses in interreligious relationships, underscoring the symbolic and affective significance of material mediations. This represents a significant theoretical expansion beyond traditional studies of dialogue, which have primarily focused on actors and discursive practices, while often neglecting the spatial and material conditions conducive to, or obstructive of, encounters.

As highlighted in more recent literature, a predominant trend has been to focus on actors and institutions, viewing interreligious dialogue as a phenomenon situated within local, national, and transnational configurations. Within this volume, Alexander-Kenneth Nagel’s contribution (Nagel 2023) is particularly noteworthy. He states: “The last five years in particular have brought about an acceleration and diversification of empirical research, including perspectives on interreligious dialogues as an instrument of local governance (Griera and Nagel 2018; Konyali et al. 2019; Martínez-Ariño 2019), new forms of the mediatization of interreligious practice (Neumaier and Klinkhammer 2020), and studies on the ritualized nature of interreligious interaction (Moyaert 2017; Nagel 2019). Most of these social scientific contributions share an awareness of power imbalances and the inherent asymmetries of organized interreligious encounters, often associated with challenges of religious disparities” (Nagel 2023, p. 24).

Nagel’s proposed approach proves particularly advantageous for analyzing how interreligious spaces are produced, inhabited, and experienced. He considers the political and institutional conditions that facilitate the emergence of such spaces, alongside the collaborative processes involving urban planners, religious representatives, artists, and public officials. In this sense, the construction of multireligious spaces reveals itself as the outcome of complex negotiations, reflecting dynamics of inclusion as well as mechanisms of exclusion. The literature on silent rooms (Crompton 2013), for instance, illustrates how the apparent neutrality of these spaces is, in fact, the product of specific compromises among religious needs, institutional norms, and secular expectations.

Another foundational dimension of the spatial approach is materiality. Following Marian Burchardt, one may refer to “infrastructural religion” to indicate how religion manifests through spaces, objects, buildings, as well as organizational practices and normative frameworks (Burchardt and Höhne 2015, p. 3). Religious sites are not mere containers; rather, they act as dynamic agents connecting individuals, resources, and symbols within complex relational networks. In this perspective, religious materiality is not ancillary or superficial, but constitutive of the social and spiritual lives of communities.

The visual, tactile, and symbolic elements of interreligious locations help define spatial perception, activate senses and emotions, and create conditions for either encounter or conflict (Knott 2010; as well as sacred choreographies Barkan and Barkey 2015). In these pioneering efforts to explore the relationship between dialogue and space, Mehmet Kalender has examined how space impacts interactions among participants in interreligious dialogues. He asserts: “Based on the assumption that space is a relevant factor for interaction, the main question of this paper is: In what way is space expressed in interfaith activities and how does it correlate with the interaction of the participants?” (Kalender 2016, p. 425). Utilizing the spatial definition proposed by Martina Löw, “a relational order of social goods and living beings in places,” Kalender illustrates how space is not simply a backdrop, but a socially constructed entity laden with norms, customs, and constraints, which profoundly shapes relational possibilities.

Thus, the spatial dimension of interreligious dialogue not only encompasses the manner in which religions meet and interact within specific spaces, but also entails that space plays a role in configuring dialogue through a reciprocal relationship. Analyzing symbolic cities such as Jerusalem (Luz 2024), secular public spaces dedicated to reconciliation processes, monuments, museums, or multireligious places allows us to understand how every space is never neutral, but rather the result of a protracted history of conflict and tension, as well as collective hopes and aspirations. Such spaces are not merely venues for interactions among diverse religious traditions; they are also imbued with historical and cultural meanings that are central to the peace-building process.

For example, Jerusalem exemplifies how interreligious dialogue and peace can be tested within a symbolic and physically significant space holding tremendous religious and political value. The city serves as a crossroads for three major monotheistic religions, yet its streets, temples, and squares also bear witness to millennia-long tension, marked by territorial conflicts and religious wars, and more recently by challenges linked to social justice and coexistence. Secular public spaces dedicated to reconciliation processes, such as sites of memory and memorials, assume a crucial role. Museums, monuments, and centers for dialogue education are physical structures that not only preserve the memory of the past, but also provide opportunities for reflection on interreligious dynamics and contemporary challenges. Such spaces encourage reconciliation, dialogue, and mutual understanding through the exploration of shared histories and resolved or still unresolved divergences.

There exist shared religious sites that emerge from bottom-up processes, where their spatial dimension and management translate into practices of coexistence. The spatial dimension is far from being a mere container; it instead acts as an active participant in the peace-building process.

By applying the ShaRP protocol2, it becomes possible to grasp the relationships among religious and institutional actors, considering both the levels of action (bottom-up, middle-middle, top-down) and the dynamics of hospitality, coexistence, or tension. The ShaRP protocol offers an integrated approach to understanding the complex interactions among religions in space, providing analytical tools to study how interreligious practices manifest, develop, and become institutionalized within specific contexts. By adopting Nagel’s categories (Nagel 2023, p. 26) through analysis of spatial configurations, aesthetics, interactive dynamics, and material infrastructures, a deeper understanding of how religions coexist and dialogue in the contemporary world can be achieved: “The dimension of Configuration relates to the internal composition of the installation, as well as its interplay with its environment. The dimension of Aesthetic Formations refers to the capacity of interreligious place-making to speak to the senses and induce religious experiences. The dimension of Interaction pertains to the negotiation and collective action associated with interreligious place-making. The dimension of Infrastructuration concerns the geographical and material constraints and opportunity structures for interreligious place-making” (Nagel 2023, p. 26).

The configuration dimension refers to the internal composition of interreligious spaces and their interaction with the surrounding environment, highlighting how physical arrangement influences relational dynamics. Aesthetic formations pertain to the creation of environments that engage the senses and evoke religious experiences, thereby underscoring the significance of aesthetics in the perception and usage of sacred spaces. Interaction centers on the negotiations and collective actions related to the establishment and management of interreligious places, illuminating collaboration and conflict dynamics among various religious actors.

In this interaction framework, the interpretation proposed by Chidester and Linenthal remains incredibly relevant. The authors show how different strategies of appropriation, exclusion, inversion, and hybridization can generate: “Appropriation and exclusion are the two strategies most often employed in attempts to dominate sacred space by advancing special interests of power or purity, while inversion and hybridization are particularly suited for resistance to domination” (Chidester and Linenthal 1995, p. 19). These categories facilitate dynamic reading of the complexities of spatial processes, highlighting the critical role that territory and its material and symbolic configuration play in interreligious relationships and dialogue-building processes.

Lastly, the concept of infrastructuration examines the architectural and material constraints, as well as the opportunity structures, impacting the realization and functioning of interreligious spaces. Sharp has identified various infrastructural modalities, including partitioning, segregation, and sharing—both permanent and temporary or ephemeral.

In our analysis, we will finally consider the notion of “mutual respect” within shared religious spaces, applying the theoretical lens recently proposed by Valeria Fabretti concerning this concept, which closely focuses on agency, corporeality, and spatiality (Fabretti 2024). Within various religious sites, two or more communities from different religious traditions coexist either synchronically or across time, as evidenced by the numerous Catholic churches converted to Orthodox churches, either temporarily or permanently (Giorda 2023). Respect, understood as “mutual recognition,” emerges as a privileged mode of coexistence, as it does not presuppose adherence to shared subjective and normative orientations. It is interpreted not merely as a mental disposition among individuals, but as an interpersonal and dialogic attitude that inevitably involves a form of concrete action, thus differentiating it from tolerance, which can retain a more abstract form. Regarding corporeality, it is crucial to highlight how respectful relationships necessarily entail a correspondence between mental states and physical movements. Numerous studies have confirmed that respect is a relational phenomenon, negotiated and intrinsically linked to performative components. In this light, Fabretti emphasizes the intricate interconnection between individual performances and spatial and material elements, also invoking the significance of non-discursive encounters, such as those made possible by soundscapes, smellscapes, and touchscapes.

Specifically, the author, drawing on Sennett’s reflections, underscores the particular conditions that promote forms of respectful coexistence, conditions seemingly reflected in the Orthodox churches we have investigated. Sennett notes that the porosity and multifunctionality of spaces “train” those who inhabit or traverse them to endure continual interruptions (Sennett 2019), referring back to Erikson’s pedagogy, which views disorder as a positive stimulus for the reorganization of identities in a logic that values the other, fostering a decentering of the self (Sennett 1970). Additionally, Fabretti points out that expressions of respect are not limited to being embodied in space, but also extend to material goods, in line with the idea that objects not only facilitate but also modify social actions through their physical presence. From this perspective, researching the spatialization of respect within shared religious places becomes particularly compelling, enacted through space and materiality, resulting from a dynamic balance between preservation of identity and relational openness.

Finally, we owe our insights to the exchanges and interpretations gleaned from a recent contribution by Nimrod Luz on the spatial theory of interreligious encounter and specifically intrareligious (Luz 2024). His work emphasizes the importance of scale and positioning related to the choice of scale in the analysis of social and political processes spatialized within places and various dimensions. We choose to reference urban space (Italian) as a focal point, specifically regarding religious sites as primary agents capable of constructing and shaping forms of grassroots interreligious dialogue.

4. “Urban Religion”, or Religious Practices in the City

In recent decades, research on the relationship between religion and urban contexts has experienced significant advancements in both historiographical and methodological terms. Religion is increasingly recognized as a fundamental component in the configuration, perception, and transformation of urban space, moving beyond its previous relegation to an accessory or merely symbolic role. In particular, the processes of secularization and globalization have profoundly reshaped the ways in which religions manifest and assert their visibility within urban space, often following trajectories that are neither linear nor homogeneous. Contemporary urban contexts are marked by an ongoing tension between religious and secular dynamics, within a continuous process of negotiating spatial and jurisdictional boundaries—an interplay that gives rise to what has been described as a framework of multiple secularities (Burchardt et al. 2016). This epistemological shift has led to a conceptual redefinition of urban space, which is now viewed not merely as a neutral container of social dynamics, but as a relational field shaped by religious practices, imaginaries, and institutions.

One of the seminal academic contributions that paved the way for this framework is Harvey Cox’s (1965) The Secular City, which introduced the notion of a secular city as a space where religion tends to lose social centrality while still maintaining institutional influence (Cox [1965] 2013). Nevertheless, subsequent scholarship has extensively challenged the notion of linear marginalization of religion in urban modernity, demonstrating that religious practices not only persist, but also adapt and re-emerge in novel forms. Certain studies situated within the North American context have become foundational in this domain, revealing urban religious vibrancy, such as Roberto Orsi’s Gods of the City: Religion and the American Urban Landscape (Orsi 1999), which investigates spiritual and material forms within the city of New York.

Edited by Becci et al. (2013), the volume Topographies of Faith: Religion in Urban Spaces, conceptualized by European scholars yet relevant in a global context, has provided a critical turning point in the discourse, illustrating how contemporary cities, particularly those identified as global cities (Garbin and Strhan 2017), serve as privileged arenas for interreligious interaction and the (re)articulation of religious identities, frequently influenced by local and global human mobility (Harris and Garnett 2013). Ritual practices, sacred architecture, public commemorations, and forms of daily devotion actively contribute to the construction of urban identity, fostering the creation of spaces that embody both religious and civic dimensions.

Within this framework, Jörg Rüpke’s work Urban Religion: A Historical Approach to Urban Growth and Religious Change (Rüpke 2020) introduces the concept of “urban religion” to describe the intricate relationship between urban development and forms of religious expression, beginning with an analysis of ancient Rome. Rüpke proposes viewing religion not solely as a system of beliefs, but as a collection of daily practices deeply intertwined with the material and symbolic structures of the city, encompassing public spaces, economic networks, collective imaginaries, and civic infrastructures. This perspective emphasizes how religion actively participates in the production of urban space, influencing both architectural forms and social dynamics.

Scholars have also examined the aesthetic and semiotic dimensions of religion in urban settings within theoretical frameworks that integrate spatial, material, and visual aspects (Knott et al. 2016). Simultaneously, there has been an increasing focus on the role of public institutions in regulating religious diversity within cities. While the legal and political framework is defined at the state level, it is at the local level that the governance of religious pluralism is concretely enacted. In this regard, Burchardt and Griera (2020) introduced the concept of “spatial governmentality” to describe the complex array of norms, administrative devices, and control practices through which religious expressions are inscribed and regulated within urban space. Spatial governance is revealed to be non-neutral, shaped by a multitude of factors, including the legal recognition of confessional groups, the public visibility of religious practices, and the social acceptance of various religions. As Giorgi et al. (2022) note, municipal administrations wield significant influence in managing religious rights through practices ranging from urban planning to intercultural mediation (Griera and Forteza 2011; Martínez-Ariño 2019; Burchardt and Griera 2020).

Luca Bossi (2024) has further developed this discourse, highlighting how many religious claims—such as those related to the establishment and location of places of worship, can indeed be realized only through decisions and negotiations at the local level. These processes engage a multitude of actors, institutional, religious, and civic, and unfold through both formal and informal regulatory forms.

The resulting landscape illustrates that the production of urban religious space is the outcome of negotiation and power dynamics, where public institutions, administrative officials, and religious communities contribute, sometimes in a conflictual manner, to defining modalities of religious presence in public space. Interreligious dialogue is often managed at the municipal level, employing mixed approaches that combine institutional and informal frameworks, allowing religious and secular actors to collaborate, as demonstrated by Fabretti et al. (2018), in their reconstruction of the genealogy of institutional collaboration among interreligious actors and local governments. This collaboration manifests in various forms, such as activities focused on theology, doctrines, and religious principles designed to foster dialogue; social cohesion and mediation interventions to promote coexistence among citizens; awareness and consultation initiatives aimed at disseminating knowledge of diverse religious traditions; ceremonial and performative politics organizing public events and interreligious rituals that enact cooperation among religious leaders; and joint lobbying efforts to advocate for shared values and support the requests or claims of religious organizations within the public sphere.

5. Turin: An Exemplary Case Study of Interreligious Dialogue Initiatives Within the Italian Context

Turin is a city with a rich history of religious diversity. Since the mid-20th century, it has notably served as a significant destination for both external and internal migration, and today it represents unprecedented diversification in the realm of religion. The introduction of the Albertine Statute in 1848 marked a pivotal moment, granting civil and religious liberties to non-Christian and non-Catholic communities, specifically the Waldensians and Jews, which led to legal recognition that ushered in an era of religious freedom. Notably, the initial signs of visibility for these two communities materialized through the establishment of their respective places of worship, an event that had pronounced implications for the city’s architecture. The phenomenon of super-diversity (Vertovec 2007) is manifested in urban spaces through the proliferation of places of worship, indicative of the stratification of grassroots rituals and religious aesthetics, while municipal institutions often play a role in promoting certain communities while marginalizing others. Religious communities, via their architectural expressions and spatial configurations, shape urban space, oscillating between visibility and invisibility (Becci et al. 2017). The presence of various religious confessions has become increasingly evident in recent decades, partially as a result of migration flows. This migration has compelled societies and institutions to engage with diverse actors and innovate approaches to managing social phenomena, particularly from a religious perspective (Bossi and Ricucci 2023).

Currently, Turin may be characterized as the most noteworthy laboratory for managing religious diversity in Italy. Especially in the last twenty years, the city has distinguished itself in legislative, political, and administrative terms by embracing a declared religious pluralism (Bossi 2024). The municipal administration has initiated significant processes to govern religious diversity through various public and private initiatives that foster the development of cultural events, meetings, and representations, placing religions at the center of urban discourse. Moreover, numerous projects initiated by political and cultural institutions have engaged religious groups in their execution. Simultaneously, religious actors have played active roles in urbanization processes, influencing policies and strategies.

What makes Turin particularly significant for our study is not only the presence of a plurality of religious actors and their governance structures, but above all the central role that spaces and places have assumed as active tools for dialogue and mediation among different religious communities. The literature has emphasized that space has shaped power relations, influencing forms of visibility and invisibility, and activating processes of mutual recognition. Indeed, in the city, numerous projects and initiatives have consciously harnessed the potential of places and spaces, whether public, shared, or repurposed, to facilitate encounters between different faiths and cultures (Bossi and Giorda 2021).

Since 2005, the “Torino Spiritualità” festival has annually promoted days dedicated to religious and spiritual themes through seminars, conferences, workshops, and performances. A watershed moment in the local governance of religious diversity occurred during the 2006 Olympic Games, which led to the establishment of an Interfaith Committee chaired by former mayor Valentino Castellani (1993–2001) in collaboration with the City’s Intercultural Center. The committee includes representatives from eight prominent confessions within the city based on membership numbers: Buddhism (Italian Buddhist Union), Catholicism (Holy See), Evangelicalism (Federation of Evangelical Churches in Italy), Hinduism (Italian Hindu Union), Islam (represented by an Italian convert), Judaism (Union of Italian Jewish Communities), Mormonism (The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints), and Orthodoxy (Romanian Orthodox Diocese of Italy). In 2017, the committee broadened its representation by including two members from the Soka Gakkai Buddhist association and the Baha’i faith, aiming for a more comprehensive representation of the urban religious diversity. In addition, since 2016, the city of Turin’s Office for Integration has involved local Islamic centers in a permanent dialogue, formalizing a “Sharing Pact” to promote understanding, coexistence, and mutual respect with Islam.

Turin is also a notable case for its experience in public services, in addition to the spaces dedicated to representation, coordination, and mediation of various interests. This is exemplified by agreements for religious and spiritual assistance in correctional facilities and hospitals, as well as the governance of cemetery spaces. The capital of Piedmont boasts the distinction of being the first city in Italy to establish a multifaith space, the “Room of Silence,” created in 2012 at the San Giovanni Molinette hospital, followed by a similar space at the Mauriziano hospital in the subsequent year. In 2015, the Sandro Pertini Airport became the site for the first Islamic prayer room within an Italian airport. Regarding cemetery governance, the city hosts four active cemeteries, two of which (Cimitero Monumentale and Cimitero Parco) accommodate burials for religions other than Roman Catholicism (Omenetto 2020).

Moreover, Turin currently has the highest concentration of multifaith spaces in Italy. The establishment of such spaces is an initiative by institutions to address some of the challenges characterizing contemporary complexity, aiming to create opportunities for dialogue and interaction among the religions that populate urban settings. Among these, the ambitious “Casa delle Religioni” project (Bossi and Giorda 2021), initiated in 2016 through a three-year collaborative design process involving groups from so-called ethnic-religious minorities and secular actors, forms part of a broader plan to repurpose a post-industrial building, advocated by the municipal administration, the Interfaith Committee, and the Benvenuti in Italia Foundation, in response to the spatial needs of the various communities present in the region. This project, modeled after Berlin’s House of One, represented the first attempt to conceptualize a multireligious building in Italy and remains unrealized due to conflicts among secular, cultural, and religious interests and a lack of engagement from municipal institutions. In 2024, the municipality approved a new phase of the project as a “distributed action” within the territory, symbolically anchored at the city’s Intercultural Center.

Building on the concept of the House of One, an event occurring in 2024 at the Castello del Valentino marked the conclusion of the project “Believing in Change: The Experience of Dialogue Among Religious Diversity.” The exhibition, titled “RITUALS/MATERIALS,” curated by Eleonora d’Alessandro, Giulia Massenz, and Daniele Campobenedetto and under the scientific direction of Marian Burchardt and Maria Chiara Giorda, focused on the iconic example of inclusive architecture currently under construction in Berlin. Specifically, the project supported by Benvenuti in Italia, which received backing from the City of Turin in 2023, aimed to investigate the role of architecture in constructing plural and inclusive spaces that foster interreligious dialogue and cultural engagement. Continuously aligned with research efforts and aiming to explore the potential for advancing the Casa delle Religioni concept within the city, a 2024 project titled “Cultural and Religious Heritage in Turin: Towards the Protection of Spaces of Diversity,” proposed by the Benvenuti in Italia Foundation through a call by the City of Turin for initiatives regarding Intercultural Policies and Circular Economy, sought to explore the interests of stakeholders involved in creating an innovative tool for enhancing the material and immaterial heritage of diverse local religious communities. The research has prioritized dialogue with members of the city’s Interfaith Committee, as well as representatives and leaders from other religious communities, with the goal of valuing the cultural and religious heritage that is layered and often obscured within places of worship belonging to various groups in the region. Primary objectives included the exploration of new methodologies for safeguarding plural religious heritage and promoting interreligious and intercultural dialogue, considering the paucity of research focusing on non-Catholic religious heritage.

These numerous initiatives position Turin as a notable and exemplary case of local policies aimed at fostering inclusion, interreligious and intercultural dialogue, and mutual recognition.

6. The Spatial Needs of Religious Communities Within Urban Environments: Localization Strategies of the Romanian Orthodox Community

From a spatial perspective, despite the particular focus of the capital of Piedmont on religious diversity, the current urban landscape, like that of most Italian cities, reflects a chronic deficit of areas allocated for religious services. The existing spaces were delineated in 1991, during a period marked by lower presence of religious diversity and public invisibility of many new religious communities (Bossi and Giorda 2021). Among the various needs and demands of the new inhabitants, there was a spatial requirement for places of worship, which were entirely lacking in a territory characterized by Catholic parishes and a few historic minority temples (Bossi 2024). Internal migration prompted significant urbanization projects, in contrast to external migration. The emerging social components predominantly settled in already-built neighborhoods and occupied lands, finding themselves unable to construct new places and spaces for prayer and worship, instead residing within shared or repurposed spaces. Furthermore, for the capital of Piedmont, as well as for other cities in Italy, the absence of precise qualitative and quantitative data regarding religious diversity from a numerical standpoint—unless reconstructed from estimates based on migrant presence—made a mapping project for worship sites particularly beneficial. This project, initiated in 2011 and still ongoing, has facilitated examination of the presence of religions within the territory in terms of recognition, visibility, and social and cultural integration, as well as inclusion and exclusion both from within (religious communities) and outside (public institutions and citizens) (Campobenedetto et al. 2016, p. 20).

While the allocation of religious areas does not entail precise public oversight and relies on private initiative, it is true that mapping available spaces can be an arduous task, especially for those lacking sufficient capital and expertise. In Turin, in particular, the majority of immigrant communities reside in densely built areas and neighborhoods where it is impossible to erect places of worship, primarily due to the lack of available land. For these reasons, the most prevalent solutions adhere to two fundamental models: the conversion of disused Catholic worship buildings or the reutilization of buildings of various other natures. An important aspect characterizing the positioning of “minority religions” in the city is the invisibility of worship spaces; that is, their lack of recognition and visibility. Often, these locations are materially and symbolically invisible, being anonymous or otherwise unremarkable: “for legal, socioeconomic, and political reasons, these places of worship have been relegated to urban invisibility” (Bossi and Giorda 2021). The law entails several substantial differences between confessions that have an agreement with the state and those that lack legal recognition.

In fact, the majority of religious organizations remain distant from such legal recognitions. Consequently, the solution of simple associationalism emerges. Despite amendments made over the years, legal regulation reflects a historical period disconnected from the contemporary Italian religious landscape and the needs that have arisen from it. In Italy, agreements between the state and various religious confessions, supplemented by regional and local urban planning regulations, have had and continue to have a direct impact on strategies implemented by religious communities to establish places of worship. The universal interpretative ambiguity of national regulations and the persistence of a hierarchy of recognitions in both administrative and religious imaginings contribute to marginalization of the religious dimension within the city’s urban policies.

In Piedmont, the regulation of worship building construction is governed by regional law No. 15/1989 and subsequent modifications. The beneficiaries of public funds, along with the Catholic Church, are the religious confessions that have a nationally organized, widespread, and substantial presence, as well as significant establishment within the local community (Bossi 2024). Despite legislative gaps, in the city of Turin, diverse religions can rely on an institutional climate that is welcoming and open to dialogue, aiming to address legislative voids and combat discrimination arising from Italian legislation, which perpetuates existing disparities (Bossi and Ricucci 2023). Under current legislation, entities with legal recognition receive privileged forms of support, strengthening their power position while excluding those without state recognition from access to resources. This also hampers “efforts to improve the positioning of outsider confessions, contributing to defining their marginality within both local and national religious spheres” (Bossi 2020). The urban planning regulations inadvertently result in the exclusion of new minorities from resources, funds, and public lands. The increasing diversity of cultures, ethnicities, and religions within cities, due to globalization and immigration, has highlighted the multiple limitations and various deficiencies within legal systems “tethered to historical and socio-cultural periods that did not necessitate a concrete articulation of the respect for religious freedom for all, as countries were (or considered themselves to be) inherently monoreligious; Italy is no exception” (Bossi and Ricucci 2023). Therefore, places of worship within cities embody a significant realm of conquest and freedom. The very possibility of establishing a place of worship symbolizes social recognition, even prior to being an acquired right acknowledged by the state. For immigrants in particular, places of worship represent a safe space amidst the challenges of acclimating to a new country. Frequently, these sites also fulfill the social and material needs of the faithful, alongside their religious and spiritual requirements.

Within this context, an intriguing case in the city of Turin is represented by the Romanian Orthodox community, which is notable not only for its numerical strength, but also for its “accepted” status in terms of religious affiliation. This community is perceived as “close,” being linked to Christianity and the Catholic Church, as evidenced by the numerous religious venues provided by local dioceses for Orthodox worship. Coexistence is facilitated by both doctrinal proximity and intradenominational dialogue. Possession of citizenship from an EU member state is also significant, not only legally. This statistical reality finds a spatial reflection in the numerous places of worship that have proliferated since the latter half of the 20th century, particularly following the establishment of the Romanian Diocese in 2007, which coincided with Romania’s accession to the European Union. The Diocese achieved the legal status of “recognized cult” under the decree from the President of the Republic dated 12 September 2011, which granted it legal personality. In 2025, an agreement was signed with the Italian state that is currently awaiting government approval. Starting from the second half of the 20th century, various groups and subsidiary communities began to form in Turin, but the first church designated for Orthodox worship was the Romanian parish of Santa Parascheva, established in 1977. By 2025, the city comprises fourteen Orthodox churches, including key centers of Romanian Orthodoxy: the Church of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross, located in the historic city center; the Santa Parascheva church in a peripheral area; and the Church of the Forty Martyrs of Sebaste in Moncalieri, at the city’s boundary. Currently, eleven out of the fourteen Orthodox churches present in Turin are situated in spaces belonging to the Catholic diocese of the city (Bossi 2024). With the exception of newly constructed buildings, Romanian Orthodox sites are generally shared religious spaces, both diachronically and synchronically: the urban settlement of these religious groups follows various modes of sharing, ranging from coexistence to substitution (Giorda 2023, p. 17). In most cases, the Catholic Church has played a fundamental role in shaping the spatial strategy of Romanian Orthodoxy: approximately 80% of Romanian Orthodox parishes occupy Catholic buildings where worship is no longer conducted (Bossi and Giorda 2019). Faced with the practical impossibility of managing the entire ecclesiastical heritage, which is abundant relative to actual religious needs (Dimodugno 2023), the Catholic Church has adopted an open and dialogical approach to reuse of its worship spaces, collaborating with municipal political institutions and associations owning disused or partially used buildings, which have been granted—either partially or entirely, for short or extended periods—to Orthodox parishes. Typically, this involves conversion of the building and redefinition of its religious identity through blessing rites according to Orthodox traditions. By adopting a spatial approach that allows for understanding of the material and symbolic dynamics structuring interreligious interactions, it becomes crucial to study the power relations, connections, and dialogues between religious groups and the social, economic, and political forces that govern the management and occupation of these worship spaces within the city (Carta 2011).

Recent research conducted by Marco Guglielmi and Stefano Sbalchiero has called into question the hypothesis that sharing of worship places significantly enhances institutionalized interreligious dialogue. By analyzing data collected in three Italian cities (Bologna, Brescia, and Milan), the authors demonstrate that congregations sharing their spaces do not exhibit significantly higher involvement in interreligious activities compared to those that do not. Statistical analyses confirm the lack of significant correlations between sharing of spaces and engagement in interreligious, intercultural, or common celebrations. This suggests that spatial proximity alone is insufficient to foster structured forms of interreligious dialogue. The only notable trend identified was among Orthodox Christian congregations, which exhibited a higher percentage of participation in institutional interreligious initiatives while maintaining lower engagement in intercultural activities. Indeed, Orthodox spatial strategies have necessitated that these communities participate in interreligious activities organized by local public institutions and traditional religious authorities to facilitate the securing of shared places of worship with the majority religion, as well as to increase social credibility with local actors and enhance the public visibility of the church’s immigrant community (Guglielmi and Sbalchiero 2024).

7. Spatializing Dialogue: The Romanian Orthodox Church of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross in Turin

In this section, we will examine the Romanian Orthodox Church located in the historic center of Turin (Pignotti 2025; Giorda 2023). Utilizing Nagel’s conceptual framework (Nagel 2023), we will analyze spatial configurations, aesthetic elements, interactive dynamics, and material infrastructures to provide a deeper understanding of how the investigated site shapes the coexistence and dialogue between the Catholic and Orthodox communities.

The Church of Santa Croce has undergone a transformation from a Catholic religious site (denoted as religious X) to an Orthodox one (denoted as religious Y) in accordance with diachronic sharing, characterized as a replacement (Giorda 2023). Situated in Piazza Carlo Emanuele II, at the heart of the city within the Circoscrizione I district of Turin, the church is legally designated as property of the City of Turin, which is responsible for ownership, while the Romanian Orthodox Parish of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross (Patriarchate of Romania) manages its operations. Temporarily closed in the late 1990s, the church has served the Romanian Orthodox community since 2001, responding to its significant growth that the Church of Santa Parascheva could no longer accommodate. At present, the Orthodox community has a temporary usage agreement with the municipality, allowing them to utilize the choir and associated distribution spaces where their primary activities are concentrated.

The parish’s history reflects a complex web of inter-institutional and inter-confessional negotiations: the transfer of the building from the City of Turin to the Catholic Diocese, followed by its assignment to the Romanian Orthodox community, is the product of dialogue among various stakeholders aimed at ensuring the continued use of the worship site and addressing the needs of a burgeoning congregation. In 1985, the City of Turin proposed an alternative use for the building as a university classroom for students in the adjacent former convent; however, no decree for its decommissioning for secular uses was issued at that time, nor did the Archdiocese show interest in adopting it. Consequently, it remained in religious use without ever being formally decommissioned (Dimodugno 2023). Identification of this space for the Romanian community was facilitated by collaboration with the Diocese of Turin, which had obtained management authority over the worship site from the municipality. The Romanian Orthodox community was selected for various reasons: the diocese was aware of the overcrowding issues associated with the parish of Santa Parascheva and sought an entity capable of managing the building while preserving its designation as a house of worship. Initially, the church was intended to serve the Greek Orthodox community of the city, with Byzantine liturgies conducted by Catholic priests licensed as bi-ritualists, in the liturgical space of the church, where restoration works are currently incomplete. However, the larger Romanian community was deemed a more suitable candidate than the smaller Greek congregation. Currently, expenditures are shared equally between the City of Turin and the parish (with the parish covering lighting costs and the municipality handling heating, gutter inspections, and system maintenance).

Regarding the spatial configuration, which encompasses both the internal layout and the interaction with the surrounding environment, constitutive tension is evident between the Orthodox identity of the Romanian community worshipping at the site and the Catholic architecture of the building. The parish faces the street, positioned in Piazza Carlo Emanuele II (Figure 1) and Via Accademia Albertina, at a central urban location within the city’s second expansion from the late seventeenth century. The church’s entrance is lateral and somewhat obscured relative to the imposing façade of the main church on the square. From the exterior, the Orthodox parish is largely unrecognizable and, rather, appears as just another church; it is not identifiable as an Orthodox place of worship, as the edifice presents itself “as if” it were a Catholic church. This facade renders the parish nearly invisible in the urban spatial context. The sole indicators of the building’s identity are a gold plaque displaying the church’s name and a nearby glass case that provides details about the Romanian Orthodox presence, including the pastor’s name, the weekly service times, and the two associated organizations.

Conversely, Orthodox identity is prominently displayed within the church. The church’s layout encompasses the liturgical hall, the choir, and the adjacent distribution areas, including a library. The chapel that constitutes the church’s liturgical hall is currently undergoing restoration, as the refurbishment work funded by the City of Turin has not been executed, likely due to financial constraints. Therefore, the Romanian community predominantly gathers in the choir area, which, while spacious, does not sufficiently accommodate all congregants, especially during the Divine Liturgy on Sundays and specific festive occasions. The limited capacity compels many attendees to follow the service in corridors leading to the choir room, utilizing screens placed at the church’s entrance. Furthermore, during the COVID-19 pandemic, social distancing requirements prompted the community to use the liturgical hall, supplemented by screens and audio equipment. The presence of a sound system continues to allow the congregation to follow services from all areas of the parish. Thus, the hall is still utilized in this manner, informally made available by the Catholic Diocese, pending the commencement of the next phase of renovations (Figure 2).

Once the chapel restoration is completed, however, the liturgical hall cannot be permanently furnished, requiring temporary disassembly and reassembly of sacred elements for Sunday services, as the church will remain accessible for daily tourist visits, being under the purview of the City of Turin. On the upper floors, spaces entrusted to ecclesiastical and non-ecclesiastical entities (the Catholic Ecumenical Center and Jewish-Christian Fellowship) since the 2000s, which are not currently utilized by the assigned parties, are now being employed by the Orthodox community for administrative purposes and catechetical activities. One room serves as a chapel for personal prayer, dedicated particularly to Saint Filotea, the protector of distressed mothers, whose decoration adorns the space. Additionally, the parish residence on the first floor is occupied by the widow of the former pastor and her family.

The aesthetic dimension of the space pertains to the creation of environments that engage the senses and evoke religious experiences, emphasizing the significance of aesthetics in the perception and use of sacred spaces. Within the Church of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross, the Romanian Orthodox community has redefined its religious identity within an architecturally and symbolically “other” building, which is Catholic. The most evident aesthetic intervention is the internal transformation of the space; despite the coexistence of two communities that materialize a collection of religious symbols in a single place of worship, Orthodox identity dominates within the church. All spaces utilized by the community are entirely adorned with frescoes that depict sacred iconography pertinent to Orthodox worship (Figure 3 and Figure 4).

Even in the liturgical hall, religious artifacts and iconographic components are evident, alongside a television and chairs placed for listening to the Mass conducted in the choir room. The sacred furnishings have primarily been imported from Romania, and the iconostasis, completed two years ago, features all icons sourced from the homeland (Figure 5). In conjunction with the visibility of icons and sacred objects, the aesthetic experience is constructed through various sensory aspects, involving hearing, smell, and touch. The choir’s songs, which form a central element of Orthodox liturgy, accompany every celebration. Incense and the aromas of foods prepared for specific festivities circulate through the air, contributing to a recognizable olfactory landscape that engages not only community members (insiders), but also outsiders. Indeed, the visibility of the Orthodox community transcends mere visual perception, involving additional sensory dimensions that extend beyond the physical confines of the church and spill into the urban realm. Sounds, smells, and scents constitute tangible and perceptible signs of a “non-native” presence within the urban space. These sensory elements elude external control, asserting themselves in the landscape and actively contributing to the shaping of the public soundscape (Schafer 1994; Corbin 1998; Lorea and Hackett 2024) and smellscape (Classen et al. 1994; Harvey Ashbrook 2006; Meyer 2012). The sensory dimensions reveal what remains invisible to the eye and represent fragments of diversity within the lived public space they help to shape (Giorda 2023).

In the internal courtyard, a fundamental element of sacred choreography common to Orthodox churches persists: illumination created by the continuously burning candles contributes to the formation of a space that is not only visible but also audible, through their crackling, and fragrant with the scent of wax. Within this external area, enriched with plants and designated for personal prayer, candles lit in memory of the deceased are positioned to the right, while those lit for the living are placed to the left. Moreover, a memorial corner, adorned with photographs, icons, and an abundance of flowers and candles, has been dedicated to the late pastor of the church, Lucian Rosu, who passed away unexpectedly in 2020.

From an interactional perspective, the space does not facilitate relations between the Orthodox and Catholic communities in any meaningful way. Although formally jointly managed by the City of Turin and the Catholic Diocese, the liturgical area remains underutilized by the community and is effectively informally assigned for use by the Orthodox community. Concurrently, the location serves as a meeting point for tourists, visitors, and worshippers, thereby promoting broader and more diverse engagement. Specifically, the reopening of the liturgical hall following restoration is aimed at bolstering tourism and enhancing site visibility, aided by its strategic location with an entrance directly facing the majestic square.

Finally, infrastructural considerations reveal that the religious utilization of the space is significantly influenced by material constraints, geographical factors, and external opportunities. The building, undergoing partial and occasionally halted restoration works, exhibits a stark contrast between areas well-maintained by the community (such as the choir room) and more deteriorated sections (like the liturgical hall). The most crowded celebrations, such as Easter, necessitate the use of external public spaces, while associative and cultural activities are increasingly relocated to secondary venues acquired progressively in different parts of the city. This widespread network of locations constitutes a spatial extension of the parish, capable of articulating religious, social, and identity functions beyond the limits imposed by the worship site. In this manner, the community demonstrates its ability to activate a dispersed network, converting structural constraints into opportunities for expansion and consolidation of its presence in the urban landscape of Turin to address all the community’s needs. Simultaneously, the search for new spaces in Turin for the community is driven not solely by practical necessities, as the sites also take on significant symbolic meanings: on one hand, they represent a space for sharing and recognition of the identity of the individuals who frequent them; on the other, they symbolically signify the tangible presence of the community to the entire city.

While dialogue may have emerged from shared practical needs—as highlighted by various studies on Romanian Orthodox places of worship housed within Italian Catholic spaces, as well as the recent construction of new Orthodox churches throughout the peninsula—and although such developments can be traced back to pragmatic political approaches grounded in constructive ecumenical relationships (Guglielmi and Sbalchiero 2024), it is through spatial considerations and the engagement with space that dialogue between the two communities has been established, mediating relationships among individuals.

8. Conclusions

A spatial approach has allowed us to comprehend the material and symbolic dynamics that underpin interactions, negotiations, and geographies of encounter in interreligious dialogue. This methodology is instrumental in highlighting the symmetries, strategies, and forms of agency that emerge in the construction and habitation of shared space. Notably, analysis of urban spaces in Turin and examination of the Romanian Orthodox Church of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross through the categories proposed by Nagel have facilitated validation of Fabretti’s theoretical lens focused on mutual respect within shared religious sites. Indeed, our investigation into the locality has proven crucial for understanding the mechanisms by which space shapes dialogue between different religious communities in their intrareligious or interdenominational relations. Moreover, this religious site serves as an exemplary case, as it makes visible the tensions, negotiations, and forms of resilience inherent to religious presence in plural society, while also offering a valuable lens for analyzing the localization strategies adopted by the Romanian Orthodox community and the crucial role played by the Catholic Diocese in the spatialization process of this community.

A clear dichotomy is evident between external perception of the building and the internal experience it offers. The Orthodox community expresses its identity both symbolically and materially solely within the church; externally, it remains entirely invisible from an architectural standpoint. Physical boundaries are transcended by immaterial elements constituting the community’s rich heritage, such as the choir’s melodies, the scents of specific foods prepared for designated festivities and liturgies, and the potent fragrance of incense that permeates the surroundings. In fact, despite the visual invisibility that characterizes Orthodox churches hosted within former Catholic buildings that obscure their identity, the Romanian community is sensed from the outside through soundscapes and smellscapes merging and intertwining with the urban environment. These aspects illustrate how non-discursive encounters enable people to engage in dialogue through spatial interactions, bypassing verbal exchanges while utilizing sensory experiences that foster familiarity with mutual differences.

Within the church, notwithstanding the structural limitations imposed by the building and the increasing numbers of the Orthodox community, the spaces and their materiality generate adaptive practices and forms of mutual respect. The Orthodox community also utilizes areas not formally allocated by the Catholic Diocese, which, in turn, continues to informally provide necessary environments to meet the needs of Orthodox worship. Mutual respect, as conceived of not merely as a mental disposition but as situated in action and performative practice (Fabretti 2024), is negotiated daily through forms of respectful coexistence and recognition of the other. In this sense, this site does not merely host; it actively contributes to configuring and shaping dialogue between communities within a relationship grounded in reciprocity rather than mere tolerance or coexistence. A prime example is represented by the liturgical hall, which, once the renovations are complete, will be reopened by the City of Turin for tourism purposes. This prospect presents an additional challenge for the dynamics and relationships among the stakeholders; in fact, it will necessitate that the Orthodox community utilize the space in a makeshift and disorderly manner, engaging in the assembly and disassembly of sacred choreography for the Sunday liturgy, a process that “trains” both parties through the experience of discontinuity to redefine their respective identities in mutual respect. Indeed, expressions of respect do not confine themselves to spatial embodiment, but also extend to material assets, underlining the notion that objects not only facilitate but also transform social actions through their physical presence. Future challenges will involve maintaining this delicate balance in the face of significant spatial transformations, continuing to inhabit the shared space in a peaceful manner and perceiving alterity as a resource rather than as an obstacle.