I was in the coastal town of Vung Tau, where Typhoon Durian hit some weeks ago. As I mentioned in my previous post, it claimed some 40 lives for the short time that it hit. Our guide told us that it came at 4am, which was a good thing, since most people were indoors. It stayed for just a few short hours, but caused a fair bit of damage. We could still see quite a few houses with their rooftops blown off, but I couldn't get no clear pictures, since the bus was on the move.
But I digress.
Overlooking the town is a giant statue of Christ on a hill. Or for the army guys, a knoll. I'd say it's a little bit higher than Bukit Timah hill, but not as steep. It was built by Viet Catholics in the 1970s (Vietnam is 12% Catholic, demographics fans).
Anyway, it's a long, winding road to the top. Mommy gave up about three-quarters of the way through, but I was determined that day. You walk and you walk and you walk and then you come to the final staircase:
And appropriately enough, there are two angels by the side of this particular staircase:
So you take a little walk up, and you get closer. And finally, you see Him in all His glory:
(That's my father by the side there.)
In fact, if you go closer and scale the little staircase at the base of the statue, you can actually touch the feet of Christ.
So what's the point of this story?
Well, graven images aside, I realised that I climbed a mountain to reach Christ that day. In reality, it's really not all that difficult to come to Him. If we find ourselves scaling mountains, running through valleys, and what not, it's not because He places obstacles between us and Him. We simply didn't know, or didn't want to know, the simplest path to Him. And yet somehow, when we have finally reached Him, and seen Him face to face, we know it's worth it. And you can only fall silent before the glory of God.
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