The Stocking Feet Effect

Many people are familiar with the habit of removing one's shoes before entering the house. Perhaps the oldest reference to this is God's admonition to Moses on the mount to "put off thy shoes from off thy feet, for the place whereon thou standest is holy ground..." (See Exodus 3:5) It would seem that the habit of such removing of one's shoes is a manifestation of respect for the sanctity of a place. 

More than fifty of the Vietnamese Saints from north and south, and an added 15 or more from Phnom Penh (not a Vietnamese city) visited the LDS Temple in Manila this past week, putting off their worldly shoes to enter a most sacred space and the figurative, if not sometimes also literal, presence of the Lord. The effect of this period of covenant-making and spiritual rededication will be profound, truly unfathomable in their individual lives, but also for many many more both living and deceased, who will be blessed for their efforts, their sacrifices to prepare, and their changed lives as they return.

         

The home is also one of the sacred spaces in our lives, and hence very naturally one of those places where the shoes should come off and reverence rendered. We recall the architectural neccessity we learned of while living in Maine of having a "mud room" where the traipsing through the mud  during "mud season" (one of the recognized four seasons of the year along with "not quite spring," "still winter" and "construction") and at other times, could be left behind before entering the cleaner and more sacred spaces of the rest of the home. While our house here does not have such a dedicated room, it does like many others nevertheless have space to accomodate this tradition of leaving behind the dirt and detritus of the street when entering the house. In our case it is the shoe closet, which also conveniently has space for wet ponchos, motorbike helmets and umbrellas. We have more space than we need, thus allowing 

        Guests to use the space as well, or a shoe-maven like Ismelda Marcos to move in after us!

I previously posted the photo of the mission home in Phnom Penh, which has a dual function as a living space and a work space, with all the shoes accrued on the front steps. Each had such character, indicative of the varied lives and experience, not to mention personalities, of their wearers.

                                   

It will be a while before we have that many elders and sisters crowding into our mission home or office at one time. But we have discovered that our 72 floor office building tends to perpetuate the tradition of removing one's shoes before entering an office space where people work. Down the hall from the mission office, the scene looks like this:

                        

In other offices, the shoes don't accumulate at the doorway but workers are seen removing their shoes before going to their workspaces. So taking this convention to heart, Sister Vanwagenen astutely had our office furniture supplier construct the suitably dignified receptacle for Moses' sandals when he enters our hallowed ground.

                        

The 50 cm shoehorn atop the shoeboard (like cupboard you know) is a luxury for Moses' advanced age and needs to get his shoes back on while the nearby chairs are occupied by other missionaries or if his girth impedes the reach for the heel of his sandals- Thanks to Elder Noorda for sure.

So we come to the crux of this essay, the question I know you're all waiting to answer-- what is the deep meaning of this? What is the impact emotionally, psychologically and spiritually of removing one's shoes as one approaches a workplace? For me, as one who initially resisted the notion of having to do this (mind you they do not usually do this in the hospitals where I have visited, though they will often replace their street shoes with something more suited to their "whites" especially in surgery or the clinical departments,) the notion of removing my shoes has become a privileged reminder that I am entering an encounter with deity, and I can offer my work with a sense of reverence for Him whose work I am really trying to do. I find I can walk a bit more tenderly and carefully to avoid stepping on the fallen aligator clip physically, but also emotionally avoid stamping hard on a tender feeling or sensitivity. I can listen for the voice from the burning bush more readily when I am reminded I have humbled myself by taking off my shoes. I can leave behind the taint of the busy street or the dirty byway and allow my decisions to be made in greater purity of mind or heart. 

So as we consider how much we can save on cleaning costs by not having to vacuum or clean the carpets as deeply or often, I hope we can also count the saving of face, the saving of souls, and the saving of wasted effort from having to retrace our mis-steps with another's feelings. 

It's good to work in your stocking feet.

    

     

Clouds and Approaching Rain over Hanoi

                          "The sky is beautiful".  Sister Reina Gazzoni, Cordoba, Argentina, 1979

Sometimes you can see the mountains

Hanoi is a big, bustling, Asian city, and like lots of them, has it's good share of overcast days and smog.

But every once in a while, after a rain, if the clouds lift a bit, we can see the mountains.

Golden Plates in Vietnam

Joseph Smith's account of a record engraved on golden plates which he translated and published as the Book of Mormon in 1829, created no small bit of dis-belief among his peers who regarded the matter as somewhat preposterous. But it might not have raised even an eyebrow among the ruling class in Hue at the time. It turns out the Nguyen Dynasty was already acquainted with the practice of recording important events such as the ascension of kings, the coronation of Queen mothers, or Queen grandmothers, on gold plates, or silver plates gilded in gold.

                       

Elder Vanwagenen came across mention of an exhibit at the Museum of National History recently, so with a few hours to spare on a Saturday morning, we decided to check it out. The exhibit runs until early in August, so you have time to come see for yourself.

The exhibit claims that the first Nguyen ruler, Gia Long, was behind the idea for the first of these created just before Joseph Smith was born. But needless to say, they were not circulated, but rather quite closely guarded, and have not been displayed until just now. 

                       

The books each have four binding rings, and are just smaller than an A4 piece of paper. Some consist of just a few sheets, perhaps five, counting the front and back cover, meaning that the contents are rather brief. But then how much would one want to say about appointing one's mother-in-law Queen mother? A few numbered up to 13 sheets or leaves.

                       

      

As can be seen, the decor on the covers is rather finely detailed metal tooling, with the major motif being that of the dragon, a royal symbol adopted from the Chinese influence, along with clouds indicating the height and majesty and divinity of the king I think. 

                       

  

The contents or inscriptions/engravings within each book are done using Chinese script. But quite interestingly, the brush strokes themselves form the construct of the engraving, rather than the engraving tool being used in lieu of or as the caligrapher's brush. That adds greatly to the level of workmanship required to prepare the book I think, but may also make it more readable. Each page contains five columns of characters, with up to 12 characters in a column, which I believe is a poetic structure itself of the time. 

Along with the gold or golden books, several unique "chops" formed of gold or gilt silver, were displayed as accompanying the books, a further symbol of the royalty or official nature of the person's new position. (One of the key issues with regard to the recent recognition event for the church was the nature of what the stamp or chop would say. These have a long a rich tradition both functionally and as an art form.) 

                      

                      

It may be that the King or Queen's signature was as illegible as many doctors signatures are, and that using the standardized, even idealized, chop made it much more universally recognizable in the era before electronic sign-on and signatures to ensure authenticity.