Memorials and “Final” chapters

What we hope most to have accomplished in the few months we have lived, loved and wandered among the peoples of Vietnam is to have embodied in some way the example and teachings of Jesus Christ. Looking backwards as we now can on the paths we have taken in this journey, and more especially on the lives of the people we have met, loved and served, we see so many interesting stories, and so much of the sorrows, sadness and struggles of life, mixed wonderfully with moments of joy, happiness and fulfillment. As in Vietnamese cuisine, the sweet, spicy, salty, hot and savory, together with flavors and sensations not well described in English, come together to make a marvelous fusion of experiences that intensify and reinforce the feeling of satisfaction and fulness. So is life as a servant of God on a mission to bless his children. There are many flavors, textures and sensations that enrich us.

But unlike a meal which comes to a pleasing climax and resolves with a little “mouth decoration” as desserts here are termed, in a mission with real people and real lives, the course is often not finished and fulfilled by just one person. We are forced to put aside many books seemingly in mid-sentence, still hanging on what verb will dominate the remainder of the story and which object will be the consummation of the phrase. We know there are yet many chapters still to be written, twists and turns in plot and theme before the grand story is revealed and the Author’s mind and will are revealed.

We first met Brother Sharp two years ago on one of our first visits to the Mekong. We stayed in the village hotel, with it’s hard bed and the geckos prowling the walls for any insects that ventured in. We met him and his daughter at the head of the dirt path that lead in a kilometer or so to their home on the edge of the rice paddies. Flat and green, yet soured by a dry season that meant salt intrusion, those fields seemed in some ways a metaphor for their lives. He and members of his family had joined the church while living in Cambodia and had felt unity with the saints they met. They weren’t looking for “the true church” per se, but enjoyed the fellowship and accepted the doctrines. But when they moved back to Vietnam to resume work as the opportunities improved, they were far from the pleasures of that fellowship, and the dry ground invited other influences into their lives that soured the crop a bit.

So while they welcomed our visit, they had a different perspective on their spiritual needs at that time, and their affiliation with the larger international church didn’t seem essential to what they sought day to day. They prayed, they sang, they gathered together from time to time, security forces willing, and that was enough.

Our path took us back to their province 18 months later. Sudden losses had entered the family when a son-in-law had passed away suddenly, as though hit by lightening, and their daughter was now struggling to keep that arm of the  family going. As we shared their sorrows and thought about the blessings of being able to bear up the burdens placed on us, we invited them to consider whether temple worship might not offer them strength and comfort. Again we were warmly welcomed as friends, but understanding and hunger for the full plate of gospel blessings was still not evident. I had thought it unlikely following that visit that we would see them again. But circumstances can change.

While planning our trip for the Mission Branch conference this past weekend, word arrived that Brother Sharp had himself passed away and would be buried the following day. We couldn’t make the five hour trip for that, but determined to include a visit there in advance of the branch conference.

The last kilometer of the trip to the blue and white house was now paved in concrete, but the sun was still hot and much  of the path very exposed. The rice was again planted, now just showing sprouts for the first rainy season crop, the paddy partially flooded already from the first week of rain. We found the house, where now were two graves, one still in the final stages of construction, and the other completed but not fully adorned as a more prosperous setting might have required.

As we hugged, and held hands, shared faith and offered comfort a renewed sense of unity and a deeper desire seemed to arise in the hearts of not just the widow or her children, but also in the hearts and minds of their many friends to whom Bro Sharp had been the group minister, ex officio and pro tempore. “Will you come and bring us into the fold, we who have been cast out, and forbidden from meeting” by those in authority or of greater means, was the plea both spoken and implicit as we talked.

I had not ever dedicated a grave before, not in English, much less Vietnamese, but the blessing of comfort and hope from the ministering of authorized servants with priesthood keys, seemed clearly to have brought us there for that purpose, and through the accomplishment of that end, the beginning of a new chapter.

I have wondered how the spirit led early missionaries to Benbow farm where so many were waiting to receive the gospel and who became a vital infusion of strength and faith into the developing church. And I have wondered how missionaries found my ancestors living and working the farmland many, many miles from Stockholm or Uppsala. It is less a mystery to me now, as I see how farmboys from tiny villages in Nghe An become missionaries and then branch presidents, how the children of officers and magnates from distant towns and counties receive the gospel and rise up to bless their fellows and families as Zion is established. And I can see how the congregations of the faithful, through their prayers and entreaties, also bring the servants of God to their doors to minister, and comfort, and teach. It is only the beginning of course, and the many chapters and sequels yet to be written will no doubt be even more engaging and marvelous, but it is a tide of gathering, of refining, of building, that will not be turned back. And it will metaphorically turn the intrusion of salt that sterilizes the land into a salting of the earth that redeems and seasons the abundant harvest.

Wheat fields ready for harvest Simtuna, Sweden- Quê ngoại của tôi

Conference Season

In Vietnam the dry season has a particular meaning for rest, rejuvenation and preparation. In some areas the more lax work schedule meant also that certain vices like drunkenness and abuse might creep in. Once the rains begin however, the workload shifts into higher gear though, and signals it is time to put away idle mischief and wrong-doing. 

Growing up as a boy in Utah with a good number of relatives on various sides of the family, I became used to the “reunion season” that came in conjunction with summertime each year, and on occasional other days of note. I had a lot of cousins, most of whom seemed so much older than I and whose names I could never recall, given that we only saw each other one time each year in many instances. But it was evident to me that the older aunts and uncles really thrived on being together and seeing the changes in the rising generation of nieces, nephews, children and grandchildren. Getting together with those same cousins now continues to be joyful, and one aspect of life we have missed while serving far from any of them. Yet in another sense, we have become more united with them as we have read and shared in their missions to far flung corners of the world that we are unlikely to ever visit. (See http://belgiancaldwells.blogspot.com/ and TrinidadThackerays.blogspot.com/, for example.)

The gathering of Latter-Day Saints for conferences is a habit instituted from the earliest beginnings of the church, but I believe has even more ancient origins in Old Testament festivals and holy days, the Passover in spring, the days of atonement and new year in the fall, with lesser festivals in between. For modern Latter-Day Saints, these are similar times of reunion, a true gathering of brothers and sisters in a wonderful extended gospel family. There is the same joyful renewal of acquaintance I witnessed among my older cousins, aunts and uncles as a boy. And there is also the same marveling at the growth of the younger ones among us, new additions to the family, new skills and experiences gained, and new responsibilities taken on.

Mission presidents have the opportunity to preside over the conferences of nascent church units each year and that has been our privilege with the first conferences of the recently formed districts in Hanoi and Ho Chi Minh City. In Hanoi the shared sense of becoming something significant was evident as the District had to rent a hotel ballroom in order to accommodate all those who wished to attend, and the number attending this signal event exceeded by 10% the average attendance at Sacrament meetings of the three (now four) branches included in the District. And of course, any reunion has not truly happened unless it is recorded in countless photo groups of family members!

The experience for the southern saints was no less singular. Instead of using a hotel however, they crowded into all the rooms of the villa in Thu Duc now serving the new branch by the same name. The chapel space and large classrooms were each filled to capacity with saints, some of whom were seeing the new space for the first time. Video and audio feeds from the chapel were broadcast in the entire building so all could feel and see the spirit of the Lord. And then after the conference sessions were over they spilled onto the covered portico and grassy grounds to celebrate with a shared meal while the concluding business of ordinations and settings apart needed to complete the goal of more fully “establishing the church” were carried out.

The road map was laid out for the next six months of District growth and development, along with a view of the longer term organizational and personal development needed, which include matching the District Leadership to the branch training and support needs, as well as continuing to sustain a similar path of organizational development as the smaller branches migrate from being very basic units to more “adolescent” branches, and ultimately mature branches yearning to be wards. From the early 2017 division that created the Quan Sau branch for example, the growth in missionary work and strengthening and finding members has seen them grow from a very small unit to one that can now support and sustain a three-hour meeting schedule, and are ready to organize a small primary for the rambunctious boys who come with parents and relatives each week. Like time-lapse photography, the conferences allow us to see dramatic changes in the church from a few hours of meeting together twice a year.

For our missionaries, particularly our senior missionaries who serve quite far apart and can often feel isolated or disconnected from each other and the greater good they are part of, we have found it useful to organize semi-annual reunions or conferences as well. The most recent one, nestled tightly in between the two District Conferences, was held in the highlands of Vietnam, about 40 km from Buon Ma Thuot on Lak Lake. The setting was quiet and restful, and the landscape and views across the lake and valley were beautiful, particularly in the still of the early mornings. We learned a lot from being together, and the conversations over meals and on outings were as important in building comraderie and esprit de corps as the updates on our efforts and fine-tuning our mission culture.

In some areas there is always harvesting to do

The day's work quickly threshed

I enjoyed seeing more into a sub-culture of Vietnam in the area, which is populated by many M’Nong and Ede people, among others. Their characteristic “long houses” are extended family homes which do not feature the traditional “ban tho” or ancestral shrine seen in most traditional Vietnamese homes. It was also remarkable to see the prevalence of Christianity among these groups. Christian churches by my rough observations easily outnumbered Buddhist shrines along the routes we traveled.

Men and Women enter separately traditionally

Feed corn put out to dry- the wandering cow liked it until the slingshot-wielding boy on the porch got to him!

Christian Burying ground- note the number of small infant plots

Zone Conferences are also wonderful reunions as well for us. The three zones all held day-long conferences following their respective District Conference. While coming far more frequently than most other conferences, they also serve to establish the church more firmly, not through sustaining new leaders, but by giving young leaders the chance to practice training others, by providing spiritual uplift and renewal of friendships and ties with other missionaries. We discovered in one for example, that we had almost an entire MTC group of nine missionaries serving together in different capacities in one Zone. They loved being together again, and some were entreating me to make them companions again!

Although we plan and prepare these in counsel with the zone leaders and sister training leaders, I am always pleased when new things come out of them. Sometimes in order to really learn, we need to be standing and speaking. Then revelation comes. The “aha!” light comes on in our minds and important answers are given. That has been the most important lesson we have learned, and tried to impress on our fellow-servants. Christ leads his church and instructs his saints, and he does so particularly when they gather together in one accord, in conferences.

For example, we talked a lot about the ritual of baptism, and why we need to experience a ritual rather than just signing our name on a form to enter the church. The connection to our covenant in being baptized to “always remember him” then became apparent. I can’t recall how many times I have signed my name to something- reports, checks (back in the paper check days), receipts, invoices, deeds and who knows what else. But I can clearly remember the experience of being baptized by my father at age 8. It is indelibly etched into my memory, and helps me to always remember Him.

Passing by, my new friend invited me in!

We also talked and thought a lot about Christ’s atonement, by which I mean his willingness to personally assume the pain and suffering for sins (our own or those of others, such as Adam) that would separate us from God, our Heavenly Father, thus allowing us again to enter His presence, in complete purity and wholeness. It’s a concept that can be difficult to grasp. But as my assistants demonstrated teaching this, they likened it to an everyday experience here, a rice cooker. The hard grains are ultimately made delicious by the addition of water and controlled heat, and so our lives are changed and made delicious when we allow the Savior’s love (“living water”) to surround us and enlarge our souls. Don’t see it that way? Well, it made sense at the time.

I thought of how much of my life I have dealt with cancer- diagnosis and treatment. Then I saw that Christ offers us both the correct means of diagnosis, as he lovingly guides us through the spirit to recognize our sins and weaknesses, and then to the complete and total healing that can come as we bring those burdens to him who carries “healing in his wings.” It is the quintessence of “personalized medicine” for the soul. We don’t have to look very far in our lives to find “types” of Christ, things that teach us what he is like, what his sacrifice means, and how we can begin to bring it into our lives, whether to soften us up and make us more “delicious” or to heal the gaping wounds in our spirit, both those that are self-inflicted through our own folly, or those that are imposed because we were a bystander, or even an intended victim.

I’ve become a fan of conferences, these marvelous times of renewal of relationships, of strengthening one another, of being edified and bolstered, of receiving revelation and insight. Thankfully there are still a few more such experiences ahead in my life.