Gathering, Tagalog Style

By the way...


The images off to the left and right are mosaics of some of the images that we saw in Macau.  These are the amazing pictures they make ON THE SIDEWALK with tile.    I can just see the job description for these sidewalks -- "make a sidewalk with sea creatures, boats and fish."  Now I could go back and insert them in the last blog where they go, but I need the pictures here anyway.


A Church Meeting a Day Keeps the Devil Away....

We talked in the everyday branch last week -- this is for the sisters who can't get Sunday holiday.  Church starts every day at one and goes until four.  The same talks are given every day -- the branch president has earned his exaltation through glazed eyes and church, Groundhog-style.  The nice thing is that if he works it out right, he can sleep through four/fifths of each talk every day, and by the end, still get the whole thing.  It's "Second Chance for the Weary" Church.  The problem is that the talks starts sounding pretty "samey" (using Marcie's word)  -- it's the "Did-I-Just-Say-This-Or-Did-I-Say-It-Yesterday" syndrome.

So, of course, to satisfy my natural perversity, I am going to write the talk here.  You can skip it.  But if you do, you'll miss two jokes and one major announcement.

The Lord gathers purposefully, intently.  We are not where we are - our families, our places of worship, our jobs - by fortuity or the lack of it.  We have been gathered by a just and deeply-linked God to face the custom-made challenges and joys of our lives.  Happy or unhappy accidents are fictions of the unfaithful.  We are where we are and we and the Lord must claim responsibility.  At the very core of reality, responsibility and free will still bear sway.  The subatomic quark is not immune to the beckoning of an ever-present and kind God.

We can, and sometimes do, refuse to be gathered.  The Lord compares me to an ox - I had thought a more likely comparison might be a hummingbird or an eagle, but I guess the ox works too.  The ox is a gelded bull - a steer taught to labor.  It can survive almost anywhere, even on prairie grass and sagebrush.  It doesn't like to work hard and can not be guided by rein and bit.  So, a driver walks by the ox and prompts him to proper direction with a sharp stick, a goad.  Some oxen kick back at the pricking of the goad.  I do sometimes.  But that doesn't stop the pricking.    (Jesus to Paul:  It is hard for thee to kick against the pricks.)  Eventually, we plod down the right path or rear up in full-scale revolt.

The 43rd Section of the D&C:  "O, ye nations of the earth, how often would I have gathered you together as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, but ye would not?  how oft have I called upon you by the mouth of my servants, and by the ministering of angels..."

I must've been a mischievous child or, at least, I have the memory of being a mischievous child.  In Downey on my grandfather's farm, he kept animals and we had a barnyard.  The chickens that we had were not pristinely kept in cages, but wandered the corral.  My grandfather made sure that spring was accompanied by fertilized eggs under a heat lamp.  The chicks hatched and for a couple of weeks we had little yellow balls of fluff wandering around.  If I ran into the corral and yelled - which happened occasionally - the hen would raise her wings and all the chicks scurried under; then she lowered her wings.  They were gathered - for protection and safety, possibly for companionship.  So we get gathered - the Wings (with healing in them) are outstretched and we often simply refuse to come.  The world is collapsing about us and safety is just a faith's-leap away.  We are mesmerized by some little sin and scurrying under the Healing Wings just doesn't seem to be worth the trouble.


Christ says again in the Americas after the destruction and the calamities that presaged His coming:  "And again how oft would I have gathered you as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, yea, O ye people of the house of Israel, who have fallen; yea, O ye people of the house of Israel, ye that dwell at Jerusalem, as ye that have fallen; yea, how oft would I have gathered you as a hen gathereth her chickens, and ye would not."  He says it three times, obviously and simultaneously feeling the pain and retching despair of those still alive.


Those safe in Zion, members of the Kingdom (not perfect, some not even very nice) can count some of the reasons they have fled under the Wings of Christ.  


Why are you here?

1. You are here to be safe, to be protected by a determined God, from the chafing, abrasive, corroding influences of a world being managed by demonic minions.
2. You here to be nourished, fed feast-full with scripture and the spoken word.
3. You are here for companions, who are interested in the health of your soul, and would comfort you.
4. You are here to be active - The Kingdom of God is built through Doing, through Power.  Satan's most attractive temptations sap strength, bleed power.  Consider the addictions - they're just draining.
5. You are to be Chosen, to be of the Elect, to be Heirs.  The 29th sections says "it is his good will to give you the kingdom."
6. You are here to rejoice.  Under the Wings of Christ is a joyful place.  The dreariness of the world belongs out there.  Hell is dreary.  Hell is cold.  Hell is quiet.

The "together" of "gathering together" may not be as obvious but it is as important.  I have often thought about the necessity of a brick-and-mortar Church.  It surely would be as simple - and cheaper - to issue each member an iPad (Could I ever get a deal on 14 million iPads!!)  and have them tune in to a group broadcast every Sunday.  We'd get Church at home all year long -- no need for expensive meetinghouses, hours spent commuting, meetinghouse maintenance expense, dressing up, bathing.  You just saunter to the living room, switch on the iPad or TV and, voila, instant Church.  Sacrament talks would always be perfect, given, of course, by the Twelve. Sunday school lessons would be presented by professors of FARMS and BYU.  Ancient Hebrew scholars would unravel the Old Testament, Priesthood lessons would be prepared in advance and only a single handmade lace tablecloth would suffice the needs of the Relief Society for the entire world.  Tithing would be paid by credit card, online.  Most coordination meetings would be unnecessary - testimonies could be done on Skype, Nursery duty would be forgotten, because all the un-housebroken would be residing at home working only on their parents' mental demise.  Why don't we do this?  Economy of time and money would seem to demand it.

The reason is the "together" part.  When we are in close proximity to each other, we feel each other's spirit.  I know when you're black and grieving and you know the same about me.  When embers of a fire are spread, they die.  When they are gathered they burst into fire.  That spiritual flame is worth all the money, all the time, all the trouble, all the stumbling of imperfect saints, all the wailing of the babies, all the white hair of all the bishops and branch presidents.  We worship better when we are physically together.  I am more easily edified when you are in front of me.  I am more easily quickened when you bear your testimony in the same room with me, right there.  Your grief and pain becomes corporate when you are beside me.  I feel it beyond my own cognition and I grieve with you.  I know you when I can look into your face undigitized.  And I can give you every opportunity to know me, to apperceive my unrestrained certainties, my joy of Christ.

There are no accidents.  We don't drift on winds of chance.  We have more than hope and less than dread.  We are called as children of Christ, together and personally.  He knows us and guides us with all the intensity of a fierce love.  That is my testimony.

Oh.  You can probably find at least two jokes back there.  And I lied about the announcement.

I seem to always be on a lighter note, but.... on a lighter note.  I have encountered Octopus Salad and come off conqueror.  There's a little Italian place over on Jaffe Road called Antipasto and we stopped there one evening a couple of weeks ago.  They had a set lunch (like a Blue Plate special, only not Blue, No plate, and sometimes not special) of Octopus Salad, pasta and dessert.  I bit.  When you think of Octopus salad, don't you think of a big green salad with strips of calamari sprinkled on top?  I do.  Uh...I did.  The salad was on a small plate, four small leaves of lettuce in the center and seven little red octupi dancing around the edge.  They looked like something out of Fantasia.  These little guys were cute -- baby octopi grilled in chili sauce.   It's not that I have a problem eating baby octopi tentacles.  I just don't want to bond with my food before I eat it. But I finally got it down -- baby tentacles and all.  I figured thay really had no good place to go, and my stomach was as bad as any.


We love you all,


Elder and Sister Alley

Macau and a Memorable Baptism

This weekend's experiences ranged from the sublime to the( over-the-top) ridiculous.  President Anthony Perkins had encouraged, (by  giving permission) to the senior couples to go to Macau for the Saturday water show, with the advise to "avoid the casino pits".  I had no idea that Macau was the center  of  "casino pits", with the potential of becoming the  Las Vegas of the China Sea-South Eastern Asia Area, so,  we took his counsel to heart.

We took a "ferry" which, to my disappointment, exceeded speeds up to 60 mph (it was called a Turbo Jet).  I had entertained visions of being out on the water, feeling the salt spray against my humid body,  enjoying, albeit briefly, the distance from the heat and noise of the city.  As it was,  boarding the ferry,  I had the sinking feeling that I had been dead wrong;  the interior looked suspiciously like the interior of a plane.  The air bag and  printed  "instructions for emergency evacuation"  in the side pocket did not bode well for a "nature trip."

We covered a 55 mile trip to Macau in about 45 minutes (that does not include the hour walk to the pier, or the trip on the "Ling-Ling" (trolley) to access the pier).  After disembarking, we spent the afternoon exploring the early ( 1550's) Portuguese influence on the culture and the architecture via the ruins of the Mount Fortress, built by the Jesuits in the early 17th century.  The Fortress constitutes the city's principal military defense and offered a panoramic view of the city.  On its west is the Ruins of St. Paul's,  the historic monument of the Centre.  I brought a picnic lunch which was eaten, but not shared by Dad and I because he left to see the fortress and I opted for the Macao Museum.

It houses three floors of artifacts representing the cultural exchange between the Chinese and the Portuguese, including Chinese opera, Chinese medicine, Chinese puppets,  their infamous firecrackers ( guaranteed to burn brighter and explode w/ more fierceness than any other), marriage traditions/clothing and Macao myths.  Dad enjoyed circling the perimeter of the fortress and viewing all 57 of the cannons mounted at intervals along the top of the wall.

The most spectacular and absolutely unique feature of Macau are the original Portuguese-laid black & white tiled sidewalks with themes from the sea, i.e., squid, fish, boats, undulating waves, nautical equipment et. al.  ending in a large fountain at the entrance to the old Portuguese buildings.

Beaten by the sun and humidity and the walk on the ancient stones, we boarded a bus marked "City of Dreams",  which promised a free ride to the venue for the Water Show.  I had no idea what  "The House of Dancing Water" performance actually entailed. I soon found out when  the show opened with a large cadre of spectacular, finely tuned/toned Chinese gymnasts who began the show with high dives from a nondeterminate height (it was too distant to estimate!).  The entire evening was woven around the pulse of very loud drums, blaring music (mostly  based on a 7 tone scale) and a  loose, fragmented story of unrequited love, fierce warrior battles played by diving soldiers in the eternal struggle between good and evil. It was "Dante's Inferno" against the backdrop of China, coolies and ancient/traditional themes.

The gymnast/dancers, arrayed in stunning gold/silver costumes,  spent the performance besting themselves with each subsequent act.  It was an entire evening of sequential  "can you top this-es!?"   The show included   water stunts: fountains, flashing lights, rain storms emanating from 150 ft. above our heads, the stage floor going from water to solid and back again, dives from 100 ft., motorcycles doing flips over, around and above each other, an artificial giraffe, powered by people on stilts inside the paper mache animal,  walking about by the edge of the water, cage's with people going under the water (and not coming back) and a Masai warrior who was so limber even his eyebrows were double-jointed.  He folded up into a box that wasn't even two foot high.   I think it was intended to be a Macau version of the Las Vegas "Cirque de Sole" that I have heard about.  Now I never need worry about  queuing up for tickets to that;  I have "seen it all" as the saying goes.

The best part of the weekend was Sunday and a sublimely sweet baptismal service with a Phillipina woman who has been attending Church for just a few weeks while being taught by the Elders.  The Phillipina sisters are such good missionaries, take the mandate so seriously to spread the Gospel, that they should be air-lifted to the Wasatch Front to show us "how it is done".  They exhibit very little reserve or shyness when it comes to sharing the Gospel and they, in word and deed, actually feel the urgency to get it shared with as many as possible.  Their spirit and enthusiasm for the work is contagious and we are all blessed by their shared commitment as they work together to "find" those to teach.  They simply won't come to Church without bringing someone, so we always have investigators.  I believe this is the fruition of the vision of The Brethren when they discuss the most efficacious way to share the true and restored Gospel.

All of this happened, of course, while you were listening to the Conference addresses which we are still waiting for.  One advantage of being Hong Kongian is that we schedule the conferences when we want (11 to 1, and 2-4 on Sat.  5-7 for Priesthood.)  Love you, miss you.  Mom (and Dad)