Vertical moments in China

Ted always tells people I married him so I’d never get lost again.
However, I was in China without him and getting lost in a strange country terrified me, so during the tour I stuck like a burr to our group.
When David, our guide, handed out receivers and ear phones, he told us we wouldn’t be able to pronounce his Chinese name, but his English was fairly good.
Hopefully, he said, as we placed the ear phones in our ears and turned up the receivers, we could hear his patter no matter where we were.
Our first tour stop was the Leifeng Pagoda in Hongzhou, located on the peak of Xizhao Mountain and along the southern shore of Westlake. The pagoda was the site of an ancient Chinese legend about White Snake.
The story, one of China’s Four Great Folktales, has undergone many evolutions since it was first written down between 618 and 907 A.D., but basically it’s a tale of a white snake spirit, Bai Suzhen, who changed into a gorgeous woman.
Her surprising change, like a snake shedding its skin, represented personal growth and transformation. During her ferry ride across Westlake, a storm arose, so Xu Xian, a handsome scholar, sheltered her under his umbrella.
They fell deeply and immediately in love and married, the marriage symbolizing a love transcends boundaries, including the separation between the earthly and supernatural dimensions.
After the birth of their son, Xu Xian was shocked to discover his wife’s true identity, so shocked, in fact, he died. Because of her great love for him, Bai Suzhen, journeyed far, braving danger to steal an herb that revived him.
Despite her sacrifice and love, he remained terrified and abandoned her. Later, a Buddhist monk, also fearful of her power, trapped her beneath the pagoda which collapsed.
In some versions, her son rescued her, her husband realized their undying love for one another, and the family reunited.
Hongzhou, Westlake, and the Leifeng Pagoda were the sites of that drama, David told us as we walked from the bus to the base of the pagoda.
The octagonal building, five stories above ground and two below, had a golden spire and bronze tiled roofs with eaves and corners that turned upward.
However, David said, it wasn’t the original pagoda which was built in 975 and, because of age and neglect, collapsed in 1924.
Zhu Bingren, a master of bronze sculpture, designed this one, workers constructed it on the same site, and it reopened in 2002.
David turned us loose to explore the building. The interior was as beautiful as the exterior.
Glass flooring and casing in the center of the ground level revealed the foundation and some of the walls of the original pagoda while intricate three-dimensional wood carvings depicted the legend of White Snake along the walls.
The pagoda was filled with people waiting to use the elevator, so I climbed the stairs, stopping at each floor which showcased different aspects of the pagoda and surrounding area.
A domed ceiling on the top floor featured a golden lotus flower in the center. Lotus flowers usually grow in mucky water and blossom on the surface of the lake, symbolizing purity, peace, and enlightenment.
Above it, a secret chamber contained a replica of the Heavenly Palace, home of the Supreme God. I paused, and despite the crowds, experienced an unexpected vertical moment of wonder, before I peered from the windows of the fifth floor at Hangzhou and Westlake and then descended the stairs to join our group.
Keeping all of us together and moving forward was like herding cats, but David mostly remained calm. However, he gave up trying to see all of the sites on our itinerary that evening, and after dinner, we returned to the hotel.
The rest of our tour included many other magical moments, but my favorite was the night cruise up the Huangpu River. We rode on the three-storied Dragon Boat where the chefs had prepared a sumptuous buffet.
After we ate, many of us stood on the deck and viewed the light show of new Shanghai. I’m a sucker for lights and colors, and as the skyscrapers changed from vibrant blue to green to violet to red, I was mesmerized.
The next day, we toured two more historic sites, the Yu Garden, an ancient garden created in 1559, and the Zhengyi Taoist temple complex.
Later, David dropped us off at a street market, thronged with customers and pedestrians. The following day, we packed up and headed for the airport and the long journey home.
I’ve been home now for over a month. I’m deeply grateful to be back with my hubby who always keeps me moving in the right direction, physically, emotionally, and spiritually.
Last night, one of my friends asked me to describe my most profound spiritual experience in China. Despite my fascination with pagodas, temples, ancient gardens, and the lights and colors of the night cruise, I told her my heart opened in ways I could have never predicted to the people, both our Sheng Zhen group and the Chinese, most of whom were kind and even surprisingly loving.
As Christmas nears, I remember Robert Holden’s definition of vertical moments. He says they are “anything that helps me to remember the deeper meaning and purpose of the holy season.”
Afterall, Christ came to earth for people, loving us no matter what our ethnic background, gender, material belongings, or physical condition. His love transforms us, transcending all boundaries.
He brought heaven to earth when he was born as a baby in a humble manger. That is the deeper meaning and purpose of the holy season.