The Christ of Vung Tau

A relief of the Last Supper is seen near the pedestal of the statue.

I was critical the first time I visited Vung Tau a few years ago. Why build a 32-meter statue of Christ on a hill more than 170 meters tall in a city 125 kilometers from Saigon?

Was Rio de Janeiro’s statue of Christ the Redeemer, 2 meters smaller but standing on a pedestal 3 meters higher, not enough? How could the makers know what Jesus looked like? Was the ferroconcrete statue meant to satisfy religious megalomaniacs? Wouldn’t it be better to use the money for the poor? 

I climbed about 1,000 steps to reach the statue, built in 1974, after a hearty breakfast at Palace Hotel. I was a tourist enthralled by vistas framed by heights from different angles, the full extent of which was not always possible to capture with my camera. 

The second time I saw the statue, in my recent trip to the petroleum city of around 170,000 inhabitants, I found it spiritually uplifting although this time I had only limited time. 

Arriving at 3 p.m., I had to leave at 5:15 p.m. So, I decided to go up to the top as quickly as possible to enjoy a bird’s eye view, take photos and return back to the hotel. That plan didn’t work, however. Along the way to the top, I stopped quite often to observe white statues of happy children and angles suggestive of purity as well as scenes from the Bible. 

A bird eye view of the seaside resort city of Vung Tau.

Old, sorrowful-looking Abraham was depicted walking with his naïve, unsuspecting son Isaac to the place where Abraham intended to sacrifice him — a powerful reminder of faith at work in God the Provider. 

Moses was seen smiling, holding in his hands the stone tablets of the Ten Commandments inscribed with, strangely, Roman numerals from 1 to 10 — in gross contradiction of the fact that the Torah, and by extension, the Bible, is a Jewish, not a Roman book, and that the God of Moses is the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob (Israel) before He was “embraced” by Romans, and by extension, Europeans, as their God and introduced to other nations.

The whiteness of these scenes contrasted to their earthy surroundings and made them appear otherworldly. For me, the most profound scenes were of Jesus Christ, first with an adulterous woman dragged by a crowd who wanted to stone her to death, then of Jesus talking to a Samaritan woman at Jacob’s well — exposing both her sexual thirst and her thirst for acceptance and finally of Jesus de-livering the Sermon on the Mount . 

Pieta statue with the Christ of Vung Tau statue is seen in the background.

Upon seeing the scene, Jesus’ words echoed in my ears: “Let those of you who are without sin cast the first stone.” Whoever drinks of this water will thirst again but whoever drinks of the water that I shall give will never thirst. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness for they shall be filled.” 

Near the pedestal of the statue, I found a relief of the Last Supper which prompted me to think about the last meals of some elderly people dear to me. Illness and death were ruthless, depriving them of any food on the last day of their life, sending them empty-stomached and in often great agony to the afterlife. 

Then I got inside the statue, climbing 133 narrow and winding stairs until I arrived at the top, at the openings on the left and right shoulders of the statue where I had a 360-degree view of the city below. Everything worldly and material below looked insignificant above. 

Finding myself like a Lilliputian on Christ’s shoulders enabled me to see God’s big picture and lofty perspective of the world. 

Suddenly I realized I could no longer see the Jesus statue as a whole because I was inside it. Only part of Jesus’ face and his outstretched arms were visible. 

A dry loudspeaker voice said the door to the statue would soon be closed. I scaled down the stairs feeling refreshed and recharged spiritually and physically. At some vantage points, there were panoramas reminiscent of Bali. 

After taking a bath and having dinner at the hotel, I felt as fit as a fiddle and went sightseeing. 

Vung Tau has a vibrant nightlife. Bars and massage parlors with provocatively titled signs such as Hot Lips beckon passers-by. Pretty, sexually inviting Vietnamese girls riding on motorcycles insistently approached me offering massage services. 

Suddenly, however, I was reminded of what Jesus said in the book of Matthew: “You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its flavor, how shall it be seasoned?” I went back straight to the hotel, checked emails, watched TV and slept.

— Photos by Arif Suryobuwono-jakartapost