The temple is something to behold, perched on a hilltop south-east of Oakland. A palm lined approach includes a pebbled stream with bridges crossing at intervals, lush grass and flowers grow everywhere and there's piped hymns and organ music across the whole complex. Most Mormon's aren't allowed inside their own temples so I thought it wise not to try to sneak in for a few bloggable pics, but a plush centre next door tells you everything you need to know.
We were given a tour around the sculpture exhibition of important scenes from Jesus' life, including depictions of Jesus walking on water, Jesus raising Lazarus and Jesus appearing to Joseph Smith. I could have answered all the tour guide's questions but thought I'd let the toddlers have their turn. That degree in theology is still working out well for me.
While the Mormon church has its fair share of weird ideas, as an Anglican I guess I'm not in a position to throw any stones. There are now more Mormon's outside of the USA than in, but it remains a quintessentially American religion tied into the history of the pioneering of the west and the freedom of religion enshrined in the constitution. Jesus is depicted everywhere as a square-jawed caucasian boy with a beard (but then check out any church window in the northern hemisphere, I suppose).
As they ask in California: if Jesus was Jewish, how come he has a Mexican name?
The Oakland Temple. Nice.
The main man!
Feeding time.
Baby-zilla attacks!
The Oakland and SF skylines.
Three monkeys in the back. From the left: Abi, Lyla, Evie.
