The weatherman said it would be blustery today, and
true to his word – it was! Leaves blowing everywhere – downwards and sideways –
clouds moving across the sky at a pretty good clip, the sun peeking in and out.
The affirmation of the fortuitousness of this day began 300 feet from my front
door: as I was walking along, the way towards the Selly Oak business district
(the other direction would take me to Cannon Hill Park and the ‘mac,’ where I coincidentally
was headed later in the day), I came upon two random men – one I had seen
before (I’m still not sure if he is the homeowner or the worker-boy – I’ve seen
him on a number of occasions as he is performing landscape things in the front of
a residence.), the other new to me. This second man was a cutish, little
middle-eastern gent, 30s-40s – hard to say – with white teeth and an engaging
smile. As I walked past he wished me a good day, and ended this greeting with
the pronoun, ‘princess.’ Well, you can be sure, that caught my attention pretty
fast. As I smiled, nodded and kept right on walking, he added something like,
‘So beautiful. You are a beach girl.’ (To his credit, it is true that the long
curls of my hair were wafting in the breeze, and I’m sure my eyes sparkled, as
I anticipated the potential of the day I had in store.) Having said THAT I had
to come back and boast that indeed I had been a ‘California girl’ in my day,
and now that I was older, his flattering comments had made my day. Man, that’s getting
right up there with Tonya’s ‘baby mama!’ (The man I HAD recognized previously just
smiled silently and nodded in agreement. He is an interesting looking character,
similar to my age. Still don’t know his story – except that when I see him, he
is always by the same particular house and yard.)
To celebrate the day I was on my way to do two promisingly
interesting things. The first, since it was a Tuesday, to attend Professor
Philip’s class on ‘Christianity from Jewish Sect to Roman State Religion.’ And,
I must say, I’m really proud of myself because I got all the way to the correct
building, then up to the right classroom – all by myself, without asking for
any assistance whatsoever. That’s really amazing – for me! The discussion today
centered around the growth of the administrative structure of the early Christian
church.
In the setting of today’s class, as Jesus had gone
from the earth, the question became how would Jesus’ teachings evolve now that
the masthead was gone? What were the dealings of the apostles one with another?
Having recorded events as they transpired, how would what they wrote be interpreted?
Within the hundred years following Christ’s death, the study of the
interpretation of Jesus as an individual began – was he, in fact, THE promised
Messiah? What title/descriptions can/should be applied to him, and what does it
all mean? This line of investigation is known as Christology. In the 2nd
century, debate about the person and nature of Jesus began to gain ground – with
deliberation surrounding Jesus’ divinity at the forefront. Ignatius was one of
the earliest scholars who studied these questions in particular – we have copies
of his very writings still today.
Seems like to me that no sooner had Jesus come
along to clear up the adulterated gospel as revealed to the Fathers/prophets,
than the debate – and corruption – began to manifest itself all over again. I
just imagine Father in Heaven up there going, ‘you guys; come on!’ Anyway, the
diatribe continues on today: no different than in Joseph’s Smith’s day – no
closer to the truth today than when the first deliberations began all those
many long millennia ago following Jesus’ death and resurrection. What a pity:
without the light of the gospel, without the desire for and enlightenment of
the Holy Spirit, there will be no change, no chance for elucidation. A study I heard
recently concluded that only one half of Britains have a religious affiliation,
with only one quarter among young people. Is it any wonder considering the
religious confusion in the world? It seems like debates like this take the
divine right out of any religiosity a person might have. Oh, the precepts of men and the cunning of the father of all lies, how they rob the people and blind them to the simplicity of the true and ancient gospel.
With only a few minutes following today’s lecture
before Philip and I each had to go in our opposite directions, we had only a
few minutes to chat. He confirmed that he had taught in the department of theology
here at the University of Birmingham for ten years prior to the assignment he
is in now. As the student enrollment began to dwindle in the study of theology,
he was asked to join the department known as Archeology and Antiquities, and
teach courses there. Both of these disciplines are found in the college of Arts
and Law. There are many things I would like to share with him about the truthfulness
of Jesus Christ’s divinity, as I know it. The main challenge is that Philip
leaves around 8 each morning and is often in student consultations till after
10, and then only shows himself here at our place of residence from Monday
night till he leaves for classes Thursday morning, not to return again until
the following week.
The second of the things I had on tap for the day
was to attend my second movie showing at the ‘mac’ – Woody Allen’s To Rome with
Love. Whereas I have enjoyed Allen’s films in the past, one of the two of us,
or maybe both, have changed. I was disappointed to find the film quite
self-indulgent – like investors would bank-roll the production because it was
Woody Allen proposing it and likewise, by the same regard, movie-goers would
pay to see it for the sole reason that his name was on the marquee, regardless of
the content.
The plot was pretty haphazard, with little
development, and practically no depth, of character. (The Roman setting WAS
exquisite to look at – no argument there! And, as always, there was an
admirable array of interesting and unique male and female characters, though
somehow when they spoke their lines it was as if you could imagine Woody as he
wrote them, chortling to himself as he went.) It was as if he took every little
snippet he had harboured in his mind, his entire life, that had anything to do
with Italy, and somehow found a way to weave them all together into a plot(?).
As for the films sentiment, if it were up to me I would definitely be retitling
it to read, ‘To Rome with Lust.’ No love wasted here – not what I call love
demonstrated in even one of the relationships, in stark contrast to the endearing
one I encountered the following day. (See Day Hundred One)
Can’t say I recommend it, obviously; in fact,
please remind me, if ever I make a motion to the contrary, I never need to see
another Woody Allen film – ever again, in this lifetime . . .unless it’s to
indulge in one of the older classics.
Photos_
1- bustling students of a multi-cultured background
2- on campus
3- boulevard along Bristol Road towards Cannon Hill
Park and the ‘mac’
4- mosaic outside the center
5- To Rome with Love
6- Canada geese beeline
7- fountain with rainbow effect, if you look
closely
