Some people have gotten lost while looking for the temple; just so there is no question, the path to the leftof the church is both the shortest route to Parkway, and is next to the temple. (I don't usually mind people coming by, but NO ONE does it by accident.)
On a completely different note: I received a joyous welcome to campus today, much as Bush anticipated for the troops entering Baghdad. A very nice way to begin the semester--much nicer than IEDs!
It has been remarked that, unlike most college campuses, parking is not usually a problem around here. However, there have been complaints from people living across from the seminary about people parking in "their" spots on the street. They haven't talked to me personally about it (as Matthew 18:15-17 directs people to do), so I'm not sure what specific issues there may be. However, this being a seminary, the initial question is not as hypothetical as they may have intended; Jesus didn't just tell us to play nice, after all.
So: where would Jesus park? Or rather, where wouldn't he park? He seems to have accepted all invitations, particularly the ones that should have been at best awkward. He would have parked in front of the prostitute's house. He would have probably parked in front of the house of the Islamic militants' house as well, as long as he was invited.
What troubles me about the asking of the question, "where would Jesus park," is the implication that we--the recipients of the email--should be more considerate of... whom? It's not clear who we would benefit, other than the people who live across the street. Jesus' response is clear with regard to people who aren't welcoming:
"But whenever you park on the street and they do not welcome you, pull away from the curb and say, 11‘Even the dust of your parking place that clings to our tires, we wipe off in protest against you. Yet know this: the kingdom of God has come near.’ 12I tell you, on that day it will be more tolerable for Sodom than for the people living across from the seminary." (Matt 10:10-12)
But then, people have commented that my translation of the Bible takes undue liberties with the Greek.
Sometimes I can tell that my dreams aren't real; for instance, if I'm talking to Gene. Particularly since I was telling him about a heated inkwell--with a miniature elephant that walked around the leather desktop the inkwell was sitting on--that my friend Steve had recently purchased.
Have I mentioned that I'm less productive when I'm working on a computer with an internet connection?
It occurs to me that the curl in the middle of Mai's forehead isn't usually visible, but there's no denying that she has very curly hair!
The book is going slowly right now: the words are tumbling around as if in a bingo-cage, waiting to drop out on the page one at a time. Sometimes they all come at once, and other times nothing comes out at all.