This was a topic for post of the day a few days ago. Hands down, it was my New Testament Professor. I went to a small Nazarene College in the midwest where it was required to take one semester of Old Testament, and one semester of New Testament. Old Testament was a test, alright.
For a girl who was (and probably still is to some degree) nominally Catholic, I couldn’t compete with the many kids whose fathers were preachers and practically had the whole bible memorized. And I do not exaggerate when I say that. The professor would quote some passage out of the bible, and I would be amazed that they pretty much knew what page it was on. Seriously. They would turn to it in less than five seconds. It was astounding–especially for someone whose only knowledge about the bible was that there was in fact, an Old Testament (OT), and a New Testament (NT). Forget about knowing any of the books, or in what order they fell, or which ones were in fact in OT, or NT.
The kids were kind of funny when it came to me in this class. They would say things like, “Professor! She shouldn’t have to learn all the begats. After all, she’s Catholic.” I can honestly say, toughest class I ever took–OT was.
Moving on to NT and the professor. He was about 150 years old. Not really, but he was very old. He was in WWII, and what made him so fascinating was the WWII stories he told, one of which has stayed with me all these years. Seems he fell in love with a pretty German girl.
The day after an end to the war was announced, she took him to her home to have dinner. He said he sat down at the table with her mother and father. Then her brother came in. A huge guy, (which is quite a comment coming from this professor as he was VERY tall–probably 6’3 or so) wearing an SS uniform and a scowl. He said he was so in love with her, that he didn’t fully appreciate the danger of the situation until years later.
Which only goes to prove, Love is blind.