Much Ado about NOTHING

Jersey City is a very religious place, judging from the statuary one sees while walking around town. Jesus and Mary beckon from many a front yard, and the saints are well represented, especially Francis of Assisi. At Christmas time, there are creches everywhere -- most famously, or infamously, depending on your point of view, in front of City Hall. Suburban yards are full of stone elves, styrene flamingos and lantern-bearing jockeys. Here, "we're" more interested in asserting our faith and devotion.

Mostly, it's Christian iconography on display. So I was surprised while walking along Kennedy Boulevard one day (in a warmer month) to see a large concrete statue of a bare-breasted Aphrodite standing in front of an otherwise conventional house, surrounded by lilies and black-eyed susans. Her face, slightly marred by a rash of green lichens, was set in a Mona Lisa smile, as if she knew something I didn't – some pagan secret I was too dense to apprehend.

It set my imagination spinning. What sort of people would put such a thing in their yard -- in a city where well-covered Madonnas are the garden divinities of choice?

I hoped they weren't intending to mock their neighbors. Perhaps they were simply lovers of classical sculpture – though this stone Venus was no masterpiece. Toga-clad ancient Greeks or Romans seemed unlikely, if entertaining to imagine. Actual pagans were a possibility, of course. Jersey City is home to a score of different religions. Why not contemporary worshipers of the goddess of love?

Maybe, though, I thought, they were simply interested in adding a little iconic diversity to our neighborhood. That's an inspiration I could go with. I'm no more a Buddhist than I am anything else. But an elegantly carved Buddha head would look just fine in my front yard, smiling enigmatically.