Going to Seminary

When the publisher sent me the book From M.Div. to Rev. by Eubanks, I confess I was less than enthusiastic about it reviewing it. However, I quickly changed my attitude. Books of this genre often just state the obvious, but Eubanks does a good job of covering the many sides of a ministry transition. The book is not just for young adults starting out in ministry. It provides helpful tips and refresher material that will benefit a seasoned minister who is making a transition.

I appreciated the book challenging readers to see candidacy as a spiritual season bathed in prayer. You would expect that, but the book give detailed help in guiding candidates on how to spiritually prepare for the transition from seminary to first church.

I also appreciated his emphasis upon relationships. After all, ministry is about people. Eubanks stresses the importance of building your network, not as a means to get your own end, but to develop “a sense of community in which everyone serves one another toward the common benefit of all.” This carries on through the interview process. Rather than see this as job hunting, minister to members of the search team who have been given the charge to find God’s person for their church. In other words, begin your ministry even prior to your visit.

The book is filled with great suggestions about each stage of the journey. He also includes a recommended reading list, questions to prepare you for your interview, 10 questions you should ask a search committee, and other tools to prepare you for this journey.

I encourage you to purchase this book at least a year before your scheduled graduation and carefully work through it. If you are married, work through it with your spouse.

Receive 20% off by using the promotional code: GtSPromo.

• Purchase From M.Div. to Rev.
• Download free sample chapters of From M.Div. to Rev.

Weekly chapel is an exciting rite of passage in the first weeks of seminary.  I can still remember many sermons where a pastor would talk about his own chapel experiences way back in the day.  This past year it was my turn.  My wife even came to the first couple of chapel services too.  I have to admit: the novelty wore off by the third or fourth chapel.

The first time I didn’t go to chapel I thought I had a pretty good excuse.  I missed my quiet time with the Lord that morning at home.  I was tired from not sleeping well the night before and my brain was already full from two hours of mind-boggling new information in hermeneutics class.

I was surprised to learn that I was not alone.  I walked around the campus feeling like I’d stumbled into a secret club.  Here and there, students were dotted around the campus.  I thought I’d missed the rapture—and I’m an amillenielist! Other guys and gals were talking on their cell phones, typing away on their laptops, or just clustered around a table in the corner of the student center talking sports…or Greek (and then back to sports).  When I asked one guy about why he didn’t go to chapel he shrugged his shoulders, “It’s an hour to get stuff done.”  By the next week, when I had an assignment due that afternoon, I found out he was right.

OK, forget me, forget the other student.  Forget even yourself.  What about Jesus?  He is our example for all things, but what about for attending chapel?

Think about the Lord’s experience growing up in Palestine.  In coming to fulfill the Law and being Himself a model Jew, Jesus would have certainly attended synagogue every Sabbath and journey to Jerusalem at set times.  Judging from what He had to argue against during His public ministry, I can’t imagine what He sat through before then.

Imagine Him sitting quietly, listening to Pharisees placing legalistic burdens on their hearers.  How He must’ve wanted to shake His head at the misguided Sadducees denying the resurrection.  How many eloquent-but-meaningless musings from the scribes, did He endure?  Sure, there had to be times where He thought joyfully to Himself, “This one is not far from the kingdom!”  But those moments were rare, unlike the religious hypocrisy of many teachers on display in the public places during the week.  How many trips did He make to Jerusalem, where He would see and hear all of these things on a grand scale?  It’s enough to make one never go again…

…but not Jesus.

Scripture gives no indication that He ever questioned/debated/argued with the religious leaders of His day before His public ministry began.  To do so before His appointed time would have been disrespectful.  It would have been dishonoring to His Father.  No, Jesus came “to fulfill all righteousness” (Matt. 3:15).  He did “all things well” (Mark 7:37).  In fact, for these same reasons, not only did He attend services, He would have paid careful attention too.  (As hard as this is for me to write–knowing my own shortcoming in this area—if He was a student today He also would not be surfing the internet during class lectures.)

Jesus, then, would go to chapel.

As I thought all of this through, when I came to the conclusion that Jesus would go to chapel (and pay attention in lectures) I was convicted.  I started going to chapel again.  Honestly, it is not always edifying.  Sometimes I don’t know the songs, sometimes the sermon is academic, maybe, but not inspired.  Other times I am simply pre-occupied with thoughts about what I just learned that morning, upcoming papers, or how I am going to pay for next semester.  But I go because I want to be obedient to the Lord.  He brought me here to seminary in the first place.  He also was obedient and faithful in far more than just going to mid-week chapel.  Do I not owe Him at least that?

What about you?  Will the Lord see you in chapel this week?

It has been four months since we began this journey to and through seminary together. Thank you to those who have read, commented, encouraged and helped me along the way. There is one resounding question in my mind that continually drives me to my knees, keeps my wife understanding and gives me hope in my studies. Why? Why am I here? Why did we move to Dallas? Why did we leave behind career paths, friends, family, opportunities and comfort that God had blessed us with? The answer is Jesus. And there is no greater question or answer to reflect upon this week.

I am writing this prior to finals in hopes to have it submitted early, but it should appear six days before the day we have designated to celebrate the birth of our Messiah. Jesus did not have a Christmas tree, gifts, red wrapping paper, a stocking over the fireplace or snow on the ground when he was born. All these things have been used by our culture to symbolize this time of year. As long as we continue to see this holiday as a celebration of the birth of Jesus Christ, His coming to humanity in its state of sin to bring us freedom, to bring us salvation, to bring us to Himself, then I think any item that drives us to remember what Jesus has done, can be good, whether it is red wrapping paper, a Christmas tree or lights displayed on trees, homes and stores.
I hope that as you study theology, Greek, Bible study methods, and read through those big books the seminary required you to buy, you will remember that it truly does all come back to a child, laid in a manager, 2,000 years ago. I love the Old Testament because it points me to Jesus. I love the New Testament, because it points me to Jesus. In all of our intellectual pursuits, whether seminary, a Bible study, a meeting with a mentor or a personal pursuit of holiness, we must remember to “fix our eyes upon Jesus, the Author and perfector of our faith” – Hebrews 12:1-2.

I hope this semester has been a blessing for you as much as it has been for me. Whether you are making copies and pizza, realizing the Honeymoon is over, finding out that God’s ways are not the same as yours, or just surfing the web for new blogs, I hope you remember Jesus. I hope you ask yourself, “Why?” Why are you doing what you are doing? Why are you where you are? Why are you doing the things you are doing and making the choices you are making? Are you pursuing Jesus in those choices, or a Master’s Degree to hang on the wall?
The temptation is always there for me to think of that degree. The temptation is there to think of a DTS class ring, walking across that stage at graduation, and having another, “I accomplished something” moment. As I have read through John 15, Colossians 3 and Ephesians 1 recently, I have come to realize that I truly can do and have “nothing” apart from Christ.

At least for now I have a built in way to keep my eyes fixed on Jesus and be reminded of what He has done for me daily. As long as there is snow on the ground, stockings over the fireplace, red wrapping paper and a tree in the corner of a home, we are reminded and made consciously aware that Jesus came, gave His life and rose from the dead 2,000 years ago to set us free today. Merry Christmas. I hope the subtle differences you see throughout your day this time of year remind you of the first Christmas and drives you to long for the only one that will top it – our first Christmas in eternity when we spend it with Jesus in Heaven.

In Cross-Shattered Christ, Stanley Hauerwas wrote in his introduction that, “Mystery does not name a puzzle that cannot be solved. Rather, ‘mystery names that which we know, but the more we know, the more we are forced to rethink everything we think we know.” (pp. 15). Prior to the statement, he has pointed out that within Christian theology, there is paradoxical tension. While what Christians believe “does defy reason and common sense,” what Christians also believe “is the most reasonable and commonsense.” (pp. 14).

Seminarians generally often sense that tension, especially when wrestling with theological issues that mystify us. Who doesn’t wrestle with how Christ should be manifested in both the church and the world? Who doesn’t rethink or reframe a theological issue, creating a new texture? Once we have an answer, it only opens more doors to unanswered questions. What was perplexing now makes sense, relieving us. When the opposition occurs, a sigh of frustration follows. And it’s exhausting. And sometimes, the whole wrestling business exasperates us, only to reveal the smallness of our minds.

We realize more and more how small our minds are when we are changing, or to put it properly, maturing. The work of theology, Hauerwas noted, is never finished, meaning more wrestling is to be done in this life (pp. 17). We are not immune to change, not only because we live in a continual changing reality, but also because Christ is not finished with redeeming creation, including us. The change embedded in us indicates that we reckon ourselves to think and become as Christ.

The answer to the mystery, that baffled both Jews and Gentiles, is revealed in the cross of Christ (Eph. 3:9). The terms such as “cross-centered,” “Christ-centered,” and “cruciformity” have been the buzzwords in the past years, reminding us of the preeminence of Christ. Our theology hinges upon the works of the God-man who appeared thousands of years ago. The redemption plan of God, once hidden, was now being proclaimed not through lofty wisdom or speech, but plain narration of Christ crucified (1 Cor. 2:1-2). Any theological issues, whether in church or seminary, are more clarified when our minds and hearts are set upon Christ’s redemptive role. When facing schism, injustice, favoritism, and disorderly worship in the Corinthian church, not only did Paul direct them to seek Christ, but also that they would to seek Him together. It is not a one-man show, but a one-church show. We are not meant to wrestle alone, but together. Paul wrote that we have the power by the Spirit to comprehend the “breath and length, and height, and depth” of Christ’s love only with all the saints (Eph. 3:17-19).

In Hauerwas’ recent memoir Hannah’s Child, he comments that he is not even sure what he believes about particular doctrinal issues, which renders him ecclesiologically homeless in a sense, but he is interested in what the church believes. His theological influences include those who are Methodists, Episcopalians, Mennonites, and Catholics. Many of these influences were also his companions, praying and spending time together. This was how Hauerwas learned about how Christ has taken care of him during his wrestling bouts—through brothers and sisters.

With Christmas approaching soon, we seminarians celebrate the incarnation with our brothers and sisters, whether they are parents, elders, teenagers, or immigrants. They too wrestle to learn and grow to love the story of incarnation; so let us wrestle together to grasp the beauty of Christ cooing in a manger.

In my mind, the primary reason we attend seminary is so that we can learn how to handle God’s Word appropriately. Of course there are many other benefits to seminary that go beyond that, but I believe that this is what makes seminary unique. There are lots of places to learn some of the more “practical” things, but ultimately it gets down to God’s Word.

To do that most seminaries will force you to learn the original languages. There are many good reasons to do this. Luther wrote “let us zealously hold on to the languages” in one great article. Erasmus described reading from the Latin Vulgate as “drinking from a muddy puddle” while reading the New Testament in Greek was like drinking from a “pure fountain.” Of course, most of us give mental assent to the truths of this, but the fact is that we have some very good English translations and if we use them properly we can get to the same place, right?

After all, Greek and Hebrew are a lot of work. It takes a lot of time to study paradigms. It is exhausting to translate even a familiar passage of Scripture as we go through our grammars and lexicons for reference. Despite the best efforts of Bill Mounce, there really is no fun way to learn vocabulary. All these things just take mental elbow grease.

What I’ve noticed is that most students get through the languages and then pretty much discard them. They gave lip-service to the value in learning them, but clearly they did not see the point. If they had they would have stuck with them.

My exhortation to you is to keep up with your languages. Like with physical fitness it is much easier to maintain than to get it back once you’ve lost it. There are very good reader’s editions of Greek and Hebrew that will get you past the drudgery of obscure vocabulary and keep you in the text. Commit to spending a little bit of time each day. Even 5-10 minutes will do if that is all you have.
I have a few personal motivations to do this. One is that I worked very hard in Greek and Hebrew classes and I don’t want to just throw all that time away. I have talked to countless men in ministry who remembered taking Greek and Hebrew, but cannot use any of it today. I don’t want to be one of those guys.

Another is that I see the value in it. I would not go so far as to say that it is vital to keep up with the languages, but it is definitely very valuable. As a practical matter, diagramming a passage from Paul often gives you the points of your sermon right from the text. Remembering how the languages work will sometimes help you make decisions about the meaning of difficult passages too. Some things just don’t translate perfectly into English.

But for me, perhaps one of the most compelling reasons is to recognize just how blessed I am. There are pastors around the world who don’t even have a Bible, let alone a seminary education. They would love to have just a complete Bible in their native language, let alone one of the many excellent study Bibles that are available to me today. We have a plethora of resources at our fingertips. Our seminary educations give us outstanding preparation for ministry. Throwing such a key part of that education away is akin to the millionaire who lights his cigars with $100 bills. Why waste something so valuable?

Can you name a team sport that starts with “s”?  (Think about it…I’ll wait.)

How about ‘seminary’?  Oh, you don’t think so?  Well, you’ll have another chance later.  Hopefully by then I will have changed your thinking.

Being married and attending seminary takes ‘team sport’ to a whole new level. While you are hard at study your God-given mate is equally busy.  He or she is taking care of the laundry, doing the grocery shopping, making coffee, paying the bills, making coffee, listening to your fears, schooling the kids and, once again, making you more coffee…  What was a smooth ride is now the Tour de France on a tandem bicycle.

You might be thinking, “Well, I’m not married; seminary is definitely not a team sport for me.” Ahhh, think again, mi amigo soltero.  Think how much has happened since you first considered seminary.  You floated the idea past key people in your life to get their impressions.  You were encouraged as loved ones said they were praying for you.  When the acceptance letter arrived in the mail your family and friends celebrated with you.  (Probably very few of them helped you move, but, hey, that’s OK; you still love them.)  Now that you are solidly into your studies these same people love to hear how you’re doing and what you’re learning.  It may be you doing the all the reading, but they are your teammates ‘til you reach the finish line.

Hebrews 11 stirs our spirits when we read the inspiring stories of courageous and faithful saints who have gone before us, but don’t forget about Hebrews 12.  The artificial chapter break tends to diminish the power of 12:1 where the writer summarily exhorts us to press on, “since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses…”  The author of Hebrews peels back the clouds to show our mortal eyes the vast throng of immortal saints surrounding us.  This verse is almost deafening with its cheers from the heavenly sidelines to “run the race with endurance.” Sound a little bit familiar?

I know you’re swamped right now.  I know that the last thing you want is one more assignment.  Can I give you a fun one though?  Over the next few days take time on your way to class to make a list of everyone on your team, those people who have cheered you on in some way this semester.  A few faces came to mind already, didn’t they?  Keep thinking…try not to forget a single one.  You might even want to write their names down.

Once you’ve remembered everybody on your team, do two things:  First, pray for them.  Give the Lord thanks for putting them in your life and pray specifically for each person.  You be on their team through prayer.  Second, write each one a thank-you note.  You don’t have to write and mail a thank-you card to each person (although that would be a nice thing to do if you have the time), but make some effort to reach out.  You can send each person on your list an email, or post on their Facebook wall, or however you think they would be most touched.  A simple note from you saying, “I thought of you today and prayed for you; thank you so much for all your encouragement while I’ve been in seminary” will bless them far more than you can imagine.

So, back to the original question…

Grabbing nibbles all morning of the food being prepared for our Thanksgiving lunch is one of my favorite parts of the day. I wink and sneak them to my children as they pass by. They get the message, “Don’t let Mom see you with the contraband, but enjoy it.” I’m thankful that I can provide for my family like this. I’m thankful we are not forced to live like the majority of the world lives. I’m thankful I don’t have to wonder whether I can feed my kids next week, or tomorrow, or tonight.

It is difficult for me to truly be thankful when I give because I have always had so much abundance. I have always had plenty and never needed more. Yes, we’ve wanted more, but never needed it. Witnessing how most of the people on this planet live opens up our eyes to what needing more really is.

Its a hard line to find, using money to educate yourself about how the rest of the world lives or using that same money to make a difference in how they live. Maybe its a cart and horse issue.

Last year we sent our eleven year old son to Ecuador on a medical mission trip. It changed forever how he sees the world. We could have used that $2,000 to feed a lot of people right here at home. Instead we felt investing it in his life would reap a longer return in how his life would change the world. He wanted to go to Ecuador again this coming year. My wife and I decided that he could go as long as he found ways to pay his way. He had learned 80% of what we wanted him to learn on the first trip. Going a second time would be great, but might not be the best choice. He agreed. Not only was creating the ways to generate the $2,000 going to be hard, but investing the time of generating those funds and go on the trip wasn’t going to be easy for a 13 year old either.

Hurt can come in the form of time, money, or emotion. Giving thanks when you have personally experienced the hurt, witnessed the hurt of others, or know the hurt is yet to come can be a much more thankful giving. My wife is leading her nurses to Ecuador again in 2011 and this time it is my turn to experience the thankfulness of those who are hurting.

Flying to the other side of the world, or driving to the other side of town, it is getting uncomfortable with how I live and how others live that changes me. We don’t have to go to Ecuador to experience the things that change us.

I took a challenge a few years ago and it has affected not just me, but my children because of how I pass on my view of the world to them. I’m passing this same challenge on to you. Want to be more thankful? Want to view the world differently? In the words of Roy H. Williams:

It’s 5:00AM and I’m sitting at the bar of an all-night café on the wrong side of town eating a three-dollar breakfast, listening to the smelly, funny stories of downtrodden people who know each other well. Their sparkling banter gives me a glimpse into problems I’ll never touch, victories I’ll never celebrate, a life I’ll never have. These are they who will never have internet access, a credit card or cable TV.

But they seem happy.

I’ve come here to learn what it means to be an outsider in America.

People tell me they want to write. I respond, “You can’t find a pencil?” In truth, few want to write. Most want only to have written. People tell me they want to travel, have adventures, meet interesting people and learn about different cultures. They want to expand their world. I’m betting you can guess my answer to that one… “If you will expand your world, you must crawl on your hands and knees, get on your belly and squirm under the fence that surrounds your insulated life.”

For most people, travel means being pampered by accommodating servants in exotic places. But interesting people, strange cultures and high adventure don’t await you on the other side of the world. They await you on the other side of town. Are you willing to get on your belly and crawl under that fence? Will you invest an hour to enlarge your world? If you will actually do it, not just think about it, but really do it, and write to me about it, I will send you a special gift of initiation. These are the rules:

1. You must arrive and be seated in a 24-hour eating establishment between 1:30AM and 5:30AM in a part of town where you rarely go. Or perhaps a truckstop beyond town’s edge. The further outside your comfort zone, the better.

2. If a man, you must go alone. If a woman and concerned for your safety, you can take one other person with you. But make sure your friend understands the goal isn’t to chat with each other, but to glimpse a whole other world that exists side-by-side with the one you know.

3. While you’re eating and listening and absorbing this strange new reality, think of what these people need most and how you might help them get it. While you’re at it, you might also think a little about what they have that you don’t. There is a rich sense of community among the outcast.

Don’t tell yourself you can’t do this, or that you are already there. Reading this post disqualifies you as being a part of the demographic we’re speaking of.

For those of you willing to sacrifice a little sleep, and be grateful for it the next night, I’d love to hear your stories. Post them in the comments. God can use the experience to change us and bring more gratefulness.

Have you ever taken a trip? Did it go just like you had planned?

Chances are, if you’ve traveled much at all, at some point you’ve found yourself dealing with unexpected delays, detail changes or maybe even a complete cancellation of your plans.

For those of us in ministry we often joke about schedules and plans and how they never work out as you expect. I believe in schedules, I believe in plans. Last night my wife and I were discussing this topic, and I am convinced that we must plan and prepare more than I thought was necessary as a younger man in ministry.

I recognize that our plans are not something to be set in stone with no opportunity for deviation, but rather a guided structure that bring us back on track when the unexpected occurs.

Very rarely do we plan a trip and have everything go exactly as we expected. The challenge with planning a trip with others or doing ministry and life with others is that “others” are involved. Pre-conceived plans, notions, ideas, rabbit trails and thoughts are quickly thrown to the side once someone presents a perspective or plan that you and I never thought of. I think it is a blessing to be able to stop where you are, acknowledge and accept a better plan and proceed down that path.

God gives us the responsibilities to pray, plan and proceed. Then He accomplishes His purposes through us, even when we think nothing is going “as planned.” I am pretty sure Joseph did not plan on spending time in Egypt as a slave prior to becoming second- in-command over Egypt. I am pretty sure Moses did not wake up one day and plan to kill an Egyptian, live in the desert for 40 years, hear God speak to him and then lead an entire nation to freedom in Yahweh’s name. It can be a very good when things do not go according to our plans.

Seminary is not an “according to my plans” time. I’ve spoken with several other students and we all have experienced this dry, the-sap-of-life-is-being-sucked-out-of-me feeling around the second or third month of the semester.

I think we have figured out what it is. For some reason, although I and others have spent years trying to spend daily time, communing with God, asking for guidance and digging into His Word in the desire to have our lives, thoughts and actions shaped by it, we came to seminary and seemed to forget what is important in our personal lives, relationships and specifically, in our relationship with God. Around October I began to wonder why I was so stressed, where my peace had gone, and why I didn’t feel connected to God.

I guess prayer, accountability and personal reflection have something to do with that. I and many classmates traded those things for more study time, more reading and Greek vocab cards.

I hope you are reading this thinking, “this guy is an idiot.” Good! Don’t do what I did. Maybe you are reading this and it is hitting home with you, like it has with so many students I have spoken to over the last month. That is OK, too.

Many other students I spoke with said they, like me, came here and for the first time in years were just students – not the guy leading a Bible study, youth group or ministry. Between not setting aside a quiet time for reflection and not being as active the Church body as we had been for years, we began to feel like the most pious, spiritually numb people in the world.

Seminary is tough. Life is tough. If your seminary experience is pushing you away from God, something needs to change. And here’s a hint – it’s not God; it is always us.

I do not know exactly what this looks like, but I can tell you that we are not alone. Most of the students I have asked either have struggled with this, are struggling with it, or even face it every semester. This is my first semester. I would love to get the answer right the first time, but that rarely happens for me.

I met a student last Sunday who gave me a word that summarized all this, reflection. He told me his struggle had been to reflect upon what he was learning each semester. Once he recognized it and reflected upon how this new understanding should change the way he lived, he was able to apply the lessons to his life and grow in his personal relationship with God. He graduates in May. I am sure he has a better answer than I do. Please leave comments, suggestions, advice, verses and prayer requests.

Welcome to the Journey. It’s ok if you forgot something, do not finish in the time you planned, are led into youth ministry when you wanted to be a lead pastor or go on to be successful in business. The important thing is that when you leave you learn to love God and serve others more than when you came.

Life is full of surprises. A tired, cliché phrase, I know. But the phrase speaks the truth. With friends and family, we share stories that surprised us. We remember them vividly because the stories are pivotal in shaping our lives.

Seminary life, on the other hand, can become mechanical because of its lack of spontaneity. Conjugating a verb is a norm. Formatting a paper properly is a pain. Approaching a new syllabus with the attitude of “I came, I saw, I conquered” crumbles weeks later as we whimper at its overwhelming demand. On the paper are dates of reading assignments and paper deadlines. For the next couple of months, these dates govern our lives, and sometimes, we feel that the syllabus rules with an iron fist. Mercy is not its priority.

Meanwhile, it has another effect—life appears less surprising. Ever since I started seminary, life is defined by how much I can cross off the dates on the syllabus. Done that reading and now I’m ready for the next, I thought. Like Harold Crick, played by Will Ferrell, in the film “Stranger than Fiction,” my current life is based on the timing marked on the paper, except his was a wristwatch. What eventually colors his gray, mundane life is the moment he realizes how life has more to offer than just following the tick-tock.

Whenever I talk to seminary graduates or read about their experiences, they recount stories that take unexpected turns, whether getting financial aids in a time of need, creating friendships with people you wouldn’t expect, or reading a work you come to love when you wondered why a tree must die to become that book. They remember those surprising events that colored their seminary life.

One of the benefits a seminarian has is getting student discount to theology conferences. To enrich my seminary education, I attended the 2010 Wheaton Theology Conference, whereas the academic topic revolved around the works of its main speaker—N.T. Wright, a New Testament scholar and former Bishop of Durham in the Church of England. For two days, Wright gave several messages in a room of 1,100 people, a rather large crowd.

During a break, I chatted with a friend, who is deaf like me, and a Sign Language Interpreter, who was interpreting for the conference. While the audience was stretching their legs and meeting each other, a man approached us. He greeted and asked us if he was speaking too fast for an interpreter to catch his words. At first we were puzzled by his question when only a moment later we realized he was Wright himself. After we informed Wright that the interpreter was doing an excellent job, he smiled, expressed good wishes, and departed to the speaking platform to begin another message.

Dumbstruck we were.

I came to the conference to learn something about his works; however, I left the conference learning something about the man himself. Whenever I read his books now, I could not help but remember that simple event between the four people among 1, 100 people. That meeting became a story that has colored a fraction of my seminary life.

Another cliché phrase I hear is “stop and smell the roses.” Like the previous phrase, this is also true. Harold Crick stopped and smelled the roses. For him, the roses were having a girlfriend and learning to play a guitar. For seminarians, the roses come in various forms—playing with kids, visiting a nursing home, gardening, or even more odd, visiting graves of dead theologians. Seminary doesn’t have to be just crossing off dates on the syllabus; it offers more than that.

Use the syllabus to discipline yourself, but not to define your life.

In Mark 12:30 Jesus said the greatest commandment was an echo of the shema of Deuteronomy 6. This is the first and greatest commandment that we are to follow. This implies that those of us in seminary with an eye toward leadership want to help people do that. But are we being prepared to do that ourselves?

Much digital ink is spilled on this topic in circles of seminary students trying to glorify God with their studies. I want to share my own story about this in hopes that it might be a blessing to others.

I came to seminary thinking that I had all my theological ducks in a row. I was ready to slap the heretic label on just about anyone who didn’t agree with me on most points. I had a little wiggle-room, but it was vitally important that folks agreed with me regarding counseling and soteriology, for example. To do less was to dishonor God and His Word, at least in my way of thinking.

Shortly after coming to seminary a couple of the younger pastors at my church introduced me to the Emergent Church movement. Of course, I initially wrote all of them off as heretics as any good conservative believer would (or so my thinking went). But it was also around that same time that I took my class on 1 Corinthians and learned about how many different viewpoints there are on the immoral brother and head coverings, even from conservative scholars. When you add in more liberal scholarship it starts to make the head spin.

Suddenly my dogma was not as sure as it once was. This led me into a very intellectual pursuit of God for a long time. I really wanted to study more devotionally, but I barely had enough time as it was. I really didn’t have time for deep meditation on what I was taught. I suddenly started looking at everything through an academic lens. I did not come from a dispensational background, but my school certainly does. My morning reading became a quest to see if they were right or not. I would sit in church and grade my pastor’s theology or mentally correct the lyrics to the songs we sang. Academia sucked the life out of my devotion to the Lord because everything stopped at my head and never made it to my heart.

While I have not gone back to my life of habitual sexual sin or gluttony, I have seen traces of the old unfeeling me that I really don’t like. When I started seminary I was much warmer with my wife and my children. I was ready to talk to people about the Lord every chance I had. I see how I’ve been on the return path to being cold and clinical. My study of theology started running everything through my head and it never made it to my heart. Rather than deepening my love for the Lord I started to hold Him at arm’s length.

This, of course, is backwards. The more I learn about the Lord the more I should love Him. I only have one year left at seminary, Lord willing, and I want to make this one count. It’s vital to think through all the heady topics we encounter at seminary, but ultimately I want to be like Paul who said to the Corinthians that he “decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ and him crucified.” Or, as Karl Barth supposedly said when asked what he learned after all his study of Romans, “Jesus loves me, this I know. For the Bible tells me so.”

Brothers and sisters, that’s what it is all about. Jesus loves you. Remember that always as you go through seminary. All of this is about Jesus and knowing Him better. Let your learning lead to love.