Going to Seminary

Over the course of the seventeen years that I have been in school, I have never taken any summer classes. Well, my streak is over. Not only am I taking classes right now, I’m taking 9 hours worth. That’s a hefty load to carry during the summer.

I started my seminary career with the goal of finishing my M. Div. in three years. In order to do that, I have to take no less than 15 hours a semester (not including summers).

My first semester (Fall ’08) I only took 9 hours, which was done in order to help me transition back into the classroom. I took 15 hours in the spring, which then put me in a spot to have to take two classes (6 hours) in order to get back on track.

Just after my two classes began at the end of May, I happened to notice another class being offered during the same session that sounded very interesting. It was an upper level theology class entitled Theology of Intentional Christian Communities. I also noticed the class didn’t start until the 8th of June and that it was only to span just four weeks. That meant meeting two days a week for five hours each day.

I immediately wrote our Admissions Director requesting to get into this class (the class hadn’t started yet). She quickly responded and told me that I was registered and good to go. I bought the books for the class and prepared to start the following week.

Now, having completed the class, I must say that I am exceedingly glad that I was able to add this into my schedule. Not only did I greatly appreciate the class and learned a lot, but I am now ahead of schedule and can look forward to having a future semester with only 12 hours.

We started off in the class reading through St. Benedict’s Rule. We then read Ivan Kauffman’s Follow Me: A History of Christian Intentionality (2009); Rutba House ed. School(s) for Conversion: 12 Marks of a New Monasticism (2005); Jon Stock, Tim Otto, Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove, Inhabiting the Church: Biblical Wisdom for a New Monasticism (2007); and Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove’s New Monasticism: What It Has to Say to Today’s Church (2008).

For those of you not familiar with these books and/or authors, they are the leading voices of a movement being called “new monasticism.” If one were interested in knowing more about this movement, the book above, School(s) for Conversion: 12 Marks of a New Monasticism, would be a good place to start. (You could also click here to check out their website.)

The reason I took this class lies in my personal experience and desire to want to live out my faith within the context of an intentional community. By this I mean a community of people who are truly committed to one another and God, seeking daily God’s kingdom and his righteousness.

As we read through the Scriptures we are reminded that these words of God were given to a people, not a person. As one digs deeper and starts to consider the implications of certain imperatives, we find that the majority of them are designed to be lived out in the context of a community. Thus, they are hard, if not impossible, to obey in the life of an individual.

Having taken this class and gleaning from the sources we studied, I know for certain that there is a lot of good that is to be said about living out the gospel of God in a real community of believers. I’m thankful that I was able to be a part of this particular class and look forward to seeing and hearing more about what develops within and around this modern day movement called “new monasticism.”

I have a way of getting through something tough and then wishing I could go back and do it again.  It’s not that I enjoy torturing myself.  Rather, it’s that I usually learn a lot under such stress.  Because I knew more coming out of the experience than I did going in, there are some things I would do differently.

There is one lesson in particular I wanted to offer that might benefit others who are considering seminary.  When I walk into the classroom this fall, I will have a drastically different mission than I did last year.  This new mission hasn’t displaced my earlier reasons for going, but it has put them in perspective.  I’m still considering pursuing doctoral-level work after my M. Div.; and my ultimate goal is still to begin a church planting ministry in my old stomping grounds of Upstate New York.

So what’s the lesson?  What’s my new mission at seminary?  I’m going to learn about Jesus.  And I am going to learn about Jesus so that I can worship Him.

Now you’re disappointed, aren’t you?  You thought I was going to say something really important and earth shattering, didn’t you?  Here’s the thing: this is important.  I know that, by itself, it isn’t really memorable.  But it’s still important.  Yet it’s easily forgotten.  Probably because it seems so obvious.  But most of the important things I have learned recently have been things that seemed so obvious that I didn’t even think about the fact that maybe I wasn’t actually there.

If you’re like me, you run the risk of seminary being merely about preparing for ministry.  That’s important.  Or maybe you’re the type that is more tempted to think of seminary as a time to think big thoughts.  That’s important too.  But who are you preparing to serve in ministry?  And who are you hoping to think big thoughts about.  As it turns out, Jesus doesn’t want (much less need) merely our service.  And our big thoughts?  Try to imagine the big thought’s of the Divine Son as the world was created through Him.

In the introduction to this famous book, Desiring God, John Piper tweaks of the first answer to the Westminster Shorter Catechism so that it reads, “Man’s chief end is to glorify God by enjoying Him forever.”  That’s why I was created.  And that’s why I want to be in seminary right now.  It’s also what I have been missing out on this past year.  I’ve been preparing for ministry.  I’ve been only preparing for ministry.

Tim Keller helpfully points out (though, now that I think of it, I’m sure I’ve heard it from others as well) that ministry can be a kind of moralism.  It’s possible as a pastor to think that your acceptance before God is based on the fruit borne out by your ministry.  In fact, the danger is that, even in knowing this, it’s still an easy trap to fall into.  What if seminary is the same way?  What if, rather than going to seminary to learn about God (so you can worship Him more passionately), you’re going to make yourself acceptable to God?

It’s because that danger is so subtle that I’m going to risk stating the obvious.  And I’ll even say it again.  I am going to seminary to learn about Jesus so I can worship Him.  The other stuff too (preparing for ministry and all that).  But mainly just this.  And, by the way, I’m pretty sure that in the end I might just be a better pastor for it.  So, win-win.

I think it’s time for me to start the site NotGoingToSeminary.com.

It’s almost been five whole months since my last article was posted on this site. Much has happened. As I recently revealed in a recent post on my personal site, I’m not going back to Westminster Theological Seminary next year.

I’m a young man. At the time of this writing I am a week or so past my 23rd half-birthday. I have spent every year of my life in school since I was 4. I’ve never had a job with a consistent income. I’ve never made more than $13,000 in a given year. I’m a very, very young man.

I still remember the phone call with my mom almost six months ago where I was asking them to pay my rent again for the umpteenth time (it’s a real word, I promise). She finally said, “Paul, your father and I were going to wait until you were hear to talk to you, but we just can’t do this anymore. We can’t be paying for all this stuff for your brother and you and survive. We need you to work more and take on some of these responsibilities.”

I though she was joking. I thought she was just frustrated then and it would pass and I would just stay in school as I’d always done – as I’d always planned. But she wasn’t. A couple of weeks later I had to face the fact that my plans I’d had since seventh grade had been turned completely upside down. Then the job search began. Long story short, I’ve got a real job now, I’m only going to take one class next semester (a counseling class), and probably won’t ever finish seminary. And I’m really okay with that. I never thought I would be. How did this change happen?

As I was thinking about this this morning, I remembered something one of my old pastors once said concerning the seemingly-never-ending relationship saga of the single twenty-something: “you know, the identity of “the One” is something best discerned through clarity and hindsight rather than ambiguity and attempted foresight.” In other words, it’s better to live your life faithfully, trusting that the person you marry is and has always been “the One”, rather than trying to figure out who that is and then marrying them. The will of God is an ever unfolding present reality unfolding in real-time far more than it is some ethereal “path” we must figure out and make sure we are walking. You may find yourself in seminary one year, and not the next. That is just reality. Prepare your heart to be willing to let go of anything.

So, how do we wade through the murky waters of discerning the call to stay or go? How do you know if this is also the path for you? Ultimately, I can’t give you any 1-2-3′s, I can only tell you what hindsight and clarity have afforded me in respect to this event in my life. After the nail was placed into the coffin of Seminary Year 2, it felt as if scales fell from my eyes and I finally saw how this made total sense and how this was God’s love, mercy, and gift to me. See if any of these ideas resonate, and if so, “examine yourselves” (how do you like that misapplication? Kind of like Hosea in Matthew, huh? Sorry. Different post at a different time.)

First, financially I saw in hindsight that my situation was just not sustainable. This was God’s mercy to me practically. Seeing the trajectory I was on with school, work, expenses, and finances, I don’t know why I was so blind to the fact that I couldn’t go on like this for three more years, over thirty thousand more dollars of debt, and no real work experience (and therefore no marketable skills) to help me get a significant job. Oh wait, my plan had been to go into a five (more) year-long Master’s-Ph.D. program for Psychology, eventually putting me at age 31 with God knows how much debt and never having had a job more prestigious than waiting tables. Maybe some people could make it work. I could not. So ask yourself: Has God clearly granted me the resources necessary to be a good steward of both seminary and life – to do both well and restfully?
Second, theology. This was God’s mercy emotionally. I realized (once more only in hindsight) just how frustrated I had been at the theological differences I have with my seminary. I realized the direction the seminary is going in is one that, frankly, I didn’t want to be associated with five years from now. I’ve realized that those things matter, especially if you are going to a confession-run institution. This really helped make the decision emotionally easier for me. I’m really not going to miss the place that much. I will miss the people, the talks, and a few of the professors that are on their way out there, but not the institution. Ask yourself: Is it seminary per se that I am enjoying at this particular institution or just the people, readings, and a few conversations; and if the latter, would you miss the actual classroom environment if you lost that one thing but still had the others? Where do you disagree with your seminary and do these differences cause more friction than growth there?

Thirdly, I saw much of my growth intellectually stunted. Or maybe just humbled. Or maybe I just matured some. I don’t know. This was, therefore, God’s mercy to me intellectually. This aspect just now came to me and I haven’t really thought through it much. All I know is that at the beginning of seminary I was working on three albums of music, two plays, four books or so, and many hopeful journal articles. Now – all those have more or less fallen by the wayside. I was just too mentally exhausted by the absurdly superfluous and too-lengthy ad nauseam Francis Turretin readings and subsequent reading summaries we were forced to do all semester. I used to have big plans and visions for how to reach the world with the kingdom of God and how I could do that with psychology. Seminary was supposed to help fuel and facilitate these things. Some classes did (especially first semester), but then my thinking waned in many areas. Seminary is supposed to stimulate us to think in ways we never have and then apply Biblical understandings to these things. Ask yourself: Is this causing me to branch out and take intellectual challenges? It is bearing intellectual fruit, or is it just constant sowing and planting and tilling with no reaping or return? Is it causing intellectual ruts to form?

Lastly, sin. As I said earlier, I am a very young man. We have come full-circle. My immaturity has been revealed to me so forcefully in this season. I am merely a shadow of the man I was six months ago. I am more steeped in pride and arrogance than ever in spite of being more aware of that fact more now than ever. The grace and mercy of our loving Savior has shown me deep fear of man issues I am only now wrestling with. I’m realizing more and more of my life has been built upon the need for affirmation and to be built up by the people I make my idols. Seminary was yet another means by which I was trying to prop myself up. Everything both good and bad that I had ever placed my identity in has been taken from me: being an academic, in grad school, a successful writer, a well-known thinker, a culturally astute and well-informed individual in the midst of people that aren’t. Now I’m just a seminary drop-out who’s a counselor in suburban Philadelphia who can barely write blog post.
And this is God’s mercy to me spiritually. It’s incredible. I have never felt more my need and dependency for the One for Whom my soul was made, and for the first time perhaps, I’m tasting the Christian life of repentance I’ve only heard of all my life. I feel so weak, so inadequate, so frail – and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I am more in love with my Savior, restful in His cross, and joyful in His presence than ever, though it’s not in the cheap light fare sort of way. Ask yourself: Is seminary still beautiful? Am I quicker to repent now than two weeks ago? Is not just the workload, but the actual content, revealing my need for Christ? Could I work just as hard at other more fruitful endeavors, perhaps? Am I crying during church anymore? Do I still pray? Do I see my good and God’s glory in this presently?

And maybe that’s the point of this article. More than giving some principles to determine one’s place in seminary. Maybe it’s to encourage you that wherever God has you, it is to this end: that you might see your need for Him and thereby be shaped into His image and your joy. Take heart in a Sovereign, sanctifying God who loves you and is working all things to your good. His will is first and foremost your sanctification and you reflecting His Image more than it is that you go to seminary.

Hold all things with a very loose hand except for the broken body and blood of your slain and risen Lord – hold that very, very dear. Seminary, or no Seminary.

Do any other seminarians ever feel as if your time in seminary is (or was) a sort of limbo (not “limbo” as in the Roman Catholic doctrine)? An in between stage? Or, perhaps a combination of the two? Well, if you do (or did), then hopefully you will find comfort knowing that you are not alone.

No doubt the circumstances surrounding each student’s time in seminary differ. One can look across the class and see an age range from 23 year-olds to some in their 50′s. Many enter seminary with vast experience in ministry, whereas others enter still wet behind the ears. To the degree that the circumstances differ from person to person, I’m sure the answers to the question above would correspondingly vary.

For instance, an individual who has much life experience, whether in ministry or not, might not see his or her time in seminary as being in limbo (i.e. an indefinite state). They may still have a career allowing only part-time status. This more “complex” life might then cause seminary to seem as just another part of the weekly routine. On the flip-side, there may be a student fresh out of undergrad who has zero “real world” experience and, therefore, might experience his time in seminary as an intermediate period before he enters into his vocation as a minister. In this “limbo” he may work a part-time job in order to support what he considers to be his “real job” – his education.

There are of course other scenarios that could describe others’ situations, but the implications of whether or not a student sees themselves in an intermediate period and/or in limbo affects (either positively or negatively) how they approach his or her studies, the jobs they work (ministry related or not), and other important pieces to his or her daily life.

If one views his or her time in seminary as an in between stage (i.e. in between undergrad or a previous job and being a pastor) they may approach life in the here-and-now as if it can’t be lived fully. In other words, because what he is doing now isn’t where he’s ultimately going to be, then what he’s doing now somehow restricts him to live the quality of life he may anticipate he’ll be able to live once he becomes a pastor.
It’s almost like a long car ride to your vacation destination. Some may consider that car ride as a mere means to get to where they really want to be; therefore, the car ride is boring and/or loathed over. However, one can choose to see the car ride as an opportunity to be on vacation just as much as they will be on vacation once they get to the beach. The ride doesn’t have to be less lived, or enjoyed.

In essence, as this is considered, seeing clearly how we understand (and therefore handle) our time in seminary might produce some positive change to how we do life in general. It is not presumed here that all seminarians are victims to these kinds of thoughts and/or behaviors, but given the nature of how people in this culture commonly do life, surely there are some that fall into this pattern to some extent.

As much as it is true that attending seminary is largely a time of preparation for a future ministry of some kind (a means to an end), it is equally true that the here-and-now (including all of our obligations and relationships) should be approached with a full intentionality that allows us to be content with the life we are living.

Perhaps this boils down to the question: How do we handle seminary as a “means” and yet not error in taking the training lightly on the one hand, or on the other, allowing it to get in the way of the rest of our lives? Where’s the balance?

As I was writing my previous post, ‘Balancing Church and Seminary,’ I realized that a lot of what I was writing assumed that you were in a time in your life where you needed to choose a church.  But since not everyone in seminary is in such a season of life, it did not make sense for any of that material to be in the final cut.  Still, as I reread what I had written, I thought it might make a good post by itself.  Churchgoers (not just seminarians, but all churchgoers) need to practice wisdom in choosing which church to attend.  This is the case for several reasons:

1. Membership in a local church is necessary for growth. Our regular contact with other Christians is one of the primary ways in which God sanctifies us.  If we are not attending one church and surrounding ourselves with the same people on a weekly basis – people who know us well enough to help us grow through encouragement and, when necessary, chastisement – then we are seriously undermining this marvelous means of grace.  To be clear, I’m talking about church discipline here.  I believe that church discipline takes place, not only when church leaders confront sin in their midst (both privately and publicly), but when regular people in the church encourage the growth of one another.
2. The American church scene today is woefully consumeristic. Most thoughtful Christians I have met have a sense that this is true; but David Wells drives the point home in his book The Courage to be Protestant.  The point is that churches that are both rooted in Scripture and connected with the historic faith have much to offer American culture (or any culture, for that matter).  When we jump from church to church, we force the Church to serve our desires.  Even worse, we exchange the truth they’re hearing from the pulpit for a lie – the lie that God exists for us.  It’s as if we skewered the gospel and held it up like a white flag to the culture saying, “You’ve won!”  I can only speak from my own experience, but I would guess that this is a problem (to varying degrees) in much of the Western Church.

So, now that we’ve established to need to be part of a church, what church should you choose?  Let me begin by emphasizing my hope that these following points do not tempt anyone reading to leave any church at which they might already be members.  That would fly right in the face of point number 2 above.  But, if you are in a place where you need to find a church (having just moved to attend seminary, perhaps), then keep the following in mind:

1. Try to choose a church near where you live. This is just good advice whether or not you’re in seminary.  There is no practical way to be seriously involved in a church if you have to drive 45 minutes to get there.  If you’re in a place where there are a lot of options, proximity should be fairly high on the list of factors that helps you choose a particular church.  I sense that this is going to be a problem in younger, sprawling cities more so than in smaller communities or older cities that came of age before mass transit and the automobile.  After all, in a smaller community there may be only one church to choose from (hopefully the leadership there is faithful to the gospel!).  This is still worthy of mention, though.
2. Find a church that matches your vision of community. I like churches that encourage a close community spirit within their congregations.  The church I go to now has a lot of young, single adults.  Many of the young men are getting together to rent houses or large apartments, and likewise with the women.  This also complements my first suggestion.  It won’t make much difference if you choose to live near a church if everybody else lives 45 minutes away!  Others would prefer to sacrifice some community closeness for a more serious approach to worship, and I think that would fall under this category (worship is, after all, a community event).  You will likely find, upon reflecting here, that you have a lot of preferences about what you would like to see.  Let me encourage you to expect compromise here.  It’s not a bad thing.  Growing in grace means being able to be gracious with others, including others in the Church.
3. And finally, if you are in seminary, always avoid the temptation to replace church relationships with seminary relationships. This is not at all to say that relationships with professors and students at seminary are not important.  They will be extremely important in helping you solidify a vision for your future ministry.  This is simply to say that if you’re not engaged in a church, then you’re missing something.  Involvement in a worship community both as a participant and, where appropriate, as a leader, is paramount with respect to your growth as a Christian.

There are other things that could be said here.  If you’re in seminary, would kind of church would you like to pastor upon graduation (assuming that is your calling)?  You may want to factor that into your decision and choose a church with similar sensibilities.  That way, you can get some face time with your pastor and potentially score yourself an internship.  Even if that does not work out, it’s very likely you’ll see enough of the inner workings of that church to form a better picture of your own ministry down the road.

Keeping these points in mind, you should be better equipped to make a wise decision concerning your next church.  As seminarians, this approach will complement to approach you take toward ministry within the local church once you’re there.  Remember, our goal as ministers is to work for the good of our congregations.  As I hope I made clear in ‘Balancing Church and Seminary,’ that work ought to start now – even with choosing a church.  Let’s help build healthy, stable, faithful churches that love the gospel and love others.

As I began discerning a call to seminary, 1 Timothy 4:6-16 came up early and often. Early in the discernment process, when I read that passage, I ended up focusing my attention on parts of verse 6, “you will be a good servant of Christ Jesus, being trained in the words of the faith and of the good doctrine that you have followed.” Early on, this verse encapsulated my entire motivation and purpose behind pursuing seminary–training “in the words of faith and of good doctrine.” And although the desire in my heart for this type of training was not wrong, I know that I emphasized it to the point that it was the only type of training that seminary would provide and the only type of training that I acknowledged in Paul’s letter.

However, there is another type of training, which may, in fact, be the more important of the two. For everyone in seminary, on their way to seminary (like myself) or considering seminary, we must not forget Paul’s exhortation in verse 7: “train yourself in godliness.” [why? verse 8]: “for while bodily training is of some value, godliness is of value in every way, as it holds promise for the present life and also for the life to come.” I constantly forget, and thus must constantly be reminded, that scriptural and doctrinal knowledge is not an end in itself. The point of our sanctification (growth in godliness) is not that we would merely know more, but that we would be “transformed into the same image“ (2 Corinthians 3:18) as our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Scriptural and doctrinal knowledge is but one means to that end.

How can we tell if we have turned theological training (and thus our motivation in pursuing seminary) into the end itself?

I just recently began reading How People Change by Timothy S. Lane and Paul David Tripp. The very first chapter of the book, “The Gospel Gap” called my attention back to 1 Timothy 4:6-16. They essentially discuss how it is possible that there are so many people that know the Lord, “but whose lives fail to produce the expected fruit of faith” (p.3). Lane and Tripp write, “Often there is a vast gap in our grasp of the gospel. It subverts our identity as Christians and our understanding of the present work of God. This gap undermines every relationship in our lives, every decision we make, and every attempt to minister to others. Yet we live blindly, as if the hole were not there” (p.2).

What I found incredibly helpful (and pertinent to “training in godliness”) was how they began to describe different ways in which we fill these holes. Lane and Tripp assert, “Whenever we are missing the message of Christ’s indwelling work to progressively transform us, the hole will be filled by a Christian lifestyle that focuses more on externals than on the heart” (p.7). As I began to read their descriptions of different sorts of Christian externals, one stood out above all the rest in my mind. If you are a twenty-something Calvinist that has Driscoll, Piper, and Chandler on podcast, has a bunch of blog subscriptions, then this one might catch your attention as well (hey, it could just be me!)–Lane and Tripp call it “Biblicism”:

“John is a biblical and theological expert. His theological library includes rare, antique Christian volumes, and he is always seeking to buy first editions. John frequently uses phrases like “biblical worldview,” “theologically consistent.” and “thinking like a Christian.” He loves the Bible (which is a very good thing), but there are things in John’s life that don’t seem to fit.

Despite his dedicated study of Christianity, John isn’t know for being like Christ. He has a reputation for being proud, critical, and intolerant of anyone who lacks his fine-grained understanding of the faith. John endlessly critiques his pastor’s sermons and unnerves Sunday school teachers when he enters the room.

In John’s Christianity, communion, dependency, and worship of Christ have been replaced by a drive to master the content of Scripture and systematic theology. John is a theological expert, but he is unable to live by the grace he can define with such technical precision. He has invested a great deal of time and energy mastering the Word, but he does not allow the Word to master him. In biblicism, the gospel is reduced to a mastery of biblical content and theology.” (p.9)

Lane and Tripp do not make this leap, but I will. What if the first line of “biblicism” read: “John is in seminary”? I pray that my name would not be interchangeable with John’s, and yet I know this describes the type of Christian “externalism” that I move towards at times. I pray that I am not at this point right now, but I know that if I base my salvation on “rightly knowing” about the cross of Christ, and not the cross itself, that this is the form of self-righteousness will haunt me. I can not say this with any certainty, but I wonder if this might describe the struggle that many seminarians will and do face.

We must constantly remember–I must constantly remember–that training “in the words of the faith and of the good doctrine” and training “in godliness” must not be separated. All the knowledge in the world is useless if we are not conformed to Christ’s image in the process. Preparing to enter seminary in the fall, I often recall Jesus’ words to the Jews in John 5:39-40: “You search the Scriptures because you think that in them you have eternal life; and it is they that bear witness about me, yet you refuse to come to me that you may have life.” It is a scary thought indeed to be able to claim a great deal of biblical knowledge and still not truly know Jesus Christ, much less sit under His Lordship. As Lane and Tripp phrase it–as a future seminarian myself–I must constantly allow the Word to master me, as I invest a great deal of time and energy mastering the Word.

I urge us all to take to heart Paul’s exhortation: “Keep a close watch on yourself (godliness) and on the teaching (good doctrine). Persist in this, for by so doing you will save both yourself and your hearers” (1 Timothy 4:16). Our knowledge of Scripture does not cleanse us of our sin, only Christ’s blood poured out for us on the cross has that power. I pray that we would not simply intellectually grasp this, but that we would know it in our hearts, and it would transform us “from one degree of glory to another” (2 Cor. 3:18) into the image of our Lord.

This post was written by Stephen Hess, a Rhode Island native and recent graduate of the University of Richmond, Virginia. Stephen will be heading off to St. Louis in August for the 4-year M.Div program at Covenant Theological Seminary.

About a month ago, I came across an Acts 29 Network Boot Camp message from Darrin Patrick, Lead Pastor of The Journey in St. Louis, entitled, “Cultivating a Culture of Repentance.” Presenting some observations from his own pastoral experience, and insights from Dan Allender’s Leading with a Limp, he discussed the need for leaders to have a healthy God-honoring reluctance. Exploring the Scriptures, Patrick elaborated on reluctance in the life and ministry of the Apostle Paul. Just a few months away from entering seminary, I have been trying to figure out what God-honoring reluctance looks like. When does reluctance in the life of leader fail to honor God? As I have been searching the Scriptures myself, God’s calling of Moses in Exodus has provided some initial answers for me. Moses is certainly reluctant to God’s call on his life.

But, what is the nature of Moses’ reluctance? When God tells him that he is being sent to Pharaoh that he may bring God’s people, the children of Israel out of Egypt, Moses replies, “Who am I” (Exodus 3:11). Later in that same conversation after God has revealed Himself as “I am” (Ex. 3:14), Moses’ reluctance is voiced again, “O, my Lord, I am not eloquent, either in the past or since you have spoken to your servant, but I am slow of speech and of tongue” (Ex. 4:10). These two initial responses by Moses strike me as possible examples of God honoring reluctance. Moses hears God’s call of his life, and then examines his life. Who am I to lead Your people out of captivity? How am I qualified for this task? How can I possibly address Pharaoh, the very person who had the power to enslave Your people? I do not have eloquent and wise words. As Moses examines his own position and his own abilities, reluctance emerges.

Why do I not harbor that same reluctance as I head off for four years of pastoral training? The truth is that I rely more on my perceived spiritual gifts than the Spirit himself. Shouldn’t we all be reluctant to lead in any sphere of life when we examine our own abilities and motives? Maybe I am not as reluctant because there is pride in my heart that needs to ripped out. Do I honestly believe that I am such an excellent communicator that my own words and not God’s Spirit produces heart change? Do I honestly think that just because I read theology and listened to sermons in my spare time as a college student, that those very assignments that I am excited about will not war against me, just as the curse God placed upon man in Genesis 3 reveals? Reluctance to lead and follow God’s call on our life may in fact be honoring to Him when that reluctance arises from a close examination of our own lives.

I love God’s response to Moses, even while there is part of me that begrudges His response. After Moses raises the honest question, “Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh and bring the children of Israel out of Egypt,” God replies, “But I will be with you” (Ex. 4:10). The improper motivations of my heart to pursue pastoral ministry lead me to begrudge this response. When I think about my own reservations about seminary, I want God to respond by telling me how great a communicator I am, how I have a commanding stage presence, and a bright mind. But He does not respond that way!! When He responded to Moses, and as He responds to me, He does not try to build up our self-esteem, He reminds us of His sovereign power. The strength to lead and follow God’s call does not come from our own strength, but rather God’s presence in us! Our reluctance should never flow from this knowledge.

Reluctance to lead that fails to honor God comes when we not only doubt our own spiritual gifts and heart, but God’s sovereign power and desire. When Moses doubts his own rhetorical skills, God responds, “Who has made man’s mouth? Who makes him mute, or deaf, or seeing, or blind? Is it not I, the Lord? Now, therefore go, and I will be with your mouth and teach you what you shall speak” (Ex. 4:11-12). “Therefore go,” be reluctant no longer. God has all the authority. It is Moses’ persistent reluctance after God’s response here that dishonors Him. The righteous “anger of the LORD was kindled against Moses” (Ex. 4:14) because Moses’ reluctance was a belittlement of God’s strength and power.

As I ask God to prepare my heart for seminary and possibly pastoral ministry, I ask that I would be reluctant for the right reasons. I pray that He would root out all the pride in my heart that speaks only of self-sufficiency and skills. But I also pray that He would provide me with courage to go where He already has all the authority (which is both in heaven and on earth)! I pray that He would mold me into a reluctant leader that is always confessing and repenting from sin, from improper motives and attempts to build up my own name. I pray that we would all have a reluctance that makes Him great and us small.

Semester 1 Stats:

• Less than 4 months (Sept-Dec)
• Pages of papers written: 114
• Pages of notes taken: 154
• Pages read: about 1,900 (+/-100)

Total pages written: 268 (I produced just over 13% of what I consumed)

Ending GPA: 3.2

Wow. That first semester. Semester 2 began here recently and I’m both excited and hesitant. Last semester gave me wrestlings and questions I never knew were there. It showed me depths and complexities of my own sin I never knew resided in my heart. I never knew just how undisciplined I am. It seems that the greater the work load, the more things I use to distract myself from doing it. The TV website hulu (that had that great Super Bowl commercial) consumed more hours of my life than did Greek or reading. I think I tripled how many shows I kept up with. It’s embarrassing and difficult for me to admit that, but it’s true. My Bible reading withered down to a few chapters a week. I didn’t get to spend time with anyone from my church. I questioned my place at the church, attempting to leave a few times before God exposed my pride and youthful arrogance and called me to submit to the place he had called me to. I realized I am self-willed, addicted to control and self-pleasure, and unwilling to properly steward the relationships and opportunities God places in my life.

In short: my first semester was the most amazing 4 months of my life.

I just want to use the rest of this post to list out the main take-aways I got from this first semester in seminary. If this is what just one semester does to me, I have no idea what 6 or 7 more will do. This is going to be an incredible experience. So I hope these lessons and wrestlings find a place in all your hearts as just one sojourner’s path down this bloody, uphill, broken, tear-stained, cross-bearing road called the Christian stumble.

• My biggest take-away all semester: I am a weak and finite man wholly dependent on the grace of God for anything good within him.
• The substance of this Christian life is one of God using people, circumstances, and His Spirit to show you the depths of your own weakness and sin, that you might see His love and faithfulness toward you to a greater degree and that this might lead you to worship and rest in Him more.
• The entire logic and reason behind the whole of the Christian faith is ultimately circular, just like everyone else’s epistemology. But circular logic is okay, as long as you’re in the right circle.
• God has so structured this “Christianity” thing such that it would all depend wholly on faith. Ultimately we believe in God because we do. Any reason other that that makes that the authority our faith is resting upon. This faith is messy. Our canon development, textual criticism, historiography, and even our very knowledge of God rests ultimately on our faith in Him, and not on any external standard or rule of truth.
• I am more sinful than I ever dared imagined, but more loved than I could ever dare hope.
• Due to the curse of God on this earth because of Adam, everything will war against me being the man God has called me to be.
• God has given me the opportunities, things, and relationships in my life not to feed my lusts and insecurities, but rather for me to properly steward and enjoy them as God has providentially led them to be right now.
• Sanctification is a crawl; it is no super-highway. It is progressive and rarely happens in spurts. I have waited too long for “the perfect sermon”, “the perfect song”, or “the perfect Bible verse” to change me rather than resting on and in the perfect righteousness of my Savior.
• The imputation of the righteousness of Jesus Christ to His believers is my favorite and most precious doctrine of the Christian faith. Clothing His sin-stained Bride in the robe of His own life is the foundation of my acceptance and rest in the arms of my Lover.
• Right theology must lead to both right practice and worship for it to be true Orthodoxy. Anyone studying the Bible who is not stirred at the affectional level is not doing theology, they are merely studying literature.

Semester 2 has come with me not as prepared for Greek as I should be, but with a fire in my bones and a grace upon my heart to find the discipline and time management to fully take advantage of all this semester has to offer. If you get this far down this post, please pray for me, that I might remain conscious of my finitude and weakness, trusting alone in all my Savior has accomplished on my behalf that I might freely enjoy Him and every nuance of who He is.

Grace and peace. (oh the beauty of those words!)

I know of a student (through a friend at a different seminary than mine) that is finishing his M.div in 5 semesters.  This means that in two and a half years, he finished a 90+ hour masters level degree.  While it had to be cheaper, and quicker, I really have to think about how much he learned.

Terry wrote a great post just a few days ago about the different venues of learning while we are in seminary. The classroom is definitely one, but think about the workplace, or in simple conversation.  Maybe your school offers extra-curricular learning in the form of seminars and lecture series.  I work in the chapel office at Asbury and I can say that I have taken away a great deal from just being in worship with my community three times a week.

I also think about the friendships that I have made.  I love that I have several different groups of people that challenge me to think in unique and creative ways.  I am challenged to do original scholarship and have places to encourage and groom that practice.  I am able to work at a small church (that is wildly different from my own views at times) and pour into a handful of teenagers that need a positive influence as well as take care of the elderly widows in my congregation.

I understand wanting to get through seminary quick.  Many of my students are candidates for ordination in a denomination that requires an M.div.  Others worked in ministry for several years beforehand, and need a degree to move up in the vocational world.  Some simply want to get back on with life, start having a family or settle down.  There are good reasons for wanting to stay on a schedule.  But I question hurrying through, because there is so much that is missed.  I can’t wait until I am older and my seminary friends and I can look back on a long career and remember the times that we were involved in each others formation during a short season in life.  I am also worried that it is possible to develop a lifelong practice of rushing through important, formative experiences.

Flying through seminary means that you are able to “get on with the real ministry”, but I wonder how many chances were lost?  How much schoolwork will be retained? If you loose a good bit, were you wasting the money you spent getting the education?  I know that some of us can’t rip through the noun declensions in Greek every day, but still can work your way through a text with some resources.  Did you get to really know anybody?  Did you allow Christian friends access into your deepest thoughts and practice mutual confession and accountability?  Ministry can be a lonely task-and seminary is one of the best places to build a strong group of friends that can be with you for the entire journey.

When all is done, I will have been at seminary a little over 5 years (finishing 2 degrees).  I work full time and take full-time load, but not the max allowed hours and I have never taken class in the summer.  I value the non-traditional side of my education as much as the classroom, maybe even more.  When I was looking at seminaries, the community was as important as the classroom, and I feel that I made the right choice for me. I don’t want to step on anyones toes that is trying to “truck it” through, but I do hope that everyone will realize how important savoring this time is.  Whenever I get tired of it, I remember two things. The first is how bad I wanted to be here, for many years.  The second is the amount of people that would do anything to be in my (our) shoes, devoting our entire lives to the study of God.  Then I step back, breathe and continue on.

We are now through the first month of using the Letters of Samuel Rutherford as a devotional in 2009. If you are reading along, I pray you have been as blessed as I have been. I would like to take some time to reflect back on some quotes as well as some overall thoughts regarding the letters in general from the previous month’s set of letters. Finally, at the bottom I will give the list for which letters to read for the next month—in this case, February.

General Reflections

If you have been reading these letters, then you surely have been struck by the Christ-centered tone of them. When we think of a pastor who is saturated with the glory of Christ today, many of us think of a man like John Piper. However, Samuel Rutherford exudes a passion for Christ that, if alive today, would rock this world. His passion for everything Christ is contagious. I have found myself, in much smaller snippets, thinking like Samuel Rutherford.

I can’t help but think that this love for Christ is not like a switch that can be turned on or off. This is something that must be cultivated through daily communion with Him in prayer and Scripture reading and meditation. Some things I am sure we would all say we could do more of each day. I have been challenged by Rutherford to be the kind of Christ exalting, Christ loving minister that he was for the sake of those whom I have been given the responsibility for spiritual shepherding.

Quotes

“Ye cannot, ye must not, have a more pleasant or more easy condition here, than He had, who ‘through afflictions was made perfect’(Heb. 2:10).
–Letter XI

What can be said about this quote other than to just sit back in silent rebuke. I do not know about you, but that quote stings. How often have we thought that we were “suffering for the sake of the gospel” by living in a smaller house or driving an old beater of a car? Not many in America have truly suffered for the gospel. Certainly none of us think that we ought not have a more pleasant than Christ!

”wait as long upon the favour and turned hearts of your enemies as you Christ waited upon you, and as dear Jesus stood at your soul’s door, with dewy and rainy locks, the long cold night.”
–Letter XII

How often have we given up on sharing the gospel with someone because they were a “lost cause?” Here, Samuel is giving pastoral advice to a lady who is dealing with an unbeliever and telling her to persevere with patience and love because Christ did the same for her. Consequently, he is talking about you in this passage if you are one who quickly gives up on sharing the gospel with an unbeliever. If Christ didn’t give up on you, you should not give up on the person with whom you have been witnessing to.

”Sure I am, brother, that Satan will leave no stone unrolled, as the proverb is, to roll you off your Rock, or at least to shake and unsettle you”
–Letter XXII

We do not talk much about the spiritual battles these days, but they are real and they are choking the faith of many saints today. This quote helps to make us aware that Satan is ever on the lookout for ways to shake our faith. To think of the efforts that Satan is willing to go through to shake your faith should be something we are conscious especially in the culture we live in today where sin is used to entice you at every turn. (How many Christians own one of those enV cell phones?)

There are so many quotes from which to choose that selecting just these three does a disservice to Samuel Rutherford’s letters. However, for the sake of space, I must only discuss these three. If you have any quotes or insights that you would like to share, please do so below.

February

The letters for February consist of letters XXXII through LIX (32-59). You can read letter 37 online at Puritan Sermons