3 Thoughts on 6 Years (Part 3)
June 10, 2010
Spring 2010 is the season in which I will complete grad school. I picked up my cap and gown today (Two quick comments about the standard graduation attire: 1. The traditional cap and gown are the most pointless and impractical pieces of apparel known to mankind, and 2. Men are pinned into a corner in which there is no easy way out having to refer to the outfit as a gown–a classic Catch 22). My family is coming into town this weekend. And I will walk, shake some hands, and receive my diploma on Saturday. In the next three posts I will do my best to narrow six years of learning into three takeaways, lessons, or sound bytes so you can be qualified for a graduate degree after reading (I’ll even thrown in the cap and man cloak if you’re interested because I clearly have no idea what to do with it once this weekend is over).
We Are What We Believe.
Or we live what we believe.
Either way, what we believe will determine how we think, speak, and behave.
We are what we eat. We become who we hang out with. You can tell what magazines people read by the way they dress. Our mouths mimic the movies we watch and music we listen to. Marketers have an agenda and everyone has an opinion about what we should wear or refrain from wearing, eat or not eat, watch or censor, befriend, unfriend, and ignore, and what we should believe. Everything presses in upon us but we are influenced by what we believe and accept. And more often than not, we accept the ideals that we believe will benefit us most. In America we have the power of preference – I’ll choose what works for me, you choose what works for you.
Seminary opened my eyes to the fact that, more often than I care to admit and more often than I think I even recognize, I approach the Bible in the same way. I like to pick and choose what’s easy to swallow, “looks good on me”, and accommodates my life. My life reveals what I believe and accept about the Bible.
Everyone has a worldview – the set of beliefs one has about the world, and how it works, that directly or indirectly drives their lives. If someone believes that anarchy is the best form of rule then we will see it in the ways they respect and respond to authority. If someone believes that life is all about pleasure then we will see all their money, time, and energy expended to attain it. If someone believes Caucasians are the superior race then it will be exposed in the ways they treat other races.
I think we can even take it a step further. Everyone lives by their theology – the science or study of God that factors into our worldview or lays the foundation for it. The forms and expressions of God we believe in affect how we approach God, interact with people, and treat the planet. If God is holding the granite copies of the 10 Commandments in His hands, waiting to see who He can smite, then people with this belief will work relentlessly to attain perfection to avoid the “Almighty Smiter”. If God is distant and “unavailable at this time” then those with this belief will retract dependency on God and place full dependency on themselves for salvation and peace. If God carries around lambs all the time and whispers a lot then He’ll attract a lot of women but ostracize many men. If God is, as Derek Webb sarcastically sings, “a white, middle-class, republican” then He’ll require an acceptable personal profile with voting history to get into heaven.
Our worldview shapes our theology and our theology shapes our worldview.
And both greatly dictate how we live.
My six years in school exposed the reality that my theology and worldview influence and determine my behavior. I have also realized that much of what I do is not based on theology but on my personal preference. My preferences are not an expression of right theology but they are an expression of myactual theology.
I can let my preference become my god, determining what I let in, what I keep out, what I accept, and what I reject about the true God. Donald Miller has helped me sift through this matter, “Theology can become an idol, but it is more useful as guardrails on a road to the true God. Theology is very important, but it is not God, and knowing facts about God is not the same as knowing God.” Seminary has not only challenged me to know and learn theology properly, but also assess how my theology is causing me to live.
3 Thoughts on 6 Years (Part 2)
May 20, 2010
Spring 2010 is the season in which I will complete grad school. I picked up my cap and gown today (Two quick comments about the standard graduation attire: 1. The traditional cap and gown are the most pointless and impractical pieces of apparel known to mankind, and 2. Men are pinned into a corner in which there is no easy way out having to refer to the outfit as a gown–a classic Catch 22). My family is coming into town this weekend. And I will walk, shake some hands, and receive my diploma on Saturday. In the next three posts I will do my best to narrow six years of learning into three takeaways, lessons, or sound bytes so you can be qualified for a graduate degree after reading (I’ll even thrown in the cap and man cloak if you’re interested because I clearly have no idea what to do with it once this weekend is over).
The Past Is For The Present.
In the modern day church world (or Christian bubble–which is such a painful description but a true reality) church history is often neglected, overlooked, and even condemned. In our attempts to keep our churches up with Lady Gaga’s performances, MTV’s websites, and American Apparel fashion we discount the wisdom and legacy of those who have bolstered us here. Simply put, we have become too busy and life is often too loud for us to slow down to listen and learn from followers of Jesus of centuries ago.
Some will retort giving the critique that church history can be ignored because of the damage and suffering the church has caused over time. These very things must be addressed, confessed as wrong, and repented of in the present. But these things should not cause us to neglect the wealth of riches found throughout church history. Here are a few gems from years past.
St. Augustine. He famously exclaimed, “Thou hast made us for thyself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they find their rest in thee.” We can rest in God when we fear Him, “‘Behold, the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom.’ If you ask further what is meant in that place, the Greek calls it…the worship of God.” Worshiping God is the cure to a life of aimless wandering.
St. John Chrysostom. He emphasized the importance of spiritual poverty and it’s influence on our care for the physically impoverished. “The art of being poor is to trust in God for everything, to demand nothing–and to be grateful for all that is given.” Continuing he says, “Imagine a society in which no one sold anything, but everyone shared freely their skills and wealth. Then every action in that society would bring not only material benefits, but spiritual benefits also…heaven would come down to earth.”
Martin Luther. He fought for faith alone. He proclaim that faith in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus alone, not tradition, church attendance, or the sacraments, is the only thing that saves a man. And through this faith and salvation the “Christian must be a Christ to his neighbor” offering all salvation through faith alone.
St. Patrick. He used green beer to reach an entirely pagan nation with the grace and truth of Christ. His modus operandi was something along the lines of, “Lord, Give me Ireland or I die.”
Jonathan Edwards. He didn’t allow the emotionalism of religion to negate the intellectual necessity of faith. During the New England revivals of the 18th century he intentionally instructed people in the importance of using their brains to understand their faith instead of relying solely on our feelings. Our feelings, good and bad, are catalysts for dependency on God.
I enrolled six years ago confident in myself and my Biblical/historical/spiritual knowledge only to discover that I was a prideful idiot who needed a good dose of humility to hear out and learn from those who laid foundations for my education. These individuals had their failings and a number of them stirred up a good deal of controversy. At the core of their being their greatest motivation was to uphold the name and truth’s of Jesus and see His church conformed to His image. Their contribution of the past has given us great knowledge and examples for worshiping God and loving people in the present.
Thank you.
3 Thoughts on 6 Years (Part 1)
May 13, 2010
Spring 2010 is the season in which I will complete grad school. I picked up my cap and gown today (Two quick comments about the standard graduation attire: 1. The traditional cap and gown are the most pointless and impractical pieces of apparel known to mankind, and 2. Men are pinned into a corner in which there is no easy way out having to refer to the outfit as a gown–a classic Catch 22). My family is coming into town this weekend. And I will walk, shake some hands, and receive my diploma on Saturday. In the next three posts I will do my best to narrow six years of learning into three takeaways, lessons, or sound bytes so you can be qualified for a graduate degree after reading (I’ll even thrown in the cap and man cloak if you’re interested because I clearly have no idea what to do with it once this weekend is over).
Seminary Is Not Cemetery.
Contrary to popular mishearing and awfully cheesy church jokes seminary is not another word for cemetery nor is it a place where excited and aspiring young ministers must go to die. Seminary is a fancy term for a theological school of higher learning. Just like the term “cap and gown” there must have been a better option out there other than the word “seminary”.
It frustrates me like crazy when pastors refer to seminary as cemetery (usually to an uproar of laughter from the congregation). This may be because I heard a number of preachers refer to it in this way while I was currently enrolled in such an academic institution. As the pastor poked and the crowd giggled I guess I took offense because indirectly I was being laughed at.
Truth is I dropped out of school after my first go at it because I felt like my passion for God, His call, and His Word was being zapped with each class I attended and with every heavy, pictureless book I read. Dropping out of seminary was the best decision I made. During my hiatus I realized that I had entered graduate school strictly under the misconception that people going into church ministry had to attend seminary and attain a Masters of Divinity degree. Basing my decision on this misunderstanding alone I neglected prayer, counsel, and timing. I jumped right in confident in myself, riding the “applause” of people, and sure that God had my back.
I almost drowned.
Humbled, burnt out, and academically drenched I did my best to pursue everything I had previously abandoned. I asked God what He thought about me attending seminary and what degree program to enroll in. I sought advice from friends and family. I took some time to figure out that my identity was not based on whether or not I went to school, but on my value and worth before God through faith in Jesus.
A year and a half later I reenrolled and changed my major.
Seminary didn’t get easier but it made a lot more sense. It didn’t deplete my passion or my calling it actually intensified it. Before I had used seminary as a status symbol before men and before God. I had expected seminary to make me more spiritual. I had viewed seminary as a stepping stone to ministry success. Recalibrated and refocused seminary became secondary to my walk with God. Seminary became commentary to the Bible. Seminary became a breeding ground for my understanding of the importance of the Gospel, theology, and God’s work among people throughout history.
Seminary is not cemetery only if God is alive and active forgiving and freeing people. But seminary will kill or deplete any man if God remains an academic topic to be dissected instead of studied, pondered, and worshiped.