Gittin' mysulf a' ay-jukayshun
I'm long overdue for a post. So if anyone's still reading (this means you, Dad), I apologize. A two month sabbatical should mean I have lots to say, yet I feel remarkably blogless. It's not a general weariness with life or anything: I simply don't know what to tell you. But I'll give it a go anyway.
As you know, I am a graduate student, and one pursuing a seminary-style degree, no less. Things are going well, I must say, but I have observed a few dangers along the way, so let me share those with you as well as a few ideas on how to avoid the pitfalls.
1. Pride. Knowledge leads to pride. Period. Not that it's a strict inevitability-- locked in with mathematical precision--but a nearly irresistible slide nonetheless. Unfortunately, biblical, spiritual, and pastoral knowledge are not exempt from this vice. In fact, in some ways the study of "religious" things makes one even more susceptible, because it threatens to make a person feel superior not only intellectually, but spiritually as well. Fortunately, that's not the final word. We have quite a good safeguard against both pride generally and religious pride in particular: To spend more time practicing Christianity than talking about it.
2. Criticism. Key to our training as scholars is analytical thinking. There are plenty of facts to be accosted, no doubt, but in the world of academia, facts mean nothing apart from analysis. So analyze we must, and analyze we do. Everything. Other people, cultures, value systems, ideologies, churches. Again we find a unique danger for us seminarians: Because our "expertise" lies in the realm of things religious, we're especially prone to criticize many things that are or are nearly sacred, including Scripture or even Deity. If there is a safeguard in this direction, I haven't yet discovered it, though I suspect it lies somewhere in the direction of not allowing oneself to become too divorced from normal life--nature, non-academics, church, and spiritual disciplines.
Those are, for me, the two major pitfalls of seminary, and really education in general. The list is far from exhausted, but lest I be guilty of thinking myself too apt a guide (pride) or of focusing too much on things wicked and dubious (over-analysis), I think I shall end the list there. Perhaps some day I can tell you of the joys and good of a seminary education. Perhaps some day I can tell you in person. Till then, blessings.
As you know, I am a graduate student, and one pursuing a seminary-style degree, no less. Things are going well, I must say, but I have observed a few dangers along the way, so let me share those with you as well as a few ideas on how to avoid the pitfalls.
1. Pride. Knowledge leads to pride. Period. Not that it's a strict inevitability-- locked in with mathematical precision--but a nearly irresistible slide nonetheless. Unfortunately, biblical, spiritual, and pastoral knowledge are not exempt from this vice. In fact, in some ways the study of "religious" things makes one even more susceptible, because it threatens to make a person feel superior not only intellectually, but spiritually as well. Fortunately, that's not the final word. We have quite a good safeguard against both pride generally and religious pride in particular: To spend more time practicing Christianity than talking about it.
2. Criticism. Key to our training as scholars is analytical thinking. There are plenty of facts to be accosted, no doubt, but in the world of academia, facts mean nothing apart from analysis. So analyze we must, and analyze we do. Everything. Other people, cultures, value systems, ideologies, churches. Again we find a unique danger for us seminarians: Because our "expertise" lies in the realm of things religious, we're especially prone to criticize many things that are or are nearly sacred, including Scripture or even Deity. If there is a safeguard in this direction, I haven't yet discovered it, though I suspect it lies somewhere in the direction of not allowing oneself to become too divorced from normal life--nature, non-academics, church, and spiritual disciplines.
Those are, for me, the two major pitfalls of seminary, and really education in general. The list is far from exhausted, but lest I be guilty of thinking myself too apt a guide (pride) or of focusing too much on things wicked and dubious (over-analysis), I think I shall end the list there. Perhaps some day I can tell you of the joys and good of a seminary education. Perhaps some day I can tell you in person. Till then, blessings.