The Point of Theological Education

I think what made learning the stick shift so important was that it was a concept completely foreign to me. I grew up never needing to know this skill - it was automatic to know only an automatic transmission. Inquiring about driving a stick-shift as an adult brought about a certain amount of vulnerability because for the people who taught me, the skill came quite naturally to them, for they had developed their abilities over a long course of time - in other words, manual had become their automatic. Learning anything so foreign as an adult is difficult because our brains have been wired in a particular way for a longer period of time.

And yet, it's never too late to learn something new. It takes practice, persistence and above all, humility to be instructed. I have learned that the simplest way we can grow as individuals is to ask questions - to act on our curiosity and to be open-minded to learning about something that scares us or to try something we've never done before. In the same light, I have hard-wired my brain in the subject of theology for a large portion of the last 15 years. Going to seminary was actually a very natural progression and something that I'd known I would do for a long time. Therefore, completing my four year Masters of Divinity degree and completing my "manual transmission instruction" are two very different kinds of accomplishments. Graduating from seminary feels incredibly awesome because of how passionate I am about God and graduating from the "school of stick-shift driving" feels incredibly awesome because of how unfamiliar and uncomfortable I used to feel about driving anything with a clutch.

There seems to be a lot of unspoken curiosity about the point of theological education today. I sense there are many both in and out of the church who wonder about people like me who spend four years studying theology, religion and all things supernatural. A significant part of me avoided seminary for several years because I didn't want people to look at me and think that I had become too stuffy, arrogant or entitled and thereby alienate people around me with my "superior" knowledge of the Bible. I didn't want to learn so much that I lost my critical edge, empathy and approachability with people who might be inquisitive about living by faith or joining a church. Something is communicated to people when they encounter anyone with a collar or Pastor/Reverend in front of their name, and all too often that message is negative for whatever the reason. There are of course many exceptions to this, but in my age bracket there is definitely growing suspicion and mistrust of clergy.

I went to Luther Seminary because I felt God was calling me to do so. Telling people this causes eyebrows to raise and evokes a series of questions which are either shared aloud or kept hidden and locked away. This is a natural thing to do because "calling" language is not normal - it is foreign and even a little weird. But this is exactly why I went. I was nudged by a force outside of me to enter into a period of discernment about my entering the ministry, and when I could no longer give myself a logical excuse to do anything else, I took a step towards theological education. This sort of obedience is no different for anyone else in any other career - we are all called to pursue that which excites and energizes us and if we're willing to listen and follow those Spirit nudges, there is nothing stopping us from reaching our potential.

I have come to view my time spent in theological education at Luther Seminary as a particular length of time in which I was called to dwell in God’s historical and biblical story and to explore how God has been at work through human beings in community throughout the ages. In a sense, it was like studying the Holy Spirit’s affects through both a rear-view mirror and a picture window. These two perspectives brought to light that theological education is less about acquiring artifacts and answers and more about teasing out the necessary insight, practical tools and strategies one needs to thrive as a public witness and leader of the church. I think the point of theological education is about cultivating wisdom, creativity, practical leadership skills, historical insight and passion for and around the word of God and God’s work through the church. In short, all of these areas have inspired and equipped me further in my pursuit of how to “know, love, and enjoy God as much as possible in this life now and forever in heaven.” (Augustine of Hippo)

When we face challenges like doing algebra or auto-mechanics (or driving stick), it is not just about acquiring answers as it is about wiring our brains in order to learn how to problem solve. In the same sense, this is how I view theological education. It’s not about uncovering specific meanings of passages or the answers to contradicting theories and challenges – but it’s about the process of becoming wise stewards to the faith of which we have been called. Theological education is less about solving mysteries and more about dwelling within them and wrestling with our questions. It is about cultivating and sharing wisdom through our context, both past and present as we participate actively in the life of the community to which we have been called.

I am really excited to take the wisdom I have gained during my time at Luther Seminary and in the various ministry contexts I've experienced over the course of my life and apply them as a Pastor at Big Bend Lutheran Church. I go not with a belief that I know all there is to know, but rather with the confidence and certainty that God goes with me and will continually send the Holy Spirit to accompany, guide and inspire my ministry and decision-making. There is no magic formula for success, only a desire to be faithful to that which I have been called to do. May you go and do likewise wherever you are called to be.

Graduating

I graduated from seminary and am now on my way to becoming a Pastor. This accomplishment feels great to be sure. But, as incredible it is to finish grad school and all, there is another graduation which has occurred that in some way feels slightly better: Two weeks ago, just after completing seminary, I also graduated from the school of manual transmission driving. In other words, I can check "learn to drive a stick shift" off my bucket list! I think I beamed to my family and friends more about this accomplishment than having just spent four years filling my brain with Bible knowledge, leadership practices, missional imagination and what someone means by eschatological hope.(In the end times we have nothing to fear because of what Jesus has done in his life, death and resurrection.)

I re-played the concept of driving stick over and over in my head after those initial lessons with Borna. Clutch. Brake. Gears. But it was in South Dakota with John and JoAnn that completed the circle of training. There I was given freedom to drive day after day in the open country roads, with little fear of hitting a parked car or rolling backwards down a hill at a stoplight. Sure I'm still in the beginner stages - I kill the engine, peel out, forget to put the clutch in when I start it up, etc. But I'm starting to really get the touch, and I've gotta say, I feel a little invincible. I suddenly have this incredible urge to go and test drive a Ferrari. Perhaps I'll just take these skills to the arcade and test them out on the video game version of sports cars or wait until I get into the rural places once again and borrow someone's beat up pickup truck. Either way, I can say with joy that I've learned the one skill that eluded me for a long time and made me feel so inadequate whenever someone would ask, "Who can drive a stick?" And I'd have to hang my head or sheepishly reply, "Um.. I'd rather not, I don't know how, I've only done it once..." Those days are behind me. I realize every car is a bit different of course, but I understand both the concept and have had time to "feather the clutch" and cultivate "the touch," thereby proving that with enough determination and curiosity, we can in fact re-wire our brains. 

This skill definitely would have proved useful during college when I was frequently a designated driver. This skill could have been better utilized in Europe when my Dad did all the driving on our Ireland vacation. But now... now when someone needs me to drive their car and asks, "Can you drive a stick shift?" I can say with confidence, "Yes I can!" So, I'd like to thank all who have let me watch their feet on the pedals over the years, including my Dad, my father-in-law John, my wife's Aunt JoAnn, Cody, and my good friend Borna for making this dream come true. Together with their patience, encouragement and instruction, I can hold my head high and boldly accept any car (or tractor) driving opportunities that come my way from now on.