For most of the weekend, Learner says he has been thinking about whether or not he's praying enough (or as enough as he wants in order to feel that he has) for Mrs. Learner and their children.
Walking into church this morning, he picked up a bulletin with the normally-enclosed prayer postcard randomly addressed to a member of the fellowship. Opening the bulletin, Learner looked at the name and address on the card. It was his and Mrs. Learner's.
Message received, he says. No additional postage necessary.
Sunday, July 30, 2006
Friday, July 21, 2006
Ambiguity and the Pastoral Call
Learner just finished another book on the topic of pastoring: William H. Willimon’s Pastor: The Theology and Practice of Ordained Ministry, a book he says he sees himself re-reading almost annually if indeed he found himself following a call into the pastorate. This may be one of the more important, applicable books he reads in seminary.
Willimon, former professor and dean of students at Duke, speaks from both education and experience about a variety of topics related to the call to pastor – images/expectations of a twenty-first century pastor; the pastor as priest, interpreter of Scripture, preacher, counselor, teacher, evangelist, prophet, and leader; and (perhaps the most helpful section for Learner), the character and constancy of a pastor for effectiveness over the long haul. Willimon writes:
Willimon goes on to write, quoting a colleague who was a pastoral counselor for 15 years:
Conscientious (but not perfectionistic) ambiguity? Why, Learner wonders, would he want to subject himself to such insane demands? And why would God possibly call someone like him – an INTJ who loves closure almost as much as life itself – into the pastorate?
Actually, he's come a long way in his dealings with things ambiguous. Getting married and learning to live with someone who is not as consumed by these feelings helps; so does having children. In the past year, prescribed drugs have taken the edge off the perfectionism some, as has prayer and getting more to a point of recognizing that God really is the only one of us in control. It hasn’t been the smoothest or most pleasant of transitions, but it has been a transition – a change – and that’s important…and good.
While he supposes it’s always a temptation, he doesn't see himself struggling with being faithful to the work of the call – both his history and sense of responsibility work against laziness in that case. He says he does feel, however, that the tendency toward overworking and perfectionism might be his greater temptation, as well as the urge “to have an answer” and “figure out” God and what he may be doing in ambiguous situations in his life and in the lives of others.
By God’s grace, the key, Learner says, to dealing with any of this seems three-fold: 1) Recognize (repeatedly) his own limits in what he can and can’t do; 2) Learn and experience more in prayer how to trust God for what he can and can’t solve; and 3) Surround himself with others who will help him do numbers one and two faithfully and joyfully, a call almost as intimidating as the pastoral one.
Willimon, former professor and dean of students at Duke, speaks from both education and experience about a variety of topics related to the call to pastor – images/expectations of a twenty-first century pastor; the pastor as priest, interpreter of Scripture, preacher, counselor, teacher, evangelist, prophet, and leader; and (perhaps the most helpful section for Learner), the character and constancy of a pastor for effectiveness over the long haul. Willimon writes:
“Because of the ill-defined nature of the pastoral ministry, the work demands a high level of internal control…in conscientious persons this encourages a heightened sense of responsibility and can lead to an oppressive situation if the person is not only conscientious but also perfectionistic as well as unrealistic.” (317)
Willimon goes on to write, quoting a colleague who was a pastoral counselor for 15 years:
“The essential personality requisite for happiness in the pastoral ministry was a ‘high tolerance for ambiguity.’” (324)
Conscientious (but not perfectionistic) ambiguity? Why, Learner wonders, would he want to subject himself to such insane demands? And why would God possibly call someone like him – an INTJ who loves closure almost as much as life itself – into the pastorate?
Actually, he's come a long way in his dealings with things ambiguous. Getting married and learning to live with someone who is not as consumed by these feelings helps; so does having children. In the past year, prescribed drugs have taken the edge off the perfectionism some, as has prayer and getting more to a point of recognizing that God really is the only one of us in control. It hasn’t been the smoothest or most pleasant of transitions, but it has been a transition – a change – and that’s important…and good.
While he supposes it’s always a temptation, he doesn't see himself struggling with being faithful to the work of the call – both his history and sense of responsibility work against laziness in that case. He says he does feel, however, that the tendency toward overworking and perfectionism might be his greater temptation, as well as the urge “to have an answer” and “figure out” God and what he may be doing in ambiguous situations in his life and in the lives of others.
By God’s grace, the key, Learner says, to dealing with any of this seems three-fold: 1) Recognize (repeatedly) his own limits in what he can and can’t do; 2) Learn and experience more in prayer how to trust God for what he can and can’t solve; and 3) Surround himself with others who will help him do numbers one and two faithfully and joyfully, a call almost as intimidating as the pastoral one.
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
On Being "Old School"
Learner's making progress working through the reading list for his upcoming Pastoral Theology class in August. He just finished Derek Prime and Alistair Begg’s On Being a Pastor, a somewhat dated (1989) but generally helpful book on the firsthand practicalities of the role, office, and attitude of pastor. While the writing is a bit stiff (not to mention predictable in its repetitive chapter presentations of principle, supporting points, dual perspectives, and summary), Learner appreciated their hearts to share honestly about their pastoral journeys.
The chapters he found most interesting were those on the topics he finds myself most interested in: life and character; study; pastoral care; the responsibility to lead, etc. However, in the midst of these topics (in the preaching chapter – another he enjoyed), Derek Prime’s thought on training for ministry was particularly striking to him:
Learner says he resonates with Prime’s recommendation, both intellectually as well as experientially. Coming to seminary twelve years after college and after some wonderful hands-on ministry experience in a diverse set of people situations, he feels much more prepared and able to contextualize the deep teaching and theology he's now getting. While not true in every case, he does sense an advantage in being one of the “older” guys here, as the seasoning of having been in the trenches with people is very preparatory, much more so than can be taught in a classroom.
At the same time, a few disadvantages of his semi-late seminary start come to mind: lacking a well-developed ecclesiology; missing out on some earlier formal education to help categorize aspects of his theology (his friend/mentor, Paul, says that 90% of education is simply naming things, with which Learner says he agrees); and probably missing the window of pursuing doctoral work after seminary (which seems to be less and less a desire/option with each month, at least from a chronological, stage-of-life perspective).
Still, he says he's grateful for the time invested before seminary, during which he spent less time wrestling with the answers of life and instead took some time to recognizing life's questions. You can read about them in books, he says, but until you walk through the process of helping someone come up with and begin to wrestle with them, you’re just a theoretician and consultant, not a pastor (a role Learner is becoming more and more interested in long-term).
The chapters he found most interesting were those on the topics he finds myself most interested in: life and character; study; pastoral care; the responsibility to lead, etc. However, in the midst of these topics (in the preaching chapter – another he enjoyed), Derek Prime’s thought on training for ministry was particularly striking to him:
“One reason I would discourage a young man from training for the ministry straight from school or university is that he probably does not have that experience of life that will be so important in relating his ministry of God’s Word to men and women’s real life situations.” (128)
Learner says he resonates with Prime’s recommendation, both intellectually as well as experientially. Coming to seminary twelve years after college and after some wonderful hands-on ministry experience in a diverse set of people situations, he feels much more prepared and able to contextualize the deep teaching and theology he's now getting. While not true in every case, he does sense an advantage in being one of the “older” guys here, as the seasoning of having been in the trenches with people is very preparatory, much more so than can be taught in a classroom.
At the same time, a few disadvantages of his semi-late seminary start come to mind: lacking a well-developed ecclesiology; missing out on some earlier formal education to help categorize aspects of his theology (his friend/mentor, Paul, says that 90% of education is simply naming things, with which Learner says he agrees); and probably missing the window of pursuing doctoral work after seminary (which seems to be less and less a desire/option with each month, at least from a chronological, stage-of-life perspective).
Still, he says he's grateful for the time invested before seminary, during which he spent less time wrestling with the answers of life and instead took some time to recognizing life's questions. You can read about them in books, he says, but until you walk through the process of helping someone come up with and begin to wrestle with them, you’re just a theoretician and consultant, not a pastor (a role Learner is becoming more and more interested in long-term).
Friday, July 14, 2006
Friday Round-Up
Just a short post as to pseudo-monumental events of the past week:
Learner continues to improve his score on the third version of the seminary's mandatory Bible content exam, this time missing the pass mark by only two points (103 out of 150 - the required pass mark is 105). He has one last chance next month to pass the exam before having to sign up for the year-long course, so he's hopeful (though he feels like he missed his best chance so far, as this version of the exam seemed the easiest of the three).
After Hebrew on Monday night, Learner participated in his friend Rob's sometimes-monthly poker tournament. Such an appearance is not all that significant, save for the fact that Learner actually drank an entire bottle of beer (his first in its entirety, ever). This, despite playing lousy poker for 4-5 hands, seemed to redeem the evening (albeit, in a junior high kind of way, Learner said), and he has encouraged Rob to keep the empty bottle on a shelf with a plaque underneath to commemorate the accomplishment.
It's the little things that motivate him these days, he says.
Learner continues to improve his score on the third version of the seminary's mandatory Bible content exam, this time missing the pass mark by only two points (103 out of 150 - the required pass mark is 105). He has one last chance next month to pass the exam before having to sign up for the year-long course, so he's hopeful (though he feels like he missed his best chance so far, as this version of the exam seemed the easiest of the three).
After Hebrew on Monday night, Learner participated in his friend Rob's sometimes-monthly poker tournament. Such an appearance is not all that significant, save for the fact that Learner actually drank an entire bottle of beer (his first in its entirety, ever). This, despite playing lousy poker for 4-5 hands, seemed to redeem the evening (albeit, in a junior high kind of way, Learner said), and he has encouraged Rob to keep the empty bottle on a shelf with a plaque underneath to commemorate the accomplishment.
It's the little things that motivate him these days, he says.
Monday, July 10, 2006
Dear Giving Friends
It's a new day.
To illustrate, here's an email Learner just sent out to those friends and family who have financially supported him and Mrs. Learner through their first year of seminary. (Whether or not it was really necessary to email his supporters he says he'll never know, but he did say it eased his conscience a bit in sending it, so he's glad he did.)
Anyway, the letter:
Hebrew tonight (sans quiz). Learner's actually looking forward to it.
To illustrate, here's an email Learner just sent out to those friends and family who have financially supported him and Mrs. Learner through their first year of seminary. (Whether or not it was really necessary to email his supporters he says he'll never know, but he did say it eased his conscience a bit in sending it, so he's glad he did.)
Anyway, the letter:
Dear Giving Friends,
Gather 'round for the story of a boy still learning about his own limitations. It's hardly tragic (actually, it's more comedic if you think about it, though it didn't seem so a few days ago). Regardless, it goes something like this:
Once upon a time, there was a boy named Learner. After a successful academic first year at semninary, Learner enrolled in Hebrew class for the summer. Having conquered (okay, "survived") Greek, how hard could Hebrew be, really?
Well, he just found out. After going strong through the first three weeks, Learner somehow failed the first exam (as well as the three subsequent quizzes afterward). As a result of this unfortunate turn of events, the boy's fairy tale of breezing through Hebrew this summer is, well, still a fairy tale (though, as in the best fairy tales), not all is lost. There is hope.
Thankfully, the seminary was most gracious in allowing Learner to audit the class the rest of the summer and reenroll in the fall - all at no extra charge. Gone is the weeping and gnashing of teeth of last week (thought not the vocab cards, as the plan is to stay up with the rest of the class on those through the summer). Who says there are no more happy endings?
Okay, story time's over. And now a word to our sponsors...
While it's disappointing (and embarrassing), Mrs. Learner and I felt it important to let you, our donors, know of this little development/hitch-in-our-git-a-long this summer. Despite honest effort, a good professor, and a fair understanding of what was going on in class, I've had a rough time regurgitating on paper what I've been learning. As a result, I've had to switch my class status to "audit," continuing to attend class and study this summer and retake it for credit in the fall.
If you know me well at all, you know this has been a little hard for me to swallow, largely because of an overblown sense of self-sufficiency and a history that, by God's grace, has tended to be more filled with success than failure. But I'm learning that I have limits, and Hebrew has helped in making the case. The irony, of course, is that two weeks before having to pull out of the class, I taught a two-week Sunday School series called "Learning About Limits." While the series went well and was helpful to many, it seems I still have a few more things to learn personally about coming to grips with my own limitations. And that's humbling.
One good thing that's come out of this is that I think I've figured out one of my spiritual gifts is definitely not tongues. I had my suspicions with Greek, but I'd say Hebrew has confirmed this for me. And that's good to know - a positive thing.
Rest assured, there's still plenty God is doing that we're giving ourselves to here. In fact, my Pastoral Theology class (a 12-day intensive) starts three weeks from today, for which I have to finish reading five books (writing reflection papers on each), and begin writing a ten-page paper on "whatever aspect of your understanding, personality or character you consider might be most problematic for a diligent and faithful ministry."
Hmmm. It would seem my experience with Hebrew might make for a good opening illustration of what I think I'll be writing on, namely, the idealism of my own self-sufficiency and dependence instead of on the gospel and person of Jesus.
In John 3:30, John the Baptist says, "He must become greater, I must become less." If you pray, pray that this truth would continue to become more and more a reality in my life. I'm guessing that this - and not whether I can parse a Hebrew verb - is really what this lesson and experience with Hebrew this summer is about.
Sorry to take up your time with this long email, but we felt it important to write and send because of your commitment to and involvement with us and our ministry here. We now return you to your regularly scheduled life.
Shalom,
Learner (for Mrs. Learner)
Hebrew tonight (sans quiz). Learner's actually looking forward to it.
Thursday, July 06, 2006
Evening Story Time
It's been a very strange week for Learner; "interesting" and "confusing" are probably even more apt adjectives. I'm not at liberty to go into too much detail, but the one thing I can share is that Learner is probably going to have to switch to auditing Hebrew the rest of the summer and take it again in the fall. After flunking the first exam and three additional quizzes, his grades are simply too low and his understanding/regurgitation of what he's learning too minimal to be able to legitimately continue.
Thankfully, he doesn't seem all that angry or frustrated by any of this, but he does say he is perplexed. As he told me this evening: "More than ever, all I want to do is ministry, and yet all that is keeping me from doing that are ministry's hoops." (Getting this M.Div. degree, you'll recall, is the reason he's here, and yet it is also why he can't do anything else - at least within the context of Christian education and church ministry, the areas to which he feels called).
He wonders what would have happened had he gotten his degree ten years earlier, but I reminded him of all the tremendous practical experience he accumulated during those years. I feel for him as his situation seems such a Catch-22 right now - he wants nothing more than to do the work of the Lord as a vocation, and yet the one thing that keeps getting in his way of pastoring, teaching, writing, etc. is all his preparation and training to be able to do so.
Learner says it's not so hard to see why so many these days skip this formal stage of preparation and either start their own church (and often in doing so, their own "denominations"), but he still belives such training is needed in his own life and ministry. He's trying hard to swallow his pride and follow God on this new and different path toward the goal, trusting that all will eventually fit together. He says he believes it will ("Really," he says), but it's hard to know how exactly or easily this will happen at this point and place in time.
As I was leaving, I mentioned to Learner that ten years from now this would all make for a fun story. Though I was expecting some kind of snide remark, somewhat un-Learner-like, he agreed, clarifying that he hoped it would be more of God's story than his own...and that, indeed, he hoped it would be a good one in the end.
Seemed a good bit of "shalom" (that's Hebrew for "peace") to me, but if you pray, do keep him in mind this weekend. He's discouraged.
Thankfully, he doesn't seem all that angry or frustrated by any of this, but he does say he is perplexed. As he told me this evening: "More than ever, all I want to do is ministry, and yet all that is keeping me from doing that are ministry's hoops." (Getting this M.Div. degree, you'll recall, is the reason he's here, and yet it is also why he can't do anything else - at least within the context of Christian education and church ministry, the areas to which he feels called).
He wonders what would have happened had he gotten his degree ten years earlier, but I reminded him of all the tremendous practical experience he accumulated during those years. I feel for him as his situation seems such a Catch-22 right now - he wants nothing more than to do the work of the Lord as a vocation, and yet the one thing that keeps getting in his way of pastoring, teaching, writing, etc. is all his preparation and training to be able to do so.
Learner says it's not so hard to see why so many these days skip this formal stage of preparation and either start their own church (and often in doing so, their own "denominations"), but he still belives such training is needed in his own life and ministry. He's trying hard to swallow his pride and follow God on this new and different path toward the goal, trusting that all will eventually fit together. He says he believes it will ("Really," he says), but it's hard to know how exactly or easily this will happen at this point and place in time.
As I was leaving, I mentioned to Learner that ten years from now this would all make for a fun story. Though I was expecting some kind of snide remark, somewhat un-Learner-like, he agreed, clarifying that he hoped it would be more of God's story than his own...and that, indeed, he hoped it would be a good one in the end.
Seemed a good bit of "shalom" (that's Hebrew for "peace") to me, but if you pray, do keep him in mind this weekend. He's discouraged.
Of Frisbee Golf and Grace
For the fifth time in five days, Learner has just seen the same five male students playing Frisbee Golf across the small seminary campus. Learner says he can't help wondering 1) what they're taking a break from; 2) if they're taking a break from anything; and 3) if they're not taking a break from anything, how can they justify to themselves playing Frisbee Golf FIVE DAYS IN A ROW! (Learner's emphasis added)
Perhaps Learner's struggles are just leftover residue from the works-based streak he has been trying to rid himself of for the past twenty years. He says, however, that Frisbee Golf is not what he had in mind as being God's means of grace to him and his condition.
Perhaps Learner's struggles are just leftover residue from the works-based streak he has been trying to rid himself of for the past twenty years. He says, however, that Frisbee Golf is not what he had in mind as being God's means of grace to him and his condition.
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