Finally

This past Saturday, Learner took the "wretched" Bible Content exam for the fourth and final time (else he has to take the class).

Needed score: 105. Earned score: 113.

Finally.

Class starts on Thursday. More as I have it.

End-of-Summer Picnic

Once again, Learner found himself behind the grill at Friday's end-of-summer edition of the seminary picnic. Eye protection was a must because of the smoke, but I'd say he kind of overdid it here.

Aaron by George Herbert

Learner shared with me this beautiful poem by George Herbert, about a pastor's wrestling with his inadequacies and the call to the pastorate. The professor read it aloud - the only way to read poetry, Learner says - and apparently it was quite touching to the class.

Aaron
Holinesse on the head,
Light and perfections on the breast,
Harmonious bells below, raising the dead
To leade them unto life and rest.
Thus are true Aarons drest.

Profanenesse in my head,
Defects and darknesse in my breast,
A noise of passions ringing me for dead
Unto a place there is no rest.
Poore priest thus am I drest.

Onely another head
I have, another heart and breast,
Another musick, making live not dead,
Without whom I could have no rest:
In him I am well drest.

Christ is my onely head,
My alone onely heart and breast,
My onely musick, striking me ev'n dead;
That to the old man I may rest,
And be in him new drest.

So holy in my head,
Perfect and light in my deare breast,
My doctrine tun'd by Christ, (who is not dead,
But lives in me while I do rest)
Come people; Aaron's drest.

Isaiah 50

Good words this morning with regard to two different paths of living (and their outcomes), from one of Learner's favorites, Isaiah 50:

10 Who among you fears the Lord
and obeys the voice of his servant?
Let him who walks in darkness
and has no light
trust in the name of the Lord
and rely on his God.

11 Behold, all you who kindle a fire,
who equip yourselves with burning torches!
Walk by the light of your fire,
and by the torches that you have kindled!
This you have from my hand:
you shall lie down in torment.

Classical Calling

Learner just turned in the last of his Pastoral Theology book reflection papers. He says that Andrew Purves’ Pastoral Theology in the Classical Tradition was a needed read for the sake of his historical understanding of the call, role, and office of pastor.

Studying the lives of early church fathers like Gregory of Nazianzus, John Chrysostom, and Gregory the Great, as well as Reformer Martin Bucer and Puritan Richard Baxter, Purves paints in broad strokes the colors that most highlight the pastoral role’s more classical tradition. Most interesting to him was the theme of the importance of honest self-evaluation and accompanying action, as illustrated in this quote from Purves, quoting Gregory the Great:

“Gregory argues that to reject a call to ministry when one is well qualified and graced for the work is false humility. Thus the general axiom: ‘One who has not been cleansed, must not dare to undertake sacred ministries; and one who has been cleansed by supernal graces, must not proudly resist under the guise of humility’ (I.7,33). Typical of Gregorian antinomies, a false humility may hide a corresponding pride!” (66)

According to Learner, the irony of Purves’ book and those pastors he studies within it is that almost each one, at some point, purposely and aggressively (and sometimes even physically) fled God’s pastoral call on their lives. It became humorous (and humbling to him) to read of these men and their strong belief in one’s need to be clearly called by God to the pastorate as evidenced by their hesitancy to embrace such a call because of their own perceived inadequacy.

Learner's questions: how did they relinquish their fears and submit themselves to God and such a great call? And how did they justify this change in perspective to themselves, their friends, and those who they were to serve in this call? After all, it wasn’t that the terms of the call changed; rather, they did in considering it. What must this process have been like for each man?

For most of his life, Learner has written off the pastoral role as not being for him. This disregard has been due to his own less-than positive opinions of certain pastors from his past, as well as from certain others’ less-than affirming voices – not of him personally, but of the pastorate/church in general. As a result, he has not until now – a full year into his seminary experience – begun to seriously ask God if a pastoral call is his desire for him, as he came to seminary with a view to teach in academia, not to pastor.

Learner wonders about inquiring as to this call is what God would have him do? After all, with regard to a call to the pastorate, shouldn’t he simply just know, making the decision of “Will I or won’t I accept it?” the key question rather than “Am I or aren’t I called in the first place?” From his reading of Purves, both questions – only in reverse order – seemed in play in the lives of those studied: “Am I or aren’t I?” first; “Will I or won’t I?” second.

The scary part is that in asking the first question first (which he's beginning to do, and should have done before), the second question becomes scarier to consider…and answer. But then again, maybe that’s the point with regard to the seriousness of the pastoral call.

Summer Regrets, Accomplishments

After struggling with/suffering through Hebrew this summer (and only then to a point of auditing rather than passing), Learner is again refreshed by the breath of fresh air that is non-grammatical in nature, namely the Pastoral Theology intensive he started this morning. Learner so loves classes like this - one where verb forms and conjugations barely enter the fray - and he's looking forward to soaking up the next nine days of three-hour intensives of pure, unadulterated ideas, concepts, and applications.

While he didn't do so well in Hebrew, he did do well in plowing through the five books of required reading for the Pastoral Theology class, even getting three of the four reflection papers written ahead of time. This has allowed him time to really think through the content of the books and live with the material a bit going into the class, a fact he's glad for. Thought not suceeding in Hebrew is a big regret, faithfully getting the reading done for Pastoral Theology was an accomplishment of the summer.

Other regrets/accomplishments? Both words may be a little strong for the following lists, but the things that he says come to mind are:

Regrets

- Not exercising more and losing some weight (he makes it to the YMCA about once a week, but that doesn't do much)
- Not getting to know more people from church (he got to know a few better, but not a lot a little more)
- Not listening to new music more critically (it's been a long, long time since he's been able to do that)
- Not seeing Les Miserables when it came through town on its closing tour (though he did see Phantom)
- Not reading more fiction (for obvious reasons - see above)
- Not reading the Bible more consistently and devotionally (he's not sure why, but this is just not happening)

Accomplishments

- Making it an official year in the apartment as a family (without driving each other completely crazy)
- Trusting God for both a new job and car for the fall (and seeing God graciously provide both)
- Getting to know a few profs better (and being asked by two of them to serve as a teaching assistant)
- Teaching child #2 to ride a bike
- Continuing to deal actively with others as to his sin
- Beginning to understand and (sometimes) seeming to grow in grace and the gospel (with which he once felt bored)

He's still very glad and very content to be here and grateful to God for all that he's teaching him and all that's he's learning.

I'm glad as well - a year or so ago, I wasn't sure we'd still be here.