His Own Best Friend

Learner and his family have been rather extroverted this weekend: a seminary ice cream social on Friday night, a 24-hour visit on Saturday from Learner's father (for grandchildren and tourism purposes), and church on Sunday morning (with spur-of-the-moment lunch invitation from another family and a planned dinner with Albert and his clan - both meals very enjoyable), and that's that. Weekend over.

All-out extroversion is rare for Learner. Make no mistake, he's good with people, but easily exhausted by them as well. Much of this comes from his temperament (not a hint of sanguine in him); other parts come from a healthy degree of selfishness and a propensity to be by himself whenever possible (Mrs. Learner swears he's his own best friend because he likes to be alone so much).

After getting his kids in bed (though not yet asleep), Learner made the comment that he might have overdosed this weekend with the wee ones. A statement like this never goes over well with Mrs. Learner, but after a week full of half days in the morning and a weekend of 24/7 presence, he says the library's looking pretty good.

One highlight of the weekend: Learner taught his oldest to ride a bike, an experience that he says was both wonderful and anticlimactic at the same time. Wonderful in that his desire to turn it into a teachable moment of trust (i.e. his oldest trusting him in the process) was fulfilled; anticlimactic in that the whole thing only took about 20 minutes or so and, while he's glad for the short length, he wonders if anybody could have done it just as easily as he did.

By his own self-inflicted, semi-ridiculous thinking, the guy can't win.

The Learner Equation: C=MDiv

Learner just got his Greek grammar exam back.

70%. A nice round number, he says.

Mouth Wide Shut

From Learner's reading tonight - 1 Corinthians 1:26-29 (ESV):

"For consider your calling, brothers: not many of you were wise according to worldly standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth.

But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God.

He is the source of your life in Christ Jesus, whom God made our wisdom and our righteousness and sanctification and redemption. Therefore, as it is written, 'Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord.'"

Very much what Learner needed to read/hear this evening, as he is surrounded by people who are seemingly and consistently at least ten times smarter than he is. It's humbling, he says.

The good news is that he's grown enough in the past ten years to not open his mouth and pretend he can keep up; the other news is that he's not sure he could even if he tried.

Living with the Messiness of the Bible

You'll pardon me for yet another entry concerning Learner's Greek class, but it is, after all, what has consumed his summer thus far. Last night was his grammar final exam and, he says, it was a doozy. He thinks he may have passed it, but that's as far as he'll hope.

As has been typical all summer, after the exam and a drink break (not the kind Learner could have used at the time, but it was liquid at least), there was still an hour of lecture left of the three-hour class period. Learner's professor - a gracious man whose stated grading goal is to give Learner and his classmates points whenever possible rather than take them away - began a discussion on more complicated Greek syntax with a brief historical analysis of 1 John.

Concepts. Ideas. History. Controversy. Perspective. Truth. Finally.

The highlight for Learner (and, it seemed, for the rest of the class), was a brief discussion on the translation of 1 John 2:2, which says (according to Learner's own translation):

"And he (Christ) is the propitiation for our own sins, and not only for our sins, but also for the whole world."

"For the Calvinists in the room," the professor said, "you need to wrestle with this." There was a slight murmur among the Calvinists which, at this seminary, is just about everybody. Then the professor, disclosing his own Calvinist alignment, gave this passionate admonition: "You must learn to live with the messiness of the Bible. Our theological systems are maps; the Bible is the actual ground."

The room was silent, that is until Learner, feeling a desire to respond out of gratitude for the professor's words, simply said, "Thank you."

Last night, Learner dreamt about living with the messiness of the Bible. He says it was good but fitful sleep, which seems about right.

Mrs. Learner Goes to School

Today marks the first day of Mrs. Learner's academic exploits, as she starts an intensive month-long, two-and-a-half-hour a day, five-day a week class on ancient and medieval church history. As she did for him seven weeks ago, Learner took her picture this morning before she headed off, a new student for the first time in roughly ten years.

It was a moment...sort of.

Some might think the two of them insane to try this - that is, earning two full degrees (Learner's four-year Masters of Divinity; Mrs. Learner's two-year Master of Arts and Theological Studies spread over four years to give her a fighting chance) while raising a family of four children six and under stuffed into a three-bedroom apartment.

Perhaps they are (insane, that is), but the fact that the seminary offers a full-ride spouse scholarship is something Learner and his wife have determined they at least need to try to take advantage of; if it doesn't work for their family (and especially for their children's own education, the homeschooling of which rests largely on Mrs. Learner), they'll let it go and readjust.

Still, Learner thinks, how well-used this time would be if he and his wife came away earning two degrees for the price of one? Even if it did not make much long-term difference in terms of ministry path or opportunity (though how could it not?), at least they'll have been good stewards of their minds during this unique time at seminary.

The Lord's Prayer (a la Yoda)

Recalling The Rule of Yoda, here's Learner's ultra-literal translation of The Lord's Prayer in Matthew 6:9-13 (ESV):

"Thus, therefore you pray:

Our father who art in heaven
Hallowed be your name
Come the kingdom of yours
Be done your will
as in heaven and on earth

Our bread that is daily this day to us give
And forgive us our debts as also we forgive our debtors
And lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil"

Wooden his translation is. Still, progress he feels he makes.

Greek Comedy

Last week, I audited Learner's 3-hour Greek class, and did so again this evening. As you might imagine, my Greek is fairly up-to-date (having lived in a culture that speaks the langugage always helps), so my reason for going was different from Learner's. He goes because his course of study requires it; I go for the entertainment.

Lest you think I'm speaking in some strange middle voice (which, of course, Greek has), let me clarify: the entertainment has little to do with the language, but rather with those who are trying to learn it. The suspects are hardly usual (names changed to protect the guilty):

• Cig - a skinny guy who spends his mid-class break outside lighting up for a smoke (it will be interesting to see which church signs him up to be their youth pastor)
• Buzz - a guy who, without exception, has worn a different rock concert T-shirt to each and every different class meeting (and who has a DVD collection that rivals Blockbuster)
  
• Lars - a big guy who mysteriously shows up early for class, leaves his stuff at his seat, exits, and then consistently re-enters 10-15 minutes after the class has started (all this while getting the highest grade in the class)
  
• Brock and Little R - two aforementioned acquaintances, both of whom are super-smart and doing super-well in the class (though they consistently deny this fact to Learner, probably to keep him from feeling badly)
  
• Albert - Learner's study buddy and all around great guy who happens to be breezing through Greek, due largely to his insane 4:30 a.m. study habits (as well the fact that he learns best by teaching others, and Learner needs a lot of teaching)
  

And then there's Learner. The poor guy is struggling, but it's not just with grades; it's with his motivation. After tonight's quiz, he's probably pulling a C in the class, but all that could drastically change for the worse with the upcoming exam on Monday over the entire 30 chapters of the Greek grammar they've been using. His goal is to pass it, nothing more, as his aspirations aren't that high right now.

I suppose what's most interesting to me about Learner and his mates is that, with their baseball caps and scruffy shaves, it's hard to imagine ANY of these young men as pastors of a church. Granted, that's what seminary is for, but it seems they - Learner especially - have a ways to go before becoming shepherds of any flock.

Never What It Could Be

Picking the hottest, most humid day of the summer to move, Learner and his family made it into their own apartment this past weekend.

Just as he did when they subleased for the past six weeks ago, Learner says he idealistically envisions this new place as a sanctuary and base camp for great thoughts and actions to come. He says he pictures himself rising early to meet with God; he sees his offspring eating and playing and growing up into godly children; he imagines Mrs. Learner growing in her studies (which start on Monday) as well.

All this idealism is in the front of his mind, he says, and yet he fears reality sucking him back into life as "normal," which tends to be equated with "average" in Learner's mind (and Learner doesn't do "average" all that well, at least not for an extended period of time).

During the move, Learner's friend (I'll call him The Renaissance Man, as he knows a little about a lot of things) made a rather brilliant observation about him. That afternoon, in the midst of the heaviest rain of the summer, when Learner begin moaning about how "nothing can be simple" (a mantra he lives and swears by), The Renaissance Man made the comment that "it is what it is." Learner shot back some melancholic remark, to which The Renaissance Man (an optimist) said, "For me, it is what it is. For you, it's never what it could be."

Busted. The Renaissance Man nailed him. And Learner knew it.

In the time since, Learner has thought of The Renaissance Man's statement as both a compliment and a curse. Sure, he has high standards, but he also has issues that come with those standards, and he's not sure if/how he's to change on this front. For now, he's just glad for friends who know and love him in the midst of his person and situation. Complicated as both can get, I suppose I'm one of those.

Found in Translation

Learner just translated the first chapter of 1 John.

The key to translating Greek, he says, is to think like Yoda talks.

Suddenly new this day has become.

Weariness

Learner is dragging this week, physically and mentally exhausted from studying Greek, preparing to move into a new apartment, and not sleeping well. He says he feels he's been hit by a truck. I don't know for sure, but I can't imagine that would feel all that great.

Ecclesiastes 12:11 comes to mind: "Of making many books there is no end, and much study wearies the body." Believe it or not (and according to Solomon), physical weariness can come from intellectual exercise. Learner feels like the poster child for this verse right now.

O For a Closer Walk with God

Sung at the church Learner and his family attended this morning (and the one they will probably become members of soon):

O for a closer walk with God, a calm and heavn'ly frame
A light to shine upon the road that leads me to the Lamb!
Where is the blessedness I knew when first I saw the Lord?
Where is the soul-refreshing view of Jesus and his Word?

What peaceful hours I once enjoyed! How sweet their memory still!
But they have left an aching void the world can never fill
Return, O holy Dove, return, sweet messenger of grace!
I hate the sins that made thee mourn and drove thee from my breast

The dearest idol I have known - whate'er that idol be
Help me to tear it from they throne and worship only thee
So shall my walk be close with God, calm and serene my frame
So purer light shall mark the road that leads me to the Lamb

- William Cowper, 1772

With a wink, Learner mentioned that God seemed more exciting than Reformed this morning. It did my heart good to hear him say this.

When God Seemed More Exciting than Reformed

Over the past five years, Learner has verbally and literarily ascribed to more of a Reformed perspective when it comes to big issues and looming questions involving sovereignty, justification, and sanctification (as well as the rest of life). And yet in the past 6-8 months, he says he has wondered if any of it really matters, as he's not sure his Reformed theology is really helping all that much.

It's not that Learner has fallen off the faith wagon. Not at all. But he does say that he wonders if his four-and-a-half-point Calvinism (really five-point in mind but not always in heart, he says) is helping him walk any closer to and with God. Some of his dissatisfaction, he says, goes back to the whole fatalism mentality that he always struggles with theologically and emotionally - if it's all planned out anyway, then who really cares (or should)?

Some of it is his own suspicion that, despite his love and desire for total and complete order and answers to all the questions, the Reformed system of theology (along with any and every other system of theology) is nothing but man's attempt at understanding an un-understandable God. And that seems rather futile (and therefore, in keeping with the aforementioned theme, fatal).

Of all the theological systems, the Reformed perspective seems to make the most sense to Learner logically and theologically (and it certainly has some great men and minds on its side historically and apologetically). But, if it's the best, it doesn't seem to be doing much for his sense of relationship with Jesus, and this bothers him. If the theology (and the God of that theology) is so great, why no greater sense of worship, of desire, of love for it (and for him)?

Maybe it's his semi-whitetrash background, his childhood of growing up in dispensational Methodism, or his early conversion and borderline charismatic exposure at the camp where he came to Christ - he doesn't know. He does know that he sure seemed and felt closer to God back then than he does now as an experienced Christian worker pursuing a Masters of Divinity at a conservative Reformed seminary.

Whatever became of the times when he would stand in his father's bean fields, longing for the winds to whip across the plains as a memory and (seemingly) a message of God's presence? Where, he wonders, has the confidence and courage to pray expectantly and in faith for people, for healing, for plans, and even for rain, gone? If God is sovereign, why does he not "lead" Learner to pray (and then answer) those prayers which used to give him such bold faith? If God is sovereign, why does Learner need to pray for any of that at all?

Sure, he says, they're all the same old questions, but he's not the same young Learner he used to be. He wants to grow to know - to really know - God as a person and not just as a personality; to love Jesus's teachings and not just try to live by them; to walk by the Spirit because the Spirit is noticeably walking next to him. Is that too much, he questions, to ask of a sovereign God? Can God accomodate these request as part of his already-laid-out plans? Or were they ever part of the plan at all? And if not, why not? And if so, what gives?

Learner says he longs for the days when God seemed more exciting than Reformed. He doesn't think the two are mutually exclusive, but he says he feels (and fears) more and more that they might be.

And he doesn't necessarily like it.

The Search for Church

Though it's mid-week, Learner and his wife have Church-on-the-Brain Syndrome these days as they continue to try to find one here. Of course, it's not that they haven't found one; it's that they have found more than one (actually, many more than one); thus, the problem.

What is so difficult about finding a church? For starters, Learner says, it may be the vernacular used in describing the process: "finding" a church makes the activity seem so much more elusive and mysterious than it probably needs to be, and this plays to the "grass will perpetually be greener" mentality Learner already struggles with. He prefers to think in terms of "identifying" a church, which takes away some of the pressure of visiting so many in hopes of not missing the absolute right one (which he is sure he would never "find" anyway).

Another complicating factor, Learner says, is the fact that churches are more different from one another than they are alike these days. This was not the case 100 years ago, when the amount of variation was minimal in terms of church building design, worship service direction, and even pastoral personality in the pulpit. Back then, church just was; today, however, every aspect of church is an element for variation and branding. This drives Learner crazy.

What else has been difficult? Considering the children always seems to muck things up a bit, not because it isn't a necessary consideration, but because Learner and his wife tend to evaluate it so differently. From Learner's perspective, that no child dies or gets pregnant, but merely learns a song or two as well as a short story from the Bible is about the extent of his expectation for children's Sunday School.

For Mrs. Learner, however, there are higher expectations, namely all of the above being in place, as well as a stimulating craft, an engaging time of interaction, healthy snacks, timely diaper changes, a sense that each child is loved and looked out for on an individual basis, and absolutely NO cartoon animation featuring certain vegetables who sing and dance. It's not that Learner disagrees with any of this; it's just that the process and degree of evaluating it all each and every Sunday can be rather redundant.

Couple this with the quest for sound doctrine, authentic worship, and some semblance of community (another topic on which Learner and his wife have varying degrees of opinion as to need/want), and it's a veritable coin-toss as to where and when the search for church might end. In a city the size of this one, the family could realistically attend a different church each and every weekend for the entire course of time they are in seminary. But this is not the goal, and this is not the plan. With a few more churches on their list to visit, Learner and his family hope to make a decision by the end of summer at the very latest, plug in, and never look back...for now, at least.

Retreat

For the Fourth of July holiday, Learner and his family are heading out of town to his family's farm 100 miles north of here. The children are looking forward to time with their grandparents; Learner is looking forward to time not being at seminary.

But it's not just a retreat from the seminary that Learner is anticipating (after all, his next Greek exam is Thursday, and he will be taking his studies with him). Rather, he is looking forward to getting away from the city, from the busy interstates always filled with traffic that criss-cross and roar right next door to this place.

While Learner has never been all that much of a farm boy, he certainly has the mentality of one much more so than a city boy. Things in the country just make more sense to Learner: the idea of seeing and knowing people more than just randomly; the responsibility of being a good neighbor; the sense of respect and connection with the land; and the quiet - oh, the quiet, he says - that comes with living on gravel roads and not gritty highways.

This will be Learner's first trip back to the farm since he and the family left it to come here a month or so ago. It will be interesting to see if it "feels" different returning as a student again like he was when he came home periodically from college. Of course, with family in tow, it will definitely be logistically different from those days, but he imagines some of the same feelings will be present.

Retreat. There's nothing like it, he says, and he's asked me to come along with the family to experience it. I'm honored to be invited.

Fear and Destiny

With regard to the whole seminary idea, Learner has two main fears:

1) “Believing his own press” and overestimating his academic faculties that he's really cut out for this. He so longs to learn and grow, to write and teach, but he does wonder sometimes if he just has hermeneutic or homiletic limits (among others) that he will never be able to exceed.

He's experienced some of this before in other areas – sports, music - in which no matter how hard he practiced or how long or passionately he gave himself, he hit his plateau and there he stayed. Being around some of the folks here, he wonders if that will be the truth academically. He's always felt much more “street smart” than “book smart,” but there doesn’t seem to be much place for “street smart” in a world of grades and degrees and programs.

2) Not having the courage to, if it’s all wrong, recognize that what he had at one time thought would be a good fit really isn’t. Then, instead of gutting it out for the sake of pride, convenience, or a healthy dose of penance, actually decide it wasn’t the right move after all and go in a different direction without feeling totally defeated and discouraged.

While he's not at that point of moving yet by any means, the main reason probably has more to do with thinking about his wife, his family, and what others would say rather than any felt desire to persevere and gut it out for the sake of Greek (and the Mdiv). Oh, and the fact that he has no other idea what he would, could, or should do – that’s probably another big reason.

One thing Learner is reconsidering is the idea of doctoral work (Craw just told him tonight that there’s a glut of people with doctorate degrees out there right now anyway, so it’s not like the world needs anymore). The question he's trying to ask now is not "should he or shouldn’t he," but rather "does what he want to do require it or not?" He's trying to get time with certain profs here he's heard can help in answering that question, but he says he wishes he were more confident in what he knew God wanted of him.

It’s weird, Learner says: he had such a strong sense of rightness about making the move to seminary (and he still does not regret at all having done any of that). He wonders, however, if the path through seminary might be shorter or different than he had originally planned? Of course, there’s some pride there, particularly when he thinks of having to justify his existence to his donors as to why they should still support Learner and his family, but he'll still send out the donor newsletter he's been working on all week.

Ever since he was a kid, and especially since he came to Christ at the age of 14, Learner says he has always had a huge sense of destiny on his life. His hope here is that this destiny isn’t a destiny to fail.

The Sound of Music

In moving to seminary, Learner and his family gave up quite a lot. While hardly complete, an initial list might go something like this:

• life in an attractive city with beauty right in the backyard
• a home in a great neighborhood
• an involved and influential role in a respected ministry
• twelve years worth of good friends
• a good church
• familiarity
• memories

Before moving, Learner had prepared to deal with the loss of most of these and, for the most part, has felt their loss more indirectly than directly as he's been so focused on his studies. But there's been one loss he's experienced more directly that he had neither anticipated nor planned for. That loss was the sound of music.

You see, due to a delay in the housing situation, Learner and his family have two more weeks of a six-week sublease to fulfill before they can move into their own apartment. By themselves, six weeks wouldn't have seemed that awful, save for the fact that the delay came on the heels of eight weeks spent at Learner's family's farm.

Thus, when they finally move in, it will have been over three months he and the family have not been in their own place and missing a majority of their things, music being one of them. Granted, Learner and his wife have hundreds of songs stored on their respective computers, but they have lacked speakers through which to share any of them together, which has always been important to the family.

If anyone has listened to music, it has been through headphones (too exclusive) or on computer speakers (too tinny). Thus, van trips are more enjoyable for the simple pleasure of being able to play songs at a decent volume so all may interact with them. Unfortunately, because they live on campus, they haven't had need to go anywhere.

As mentioned, Learner didn't think this unintentional fast from music would be that big of a big deal (or any kind of deal, period). However, being without music and a means to share it with others in the midst of transition has reinforced the thought that, when they move again, stereo and speakers get packed separately (if at all).

Influence (or Lack Thereof)

True to form (and very much like the stock market), Learner is the self-correcting type, as the optimistic thinking documented in the previous post yesterday has turned into a bit of a pessimistic funk today. It seems this morning that the hope of his idealism to bring about world change has once again met head-on with his inability to do so in any practical way, shape, form, or timely manner.

Frankly (and as a result), he's not been all that fun to be around.

Part of his struggle, I think, has much to do with what he's been reading: Bono in Conversation with Michka Assaya. Two-thirds of the way through the book, Learner expressed his envy of Bono's brilliance, eloquence, and platform earned/given as voice of the world's biggest band and spokeman for D.A.T.A. (Debt, AIDS, Trade, Africa). Nice work if you can get it, Learner says.

While he doesn't think it's fame that motivates him, Learner says he's not sure about that, either. After all, when you have dreams of influencing millions of people, it's hard not to think of celebrity as a means to that end. Of course, those who are celebrities always try to play it off that they are not. Bono does precisely this in the book:

Assayas: "So you don't see yourself as a celebrity, then."

Bono: "No, I'm not a celebrity."

Assayas: "Who the hell are you, then?"

Bono: "I'm a scribbling, cigar-smoking, wine-drinking, Bible-reading band man. A show-off [laughs]...who loves to paint pictures of what I can't see. A husband, father, friend of the poor, and sometimes the rich. An activist traveling salesman of ideas. Chess player, part-time rock star, opera singer, in the loudest folk group in the world."

When thinking about celebrity, Learner does not contemplate the vices that often accompany being well-known; in his idealism, he always and only imagines the good that could come from such a given platform. This vice-less dreaming is due to a degree of naivete (not to mention the fact that he doubts he'll ever have to worry about it).

So, this morning, he is going to church to blend in and try to let go of his delusions of grandeur at the altar of a local assembly, to try not to lose anymore of the momentum in his studies pining to God about lack of brilliance, eloquence, and platform.

Faith, Learner says, is a long, dusty road to a place of influence. Celebrity, he says, seems a shorter, more appealing route.

Solving the Problems of the World

Along with "Brock," "Little R" and "Mrs. Little R," Learner invited me over for dinner last night. Mrs. Learner (whom I will write much about soon, as she is a woman worth writing much about) prepared a tasty meal, and the evening was pleasant in a way people eating together for the first (but presumably not the last) time can be.

Brock and Little R are in Learner's Greek class and, according to Learner, doing quite well (both got 100+ scores on the aforementioned Greek exam; Learner only pulled out an 88). While conversation initially touched on Greek studies, it soon transcended prepositions and perfect verb forms as Learner, Brock, and Little R engaged in a good hour's worth of conversation around the question of what THE moral issue of the day might be, who seems to be on what side of it and why, and what might be done about it and how.

As one intriqued by their ideas (as well as who once spent a good amount of time around Paul, a master debater), I must say it was a rather spirited conversation. Brock was sure the defining issue was abortion, which one could certainly make a case for considering the millions of helpless babies killed since 1973. Little R didn't so much name a particular issue, but talked of how political viewpoint affected the church and people's moral compass. Again, a valid observation and contender for the title of "issue of the day."

Learner, just trying to keep up with his younger (by 10 and 7 seven years, respectively) dinner guests, posited that the defining issue of the day was not abortion or the political spectrum, but a leaving out of the full scope of issues in the name of the one (i.e. conservatives being "pro-life," but in denial about poverty and health care; liberals protecting "inalienable rights" at any cost, but in denial as to where those "rights" actually came from or might go if left unchecked).

As a listening bysitter, I was impressed by the tone and direction of the discussion, as well as the hearts of concern that emerged as a result. Granted, these were three young, semi-idealistic men whose convictions far outweighed their experiences when it came to things like governmental policy. But their understanding and analysis of what the real issues are (instead of what the political parties say they are) came out of a wisdom far beyond their years and for which none took credit, but instead pointed to the Scriptures as their rationale.

Yet, while they may have had the weight of moral authority on their side, the humility with which they swung that particular sword was somewhat inspiring. This conversation was not about who was right but about what was right, a discussion rarely entered into these days (at least cordially) among believers.

As a result, I think Brock, Little R, and Learner felt the same tinges of inspiration I did last night, namely that as long as we can talk earnestly and graciously about issues with a listening ear to what the Gospel says, there's hope we might actually resolve some of them.

Ministry While in Seminary? (Gasp)

A few weeks ago, when Learner was just getting started in his studies, he received this email from a previous acquaintance:

"I barely know you, yet you're the ONLY Christian I know in your area. So, I'm writing in hopes that you can help. A friend of ours moved there last fall to attend chiropractic college. He is not a believer, but IS a seeker, coming out of a Mormon/Catholic background. When he lived here, he would attend church with us and really liked it. He wants to get plugged into a church there but doesn't have the first clue where to start. Neither do I. In your time there, have you found a church or two that I might suggest to him? I so appreciate any help you can offer. Hope you're adjusting well to seminary."

Wanting to help, Learner responded that he knew of several good churches and was happy to recommend them. Better yet, he replied, he was glad to invite the friend to go to church (though Learner and his family - more on them soon - had only been here for a week). His guess was that it would be better for the friend to make a connection personally before wandering through a slew of churches when he wasn't even a believer yet. He might need someone to walk along with him, process, ask and answer questions, and be a friend.

A week later, another email from the initial contact:

"He responded quickly - and positively! - to the possibility of hearing from you, being invited to church, talking about spiritual things, etc. He is completely open and I think looking forward to hearing from you. Thanks again. Whatever the outcome with him, I've already been immensely encouraged by your heart to reach out."

So now it's up to Learner to follow through. And while part of him has high hopes for the opportunity of ministering in some way to this "seeker," part of him is skeptical that anything might come of it (remember how I mentioned he holds his idealism in tension with his realism, rarely letting one get the better of the other?). Well...

I'll let you know how it goes.

Learner's Second Home: The Library

I must confess I am impressed with what the concept of "library" has come to mean since my day; what is in existence now compared to what we had centuries ago is rather extraordinary. And, since Learner is spending most of today in the seminary's library studying, I thought it appropriate to make note of his surroundings and a few of his reflections on them.

As Learner will tell you, the most gratifying mark of a good library is the patrons' commitment to the covenant of silence. Granted, there are moments when this covenant is broken, but typically these are few and far between; thus, when little more than the white-noise hum of the ventilation system floats in and throughout the stacks of books and corners and crevices of the facility, ah...

In addition to the sanctity of such silence is the positive peer pressure of going to the library to read and study and little more. This, of course, has become complicated in recent years by the technological advance/regress (depending on one's discipline) of Wi-Fi, but Learner does well balancing his studies and his surfing, "rewarding" himself every 45-60 minutes with a 10-15 minute Internet break.

Another benefit of libraries is they are generally free, with patrons needing only a library card to check out its resources. Whether rich or poor, one's access to ideas is without charge, one of the most beautiful and powerful concepts to Learner in all of existence.

Libraries, of course, can be both inspiring and discouraging; inspiring in that the culture has produced so many books on so many different ideas, and discouraging in that no one could fully tap into the wealth of information in the course of a mere lifetime. Ecclesiastes 12:11 comes to Learner's mind often regarding this: "Of making many books there is no end, and much study wearies the body."

Still (and for the most part), libraries are an introvert's domain. Unlike so much of culture and its emphasis on the loud and the brash and the public, libraries are quiet, courteous, and private, much like Learner can be himself (and the way he often wishes the world was). Still, the good ideas will eventually end up in here, where Learner can deal with them on his own turf and in his own way and time.

And that's a quiet little idea that makes him very, very happy.

Of Stogies, Port, and Denominations

Having provided a general introduction to Learner's seminary, let me be more specific and introduce Learner's new neighbor (I'll call him Craw), with whom we enjoyed an evening of cigars, Port (burgundy wine with Portuguese roots), and discussion of church government of the aforeveiled denomination.

The funny thing is, of course, that Learner has never been much of a smoker, a drinker, or a denominationalist. Craw, on the other hand, is very much all three (though not to a point of cancer, drunkenness, or religiosity). Of Japanese descent and from Los Angeles, Craw says he never read a book until he was 19, didn't finish his undergraduate degree until he was 27, joined the Marines because he was bored, and ended up converting to Christianity. Now about to turn 39, he has a wife, three kids, and a confidence of calling to the pastorate that seems genuine enough.

Being a second-year student, Craw is knowledegable about most things (or at least more so than Learner) with regard to the seminary and denomination. Even though Learner only has one professor this summer in Greek, he now "knows" (or more accurately, "knows of") more thanks to Craw's honest but fair profile of them. While there is opinion in his thoughts as to views on doctrinal positions or teaching styles, there is respect in his tone for the men as pastoral professors, and that balance counts for something in Learner's book.

Craw's thoughts go beyond the scope of seminary; he seems well-versed and street smart as to the workings of particular church governments, noting where (at least from his perspective) each might be a little too tight or too loose in relation to the Scriptures with regard to what each interprets and does. Again, while it wasn't too hard to discern Craw's perspective on the issue at hand, it was presented in a fair enough manner.

All in all (and despite the pseudo-headache in the morning presumably from the port/gin and tonic/unimaginably low tolerance trifecta), Learner enjoyed the evening and looks forward to visits to "Che Craw" to gain perspective from this older, more-informed neighbor/student.

A Unique Environment for Studying and Living

Learner's seminary environment is an interesting one. It's not a ridiculously big student population (say over 25,000 like his undergraduate experience was) in which one sees mostly different people everytime one walks outside. Instead, walking around on this small campus of twenty acres, the faces remain mostly the same, enabling more familiarity and (sometimes awkwardly) community.

There is very much a sense of safety and trust, with bags and laptops and the like being left on tables for longer-than-usual periods of time without much thought given to the possibility of theft (Learner's family have yet to lock the door of their three-bedroom apartment or their two vehicles in the parking lot). The facilities are well-kept (though Learner has been disappointed in the student body's sense of responsibility for trash), and while there are rules and guidelines in place, none seem peculiarly over-the-top in terms of legalism.

Other observations? People are very focused, not at all like the undergrad world. Men are here to study; women are here to ensure that the men can (and do). Children serve as both distraction and relief from the workload, and literally all parents seem to care and have great concern about the children being here, not just from a perspective of making sure they are not hit by a driver in the parking lot, but that the children are mindful and respectful of others with whom they interact in any and every situation.

With a range of ages anywhere from 22-52 in campus apartments, seminary is a unique environment for studying and living to be sure. Differing marital statuses (in every campus apartment building there is one apartment reserved for singles among the families occupying the rest) and a variety of backgrounds and nationalities round out the demographic makeup of the student body.

If groceries and worship were not a consideration, one could go for months never leaving the property (a thought that appealed to Learner and his family from the very beginning, though they have "gotten out" plenty of times since moving in three weeks ago). Still, they recognize this existence for what it is - a novel one they probably will never experience again in the course of their lifetime as a family - and thus are pinching themselves trying to comprehend it.

Enjoying and making the most of this environment is precisely what makes studying and living here so easy...and so hard.

Greek to Him

Tonight is Learner's first Greek exam. After only two weeks of four actual classes, he's had three quizzes, covered ten chapters, learned the alphabet and over 120 vocabulary words, and memorized (sort of) almost ten different verb paradigms for present, imperfect, future, and aorist (1st and 2nd) forms, all with active and deponent variations. This is not your everyday language course (or at least not Spanish, which he took 13 hours of in college, never to speak again).

Back in my time, of course, Greek was the language of the day, much like English is now; thus, when I was delivering Paul's letters, I never gave much thought to the reality that so much work would need to go into making his words known to so many. When you really think about it (and Learner has), it is an amazing thing that so many translations have been made for hundreds of different languages, and that so many of them have been in existence for hundreds of years. The world has benefited from some very smart and committed people in the discipline of language translation over the years.

While Learner's glad from an educational perspective to be learning Koine (or "common") Greek, he did mention in between flashcards that he wonders as to the actual value of devoting an entire summer (with an entire course of exegesis in the fall) to this historic language, particularly with the software and concordances available to aid in translation nowadays. Wouldn't it be more effective and a better use of time to teach students to use those tools to get at the nuance meanings and ideas?

Truth be told, I'm a bit worried for my friend. He says he comprehends the concepts of what's being taught but, while he knows his vocab inside and out, the verb conjugations, contractions, and parts of speech parsing are eating his lunch. His average score on the first three quizzes (45 points total) is 75% (a solid C), but this first exam is worth 100 points and covers it all. He's studied, but he's not sure what he really knows or if he can regurgitate it accurately and in the allotted time (an hour) on an exam.

He'll find out tonight, I suppose.

The Idolatry of Church

I fear I may not have done Learner justice in my last post with regard to his thoughts and feelings concerning the Church. It being Sunday (and with Learner preparing to teach Sunday School this morning at the request of an absent assistant pastor), allow me to elaborate on more of what I know his thinking to be.

If you were to ask Learner if the Church was God's only and ordained way to reach the world, he would say yes...and no...and yes...and then probably that he wasn't sure. This comes from a variety of experiences (too lengthy to go into in this one post), as well as a self-recognized lack of ecclesiastical study over the years (another reason he is in seminary now). As mentioned before, he believes the Church is the Bride of Christ, and has in the past three years moved toward taking a fuller part in that analogy.

But he has not fully embraced the idea of what he has often called "the idolatry of Church," that mentality that tends to serve as justification for people to do things in the name of the Church rather than in the name of God. Granted, he realizes there might not be all that much of a difference between the two (and forgive him, he says, if he's splitting hairs), but he's very sensitive (probably overly so) to behavior of pastors who seem more like small (or large) business owners of their churches than humble shepherds of God's flock.

And yet (and this is part of what Learner struggles with in all this), loving the Church in the most passionate of ways makes total sense, certainly biblically as well as rationally. After all, if she is the Bride of Christ, we should want to love her because Jesus does (the old "Girlfriend/Fiance/Bride of our best friend, Jesus" argument).

Learner gets all that conceptually. But (and it's not a question of ease in his mind), why doesn't the idea of loving the Church with such zeal overwhelm him the way it does so many others? Why, if indeed he is seeking to follow and love God, a more passionate care and love for his Church is not manifest in his life?

More on these thoughts, I'm sure, as we go along.

Hope and Realism

In talking with Learner, you might wonder just what exactly he hopes to accomplish by being at seminary. While a Christian and (thus also) a believer in the Church, he is hardly a "company man" from the perspective of most things denominational (which denomination that is, well...perhaps later). While he loves God and the Church, they are not equals in Learner's mind and, if forced to choose, he would choose the former over the latter (which, of course, is the right answer, but as it's a "straw man" question, let's just be glad such a choice really doesn't demand to be made).

From an academic perspective, Learner is not (nor has he ever been) your most brilliant of students; in college (a place where he was still very much learning to "apply himself" as they say), he was a solid B/C student. Though many may think of seminary as nothing more than a religious education (and perhaps this was his mistake as well), it is graduate-level work. As the seminary is (by most evaluations) a good, accredited school, Learner has been a bit overwhelmed at the idea of what lies ahead. Two weeks, he says, has felt like two years, but it's only been one class (granted, a language) in the summer! From my vantage point, this could be a long road to hoe.

If you were to talk with Learner, you would probably come away with a very vague yet real sense of destiny in his description of who he is and what his hopes for this time are. The thing I appreciate most about him is the mix of hope and realism he constantly holds in tension. In most people, one of the two eventually overwhelms the other, but not with Learner; as long as I've known him (which has been for more than several years now), he has refused to relinquish neither his dreams nor his duties. While this can be exhausting for those of us around him, it can be inspiring at times as well.

Greetings and Salutations

It's a strange thing, technology. Had I had more of it a couple millennia ago, life would have been grand (or at least easier) in accomplishing that which was asked of me (but that's another blog). And yet, those tasks got done; after all, I made it into the Bible in a rather positive light, and Paul's words survived well enough.

And yet, an even stranger thing is those who have technology (particularly of the communications kind) but are frightened to use it. Such the type would be my friend, whom I'll call "Learner," a seminary student as of merely two weeks (though he wonders if he's the better for it). He thought about telling all this himself, but instead asked me to do it for him (after all, I've had a bit more experience of the "message carrying" sort).

Where exactly are we? Ah, that's really not all that important, at least that's what Learner tells me (something about "anonymity at all costs"). I'm not sure why the secrecy or what the risk (after all, it's seminary - how exciting or controversial can it be?), but I've assured him he can trust me with his news here. While I'm afraid you'll never reach Learner, if you'd like to contact me, you're always welcome and I'll be glad to pass on a message or two his way.