End of Semester Update
I’ve ended my third semester of
seminary. Technically, this means I am 3/8ths through my program. Just like I
did after my first two semesters, I am going to blog about the highlight—or in
this case, a lowlight first and then a highlight.
First the lowlight--
As I wrote last year, the Bible has essentially become my playground: http://www.christensenshare.blogspot.com/2011/12/so-how-is-seminary-going.html and http://www.christensenshare.blogspot.com/2012/05/view-from-rooftop.html I enjoyed spending time there—playing around, getting dirty, and exploring. FUN... that's the way Bible exegesis and historical criticism felt. But this semester, I had a breakdown.
For my second sermon in Preaching class, I had picked an incredibly difficult Old Testament passage. For the Bible geeks out there, look up 1 Kings 18:20-40. "Fun" stuff, huh?
As I prepared the sermon, I realized how little I knew. I realized this is for real. This isn’t just about toying around anymore. I actually have to prepare a sermon for someone else. Holy cow, I freaked out—pun intended if you read the passage.I literally ended up bawling, not just once, but for about 10 days.
So why was this so emotional? I was
incredibly uneasy with the level of responsibility which was being placed in my
hands as a preacher. I was feeling the pressure of having to work on text and
then proclaim it for others. I felt this huge obligation to do the text
justice, and I just felt like I was scratching at the surface. Sure, I could go
about reading Scripture at the shallow level, just looking for passages that confirm my feelings or
thoughts. However, this would completely disrespect the culture it came out of,
belittle the author’s view, and overlook the original audience’s circumstance.
Scripture is an incredible gift that has been passed on to me. As I try to
connect my story to it, and encourage others to connect their stories to it, I
better appreciate it.
I’m better now, just in case
you’re wondering. I’ve come to realize that sermon preparation is going to be a
spiritual practice for me. Hanging out in the playground is too wonderful to
see as a burden. (Note: the picture is what sermon preparation looks like.
Yeah, I’d be in trouble if I saw this as a burden.)
In the midst of my melt-down, I fished for some encouragement from my mentors. Below is what I received from a professor. While I am proud and honored by the compliment, she knew I was a mess and needed some serious propping up--no special treatment here. But I share it because I think it is a good reminder how we all need to leave room for God.
Kelly, If I had to choose a student--past or present--to preach for my congregation, you would be on my short list.... you sense that the task is larger than you are. It is--it's larger than any of us. And that is a very good thing, because it leaves room for God.
Now, the highlight--
About five years ago, I took my first class at UTS, which was part of discernment. I was testing the waters. During the course, Congregational Spirituality, I was introduced to the Emergent Church Movement. I became seriously interested in the movement--it fits me both stylistically and theologically. Over the last several years, I kind of watched the movement but didn't put any serious study into it.
Well, this semester, one of the movement's leaders, Tony Jones, taught a class at UTS in emergent ecclesiology. I had one elective slot left. Was I going to use it on this class? Heck, yes! The class changed me:
First, I'm a forward thinking person, and this emergent-church-stuff gives me an outlet for that. One day, a visiting pastor (Doug Pagitt) recalled a story about a time he became keenly aware his vision was different than the vision of others in his church He said he felt like "his story was bumping up against their story." No kidding you... I nearly fell out of my seat, thinking, "I know exactly what you are talking about!"
Second, I have a new hope for Protestantism. While I think these emergent people take themselves a bit too seriously and slightly overestimate the extent to which an awakening is actually happening, their vision for Christianity in North America is hopeful. Re-imagining, narrative, personal, community/socially-oriented. Only time will tell whether their predictions are right.
Lastly, I have taken off my rose-colored glasses and am now able to critique the emergent movement. Hey, these are churches, and even though they aren't very institutionalized, they are systems which have limitations.
As I wrote last year, the Bible has essentially become my playground: http://www.christensenshare.blogspot.com/2011/12/so-how-is-seminary-going.html and http://www.christensenshare.blogspot.com/2012/05/view-from-rooftop.html I enjoyed spending time there—playing around, getting dirty, and exploring. FUN... that's the way Bible exegesis and historical criticism felt. But this semester, I had a breakdown.
For my second sermon in Preaching class, I had picked an incredibly difficult Old Testament passage. For the Bible geeks out there, look up 1 Kings 18:20-40. "Fun" stuff, huh?
As I prepared the sermon, I realized how little I knew. I realized this is for real. This isn’t just about toying around anymore. I actually have to prepare a sermon for someone else. Holy cow, I freaked out—pun intended if you read the passage.
I’m better now, just in case
you’re wondering. I’ve come to realize that sermon preparation is going to be a
spiritual practice for me. Hanging out in the playground is too wonderful to
see as a burden. (Note: the picture is what sermon preparation looks like.
Yeah, I’d be in trouble if I saw this as a burden.) In the midst of my melt-down, I fished for some encouragement from my mentors. Below is what I received from a professor. While I am proud and honored by the compliment, she knew I was a mess and needed some serious propping up--no special treatment here. But I share it because I think it is a good reminder how we all need to leave room for God.
Kelly, If I had to choose a student--past or present--to preach for my congregation, you would be on my short list.... you sense that the task is larger than you are. It is--it's larger than any of us. And that is a very good thing, because it leaves room for God.
Now, the highlight--
About five years ago, I took my first class at UTS, which was part of discernment. I was testing the waters. During the course, Congregational Spirituality, I was introduced to the Emergent Church Movement. I became seriously interested in the movement--it fits me both stylistically and theologically. Over the last several years, I kind of watched the movement but didn't put any serious study into it.
Well, this semester, one of the movement's leaders, Tony Jones, taught a class at UTS in emergent ecclesiology. I had one elective slot left. Was I going to use it on this class? Heck, yes! The class changed me:
First, I'm a forward thinking person, and this emergent-church-stuff gives me an outlet for that. One day, a visiting pastor (Doug Pagitt) recalled a story about a time he became keenly aware his vision was different than the vision of others in his church He said he felt like "his story was bumping up against their story." No kidding you... I nearly fell out of my seat, thinking, "I know exactly what you are talking about!"
Second, I have a new hope for Protestantism. While I think these emergent people take themselves a bit too seriously and slightly overestimate the extent to which an awakening is actually happening, their vision for Christianity in North America is hopeful. Re-imagining, narrative, personal, community/socially-oriented. Only time will tell whether their predictions are right.
Lastly, I have taken off my rose-colored glasses and am now able to critique the emergent movement. Hey, these are churches, and even though they aren't very institutionalized, they are systems which have limitations.
It looks like I might get some experience with these emergenty-type people in
the future, and I'll be excited to share what's coming ahead for me.
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