My struggle through seminary

My parents weren't exactly "convinced" when I told them I wanted to go to seminary. To them, I think it felt like an attempt to prolong "real life" or maybe a last ditch effort to find meaning. I don't really blame them. It was pretty out of the blue, and it was almost a 180 degree turn from most of my life. And I don't think I really affirmed my decision very well throughout seminary either. I remember my mom saying quite often, "You don't really seem happy. Are you happy?" And, of course, I would immediately get defensive because of course I was happy. I was where God had called me. I was connecting to the deepest parts of my heart for the first time in my life. Of course, I am happy, mother. Leave me alone now, to be h.a.p.p.y. 

But I could see why she didn't think I was happy (I probably wasn't "happy," the way most people would use the word). I was struggling. From the very first class in seminary, I was struggling. Seminary was hard. Oh, but it was a deep deep joy for me as well. As much as it hurt to be stretched, moved, changed, broken, and molded, it brought me deep and abiding joy. I went through more transformation in the first few months of seminary than I had my entire life. I remember in elementary school I had terrible "growing pains" in my legs and feet. My body was changing and growing so fast that it was actually painful. This spiritual growing was also excruciating. So to the general spectator, or even to the people closest in my life, it probably didn't look like I was very happy.

I don't think the classes in seminary are designed to be difficult. And I didn't find them to be particularly difficult throughout the three years. Greek, of course, was like drinking out of a firehose. And I was never exactly brilliant in Greek, but I understood it enough to get by. I didn't understand any of Hebrew, and it was basically the worst (they say it's mathematical or "logical" and I'm like okay, 1+1+1=1 [Trinity joke, y'all]). All the other courses were challenging, but more so in the "make you rethink everything you've ever known and believed" sort of way. The workload was annoying for most classes, but never oppressive.

So, what made seminary so difficult? Probably the "make you rethink everything you've ever known and believed" part. My pre-seminary education was pretty normal for anyone who never really imagined going to seminary. I went to Sunday School for basically my whole life, learning about the picture-book stories like creation, Noah, and probably something about Jesus. I went to confirmation class when I was in middle school and memorized the books of the Bible (that's about all I remember from confirmation-- the fact that I had to memorize the books of the Bible, I don't actually remember the books of the Bible). I didn't attend any church camps growing up, at least not that I remember. I attended the ELCA Youth Gathering (and it was awesome), and after college I worked for the campus ministry at Ohio State while it went through a leadership vacuum.

So let's just say I didn't have any theological training beyond the couple of Rob Bell and Francis Chan books I had read in college.

So in seminary, it seemed as if every day I was being smacked by the realization that I everything I thought I knew about God was either wrong or not-exactly-right. Imagine that. At 21 years old, without any theological training, I didn't know everything. So what seemed like every day, whether it was in class or in conversation with upperclass colleagues, I had to question everything.

If you've ever gone through this kind of questioning and awakening, you know how completely exhausting it is. So as joy-filled I was by my new friendships and learning, I was also feeling those growing pains all the time. That's why when people ask me about seminary I tell them to run away quickly, especially if they aren't ready for such fast and hard growth. And maybe not everyone goes through such crazy growing pains in such a short period of time. Maybe some people are able to go through those growing pains and still remain happy. But it was the kind of pain and growth that was needed for me to get to where I am today: called by God and the church to public ministry and working (and failing) day after day to follow Jesus.