Responsive Learning

Seminary learning is much different than learning in any other department of education. You may sit in nursing classes, business classes, ESL classes, biology classes, social work classes, even underwater basket-weaving classes, and never experience a learning environment similar to seminary.

In my defense, I earned my first degree in business administration. Decorum in class was thoughtful and organized. The syllabus ruled. Discussions followed a focused path. Questions rarely carried loaded meanings or poorly shrouded agendas. People exercised civility despite disagreements. When professors or classmates made a good point they were greeted with a handshake or slap on the back and encouraged to run with their idea. Writing about all of the ways seminary contrasts my undergraduate experience would lead to a far greater tome than you would wish to read today, so I'll save most of those for another day. Today we focus on responsive learning.

Long gone is the simplicity of shaking the hand or slapping the back of the commenters. We no longer wait for the end of class to encourage the speaker in their beliefs or presentation of their belief. Feedback is instant. Feedback is voracious. Feedback is robust. Feedback is loud.

Imagine you begin declaring the joy of God's grace and forgiveness. Be prepared to pause in appropriate spots for the hearty "amens" coming from those around you. Comment on pushy legalistic members and welcome a resounding "WELLLLL!!" from the classroom congregation. Bring up any one of the hot button items in the church (i.e. ordination of lady ministers, distrustful leadership, or seminarian finances) and out comes "Preach!" or "Take your time, take your time!" Sing with confidence and you may hear "Don't play with it, Girl! Sing that song!"

The importance of affirmation cannot be completely forsaken, but it seems silly the way church members and pastors holler their agreement without reserve. Never once did I have a fellow accountant holler their approval in a presentation of my work. My wife, an ER nurse, doesn't hear raucous whooping and clapping when she rants on the lack of team cohesion. Is the rest of the world just not appreciative of shared beliefs and complimentary ideas?

Sure, I've been caught up in the fervor and excitement of responsive learning. Yes, I have been known to offer boisterous, if not irreverent, affirmation to speakers and classmates. But maybe we should do more privately. Maybe instead of hollering for everyone within earshot to know how much we love or agree with someone we could quietly write it in a notebook full of our core values and beliefs. Or we could whisper a prayer of affirmation for how the comments, the ideas or the acts of worship of others move us closer to Jesus. I say the world doesn't need to hear our irreverence or praise of people but instead needs to hear the praise of Jesus Christ and what He's saying.

Trying to Make Things Hard

This made too much sense to not repost.

The Simple Things | Stuff Christians Like – Jon Acuff

#seminarysabbath

At Seminary Sights and Sounds we make light of many things. Our skepticism and jaded attitudes may appear to reign supreme, but ultimately, I hope, people know we care about these things because we believe they misrepresent or mar the picture of Jesus and His people. Or at least they make us look foolish. (Except the seminary sleepers that are just funny for the sake of being funny.)

Each week we are blessed to visit a Sabbath school and worship service that is offering a stoic and stale worship community a vibrant, open, safe and creative alternative. It steps on some folks' toes and moves many closer to Jesus.

We are not completely cynical...yet. And we are thankful for chances to see Jesus transform people in the middle of a place that makes it hard for us to see Jesus in others.

Have a restful Sabbath!

#seminarystyle

This is for J.

#seminaryslides

Fire Lion

#seminarysleepers

Preaching to the choir

As a student of the Seminary, I understand that there is a specific standard by which all students are all held to. Most standards are written laws of expected and enforced conduct while others are social norms as refereed by the student body. We are kept in check, and when all else fails we keep each other in double check. For the most part, our community toes the line and not much administrative action is necessary. In my opinion, most people understand that we are grown adults with a firm grasp of acceptable life skills needed to operate. Yet, all of this is forgotten the moment we step into any given Chapel service.

Here in the Seminary, a room full of pastors having spent time in an undergraduate-level classroom learning how to speak to a room full of believers/non-believers. An overwhelming majority of this group have worked in the ministry field putting their degrees to practical use in real time before live audiences. And of that majority, over half of that lot is in their second year of instruction at the Masters level. Which is to say that they have received a graduate level understanding of homiletics. 

In a not so distant analogy, imagine a convention held in a dimly lit conference center amidst a bustling downtown civic center. Attendance is by invitation only, and only the elite practicing magicians that managed to swing the exorbitant fee are on the guest list. The room is packed with some of the most innovative minds in the magic game. They run the gamut of slick card sharks, deceptive mind tricks, big-stage entertainers, and masters of the sleight of hand. In their hands sits a flyer with the words "Magic! Magic! Magic!" emblazoned on the front. While the back of the flyer is almost comically blank. 

The lights dim in the house as the convention begins, a big name magician slides onto the stage wearing an overly exaggerated velvet top hat, a dark flowing cape, a tuxedo with overly large cuffs in the sleeves. The PA system squeals as the seven smoke machines sputter directly into the speakers placed clumsily on the stage. The fog obscuring the man for a moment before he stumbles forward to the center of the stage. spilling a deck of cards in his hands. His hat topples to the ground exposing the flock of sickly looking doves to the misty air as they fly aimlessly around the room. Dusting himself off, the music already quickening  to a frenetic pace, he chaotically dives into his routine. 

Producing another pack of oversized cards, he spins as he tucks the deck halfheartedly into his sleeve while yanking a bouquet of roses from his jacket. Almost in awe of his own trick his eyes bulge and mouth gapes wide as he builds a bit of a swagger in his step as he throws the flowers to crowd. After a few more tricks consisting of the magician "finding a coin" behind his own ear, disappearing another deck of cards into the hand behind his back in a flash of sparks that singe his now red and throbbing fingers, and attempting to invite a random audience member on stage to no avail, the magician leaves the stage smiling ear to ear and making his own whooshing sound effects to supplement the audio track that had long since ended leaving the room in deafening silence. 

With that, the lights come up in the house and the faint buzz of faulty wiring in one of the fluorescent fixtures fills the room. A thin man steps the stage and announces that there will be refreshments in the lobby during a brief intermission before the afternoon workshops begin. A powerpoint slide appears above the man's head projected on to the wall still obscured by the sputtering haze from the smoke machines. Reading directly from the wall behind him, the man begins excitedly reading the words out loud. The sessions listed read:

"Is this your card?"- A symposium unlocking the mystery of basic card tricks

"Ta-da!"- An all-day workshop to help you choose your personalized catch phrase

"Loose Change"- Keen tips on how to keep kids entertained using a handful of coins

"Capes!"- An afternoon in the magician's closet trying on seven different capes

The man finishes his brief introductions and releases the audience into the hallway. Without a word, the magicians file into each room to begin their afternoon sessions. 

As overly exaggerated as the above may seem, I do not believe the analogy to be so farfetched as not to illuminate the very reality I have personally observed weekly. A room full of pastors, using the same mechanics of homiletics covered in week one of training, enforcing chants of God's goodness. A chorus of repetitive regurgitated lines prompted by the lecturer. Sermons on the goodness of God and the salvation of all people who believe. Testimonies from students speaking on how good God has been to them that are littered with overt baptismal appeals. Messages better suited for the weekly children's story posing as the heart of the worship service. Mandated silence in the pews after multiple threats and vicious staring into the Sanctuary from the orator. Prompts for a hearty "amen" used like punctuation after the most basic sentences. Visual aids projecting endless images clipped from the kids' quarterly database eliciting immediate repentance from a life of constant caustic sinning. A barrage of noise better suited for nothing, but best seen in the most intentional of evangelistic series'. All before a room full of pastors trained to learn the tricks that do exactly what they are supposed to do.

But even as we file into each pew to receive the tips and witness the tricks we learned as children from the boxed sets under the Christmas tree we spent months pining for, some seem to forget that they are being tricked. And so we sit looking onward pretending not to notice that we are fully aware of the next move before it happens. And when it occurs as scheduled, by the book, we "ooh" and "ahh" in unison at the wonders before us. 

I, for one, say enough is enough. I believe that we can do better than this. 

What would happen if we used the Chapel to showcase sermons that have been written that are too edgy and dark to be read in the undergraduate dorms for worship credit? What if we shared the stories of faith that would shake the common Christian sitting in the pews in our home churches? What if we were to pose the questions we know that we ask in our minds and let them rise up in the safe spaces we meet in so that we can find a release unavailable in most meeting rooms? What if we stopped acting like pastors among pastors and started being honest that we are acting? What if we spent more time trying to figure out how to struggle with the issues appropriately rather than trying to prove that we are without struggle? What if we stopped saying "amen" so that we never let on that what we are heralding is actually something we are having difficulty with? What if instead of "amen" we said "damn that's me", "yep I'm guilty of that", and "ouch"? What if we ended the Crusade and began the revolution? What if we stopped preaching to the choir and started singing a new song worth saying "amen" to?

I think it might be the best trick ever seen.

#seminarysoundoff

#seminarysleepers

#seminarysleepers

#seminarysleepers

out pastoring the pastors

pastors are a strange enough breed on their own, but the seminary pulls them all together, for better or worse, till Fs do us part. one of the most interesting things to watch is seminarians looking to out pastor the rest of the future pastoral fields. and there is no shortage of opportunities for competitive pastoring.

some examples:

praying in class - the professor asks a seminarian to pray. perhaps prayer requests are solicited. the obviously anointed seminarian prepares their voice for prayer and every eye is closed and every head is bowed. what happens next is the prayer of a late-19th century preacher at a tent meeting trying, through their prayer alone, to win the soul of every human within hearing distance. the vocabulary transcends current earthly languages. the tone deep and full (even the ladies pray this way). the prayer is given as though their grade depends on this particular sanctified soliloquy. two lines in, the class is no longer listening to the earnest words of the prayer but wondering whether the prayer-giver really thinks it necessary to out pray anyone whose ever prayed before.

singing hymns - seminary worship comes to order and the announcements are given. the organ fires up and begins dragging melodiously monotonously through a hymn at half one-eighth the speed the hymn should actually be played. then the lone chorister begins majestically hilariously leading their captive chorus. arms flailing just within their control the song oozes on. seminarians throughout the auditorium are proclaiming the message of the gospel in song as loudly as possible. one has the vocal reach of a tugboat signaling its moves. another sounds like a freight train barreling through a tiny midwestern town. all parts are covered and no fewer than half are singing their way to salvation.

practical pastoral ministry - without fail the class conversation turns to "real" ministry and application of knowledge and ideas in local churches. God forbid someone who has actually pastored in a church be given any consideration, though. you share your experience in your church and suddenly those who have only sat in pews feel it their God-directed mission to explain how you have no clue what it takes to lead a church. "you just need to exert the natural authority of your position as pastor," they say. "i've seen this work before," they add. in your mind you imagine them being tar-and-feathered at their very first elder's meeting, not to mention what would happen at their first board meeting. unfortunately for you they were in your class to help set you straight. and don't worry, you'll also get to spend the next 2.5 years in the same classes so they can continue to impart such ministerial gems to you for your files.

there are more examples, certainly. this barely scratches the surface. let us know your favorite "out pastoring the pastor" moment(s) in the comments.

#seminarysleepers

seminary sleep sighting