Our schools, like our churches and our ministers, have no clear conceptions of what they are doing but are carrying on traditional actions, making separate responses to various pressures exerted by churches and society, contriving uneasy compromises among many values, engaging in little quarrels symptomatic of undefined issues, trying to improve their work by adjusting minor parts of the academic machine or by changing the specifications of the raw material to be treated.” This was written by H. Richard Niebuhr in his book, “The Purpose of the Church and Its Ministry: A Provocative Interpretation of the American Church and Its Purpose and a Rethinking of the Aims of Theological Education,” copyright 1956.
Niebuhr laments the “mistiness” of theological education, churches and ministers. He lifts up the reality that, “theological curriculum has been ‘enriched’ — like vitamin-impregnated bread — by the addition of a long series of short courses in sociology and social problems, rural and urban sociology, the theory of religious education … public speaking, church administration … et cetera.”
Striking, isn’t it? How H. Richard Niebuhr’s words from 1956 resonate in 2015? The context then included explosive church growth, the context now the reverse … and yet … the curriculum continues to be “enriched” even if the list of vitamins is different.
What are we to make of this? Perhaps Niebuhr states it best: “The problem of its ministers is always how to remain faithful servants of the Church in the midst of cultural change and yet to change culturally so as to be true to the Church’s purpose in new situations.” Paul might say we are to be all things to all people for the sake of the gospel. But how is the world is that taught?
Starting with an apophatic approach — naming what theological education is not — could help. It is not business school. It is not a school of social work, psychology department, monastery or church. Theological education is not an incubator for entrepreneurs or a place to find oneself, whatever that means. Perhaps it has been “enriched” with these things and more, but the primary purpose it serves is preparing men and women to think of themselves “as servants of Christ and stewards of God’s mysteries.”
Servants, stewards and mysteries: three concepts that need to be recovered if we are to clear away the “mistiness” in both seminary and ministry. What if we translated 1 Corinthians 4:1 like this: Think of us in this way, as assistants to Christ and administrators of God’s transcendent, ultimate reality. It may be a bit clunky but it holds the critical tension between our subordinate role and the expansive, sacred trust we are called to manage. In short, it puts us in our place, making it unambiguous whom we serve and to what end. As one accountant I know used to say when it came time to give the budget report, “I didn’t write this story, I was only told to read it.”
Theological education needs to cultivate a culture and shape a mindset of humility and obedience. (Oh yeah, I said it.) Philippians 2:4 comes to mind, “Let each of you look not to your own interests, but to the interests of others.” Imagine that as a seminary tag line.
In a context where everyone is above average it would be radical to lift up the biblical notion that we aren’t special, the One we serve is. And that is, in fact, where the joy of this call resides. Theological education must immerse those under its sway in the mysteries of God. We are all subordinate helpers and public treasurers, but what riches are we entrusted to distribute! The story we are privileged to tell is the gospel story. Think John 3:16 and Romans 8 and the words of institution and the epiclesis and the Great Commission. In all the “enrichment,” the accessories, special effects, slick brochures and amenities, let’s hold fast to the basic kerygma: We bring the good news that what God has promised, God has fulfilled by raising Jesus. Let’s prepare men and women to pro claim that truth, being all things to all people, for the sake of the gospel. There is no “mistiness” in that.
Grace and peace,
Jill
