I arrived to Fuller Theological Seminary in Pasadena, California, in the summer of 2010. It was a different time for me and for this country. I had begun migrating back into Christian faith from agnosticism only six months earlier, and I’d been reading every bit of biblical scholarship I could possibly get my hands on.
If I were to start seminary over now, first, I would request required reading lists for church history and systematic theology, and I would attend a seminary that allowed me to do independent studies for my church history and systematic theology course requirements. Does such a seminary exist? This may sound odd. Let me explain.
Today, I am a parish pastor. I preach weekly, among other things. Engaging the biblical text and teaching from the text pastorally are what I do most regularly. A working knowledge of church history and systematic theology is a basic necessity, but I took three church history classes and three systematic theology classes that were all lecture oriented. Reading the books would have sufficed. Instead of those classes, I would take more Bible classes.
And not just any Bible classes. I took a New Testament class called “Wealth and poverty in the New Testament” while Occupy Wall Street was happening across the country. The biblical texts refused to remain ancient. The parables, narratives and letters were leaping off the pages as were their historical, cultural, economic and political contexts. With careful attention, the texts preach themselves.
Second, I would spend more time taking up professors on their invitations to coffee, lunch and gatherings at their homes. I did this a handful of times, but I felt the pressure of deadlines all the time. The next paper or exam always loomed large. There was always one more footnote to write or chapter to review or study guide to mull over.
The few times I visited professors’ homes were deeply rewarding. Hearing them laugh and share personal stories – some planned and others apparently extemporaneous – humanized them. I could see their love for the Bible and the church. I could see glimpses of their daily life; they were not merely ivory-tower brains. They were people with marriages, children, challenges, hopes, disappointments and all the other stuff of life. I will not soon forget John Goldingay, our Old Testament professor, handing me my second cup of tea at his home.
If I were to attend seminary tomorrow, I would read the same amount, I would attend more Bible classes and I would worry a little less.
