3 Things I Learned from my first Year in Seminary
This past fall, I started my first year of seminary at Talbot School of Theology. To be honest, I never considered going to graduate school at all growing up. It was only by the Lord leading me that I went. I am so glad He did — it matches my personality and need for deep thinking more than I ever would have thought.
I decided to start a tradition. At the end of every year, I will reflect on three things I learned from seminary. This way I can look back and see how God has moved in my life during that year.
Let’s start with lesson number one:
1. Honesty with God is essential
At Talbot, every seminary student goes through spiritual formation courses. In these classes, the professor assigns hour-long prayer assignments to do each week. The purpose of these prayer projects are so each of us confront what is actually going on in our heart before God. I had never considered myself a “prayer warrior,” where the words flowed easily from my lips to God’s ears. My experience of prayer has always been clunky. I get distracted, my mind wanders, and I never have enough words to say to God. Through those prayer assignments, I learned that this experience isn’t abnormal, as if I’m excluded from the few “chosen ones” who can pray naturally and for long periods of time. In reality, it's a very normal human experience. We all get distracted, our minds wander, and we hide from God (whether by avoiding prayer or just speaking at God with no room for Him to respond).
I learned that honesty with God is not only what He wants, but that’s what actually transforms a soul. (See the book Where Prayer Becomes Real: How Honesty with God Transforms Your Soul by Kyle Strobel and John Coe). Through the power of the Holy Spirit, God uses our honesty to convict, guide, teach, and transform. When we engage with God not as our scrubbed-up self (or sending in our “avatars” to pray for us, as my professor would always say), but honestly, we are actually relating to Him. Anything else is a method of hiding ourselves from the Lord. It is how we cover our bodies in shame like Adam and Eve in the garden of Eden after they sinned.*
I’m not claiming that I’m now this prayer mogul. I still get confused, my mind still wanders, and honestly, I still avoid spending time with God. But I’m not as ashamed of those less-than-perfect parts of me. If anything, they become sources of my strength (2 Cor. 12:7-10). My inability to relate to God well on my own preaches the gospel itself— because of the grace of Christ, I can engage with God before I’m perfect at it. He teaches me as I go, not when I get it right the first time. And, I would argue, prayer is not about “doing it right,” like it's a graded performance. Rather, it’s a relational opportunity to talk to the God we were made for.* I don’t know about you, but that frees me up ten-fold. Even if a thousand different negative thoughts arise when I pray, it is all a win with Jesus. It’s an opportunity to process with God and have Him lead me to the way everlasting (Ps. 139:23-24).
How awesome is that!
2. Humor and wisdom don’t have to contradict
To put it plainly, I’m a bit of a goof. That might not always be showcased on this blog, but it's true (unfortunately, for my family and friends). I sometimes feel this as a contradiction within myself. I work in chapels at my college, while also being on my school’s improv team. There have been times where I’ve read Scripture aloud during a university chapel, and then at a show the next day played a nerd named Velma who pees herself (I didn’t literally pee myself of course. I’m not talented enough to pee on command). I feel a tension between those two parts of me at times— the “silly” and the “serious”. Also, people assume things about you that aren’t necessarily true. People who are funny are sometimes considered not very deep, and those who think deeply are usually viewed as a drag. Don’t get me wrong, I can be a drag sometimes. I’ve also had many moments where there were no coherent thoughts in my head— brain empty. But I’ve felt this tension— how do I represent Christ well with all of who I am? Even the parts of me that are a wee bit strange (pun intended) and do bad impressions of Simpsons characters?
First off, I’ve learned that some of the funniest people I know are also the most thoughtful. I will almost choke from laughing at something one of my improv teammates have said, and then witness them create beautiful films, process long-suffering, and ask deep questions. I realized that being roped into “the chapel girl” or “the funny one” is an opportunity to show people Jesus. What is more spiritually challenging than seeing a Christian who loves people and has joy? Though it’s difficult keeping yourself accountable in comedy, what better witness to others than showing that being a Christian can actually be fun? That God doesn’t want to butcher your personality at the cross, but rather redeem it and make it new— what it is always supposed to be? I realized that if God has joy and laughs, so can I. Humor and wisdom don’t have to contradict each other, they can complement one another! It brings people to a level of truth that they couldn’t have otherwise. (And if anything, a lot of things are funny because they are relatable or depict a reality that’s a bit absurd. Think about it.*)
3. I can do hard things
When I started seminary in the fall, I was in a program that didn’t require me to study the biblical languages (which, if you are unfamiliar, are Hebrew and Greek). I started my course load and enjoyed the classes I was taking, but felt this itching bother that I was limiting myself from a wider and deeper conversation that comes with biblical exegesis. I knew what I had to do: change my program so I can learn the biblical languages. But I was scared. I didn’t feel smart enough, intimidated by the prospect of learning two ancient languages over the next three years. I knew it would be more academically rigorous, and take more of my effort and time. I had many questions: What if I got lost in academia? What if I became spiritual dry and rote? And the worst one: What if I learned so much that I became inaccessible in how I spoke to others?
Through the wisdom of some awesome people ahead of me in life (shoutout Dr. Lisa Igram), I decided to make the switch. I realized that, in fact, if you want to speak in a clearer and more accurate way— you have to think deeper. And deep thinking usually requires a more complicated workload. I’ll wait to talk about the benefits of learning the biblical languages until later in my program. But, I now write to you after passing both Hebrew I and Hebrew II. I shocked myself with how if I just put in the work, I could do it. I wasn’t perfect in my studying. But I was encouraged: I can do hard things if I put my mind to it. I don’t have to dream about an “ideal life” where I accomplish difficult tasks. I can do it now! And you can too— through the power and guidance of the Holy Spirit. I promise you, you are more capable than what you think. I don’t mean that in an over-work-yourself type of way. All I’m saying is this: you’ll shock yourself if you just try.
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Quotes & What’s Relevant:
Footnotes:
*Many of these thoughts are regurgitated from what my professor, Dr. Kyle Strobel, has said in our spiritual formation classes. I am so grateful for his guidance, his words still mull in my head to this day.
*Thought came from either Dallas Willard or John Coe
*See Dr. Erik Thoennes’ article below
Recommended Reads:
Laughing Through Tears: The Redemptive Role Of Humor In A Fallen World by Dr. Erik Thoennes (article)
Where Prayer Becomes Real: How Honesty with God Transforms Your Soul by Kyle Strobel and John Coe (book)
“Search me, God, and know my heart;
test me and know my anxious thoughts.
See if there is any offensive way in me,
and lead me in the way everlasting.”
- Psalm 139:23-24
“or because of these surpassingly great revelations. Therefore, in order to keep me from becoming conceited, I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”
- 2 Cor. 12:7-10
