Closing the gap

I haven't done very well since my last post! But here's some food for thought: what if seminaries were more monastic and missional? What if they were centered around a worshipping community that ate together, served together, and sharpened each other on a daily basis? What if they were less institutional and more fluid? What if graduating wasn't about the piece of paper but about elders sending you out once they thought you were ready? What if there wasn't a set time or duration for the "program"? What if professors traveled to churches to train leaders in their existing contexts? What if the gap between the classroom and "real" life wasn't so wide? 

How do you train a pastor?

Hello again blogosphere! It's been too long. I can't promise better consistency this time around, but I got the itch to write a few things...

Seminaries claim to be in the business of training leaders for ministry. But how should this happen? Should it just be a matter of credentialing and transferring knowledge like most professions? Should it happen through practical training and internships? How rigorous should it be? How exclusive? How do you shape someone spiritually? How do you develop mature Christian leaders? How much of this responsibility should fall on seminaries?

These are the kinds of questions that have started to plague me in the last year. I don't have many answers (if any), but I'm going to hash out some of my thoughts in the coming days.

What is this thing called seminary?

Well, it's a lot of things, all at once. It's lectures and discussions, relationships and fellowship, reading and writing, talking and listening, wrestling and receiving. It's preparation and progress. It's said that you can lose yourself in seminary. I hope I don't, unless it's meant the way Jesus said it; that in order to follow Him, you must deny yourself, lose yourself, and follow Him. I do hope to lose some of my pride, some of my self-reliance. I do hope to lose some of the chains that still hold down my soul and enslave my mind. I hope that as I encounter Jesus more and more, he will burn away the sinful layers that I've accumulated in this world. I hope to be more free when I leave his place. Free to love Him and love the people He came to save. Free to respond to His Spirit. So in many ways I hope this is much more than just an academic pursuit. I want my soul to grow, not just my brain. Help me Jesus.

A Line in the Sand

Good message today at church about that passage where Jesus says he has come not to bring peace, but rather division (Luke 12:51). At first glance, this seems a little strange since he is the Prince of Peace. But his peace will only completely reign at the end of all things. In the meantime, he will continue to divide people. Just the other day I made the mistake of watching an atheist's tirade against faith on YouTube. People today and all throughout history either love or hate Jesus. And Jesus himself said that if people hated him, they will hate those who follow him.
Those words were proven true in that video. This man went on about how faith wasn't even worthy of respect because of it's unprovable nature. What I realized this morning more than ever before is that my job is not to prove to people that I am right. My job is to live out my love for Jesus in such a way that people can't help but consider that Jesus just might be real. Maybe my faith defies logic and reason. Maybe atheism is the proper intellectual choice, as many today are contending. But reality isn't necessarily confined by reason or logic. The God of the universe has come to Earth in the form of Jesus. Crazy? Sure. Unbelievable? For many.
But I cannot deny that this Jesus has come into my life. I can try to explain it away. I can say I've been brainwashed or that I'm mentally ill (as this atheist liked to think). But that wouldn't be true. I've been adopted by the God of the universe. He calls me one of his sons, and he calls Jesus my brother. To deny my faith would be to turn my back on my family. And that's just plain unreasonable.