Stuff They Didn't Teach Me In Seminary, Part 1
Surely, somebody's written this book already but I didn't feel like looking online to check, and if they had, I don't want my entry to be influenced by their thoughts anyway. So, here's a few things that I wish I'd gotten the memo about from my seminary studies (in no particular order)--and I can't imagine that it'll stay at one entry:
Not Everyone Is Fascinated By Theology. I've found that the study of theology gave me a firm foundation by which to interpret Scripture and, as accurately as possible, communicate those truths to be applicable to people's day-in, day-out lives. But that's about as far as it goes. People will turn off their attentiveness receptors when they hear words like "redaction criticism" or "progressive dispensationalism" or "transubstantiation" just like when anyone starts throwing out the nuances of their work.
Pastors Are An Enigma. When I'm in social settings meeting new people and we're doing the "What-Do-You-Do?" thing, saying "Pastor" can draw the funniest looks from people. It starts this way: "Hi, Jim, what line of work are you in?" "I'm in pharmaceutical sales. I really enjoy it. What do you do?" "I'm a pastor at CBC on 407. I like my job, too." They'll say something like, "That's nice," and then say, "if you'll excuse me, I need to check on my wife's snacks." It's like they don't know we can talk about the Cowboys or the latest movies or current events or laughing about the latest practical joke we played on a co-worker. It makes me wonder what the general public thinks we do to step outside the human race.
Youth Pastors Over 40 Are An Enigma. When you're 25, just married, and doing youth ministry, people think that's really exciting...for you and for the people you serve. When you're 30, people are glad you're "still doing it" and glad you've given stability to that section of ministry. At around 35, people start asking when you're planning on "doing something else" or maybe "becoming a real pastor." When you're 40, people just figure it's an acute case of Peter Pan Syndrome--and they seem somewhat amazed and entertained and happy that you're "still doing it" and enjoying it.
If You Teach Grace, You'll Take Heat From Within. The seminary I learned in taught "grace-based theology" but it always seemed so academic in approach. The church I landed in has been teaching this in a very practical sense long before I landed in it. I can't figure out why something so clear in Scripture causes so much friction and in-house debate. But it does. And, quite frankly, I don't mind it at all. But I've been blistered by parents, students, other pastors, people that don't even go to my church, and the like more often than I can count. At this point, I know where and why the attacks are coming so it doesn't sting as much--it's almost too predictable now.
That Servanthood Thing: We're Serious About That. My seminary has a large statue of Jesus washing Peter's feet in the middle of campus. The symbolism is obvious. And I'm glad I have that visual reminder, because people have that level of expectation--and rightfully so. Discipleship without serving leads to pride and being puffed up with knowledge, and there's a tendency in our work to gain knowledge. It's always a good thing to stack chairs or move tables or lead groups to work in kitchens or give blood (even platelets!) or mow or trim or paint or fix a flat tire or whatever.
Teaching Takes It Out Of You (or Guard Your Days Off With Your Life, Or You Won't Have Long To Live). Most people have no idea the amount of labor it takes to prepare a sermon. The good ones will spend between 18--22 hours a week to deliver a 35-minute message. That includes study, prayer, thought, practicing for time, writing, re-writing, etc. Keep in mind that most of that is on the heels of seminary education and maybe even having taught it once or twice previously. Depending on the time of the year, I'm preparing a Tuesday night lesson in our adult C.E. department, a Wednesday night lesson for my high school guys, a Sunday morning 10:45AM class, a Thursday morning group meeting, and a Sunday night Sunday School class. Then teaching those classes and trying to be innovative and fresh, all the while understanding that you're striving to be Spirit-led, with the reality that you've been entrusted with the highest truths of mankind and doing so "as unto the Lord." Suffice to say, the Monday off is vital to refreshment.
Love People. People are not an intrusion into your life, they are your life. Yes, you've got a lot to prepare for and classes to teach and trips to plan and meetings to go to. But the best way you can spend your time is to actually love people. Enjoy being with them. So, if they want to share the college acceptance letter by busting into your office while you're preparing that lesson on Joel (that you skipped seminary class the day that taught that one, to boot), the best thing you can do it celebrate with them. When a mom sits in your office crying because she feels like a failure (even though she isn't) as a mom, it's okay to be late to the policies and procedures meeting. When the ladies group wants to pick your brain on parenting, you can laugh with them and empathize with their concerns. When another ministry is gearing up for their big event, you can share your co-worker's enthusiasm. Why? Because you love the people you serve...and in our gig, people should always come before paperwork.
(more on this tomorrow...we'll see how it goes.)
Surely, somebody's written this book already but I didn't feel like looking online to check, and if they had, I don't want my entry to be influenced by their thoughts anyway. So, here's a few things that I wish I'd gotten the memo about from my seminary studies (in no particular order)--and I can't imagine that it'll stay at one entry:
Not Everyone Is Fascinated By Theology. I've found that the study of theology gave me a firm foundation by which to interpret Scripture and, as accurately as possible, communicate those truths to be applicable to people's day-in, day-out lives. But that's about as far as it goes. People will turn off their attentiveness receptors when they hear words like "redaction criticism" or "progressive dispensationalism" or "transubstantiation" just like when anyone starts throwing out the nuances of their work.
Pastors Are An Enigma. When I'm in social settings meeting new people and we're doing the "What-Do-You-Do?" thing, saying "Pastor" can draw the funniest looks from people. It starts this way: "Hi, Jim, what line of work are you in?" "I'm in pharmaceutical sales. I really enjoy it. What do you do?" "I'm a pastor at CBC on 407. I like my job, too." They'll say something like, "That's nice," and then say, "if you'll excuse me, I need to check on my wife's snacks." It's like they don't know we can talk about the Cowboys or the latest movies or current events or laughing about the latest practical joke we played on a co-worker. It makes me wonder what the general public thinks we do to step outside the human race.
Youth Pastors Over 40 Are An Enigma. When you're 25, just married, and doing youth ministry, people think that's really exciting...for you and for the people you serve. When you're 30, people are glad you're "still doing it" and glad you've given stability to that section of ministry. At around 35, people start asking when you're planning on "doing something else" or maybe "becoming a real pastor." When you're 40, people just figure it's an acute case of Peter Pan Syndrome--and they seem somewhat amazed and entertained and happy that you're "still doing it" and enjoying it.
If You Teach Grace, You'll Take Heat From Within. The seminary I learned in taught "grace-based theology" but it always seemed so academic in approach. The church I landed in has been teaching this in a very practical sense long before I landed in it. I can't figure out why something so clear in Scripture causes so much friction and in-house debate. But it does. And, quite frankly, I don't mind it at all. But I've been blistered by parents, students, other pastors, people that don't even go to my church, and the like more often than I can count. At this point, I know where and why the attacks are coming so it doesn't sting as much--it's almost too predictable now.
That Servanthood Thing: We're Serious About That. My seminary has a large statue of Jesus washing Peter's feet in the middle of campus. The symbolism is obvious. And I'm glad I have that visual reminder, because people have that level of expectation--and rightfully so. Discipleship without serving leads to pride and being puffed up with knowledge, and there's a tendency in our work to gain knowledge. It's always a good thing to stack chairs or move tables or lead groups to work in kitchens or give blood (even platelets!) or mow or trim or paint or fix a flat tire or whatever.
Teaching Takes It Out Of You (or Guard Your Days Off With Your Life, Or You Won't Have Long To Live). Most people have no idea the amount of labor it takes to prepare a sermon. The good ones will spend between 18--22 hours a week to deliver a 35-minute message. That includes study, prayer, thought, practicing for time, writing, re-writing, etc. Keep in mind that most of that is on the heels of seminary education and maybe even having taught it once or twice previously. Depending on the time of the year, I'm preparing a Tuesday night lesson in our adult C.E. department, a Wednesday night lesson for my high school guys, a Sunday morning 10:45AM class, a Thursday morning group meeting, and a Sunday night Sunday School class. Then teaching those classes and trying to be innovative and fresh, all the while understanding that you're striving to be Spirit-led, with the reality that you've been entrusted with the highest truths of mankind and doing so "as unto the Lord." Suffice to say, the Monday off is vital to refreshment.
Love People. People are not an intrusion into your life, they are your life. Yes, you've got a lot to prepare for and classes to teach and trips to plan and meetings to go to. But the best way you can spend your time is to actually love people. Enjoy being with them. So, if they want to share the college acceptance letter by busting into your office while you're preparing that lesson on Joel (that you skipped seminary class the day that taught that one, to boot), the best thing you can do it celebrate with them. When a mom sits in your office crying because she feels like a failure (even though she isn't) as a mom, it's okay to be late to the policies and procedures meeting. When the ladies group wants to pick your brain on parenting, you can laugh with them and empathize with their concerns. When another ministry is gearing up for their big event, you can share your co-worker's enthusiasm. Why? Because you love the people you serve...and in our gig, people should always come before paperwork.
(more on this tomorrow...we'll see how it goes.)
.jpg){kind=avatar}
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home