Reflections On a Semester

I write this on the eve of the start of my second semester at United Lutheran Seminary. I started the first semester this past fall with a bit of apprehension, a general idea of a plan, and a good dose of excitement. And the semester started with a pre-semester crash course (also known as an intensive) in ancient biblical Greek language.

It was a good semester, a very good semester in fact. My concerns about returning to school more than 30 years post my previous graduate studies in a field that was design oriented proved to be unnecessary. Though I must say, I don’t think I’ve ever read so much in such a short time. Aside from wondering about my ability to keep up with the work, I worried about writing in an academic setting. I have never considered myself a strong writer, or even much of a writer at all. The past half dozen years or so I have journaled, for myself, not for others to read. Sometimes that is simply spilling words on the page. I occasionally write a blog post, so those are definitely more readable, but still not what I would call academic writing. So, writing history and theological papers seemed daunting.

I embarked on this adventure with only a rough draft of an idea of what direction I would take during my studies and afterwards. Well, initial plans to focus on faith formation bolstered with theology and biblical studies have shifted to a focus on theology peppered with faith and spiritual formation. Knowing that theological discussions and exploration seem hard to come by beyond the seminary walls, I flipped my original plan. Plus, I will admit, my dorky side does like to write those theological papers.

While the initial excitement hasn’t waned and helped to carry me through some of the heavy work-load periods, what I was not expecting to experience was what I coined as a “church crisis”. A few classmates have family members who were concerned that they would have “faith crises” and lose their faith by going to seminary. Sometimes people fear that about their kids going off to college as well. At some point in the semester, still early on, the sudden intense and overlapping focus of classes covering church history, archeology, culture, biblical studies, and theological doctrines all came to a head. It’s not that everything was new to me, yes, there was new information and new perspectives, but the concentration of everything created a heaviness and raised a number of questions.

Of course, 2,000 years is a huge amount of time and in many ways, we do not live in the same world. And yet, human nature being what it is, we do live in the same world dealing with the same human issues. In the church world today, there is much hand wringing about declining numbers. The pandemic helped to accelerate the decline. The questions that come up focus on the building…how can we get people to come or return, are we financially sound to keep our staff and keep the doors open, where are the families with children? That was not the focus in the earliest years of the church and certainly not of Jesus’ ministry. The shift really took off with Constantine and we haven’t looked back. Some in their little corners of the world did look back and refocus on the very beginning and the example set by Jesus, Saint Francis and Mother Theresa just to name two.

Yes, I am speaking in very general terms. There are certainly places in which the local church is still focused on the important issues…befriending the lonely (St. Lydia’s in New York City), providing housing for those in need (Holy Trinity Lutheran Church in Minneapolis, MN), and other communities that truly embody being the hands and feet of Christ out in the world. But there are communities that support the lavish lifestyle of their pastor or that only want to hear positive messages Sunday mornings and don’t want to be reminded of ongoing injustices in their backyard.

This “church crisis” has me wondering how we might refocus on the original call to care for others, to reconcile people to community. There’s much charity work being done, but charity is not justice but a bandage. Food pantries, though currently necessary, are stop gaps, they don’t do anything to change the systems that leaves so many needing food pantries on a regular basis. And yes, I volunteer at one. They meet a need that should be temporary and not a way of life for some. The church has lost its mission to go out and be among the suffering. We sit in our beautiful but emptier sanctuaries, wringing our hands about where everyone is, sending diapers and coats out into the world, but not necessarily sending out our hands and feet. Most stay where everything is nice and neat. Everything is bigger now and small steps feel really tiny, and yet seem to be the only way forward short of some major event.

The disconnect between the original message and the way of its messenger, and even the gatherings of the first couple of centuries is very real and hit hard this first semester. It left a heaviness on my heart. The church institution seems too big now for a seismic shift. It became part of the empire, though today it doesn’t wield the power it once had. Shifts will need to continue in individual corners. Congregations need to refocus energy to the original message, which is not to save people’s souls for Jesus after they die. Rather it is to restore human dignity and community now. The original message was radical then and is still radical. But we need to unbury it from all the Hallmark layers we thrown on it over the years.

So, with this still gnawing at my heart and soul, my second semester begins this week. But before classes officially begin, I will spend a day in an anti-racism workshop before I begin three theology courses and a course on spiritual formation. Beloved church, there is much work to be done on so many fronts, work that needs to be soaked in Love. Stop the hand wringing and go be in the world, each community shifting things in its corner.

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