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 essons from a seminarian who didn’t do it by the book.
by Don Payne, Denver Seminary
I spent a protracted, distracted time in seminary. I “squeezed” a three-year degree program into seven years. Along the way I transferred seminaries, withdrew and enrolled in a secular graduate program, returned, withdrew to pursue a business opportunity, returned part-time while fundraising for a Christian college, and finally returned full-time to finish.
My peers rushed past me on their career ladders while I tried to discern my direction. The longer I did not graduate, the more I panicked and felt inadequate.
More than once I heard notable Christian leaders remark that if seminarians did not know whether God called them to ministry, seminary was the wrong place to find the answer. While it seemed like I didn’t know what my calling was, I did know . . . just in an oblique sort of way.
Emotional Cartwheels
I entered seminary because I wanted to teach the Bible and theology. In the denomination that discipled me, all decisions were rooted in whether one was “called by God”— simple as that. Well, I never could figure that out. I just knew I loved Scripture, enjoyed communicating, and wanted to serve God.
|  | In seminary I had to address the issue of my own giftedness—or lack thereof. This was an adventure not shy on emotional cartwheels. The academic workload was demanding. But far more taxing was the recurrent internal wrestling match concerning why I was there: Who was I as a Christian? Was I a servant of others? What did theological education mean in my life?
Real Life Faith
Our efficiency-driven culture demands a precise definition of goals before we start the training process. This way we can “maximize” our education. Professional degree programs are designed to help those who know where they are going to get there on time and ready. The system has little sympathy for those who are using it (even unintentionally) to discover where they are going.
But for these people whose vocational journeys are potholed by diverse personal interests and questioning natures, I can offer hope.
I learned that faith is not an abstract, cognitive disposition. Faith finds “personality” by penetrating the issues of daily life. Faith may not immediately clarify complex questions.
Sometimes faith involves not just being compelled toward what must be done, but also eliminating lesser paths. Despite all my fears and misgivings about vocational ministry, I repeatedly realized that for me all other options would be second-rate.
True faith is never devoid of risk or doubt. It does not insulate us from the consequences of our ignorance.
Grace and Growth
My confused seminary path also taught me that ministry does not take place in ideal conditions. And its effectiveness does not depend on conditions.
Certainly my life would have been more convenient if I was more secure in my sense of calling before I made educational commitments. The harsh reality? I simply was not. The mystery of God’s grace is that it is not contingent on “getting it all right” before we start.
My struggle also built authenticity into my ministry. I serve people who frequently endure vocational, midlife, and identity crises. I have solidarity with people who face uncertainties.
|  | Hope from the Hindsight
As you continue in your ministry and theological education, get to know yourself as well as you can. And know God just as well. Get reliable feedback on your character, gifts, and abilities. But never assume that accumulating this data will allow you to circumvent the risk or pain of growth and discovery. That is illusion.
By all means avoid obviously questionable commitments. But it is not wise to wait until all questions are resolved and variables are nailed down. It may just be fear.
If I were to start over, knowing what I know now, I would be more focused. But I’m not starting over. I am right here, right now. And the meandering path of my preparation has great meaning. I’m not so sure I would change it. I’m not sure the people I serve would either. |
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 n interview with author Philip Yancey
Sometimes the best spiritual practices are the easiest to excuse—like not meditating on Scripture because you’ve already poured over it for 10 hours in preparation for your exegesis course. And when we do excuse them, we often wallow in guilt.
Philip Yancey, best-selling Christian author of What’s So Amazing about Grace, Finding God in Unexpected Places and Rumors of Another World, knows what it is like to desire discipline but fail at managing it. In a recent interview with Ministry Mentor, he openly talks about what disciplines you can’t live without during the seminary years and how to experience grace when you fail.
MM: What spiritual practices do you wish you had put in place earlier in life?
Philip Yancey: I believe in the two spiritual practices of 1) keeping a spiritual journal and 2) meeting with a spiritual director. But I must admit that I do neither!
I excuse the first by telling myself that I’m a writer, that most of what I think eventually ends up in my writing (a kind of spiritual journal), and that writing seems too much like work. Yet I wish I had taken up this practice long ago, making notes after each time I meet with God.
I also wish I had found a spiritual director long ago, one with whom I could have developed some continuity. I do have friends who provide a kind of accountability, but no one person who serves that role in any formal sense. I feel that as a loss.
What practices have been the most spiritually beneficial?
For as long as I can remember, I have begun the day by reading spiritually nourishing material, usually for 30 minutes to an hour. I also read the Bible regularly, and have a semi-consistent time of prayer. That has become a discipline I insist on. Whenever I think I’m too busy for it, I realize how much I need it. And, amazingly, when I do take the time, I get more done in a day than I would have if I had omitted it!
How should seminary students stay spiritually vital during the education years?
The Christian life should come with a warning label, “Do not practice alone.” I advise students to find a community—a prayer group, a Bible study group, or a church—that encourages honesty and vulnerability.
The church should be a place that rewards honesty; all too often, it seems to punish it. Yet I know of no more honest book than the Bible, so we have strong models for penetrating below the exterior to the real person underneath. God already knows our secrets. We must learn to trust God with what God already knows—and often other believers play a vital role in that process.
|  | You have written often about your fundamentalist upbringing and education. How does a student not let a fundamentalist perspective distort their calling?
I’ve concluded that the best pattern of all is to be raised under “law”—fundamentalist strictness—and then discover grace.
From my past I took away good Bible knowledge, a pattern of discipline, and a sensitive conscience (guilt can be a very good thing). Then, when I discovered God’s grace and love, it was revolutionary. I’ve been writing about it ever since.
The problem, though, is that many people never survive the period of strictness and law. They jettison the faith or limp through life, wounded.
I would encourage a student to sort through a “recycling” pile from the past, choosing what is worth saving or learning from, and moving away from the impediments to growth. Paul himself said the law was a “schoolmaster” to lead us to Christ. That’s our ultimate goal. |
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 hat is most important to you?
by Michael Arzie, Student, Multnomah Biblical Seminary
My story is a familiar one. I’m a full-time pastor, seminary student, husband, and father who has not figured out how to perfectly balance life. I wear many hats and am called many things. But as I’m pulled in many directions, I often see why I shouldn’t be impressed with my own wisdom but seek God’s will in all I do (Prov 3:5-8). During my four years of seminary, all the while ministering full-time and starting a family, I have found which paths lead to a healthy balance—even if they are sometimes a bit rocky.
|  | Making the Choice
With a young family as well as a full-time job, I have often felt overwhelmed by my studies. I’ve not always had adequate study time. I had to learn how to prioritize my schedule and keep the first things first. This was not easy. I began by writing out all my areas of responsibility and prayerfully ranking them. The tricky part was making sure the time I allotted to each priority matched its ranking.
I found it excruciating to put down my books and spend a couple hours with my family—even though I had two midterms the next day. But I had made a commitment before God to keep the first things first.
Maximizing Down Time
Out of nowhere an unscheduled evening sometimes appears. The temptation is to collapse, get nothing done, and feel guilty. I’ve learned that by keeping my priorities straight, I can take advantage of down time. Consider what priority you’ve been neglecting and give that evening to it. For me this often meant immersing myself in Greek rather than enjoying a movie night.
The Great Getaway
The best advice I received during seminary was to get away, free from distraction, and focus on the Lord. It doesn’t have to be for more than a day, and it doesn’t have to be more than a couple times a year. If this is not a priority, it becomes difficult to keep other priorities in line. In order to stay balanced it is important to schedule time away by yourself to focus on your priorities and talk to God about them.
|  | Also, one of the most important things for me to plan, finance, and commit to is vacation, which is critical to my family’s health. Keep these times relational and relaxing. Event-driven vacations are exhausting and leave me spinning.
A real vacation leaves me refreshed, encouraged, and closer to those who mean the most to me. |
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