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he foundation of spiritual formation.
by Greg Meland, Bethel Seminary, St. Paul, MN
“If you do two things in your time at seminary, you will have done much to ensure the possibility of sustaining a lifetime of effective ministry: establish an understanding of your own identity and widen your Christian worldview.”
Our students hear this from me at the beginning of their seminary journey. It seems simple, but I hope they are listening. I hope they understand that these are essential goals of graduate theological education and the contextual ministry experience.
In this lecture, which introduces parts of our spiritual formation process, I explain that the foundation of that formation is repetitive self-examination. First, we understand ourselves—then we can begin to understand others. In understanding others, we can expand our Christian worldview.
The peril in not finding and owning our true identities and expanding our perspectives is that local churches (and other ministry organizations) are more than willing to assign something for us.
Institutions, steeped in tradition, dogma, and religiosity, can demand conformity and rigidly limit new leaders’ actualization of their gifts, skills, and call to ministry. For someone who has not done the work, this seems an easy road to travel, but, inevitably, the road becomes impassable.
The Road to True Identity
Christian ministry is always about relationships—always. We thrive in these relationships when we are willing to see who we are, that which requires work, and by being bold enough to participate in the spiritual formation process.
Christian spiritual formation is not mysterious; it is simply our movement toward Christ-likeness. Nothing expands one’s perspective like using God-given gifts to serve those who need the kind of things we see Christ offering in the Gospel (e.g., Luke 4.18-19).
There are many tools for finding our true identities.
- There is no substitute for listening to God’s voice, which we all hear in different ways. Reading and meditating on Scripture, prayer, and journaling can all amplify God’s voice.
- There are a variety of psychological and developmental assessment instruments available which, when interpreted properly, can provide cross-sectional views of our uniquely created selves. In many cases, my students respond that God’s voice was clearly heard through interpretation of their assessments.
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- Telling our stories and examining closely how the pieces of our lives fit into the larger mosaic of all God’s people gives others the opportunity to speak into our lives through listening and sharing their stories. Including our relationship with him, God works through an endless variety of relationships to help us realize who we are.
- Mentors help us see that we can never be defined by our greatest achievements or greatest failures. They move us toward knowing that our true identity comes from what we do consistently well: those things for which we have been uniquely created. Conversely, they can show us our identity is also rooted in how we tend to our vulnerabilities: those things that detract from and destroy who God made us to be.
Mountains and valleys are part of the vocational ministry experience. The more we travel, the wider our perspective; how we climb and descend exposes our identity.
|  | | Through open and transparent relationships with God and others we begin to understand and become satisfied with our identity. Understanding this is a dynamic place that always needs tending. If we do the work well, we will know how to react properly, survive, and possibly even thrive in the lives of other people. We will be able to discern the needs that will allow us to be the presence of Christ in a world that desperately needs a Savior. |
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ow to connect while preparing for ministry
When asked, most adults would rate their college years as their top community experience—especially if they lived on campus. According to Randy Frazee, author of The Connecting Church and teaching pastor at Willow Creek in South Barrington, IL, a person is never more intimately connected with others by place and purpose than in college.
Yet, when we go on to graduate theological studies, our blithe, companion-rich college years are nowhere to be found. We have jobs. We do ministry. We go to our children’s soccer games. We have Greek to learn. We have yards to mow, groceries to buy, and bills to pay. Obligations often keep us from fully connecting.
But being disconnected from community can be spiritually dangerous. In a recent interview with Ministry Mentor, Frazee explains how and why you must keep community in the foreground of your life—not in the margins.
MM: How do you define community?
Randy Frazee: I start with the concept we see in Acts 2:42-44, where “all the believers met together in one place and shared everything they had.” In order to share community, I believe there are three things we must have in common: purpose, place, and possessions.
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Why is it important to share place?
My big message is that community revolves around the place that you live, because that’s where life happens. Without a sense of common place, you can’t get into each other’s lives enough to equal community.
But those of us born in the last 70 years, particularly in suburbia, don’t realize we’re missing a major element of community. We’re spatially separated. The big demise of suburbia is that our worlds have become fragmented. Historically, people shared tight geographical circles that allowed for frequent encounters—and this led to community.
What are the implications of shared place for theological students?
The reason I didn’t find community as a seminarian was related to place. Because I didn’t understand the importance of community, I bought a home with my wife 30 minutes away from campus. We thought we were going to have it so much better living in a home rather than in a little apartment on campus.
It turned out to be quite the opposite. Because I was spatially removed from my seminary community, my seminary experience was extremely weak. I was engaging in an intense study of the Bible, theology, and Christian ministry, but I was not experiencing it in community. And it produced a dangerous effect.
How so?
People who are not in community, by virtue of managing all the disconnected worlds that accompany owning a house in a place totally disconnected from the campus, have too much to manage. That includes making the mortgage payment. I got ahead of myself by both going to seminary and living the American dream. Because of that, I lacked that power that comes through the exchange of community.
How else can students stay whole while studying theology?
You have to develop a model you can sustain from the very beginning, setting boundaries as to what you will and will not do.
In Jesus’ teaching on the building of the house, he’s obviously referring to discipleship. But practically speaking, before you build a house, you calculate the resources that are necessary before you begin. That way you don’t get to the middle of it and have to stop because you don’t have a sustainable way to finish what you started.
Ultimately, you’re making room for life. Honestly, my life has been less stressful since seminary because now I’m in community.
We can’t approach theological studies as “It’s just going to be hard, and that’s just the way it is.” There has to be some thought regarding how you end up healthy at the end of the journey. |
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od’s instrument of healing
by Eva Bleeker, Dallas Theological Seminary
In my second year of seminary, I began an internship under Dr. Sue Edwards, an assistant professor at the school. Officially, she was (and still is) my mentor. We began to meet weekly to talk about life and to pray.
Dr Sue asked me this fall to assist her with speaking at several women’s retreats, and in my research for the events, I picked up Fearfully and Wonderfully Made, by Philip Yancey and a missionary surgeon, Dr. Paul Brand. Brand closely considers the apostle Paul’s use of the human body as a metaphor for the church (1 Corinthians 12:12).
Brand’s reflections gave me new appreciation for how the human body works. Consider the white blood cell. When the body is injured, white blood cells rush to the damaged area and begin repairs. When sickness or infection enters the body, a white blood cell stretches itself over the invading organism and absorbs the danger into itself.
|  | Reading Fearfully and Wonderfully Made prepared me for something I could not anticipate.
Healing Mercy
In October, my dad was diagnosed with an aggressive form of lymphoma. The fall semester was already tough. I felt I had more responsibility at school than I could handle. But none of my activities seemed optional. I plodded through my days, counting down to Thanksgiving break, when I could be with my dad.
During one of the retreats, I learned Sue’s father died of cancer when she was just a few years younger than I am now. During our weekly meetings, she knew exactly how to pray for me. When I called her at home, she knew what was wrong. She showered me with compassion.
Like the white blood cell, she rushed to the injury, making repairs and, if needed, absorbing the problem into herself.
In September, mentorship seemed like one more task on the résumé checklist. Now I see it as an instrument of God’s mercy and a proper function of a healthy body.
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When I asked her to help with my internship, my request did not include, “Should the need arise, will you be able to grieve with me in a meaningful way?” That’s the mercy part. That’s the body of Christ part. The head of the body, in his mercy, has used mentoring to protect and heal me. |
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