Training in Righteousness
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Entries in Seminary Notes (76)


Should we repent daily?

This week, in my theology class, we studied conversion. We discussed the essential elements of conversion, repentance and faith. The principle of repentance is everywhere in Scripture. The idea that we must turn from our sin and turn to God shows that active repentance is not just one direction. We turn away from something toward something. When Jesus came with his call of "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand" (Matt 4:17), he meant to turn away from sin and turn to God. Without repentance there is no conversion.

What does it look like for someone to turn toward a life in Christ as opposed to living a life apart from him? At times, I wonder if I live like I've repented. I have been wondering about the reality of a daily repenting. We sin daily, should we not repent daily? Yes, we have full forgiveness in Christ, but how often do we presume upon that forgiveness? How easy it to let little things creep in? Apathy, bitterness, selfishness, the fascination with the world.

In conjunction with this week's study, we also looked at union with Christ. Our union comes through the Holy Spirit. Our spiritual vitality comes from the indwelling presence of the Holy Spirit. Jesus is present with us through the Spirit. Do I reflect that? I often wonder if I don't look a lot like everyone else out there. And I don't mean to suggest that I am somehow special, but I do think that being a Christian should mean I do not follow the ways of the world. I think that is getting harder and harder to achieve. Attempts to live distinctly from the world are often difficult to put into practice, because it can become legalism quite quickly. We may feel apprehensive to make choices that distinguish from the world, because inevitably someone will accuse us of legalism. We may even use the fear of legalism as an excuse to do something that is ultimately questionable. 

Every now and then, the blurry line between the world and the church discourages me. And I wonder how I contribute to that. How do I communicate that I have repented of this world and turned toward God? And we must turn from the world. As entertaining and enticing as it can be, it is not the place for us. If we are one with Christ, we ought to feel alien to it. That is a hard thing to understand and make sense of. But I think it's a worthwhile matter to consider. And I think part of it is a daily decision to place our allegiance to the kingdom of God and not the world.


The Legacy of Good Teachers

If you were to ask me what my preferred method of education is, I would likely say that if you can homeschool, do it; especially the Kindergarten to 8th grade years. But at the same time, I have to say that I am so thankful for the teachers I had who left me with enduring lessons. If you can leave high school with the memory of one or two teachers who left their mark, I say that is a good thing. As a 52 year old student, I am thankful for lessons given to me by teachers I have had.

First, my high school chemistry teacher, Mr. Lunn. I didn't learn a whole lot of chemistry from him (not his fault), and he was often too technical for a bunch of 10th graders. But his suggestion of study methods, borne out of his own university years, was one of the best I received. Mr. Lunn shared with us how in university, he would buy spiral bound notebooks and just write and write his notes until the material was imbedded into his brain. I followed that advice, and today, even with many of the technical ways of note-taking, I still rely on notebooks. I was up early this morning, preparing to write a commentary on the difference between the Protestant view of justification and what is in the Council of Trent (in two double-spaced pages, no less), and I did a lot of writing by hand, and intend to do more. It has always been a useful study method. Thank you, Mr. Lunn.

Second, my high school history teacher, Mr. O'Hearne. One of the best I had. A kind man, and a wonderful teacher of Canadian history. Mr. O'Hearne taught me the principle of historical significance. For someone who became a history major, this was valuable advice. His question was always, "Why is it important?" He taught me about looking at the present reflectively: how did we get here? what forces in the past directed us? Mr. O'Hearne was also sensitive. That year I had him was a hard year, my last year of high school. I had just moved to that school from across the country. He told me it was a huge thing to have happened, and I should not be so hard on myself when I had struggles. Thank you, Mr. O'Hearne.

Third, Miss Dockerty, my 10th grade math teacher. She taught me the value of getting help. Me and math? Not good friends. Not since 3rd grade. She arranged for me to have a tutor, and because of that I did not fail math that year. We often try to muddle through on our own, and it takes a sympathetic teacher to reach out and help. I was resistent at first, mostly because of my pride. She persisted in suggesting help. Thank you, Miss Dockerty.

Fourth, Professor Westhues, my first year sociology professor. He taught me what true learning is. He always said if we can see where someone else is coming from, and how they got to their conclusion, while disagreeing, and maintaining our own conclusions, we have experienced true learning. As a new Christian in a class where one of the topics was "The Sociology of Jesus," I struggled with the content from a faith perspective, but I understood why he had arrived at his conclusions. I'm finding his encouragement about that matter very helpful as I study theology. Thank you, Dr. Westhues.

Good teachers, whether they are your parents or someone else, leave marks on students, even when they don't realize it. And one of the greatest gifts a student can receive is a teacher who first of all loves her subject matter, and second of all, loves to learn. I know that to be true about those four teachers whose memory stays with me. I am positive that my current prof, Dr. Fowler, will be among that list some day.


The blessing of an unchurched home

My husband and I had two very different experiences growing up. He was a from-the-cradle church kid. Church twice on Sunday; prayer meeting on Wednesday; youth club on another night. Vacation Bible School, church camp, going to Christian concerts; he was saturated in Christian culture. Not so for me.

I love my parents, and they were the exact parents God wanted me to have to be who I am today, but Jesus Christ was mostly a curse word in my home. There was absolutely no spiritual influence. No prayer before meals; no church on Christmas or Easter; no Bible stories. The only evidence of Christianity in our home was an unread Bible and a crude little manger scene taken out at Christmas. The first time I heard the creation story was in my Kindergarten classroom, and after that, over the years, I longed to know who God was. I had my times of going to Sunday school with a friend, being taken to Pioneer Girls with a friend, and being given a Bible by the Gideons in 5th grade. By the time I was 14, I felt frustration that I knew so little. There was no one to help, and I was left to my own devices and a public library. If you think reading a systematic theology is hard when you're a Christian, try reading a Catholic one (I was baptized as a Catholic, so that's the route I took) when you're 14 years old and you have no idea what you're reading. Fourteen was not a good year for me, but God meant it for good.

One of the struggles I have often had on the occasions when I have taught young people is relating to kids who grew up in the church. And sometimes, that goes for my own kids. I just cannot wrap my head around why someone would not want to take the heritage of faith being offered to them. I have confronted many apathetic teens for whom the gospel has become a drag, and I can't relate. And it's not just teens who are like that. Many adults who grew up in the church are similarly lukewarm. Maybe it's because I'm an all or nothing kind of person, but I can't understand why when we're given this amazing grace, this unity through Christ with the God of the Universe, why some don't seek it eagerly. 

As I continue in seminary, I am learning so much, and seeing so much more to learn. Not everyone needs or should go to seminary. But the drive to know God better doesn't cost a thing, and it's easily satisfied these days: cheap books, free resources, and freedom to worship without fear. Yes, there are changes in negative ways with regard to toleration for Christians, but we're nowhere near the persecution for our faith stage in North America. There is disinterest in the things of God even among Christians. I've heard Christians talk more about politics than they ever do about God. 

When we are denied something, it becomes more precious. I don't look back on my life in an unchurched home as something that set me back or crippled me in anyway. It made me appreciate teaching when it was given to me. I continue to appreciate it. My school is not famous. It's no Westminster Theological Seminary or Southern Baptist Seminary. My prof isn't famous, but he's a great teacher, and a godly man. I'm so thankful for him showing up every week to teach. And I'm thankful for the other profs and for the president of our school who care that the school continues to do what it does.

It is a wonderful thing to have been raised in a godly home. But that on its own is no guarantee for a godly life. Who would have thought that I would someday end up as a 52 year old seminary student? I'm thankful for those years when I had to look hard. I'm thankful it was not all handed to me. It made me appreciate the opportunities I was given.


Trade-offs in seminary timing

I'm taking two classes this semester, both taught by the same professor. Perhaps that is why I keep getting things mixed up in my head. Plus, I have classmates in both classes. This week in Theological Foundations, we are studying the Holy Spirit, something which includes reading a chapter from John MacArthur's Charismatic Chaos, and a chapter from D.A. Carson's Showing the Spirit. Carson's writing is much denser, and requires a lot more concentration, but it is worth the effort.

In my Moral Theology class, we are studying euthanasia and physician-assisted death. I have a case study this week to respond to as well as coming up with a response for our weekly discussion question, where I have to decide between two competing views of whether or not withdrawing water and nutrition from someone in a persistent vegetative state.

There have been times over the past week when I have forgotten which assignment I'm working on. Moral Theology is delivered partially through online forum and class time, whereas Theological Foundations is a weekly class. As I was reading about the persistent vegetative state matter, I was perplexed about a few things, and I comforted myself, "Well Dr. Fowler will go over this in class this week." Um, no. We don't meet on campus weekly. It was not like this when I was a first year university student and juggling five classes. I had an easier time remember what was what.

Yes, concentration can be affected as we age. The long and short of it is that for women, decreasing estrogen can affect concentration. Thankfully, I can still work very effectively in the morning, so while it's not always fun getting up at 5:00 a.m. (now that puppy has re-established my morning wake-up time) those two hours of work I get in before my husband gets up are usually very helpful.

A few days ago, I was reflecting on how different it may have been had I decided to attend seminary when I was younger. Instead of staying home with the kids, I would have taken a class here while they were in school. Would I have found it easier? Well, with small kids, I doubt it. The financial burden would have made it difficult as well. Had I attended seminary before having children, while time and concentration may have been better than now, would I have appreciated it?

Being an older student has its benefits. Not only do I have a bit more life experience to bring into some discussions (which is becoming evident in Moral Theology), but waiting for it as I have has made me appreciate this opportunity. I can't speak for younger students, but I know for myself that when I was younger, I probably would not have felt the same way. As we get older, we begin to appreciate more than things are not necessarily owed to us, but are, rather, gifts from God. Furthermore, because I am an older student, and I have been studying the Bible all along, my core Bible knowledge is very helpful. Also, I have been studying theology in the past few years, and that has helped in coming to terms with new concepts we're learning.

Unlike some younger students, I don't know as if I see anything in the future for me beyond getting a piece of paper that says I have completed the requirements for a degree. But the knowledge I am gaining will have been worth it. And if I had been a younger student, perhaps I would not have felt that way.


Seminary gets me out of the echo chamber

For many years, I knew very few women who liked to discuss theology; who were even all that interested in it. Yes, there were women I attended Bible study with, but I had a frustration with some of the directions the studies went: more about me than about God.

When I began homeschooling and visiting a parent forum, I met other like-minded women. Then I began blogging. Then there was Twitter and Facebook, and the rest, as they say, is history. Over time, though, I am afraid that I have been tempted to stay more within the circles with whom I agree, and shown reluctance to interact with those I disagree with. At times, there was criticism directed to those who went outside the circle. And in true female fashion, there was often the cold shoulder to the one who dared question the status quo. That discouraged me. I didn't want to be frozen out or or criticized. I'm afraid I have tended to live in a bit of an echo chamber, and it's something I'm trying to remedy.

It is not an quick or easy process. I am a creature of habit. Mentioning that I agree with something an egalitarian says may cause people to question if I have abandoned complementarianism (I am wondering if that word has gone the way of "evangelical" and has become meaningless) or even worse, *whisper* become a feminist. In the past couple of years, I have braved the waters and sampled from voices outside of the echo chamber in which I often take refuge. It's been very educational, and I have lost my fear that I will spontaneously combust if I read an egalitarian writer.

Going to seminary has really helpled in that regard. We are encouraged to read outside where our convictions may lie. We are encouraged to evaluate our presuppositions. My theology prof, in relation to the Trinity controversy, suggested we read all views, not just the ones by the popular writers. In addition, being in seminary takes me out of a strictly female, married with children venue. 

My theology class this semester has more women than lasts semester: there are five of us. One of the ladies is not originally from North America. There are men young enough to be my children, men with young families, retired men, and single women. It is more ethnically diverse than my own local church. This is what I like about this class. There are varieties of opinions and backgrounds. Yes, we all chose to attend this institution, and that probably says something about what we believe, but there are still differences in experience, and that means we all see things a little differently. And we can learn from one another. There are writers I read, both male and female, who attract large audiences to their writing who could learn from my classmates. And everyone is gracious, respectful, and kind. That isn't always the case when one gets her theology talk fix from social media.

Some may say I'm just in a different echo chamber, and that's partly true. All of us in the class are focused on a similar goal: getting a theological education. Every private group runs the risk of becoming an echo chamber. However, this group has provided a breath of fresh air for me, and I'm thankful to God for being able to interact regularly.