I started this blog with the intention of consistently blogging about my experiences in seminary. When I sent the link to my mom, she said, "Are you going to actually update it?" I was offended! Of course I'll update it!
...and then classes started.
Today marks the last day of classes for my first two weeks of seminary. It's not a significant date to celebrate, per se, but it is the morning when I felt that I had enough assignments under control to write here.
The first week of classes was this overwhelming, terrifying time of reading these 25-page syllabi, wondering how on earth I will ever be able to read all of those sources! I actually teared up last weekend when trying to start my Pentateuch homework. Week one. First weekend of homework. And I teared up.
Week two has proved to be much more affirming. It's like the professors needed to lay down the law and then show their grace. Sounds a little bit like God. I feel like I am supposed to be here. I know that I am now in graduate school and I have a lot (a LOT) of work ahead of me, but this is most definitely where I am supposed to be. God has put me in this place and I trust that He'll help me through it. I read a quote the other day that said something like, "I know God won't give me anything I can't handle. I just wish He wouldn't trust me so much." Thank you, Mother Teresa. You hit it on the head.
“You are the legacy.” These words held such power as Dr. Ralph Klein addressed the LSTC congregational community in his sermon on Wednesday, September 15, 2010. The Ralph W. and Marilyn R. Klein Chair of Old Testament was established this year, announcing Dr. Esther Menn as the first seat holder in said chair. While he preached to all of us, he specifically addressed his five charming grandsons when he used the words, “You are the legacy.” The tears welled in my eyes as I heard him tell them to speak to the future Klein Chair professor, fifty years from now, and tell him or her about Nana and Poppa. I was so moved by watching him share this moment, which recognized his esteemed scholarship and generosity, with his five young boys. Part of me wished that I was one of his grandchildren, being a part of that legacy. I’m not though. I am, however, part of the team that is called to minister to his legacy. I may never have one of the Klein children in Sunday School or sitting in a pew in my parish, but I pray that I will be a mentor for other children, inspiring them to find God in the world. We are called to empower and encourage the future generations of our church. I pray that God blesses Dr. Klein’s legacy and teaches me how to better serve His children.
I should also add that Dr. Klein is my professor for Pentateuch and Wisdom. I didn't quite realize how well-known and respected he is until the service that honored his gift to the seminary. Well, actually, I didn't connect that he was the one with the chair until Monday, when I looked at him, opened my email again, read the email about the chair, and looked at him. I'm taking an introductory bible course with one of the world's most revered Old Testament scholars. Yesterday, in class, we were discussing the curses of the fall (the point where Adam and Eve ate the apple in the Garden of Eden). He asked us to refer to Genesis in our bibles and he began reading from his bible. He was reading from a large, weathered bible, that had silver duct tape on the binding. It's well-worn, as an Old Testament scholar's bible should be, I suppose. He was reading and discussing the words that explained these curses. Reading our English translations of the bible really doesn't do justice to the Hebrew or Greek. For example, in the Creation story, the actual translation refers to plural gods at one point. As in, the council of gods decided to make man. That's a bit different than the monotheism that we believe. Regardless, as he was reading, I noticed that he was at the back of his bible. I couldn't figure out how he was so far back, when, even with my limited theological study, I KNOW that Genesis is in the beginning of the bible. He set his bible down. He was reading it in Hebrew. Fluently. The man was reading Genesis directly from Hebrew and pulling out the slight nuances in words from our English translations. I was in shock. I am new to this "scholarly" world, but...wow.
I continue to look around this campus/university/community/place and stand in awe at the awesomeness of the people that surround me. Yes, there are certainly the characters that will probably make me want to yank my hair out, but there are so many talented people! I hear beautiful voices, harmonizing naturally and easily, in chapel. I see people hugging, high-fiving, sharing the peace, and using whatever physical touch to show genuine care and concern. One of my classmates brought a pita to Greek class the other day and passed it around. He said, "Bread for the journey," to be funny. But really, there we were, the junior class (minus those who took Greek in undergrad), passing pita bread around, communing with one another. It was bread for the journey. It was the bread for the journey through Greek, but we are responsible for sharing bread through the journey of seminary and life. Someday, we'll be pastors, as scary as that is. We'll see each other at synod assemblies or youth gatherings. We'll be bishops together. We'll work for the Lutheran World Federation together. We'll be bread for the journey for one another. I look forward to scampering off and getting a cup of coffee in the middle of a boring conference, asking Drew how his church is going and how his soul is. I look forward to seeing Emily instated as the Old Testament Chair at a divinity school worthy of her knowledge. I look forward to lifelong relationships with all of them.
Gracious God,
Just as you provided new life after flooding the earth, promising to never again destroy your precious creation, you have provided us bread for the journey. We are learning together, finding space to be a community and to stand as individuals. Give us the discernment to know when we need both. Give us the discipline to get up and walk away, if we need to be alone. Bring your peace upon our hearts and minds, to know that you are always present. All of this I ask for in your son's precious name...Amen.
Namaste.
Meredith
No comments:
Post a Comment