Last Day of Classes
Today was my last day of class in seminary. The last of 228 days of classes (not counting summer internships). The last of approximately 630 hours driving to and from classes.
Today was my last day of class in seminary. The last of 228 days of classes (not counting summer internships). The last of approximately 630 hours driving to and from classes. I was recently asked, “How has seminary changed you?” That’s a funny question, because so many people warned me as I prepared for this three-year journey – “Don’t let seminary change you!” It was strange to be asked that question. I had to wonder, how HAS it changed me? It’s hard to describe. I sat in silence for a while, thinking. My mind was blank for the longest time, and then the answer seemed to materialize out of that blank space. Seminary has given me permission to be myself.
For a long time, I thought good Christian women could only be meek and mild, quiet, calm, composed. So much of modern Christian literature for women described women in this way, and I thought my loud and fast-paced and often silly demeanor was unbecoming a Christian woman. But at seminary, I met so many vibrant Christian women who were more like me than I’d ever really encountered. And in our interpretations of scripture, I found that women in the Bible, while sometimes meek and mild, are so much more – SO much more than we give them credit for! Seminary gave me permission to stop trying to mold the “me” God created into something that I simply just am not. Seminary reminded me that I’m made in God’s image, that God calls me good, and that includes EVERY part of me.
I also thought for a long time that a good Christian didn’t ask questions, but knew all the answers. Good Christians, so I believed, didn’t wonder why certain stories were in the Bible, didn’t question God’s goodness, didn’t express concern over God’s plan. So I thought seminary would give me all the answers, but thank heavens I was wrong about that too. Seminary taught me that it is good and holy and important to ask questions, to read scripture with an open mind and an open heart, to question what troubled me, to seek out new interpretations and explanations. My burning questions and refusal to blindly accept interpretations is a deep part of me that I’ve been given permission to embrace.
And for most of my adult life, I thought I’d only be wife, mom, and teacher. But my seminary experience has opened my eyes up to new dimensions of who I am, that I’d never anticipated. I’m still a wife and mom, but my love and calling for those roles are deeper than they’ve ever been. At the same time, seminary has forced me to take a step back in my family, which has given my husband the opportunity to be an even more involved father, and we have all benefited from his extra love and grace and help. And it has allowed Ashton the opportunity to become more independent and understand himself better apart from me. This has been a bigger blessing than I could have ever anticipated. And I’m still a teacher, and the things I’m passionate about teaching has expanded wider than I could’ve imagined. But I’m also so much more: I’m a writer. I’m a historian. I’m a translator. I’m a theologian.
My seminary experience hasn’t been perfect. No human institution could ever create something perfect, anyway. But I’m so grateful for it. I’m grateful for the people I’ve met, for the things I’ve learned, for the ways I’ve grown. And when it comes down to it, I’m grateful that seminary has changed me. I’m grateful for the permission to be my bold, loud, curious, transformed, COMPLETE self. See ya one more time at graduation, Columbia!