Education for Ministry--a Graduation "Speech"

[Tuesday night, I will finish the four-year Education for Ministry (EfM) program of the School of Theology at the University of the South.  EfM is designed to equip students for ministry, including lay ministry, by a program that includes a year studying the Old Testament, a year studying the New Testament, a year studying Church History, and a year looking at theological choices.  Our mentor has given us a final assignment: "Where are you now? Where do you hope to go because of what has happened here? How is that different from where you were going four years ago?" I decided to pose my thoughts as if I were making a speech at our "graduation ceremony"--in fact, since we have no grades, we are all valedictorians and could make an online speech.  Here at least, is mine.  And, because it's only an online "speech", I don't have to worry about length!]

In looking back across the last four years, I want to express my gratitude to our two mentors, Christina Brennan Lee (my first year) and John Sucke (all four years).  When I subbed for John one night a few weeks ago, I realized that there was an awful lot of work preparing and keeping everyone involved in the conversation.  I also want to thank those who have made at least part of the journey with me--Desiree Johnson and Marlyn Neary, for all four years; Chaz Riggi and Vicki Speigel, for three years; Jean Newland and Lyn Stabler, for two years; and Mike Brady, Nancy Breck, Heather Rollins, McGee Lorren, Rebecca Weiner Tompkins, Jane Hill, Patricia Lewis, Andy Gill, Derin Thompson, and Wes Marston, one year each.  Although we have never laid eyes on each other or heard each other's voices, they have become dear friends who have supported each both in the growth of our ministries and in the trials of life, as when I had spinal fusion surgery two years ago. 

A few years ago, when I contemplated my post-Air Force life (now about three and a half years away), I presumed I would find a way to practice government contract law part-time from my home here in Georgia.  I had vague (and expensive) ideas about fixing up space in the workshop behind our house to serve as an office.  But I could never seem to muster much enthusiasm, before two events changed my thoughts in a major way.

First, in 2004, our new rector, Father Bill Anderson, asked me to take on the ministry of a verger--a lay person who assists at the altar in the liturgy.  This doesn't necessarily lead to ordained ministry, but it did lead me to begin to reexamine my future.  Then in 2005, I attended my law school class' 25th reunion--my first--where I learned that one of my classmates, David Meginniss, had given up his law practice, gone to seminary at the University of the South, and was now an Episcopal priest.  More food for thought.

Instead of the sole practitioner legal practice that I really didn't want to do, I began thinking more about filling a role with the Church after my retirement.  I discussed my thoughts with Father Anderson, who arranged for me to talk with our Bishop during one of his Sundays at our church.  Bishop Alexander was generally supportive and encouraging. Then, in the summer of 2008, the Diocese opened an application period for the Diaconate.  I found that three years of EfM or an equivalent was needed to apply, so obviously the time wasn't right for me yet.

I had heard of EfM and was interested, but the nearest place where it was offered was in Atlanta--100 miles away!  I had tried other ways to learn through the Internet.  The best I found was Virtual Theology.net, a site run by two Church of England priests that contains a series of lectures, not intended for theologians, on theology.  I highly recommend it. 

But, at almost the same time I learned of the requirement for EfM, I learned that there was an online version that I could take.  I was put in touch with John Sucke, who told me how to connect on Tuesday nights and I was on my way.

What have I learned from EfM?

• Our Year 1 detailed study of the Old Testament actually clarified and made understandable to me contradictions in the texts of which I already was aware. To the extent that I had considered it (not a great deal), I had somewhat assumed that the Bible had been written sequentially from Genesis to Revelation, with each book being written at one time by one writer. In Year 1, we learned that the earlier books were probably edited and redacted over centuries to reflect changes in the relationship of the people of Israel and their God. Although I had never particularly believed that the words of the text were literally true as statements of fact, I hadn't been able to reconcile the contradictions.
• In Year 2 we turned our focus on the New Testament.  We learned that the first books of the New Testament were not the Gospels, but were some of Paul's letters.  In fact the Gospels were written well after Jesus' resurrection and, despite its placement as the first Gospel, Matthew was not likely written first, Mark was.  We also learned that Paul's letters weren't normally abstract treatises on theological subjects, they were written with specific issues involving the community of believers he was addressing.  (We should be thankful that the church in Corinth had so many issues that he felt the need to write so much!)  As in the Old Testament, context is critical and pulling phrases out of context is usually not illuminating.
• With Year 3 we looked at the history of the church up until the time of the American Revolution. We learned about the early heresies, such as Gnosticism and Montanism, the Church Fathers, including Irenaeus, and the movements toward Monasticism.  We looked at the Reformation (or perhaps I should say Reformations as they differed in their nature from country to country, and sometimes within a country).  We studied our own Anglican tradition and considered its offshoot, Methodism.  To the extent that I had thought about it, I had assumed to church theology was fairly monolithic up to the Reformation (and I was a History minor!).  I could have scarcely been more wrong.
• Year 4 was entitled "Theological Choices".  We completed our review of church history, looking at events of the 19th and 20th centuries.  We considered the rise of fundamentalism and of liberation theology.  We addressed the pluralistic nature of Western society and non-Christian religions.  One thing I noticed is that it seems that all religions are attempting to transcend our current existence--to say that this truly isn't all that there is.  (That, from a religious perspective, is a great flaw of Marxism.  To a true Marxist, this life is all that there is.)

Over the four years, I have come to believe that we need to look at the Bible differently than we often do.  Even when we say we don't believe the Bible is literally true, we think in just that way.  We try to reconcile conflicting texts into a single narrative, never considering whether the original writers ever intended such a thing.  We also have trouble with the difference between "truth" and "fact" or, rather, accepting that they aren't necessarily the same thing.  We classify everything these days into fact or fiction and if it isn't factually correct, we say that it is fiction and isn't true.  In Biblical times, no such clear distinction necessarily existed.  People had no difficulty accepting that a writing might not be factual, but could still present truth.  While the Bible can and does contain historical events, I now believe that in many cases it was intended to present theological truths without necessarily being a history book.

In fact, Jesus did that frequently, telling stories that were never intended to describe historical events to make theological points.  He and we call them parables and we seem to have no difficulty accepting that there likely wasn't a historical Good Samaritan, for example.  I believe that many of the stories of the Old Testament are parables.  Even when they may not describe factual events, they describe theological truths about how the people of Israel understood their relationship with God. 

Also, EfM has taught me to begin to think about my faith.  I credit this more to the weekly discussions I have had with my classmates over the last four years than to the weekly readings.  It would be untrue to say that we have been monolithic in our beliefs, but having to explain and (at times) defend my thoughts before a friendly audience has improved and deepened them.  If I could somehow interview the Paul of 2008, I think I would find that I haven't made any dramatic U-turns, but I have begun to see nuances and complexity in Christian theology that I likely didn't know was there before.  Also, by talking and listening to people, I am sure I have been better able to understand faith as it relates to real people making their way through life and not so much as a collection of abstract principles.

So, where am I now?

Besides the obvious--four years older and hopefully, at least four years wiser--I remain a Christian who feels called to practice his faith every day.  I feel that God calls us to be ministers of reconciliation between ourselves and other people and between ourselves and God.  As a practical matter, I must combine that with my full-time job for another three and a half years until I can retire.  I recognize that I have learned a great deal through EfM and, perhaps as important if not more so, I am fully aware that there is so much that I don't know and will not know in this life.  (I think the most dangerous type of Christian is the one who thinks he or she has God all figured out!)  My daily goal is to continue to learn through self-study and whatever other ways present themselves and to do my best in my interactions with others to treat every person with dignity and respect.

Where do I hope to go because of EfM and how is that goal different than when I began?

My goals haven't altered drastically over the last four years.  I still plan to devote a share of my retirement years (I will be only 60 with hopefully a span of years ahead of me) to the church in whatever role God calls me to fulfill.  I plan to apply for the ordination process the next time the Diocese takes applications, probably next year after our new Bishop (to be elected on Saturday) gets settled in.  However that plays out, I can see a ministry here in our community, helping the poor and marginalized to be recognized and helped, always in the context of the church.  One change, not necessarily because of EfM, is that I have come to focus more on the diaconate than the priesthood.  I think this is for two reasons, one positive and one somewhat negative.  The positive one is that the ministry of connecting the church with the world is traditionally connected with the diaconate and that is where I see my calling.  The somewhat negative reason is that this Diocese requires candidates for the priesthood to attend seminary in residence for three years.  In where I am in life, I don't see that as a realistic prospect.  As my priest-in-charge has wisely counseled me, don't focus on what I could not do by not being a priest, but focus on what I could do by being a deacon.  No matter how it turns out, I look forward to the journey with hope and faith.

Tuesday night will be hard.  My closest analogy is to the end of my law school days and moving on from my relationships with my classmates.  But looking back across the years to 1980, I can't recall that I recognized that at that time.  I think I was too young to value those relationships as I should have.  I can only give thanks to God for the reconnecting of those bonds in recent years through reunions and modern things like Facebook.  But now I'm old enough to fully understand that, even though we may well keep in touch through e-mail and Facebook and a nascent EfM Alumni Association, it will not be the same, and we will likely not all be connected in a discussion again.  I expect as I type my final comments into the Blackboard system (I won't miss that system!), the pride and elation I feel at successfully completing EfM will be overwhelmed by the pain of parting.  I suspect I won't be the only one.

One of my final EfM tasks was to provide an opening prayer for our next-to-last session last week.  We all have done that over the last four years.  I had always found a prayer that I thought fit the occasion, but this time I wrote my own.  I reproduce it here.  May God be with all of my EfM colleagues over the last four years for all the years to come!

Father,

As we approach the end of another academic year,
We thank you for the opportunity to study and grow together in the knowledge of you and your love of your children,
And we thank you for the bonds of affection that have grown between us;
As we go forth into the world,
Be with us whether we are merely parting for the summer or completing our time together,
Bless us and our loved ones and keep us and them in health,
Help us to remember that the search for knowledge, wisdom, and understanding never end,
Guide us to discern our own vocations to serve you,
And help us to use the knowledge that we have gained to bring forward your Kingdom;
All this we ask in your name, and in the names of your Son and the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

Farewell, Newspapers?

I read the news stories yesterday that the New Orleans Times-Picayune and three newspapers in Alabama would reduce their print frequency to a few days a week and cut a few (a lot?) employees.  Our own local Telegraph of Macon, Georgia, has reduced the size of its Monday and Tuesday editions to the point you can almost see through them.

I tend to straddle the electronic divide--I'm comfortable with the internet (to put it mildly!) but I still have an attachment to hard copy newspapers, magazines, and books.  (I haven't yet surrendered to the suggestions of my friends and gotten a Kindle.)  But the story caused me to think back to old newspapers I remember that are gone.

When I lived in Florida in the '60s, we read the afternoon papers Miami News, Orlando Evening Star, and the Cocoa Tribune.  The News disappeared in 1988, the Evening Star (which I delivered for a time) in 1973, and the Tribune merged into its newer morning sibling Today, now Florida Today.  Then we moved to Houston, where we had the morning Houston Post and the afternoon Houston Chronicle.  Years after we left, in 1995, the Chronicle absorbed the Post and switched to the morning.  When we moved to Springfield, Illinois, in 1970, we had the morning Illinois State Journal and afternoon Illinois State Register, both papers of some antiquity.  They have since merged into a morning State Journal-Register.

The carnage doesn't stop there.  In my mother's hometown of Mobile, Alabama, we had the morning Mobile Register and afternoon Mobile Press.  Now (since 1997) there's just the morning Press-Register, soon to be a three day per week paper.  When we lived in San Antonio, we had the San Antonio Light and the San Antonio Express-News.  The Light went out in 1993.

I don't know that there's an answer to this.  I don't want to be like King Canute and try to order the tide to stay out, but I fear that something valuable is being lost. 

I did note that the Times-Picayune and the Alabama papers are owned by Advance Publications, which has already done something similar to its papers in Michigan.  Here's a comment to an article in today's Washington Post on the reductions:

As an Ann Arborite, I've experienced the Newhouse [the billionaire family that owns Advance Publications] model first-hand. And here's what's not being mentioned, or glossed over, in the press coverage: they don't just reduce their print frequency, they completely shut down the company that published the old paper, fire all the employees, including every reporter and editor, tnen launch a "new" company to publish the online website and new "paper product" (that's what they called it here).

Some of the former paper's staff are offered jobs at the new company, at significantly reduced salaries. But the size of the newsroom staff is only a small percentage of the former newspaper's, and most of them are newcomers--some recent college graduates, others with less-than-stellar career paths, plus local "community contributors"--i.e. amateurs who write for little or no payment.

Here in Ann Arbor, that's meant a serious decline in reporting quality. In the couple of years since its laucnch, most of the experienced reporters who started at the new company have bailed--many to the Detroit Free Press--leaving behind a revolving dooor of inexperienced journalists, freelancers and amateurs.

Investigative and high-quality "beat" reporting have nearly vanished. The website's lead stories seem, for the most part, seemed designed to draw the most page views from outraged commenters, without regard to their importance, while the content-thin, twice-weekly paper product primarily reprints current web stories, and has become little more than a subscription-based "shopper" for carrying advertising supplements from major chain retailers.

All this may be a reasonable survival strategy for the Newhouse company, but here in Ann Arbor it's meant the death of anything resembling serious jounalism. That's what New Orleans has to look forward to.