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When I got the call to ministry early in my undergrad, I hated the fact that I probably had to go seminary. That might strike those of who know me now as a bit surprising given my current love of reading, learning, and teaching. You have to understand, though, that I was anxious to do something. As soon as I caught the bug—for preaching, for sharing, for leading others into the Scirptures—a slow burn began in my bones that turned into a flaming ache each week that I couldn’t preach. As much as I loved hearing the Word preached with passion, wisdom, and skill by my pastor—skill and wisdom I had the wisdom to know I didn’t possess yet—there were many weeks it was painful to sit and listen instead of walking up to the podium myself. Sitting in classrooms and libraries for a few years just to get a shot at it was just too much for my 19-year-old soul to handle.

For a bit, I contemplated simply trying to get hired at a church and diving into the work, reading on the side. I mean, I’d grown up in churches and was a quick read, so why not? Why not just jump in head-first and pick it up as you go? It’s not like I hadn’t seen God powerfully use many pastors who don’t have formal seminary training before. Why not me? There was even a brief season that a couple of friends of mine toyed with the idea of simply beginning a service for our friends, that might turn into a church eventually. Of course, the idea fizzled and died, but it haunted me for a couple of years afterwards.

A turning point came for me in a summer philosophy writing course at UCI. Our instructor had us read Dostoevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov—an assignment for which I owe him a life-long debt. Towards the beginning of the narrative we meet one of the brothers, the main protagonist, Alyosha. Alyosha is the youngest and the most spiritual of the three brothers. We learn that as a young man of nineteen, he decides to petition his father for permission to leave his current studies and join a monastery to devote himself to the pursuit of God and holiness. In explaining Alyosha’s apparently impulsive decision, Dostoevsky makes this arresting observation:

I will simply repeat what I already said above: he set out upon this path only because at the time it alone struck him and presented him all at once witht he whole ideal way out for his soul struggling from darkness to light. Add to this that he was partly a young man of our time—that is, honest by nature, demanding the truth, seeking it and believing in it, and in that belief demanding immediate participation in it with all the strength of his soul, demanding an immediate deed, with an unfailing desire to sacrifice everything for this deed, even life. Although, unfortunately, these young men do not understand that the sacrifice of life is, perhaps, the easiest of all sacrifices in many cases, while to sacrifice, for example, five for six years of their ebulliently youthful life to hard, difficult studies, to learning, in order to increase tenfold their strength to serve the very truth and the very deed that they loved and set out to accomplish—such sacrifice is quite often almost beyond the strength of many of them. —The Brothers Karamazov, Fyodor Dostoevsky, trans. Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky, pg. 26

This passage struck me with great force—I felt as if I had heard the voice of God speaking through the dead Russian, encouraging me towards patience, resilience, and the courage to sacrifice, not my life, but at least a few years to learning in order to rightly divide the Word of God and shepherd God’s people. I knew that since God had gifted me with the possibility and the capability of pursuing further study, I would be negligent and, in some ways, selfish in my need for the immediate “deed”, if I robbed any future church I served of that “tenfold strength” to serve them faithfully. I had to die to my own desire to feel justified in my call now so that I might fully give myself to the Church fully in the future.

And so I went to seminary. And I studied in my courses. And I worked a couple of normal jobs. And I got an internship at my old church with a bunch of screwy, magnificent high-schoolers that was an immense blessing. And I made it.

Now, while I can’t say the next few years were the most immediately satisfying in my very short ministry career, most of the fruit that my current church is reaping—such as it is—was sown in those early years. The time to consider, to learn, to expand my mind theologically and spiritually in the study of Scripture was absolutely necessary for me. I know for myself there would have been simply too much temptation early on to shortcut the text in my preaching, or simply rely on whatever persuasive rhetorical style, or hip, theological fad I had picked up lately in whoever I was podcasting. Seminary cut that off at the knees.

What’s more, most of seminary was not heroic, brave, or “ebullient” in the sense that many of us want when we’re 19. In fact, it was fairly plodding and ordinary. Which, of course, is what most pastoral ministry is, even when things are going well. Beyond the growth in technical and practical knowledge, even the “brakes” that seminary applies in our ministry life is formative.

I realize there are a great many obstacles to pursuing seminary. For one, tuition creep has not left Bible colleges and seminaries unaffected. Creative thinking is needed in this area on the part of seminaries and the denominations and churches looking to hire trained pastors. It cannot simply fall to the students to assume crushing debt to work a job that will be unlikely to contribute towards paying it off. Indeed, wealthier churches ought to consider providing funds for churches in low-income areas that simply cannot afford to do so themselves.

All the same, for those contemplating entering the pastorate, I would encourage you not to be swept up in the youthful need to do now in such a way that robs you of the opportunity to be more effective later. It’s not for nothing that Jesus spent years preparing for his ministry or three years of close training his disciples for theirs. If you have the opportunity, the capability, and the call, be willing to sacrifice the years—even if it takes 6 or 7—to go to seminary. Effectively serving the Truth we love is absolutely worth it.

Is there enough evidence for us to believe the Gospels?

In an age of faith deconstruction and skepticism about the Bible’s authority, it’s common to hear claims that the Gospels are unreliable propaganda. And if the Gospels are shown to be historically unreliable, the whole foundation of Christianity begins to crumble.
But the Gospels are historically reliable. And the evidence for this is vast.
To learn about the evidence for the historical reliability of the four Gospels, click below to access a FREE eBook of Can We Trust the Gospels? written by New Testament scholar Peter J. Williams.

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