I am a seminary graduate. As of Thursday, December 15, 2005, I have a Master of Divinity degree. For more than five years, I have been pastor and father and husband and seminary student, and now, ’seminary student’ no longer applies. It was such an odd feeling. Disappointing in a way. I had dreamed of the moment when I would finish my last final, but as I wrote the penultimate word and handed the papers to the professor, it felt like the end of any other test. I said goodbye to my friends and my teachers, and for all the effort I made, I couldn’t feel as if I was leaving as student for the last time. All the feelings I’d had the last semester about leaving seminary weren’t present when the time came.
As I was driving away from Chapman Seminary (Oakland City, IN) toward home, a two-hour drive, I realized what was happening. It was more about life than seminary, though in the end the two are blended somehow. Life isn’t about the moments of completion and accomplishment. It isn’t about getting the degree, saying ‘I do,’ being in the delivery room when the child is born. Though those are important, life is parenting the child, working at the marriage, and studying to earn the degree. And I realize now that I have often lived for the moments of completion, when I should simply have been living.
A great bit of writing, as usual. I remember driving to Nashville, TN, for our honeymoon when Rachel asked if I felt married. I said I didn’t know. Life has a disobliging habit of moving on when you’re looking for “that moment” and then surprising you in the most unsuspected ways.
And a hardy congratulations on completing your degree.
You know, a similar thing happened when Marcus was born. You’re anticipating this incredible moment, and it was absolutely amazing, but when he came out, he seemed to me to be a little stranger. I didn’t know this little guy yet, and what I felt wasn’t what I’d thought I would feel. Of course, he has become the most brilliant little three-year-old in the world now.
I remember when I walked across the platform at Olathe College Church to receive my diploma and decorated with a multi-colored hood. I remember walking across that platform forcing myself to take in everything. I saw the rest of the graduates eagerly waiting for their turn in line; I noticed all the families, of whom my Mom and Sister, niece and nephew were visible. I noticed my roommate Steve, who would wait another 2 years before waiting in the same line. I noticed the professors, some I liked, others I could have done without. As if I were outside my body, I noticed myself. Is it true? Am I a graduate? How long the road and how difficult some of the terrain. It is finished? Now, 8 years, almost 9 after that moment, I look back and wonder what has come of that graduate? Then the “aha” moment hits me. The time spent inside the institution (of which I still owe what seems to be like a million dollars) wasn’t the point. The point is what did that time do to shape who I have been since I walked the halls, wrote the papers and barely passed the examinations? SO, what happened? Who have I become because of or inspite of my time inside the Halls Of Higher Learning? Thanks Andy for causing me to look back to see just where I am because of where I’ve been!!! Congratulations!!!!
Congratulations Andy and to Heather also for her help !
Could it be that what is so important about the degree is not so much what we’ve learned as that we have learned to learn? And in life is it not the learning to live continously, day in and day out that is more important than any one event? The continual walking the path, verses going from one high to another or one low to another.
Andy, first of all-props to you on your great accomplishment. I’m especially congratulatory to you for taking the pains of making something of yourself as a minister, and not taking the easy road of “just preaching”. Also, your reflections are quite thought-provoking.
Here are some links that I believe will be interested