Archive for March, 2013

Though they’re easily accessible in the sidebar to the right, I’d like to call attention here to certain required artifacts for my senior review. Namely, I’m referring to the Wittenberg, 1934 case brief, my theology of ministry paper, and my revised ministerial identity paper.

I believe the Wittenberg case brief exhibits outcomes 2abd, 3bce, 4abcd, 5abe, 7abcd, 8cf and 9a. The theology of ministry paper mainly exhibits outcomes 4abc, 6abcef, 8abd, and 10abc. And the reflection on ministerial exhibits outcomes 8abcdef and 10abc. Further details on these assignments are found on the papers’ respective pages.

And in case you’re as much in need of a (rueful) laugh as I am…

(The following is the third of my posts for Dr. Childers’ Readings in Christian Spirituality class. Again, these posts are not meant to display particular MDiv outcomes or competencies. I’m simply sharing them for the fun of it. Enjoy!)

Bartolomé de las Casas obviously wasn’t writing to Christians in 20th- and 21st-century America. But if only he had…

I can imagine… The passion, the powerful words, the deep belief, and the wholehearted devotion pouring from his fingers onto the keyboard and into the blogosphere. His posts would go viral. But maybe not because they were popular. You see, his observations would step on a lot of toes, and we wouldn’t enjoy that so much. But we couldn’t help but pay attention to the prophetic voice of this man who seemed to know our nature far too well for our own liking.

And here I’m actually not thinking of religious wars and plundering and imperialism run amuck, though de las Casas would surely have something to say to these things in our time. These lamentable sins seem to pervade humanity, no matter the time, no matter the place. And de las Casas sure had plenty to say about them in The Only Way. His portrayals of human villainy were chilling in their accuracy, even if they were removed from our own situation by half a millennium.

No, here I’m actually thinking of the Christian culture wars. These wars have ravaged our own nation for so long, leaving many casualties in their wake. Christians bicker and backbite. They call each other names and condemn each other for holding differing beliefs, even if those beliefs are sometimes heartfelt and well founded. And they do all of this in front of a watching world. And not just in front of, but also to a watching world.

Probably the best known example is the Westboro Baptist Church, whose official website, www.godhatesfags.com, informs me both that WBC members have lost exactly zero “nanoseconds of sleep” over my “opinions and feeeeellllliiiiiings” and that in the time it’s taken me to write this paragraph, God has cast exactly 483 555 people into hell. Spewing their hatred almost indiscriminately, groups like WBC attack Christians and non-Christians alike for “unfaithful” lives and actions, making a mockery of the faith as they do so. (You might also check out the lovely little book How to Win the Culture War: A Christian Battle Plan for a Society in Crisis. I confess that I have not and will not read it.)

Though the sin isn’t limited to extremist examples or hot button issues, it surely does prevail in those cases. And I can’t help but think that de las Casas would’ve had something to say about it. For the culture wars of our day claim the same goal as the wars of de las Casas’ day: conversion of the pagan. And they adopt many of the same tactics: coercion, proclaimed condemnation, blind arrogance and egocentrism, violence, intimidation… The list goes on and on. And the results, at least as I’ve been able to observe them, are much the same. While the Christians engaged in the culture wars go around feeling good about themselves, “Pagans are forced to burst out into blasphemy, to curse the Creator since they think the awful injustice they undergo comes from that Creator’s law or precept or prior and wicked command. They will then go on to detest faith and salvation in Christ as a fake, a lie.” (136) Love of neighbor is not embodied (142). Christians proclaim self-holiness more than they actually live the holy life that imitates Christ (144). Though in a different time, a different place, and a different culture, they commit the same sins, and with the same results: non-Christians are driven away, perhaps forever, from Christ.

So while, according to our source, we’re now up to 2,802 people who’ve been cast into hell since our last update, I can’t help but think that Bartolomé de las Casas would have a different view than WBC on why that might be the case and who’s to blame:

“If, as Chrysostom said about Matthew 23, they are unpardonable who just withhold their charity, what pardon will they have who do positive damage? You will suffer torment as the damned, not just for damning yourselves, but also for damning others. You cut off with a quick death the time they needed for conversion and repentance. You sent them straight to the torments of hell. You damned also those who grew to hate our faith because of the awful example you gave, grew to ridicule the universal Church, grew to blaspheme God.” (150)

Yes, I can imagine that de las Casas would have a lot to say to Christians in 20th- and 21st-century America. And though he might even at times and on certain issues step on my own sin-smudged toes, I’d like to think that I’d be there to back him up with a facebook “like” and “share.” Because he’s got something important to say. And the world needs to hear it.

In the fall of 2012, I enrolled in Dr. Sensing’s Homiletics class. Believe it or not, this was somewhat of a daring move for me to make. As a woman from the Churches of Christ tradition, I had heard for most of my life that I was not allowed to preach, not allowed to have a voice in the church. Though I no longer believed in or lived my life by that fallacious theological conclusion, the specter of it still haunted me.

You see, just a year before, when a funeral director saw me holding a Bible and asked if I’d be the one performing the service that day, my own family members had laughed out loud—right in front of me—at the preposterous idea that I, a woman, might be the preacher. And just a year before that, when I shared portions of my own narrative of my calling to ministry in a very public way, some responded with encouraging words, but others sharpened their linguistic barbs and aimed them directly at me and my fellow women ministers. But more than that, for my entire life I’d been silenced, simply because of my gender. And until I was in my mid-twenties (around the time I entered the GST) I’d not seen a woman preach or pray or lead a church, at least not while in the company of men. Not a single one.

These experiences haunted me. And my resulting inexperience at the homiletical task threatened me. I would be the only one in the class who’d never preached a sermon before. The only one who didn’t know what she was doing. The only one for whom all of this was intimidating—and not just because of its newness but because of the theological baggage that accompanied it. How in the world would I find my voice? And how in the world would I measure up? Besides that, how would I deal with the potential repercussions from my family if they found out what I was doing? Should I avoid the topic or come right out and talk about it? Needless to say, the class stirred up thoughts and feelings that most courses don’t.

Yet, intimidated as I was, I resolutely gave the class my all. I felt I owed it to myself, and not only to me but also to all women who’d been silenced in the church and not given this opportunity. And over the course of that semester I learned, at least in part, to preach. I was proud to do as well as I did in the class, and I’d like to share with you here some artifacts indicating my success. Below you’ll find a set of seven sermon sketches as well as manuscripts for the two sermons I preached in class. (I’d hoped to also include some audio files of me preaching the sermons, but the stomach bug, cold, and sinus infection I’ve had in two weeks leading up to my senior review have prevented that from happening. Alas.)

For many reasons, then, my participation in the homiletics course indicates greater competency in a wide range of MDiv outcomes. I was able to engage in spite of my own personal fears and limitations, showing a number of the qualities expected of MDiv graduates (outcomes 8abcd and 9abcd). And the content of the sermon sketches and the sermons themselves evidence my knowledge of the Christians scriptures (outcome 1abcd), my abilities to practice theology in contemporary contexts and lead the church as a minister (outcomes 4abcd and 6bcd), and my competency at written and especially oral communication (outcome 11abcd). Now, for your reading enjoyment:

Sermon Sketches

Christ in Us, the Sufficient One

Lament: Our Act of Faith

To be sure, there’s still room for improvement in my preaching, and I’ve received some good feedback from Dr. Sensing and my classmates to help with that. You know, I still don’t foresee myself becoming a highly skilled full-time preacher anytime soon (or ever, really, given my church background and my current ecclesiology). But I know now that I at least can preach. This experience has shown me that I am capable.

This experience has helped me jump the biggest hurdle of all: finding my own voice. And I’m not the only one who’s found my voice. Whether she wants it or not, so has the church. God grant that she may find the voices of many other daughters.

Several times now here on this blog I’ve referenced the Missional Life program, but I have yet to give a direct explanation of what ML is or how I am involved in it. (If you’ve already read my contextual education paper, “Educated and Formed,” you’ll have a pretty good idea. If not, you might want to see pages 2-4 of that document for some more in-depth information about ML than what I’ll give here.)

Missional Life began in the spring of 2011, when five graduate students (myself, Jordan Bunch, Rosten Callarman, Benjamin Covington, and John Kaczmarek) began meeting with Dr. Kent Smith to discern ways forward in forming and training undergraduate students to successfully lead a life on mission with God, regardless of their career interests or future place of residence. In the fall of 2011 we began a pilot year of engagement with around 20 students (as well as with one additional coach, Brent Bailey, who’d joined us in the meantime). We learned a number of things from that year, as we’d hoped, and after some discernment and planning we began our second iteration of ML in the spring of 2013, this time with approximately 30 students and 8-9 new leaders.

My own participation in ML has varied. From the beginning I’ve been part of the overarching planning team, what is now organized (in sociocratic terms) as the General Circle. At times I have served as the administrator for that circle, keeping meeting notes, arranging agendas, and making sure necessary organization and communication happen. In the pilot year, I served as a coach, alongside Benjamin, of a struggling cohort of four students. After that cohort was declared defunct, Benjamin and I shifted our energy and attention to something that fit our skill sets a little more closely: constructing an ACU course that would align with the vision, mission, and aim of ML. The course, Foundations of the Missional Life, will be offered in the fall of 2013. Because Benjamin will be moving away from Abilene upon graduating, I will serve as the principal professor, with Dr. Smith coming alongside me at times as we deem helpful.

Below you will find the artifacts that I have chosen to indicate my involvement in Missional Life. I have included for you the ML Proposal that shows the processes and outcomes of our pilot year, the ML brochure we designed for distribution to students, a link to the syllabus under construction for the Foundations of the Missional Life course, and a link to the Google Drive folder that contains all the important (and some not-so-important) Missional Life documents to date.

ML Proposal

ML Brochure

Foundations of the Missional Life Syllabus

ML Google Drive Folders

I believe these artifacts (or to be more accurate, my involvement in ML) indicate several of the desired outcomes for the MDiv. Most notably, I see through my engagement in ML increased ability to interpret the Christian faith and contemporary cultural contexts (outcome 3abcde), deepened ability to practice theology in those contemporary cultural contexts (outcome 4acd), honed ability to lead and equip the church (outcome 6abcdefg, especially 6f), and greater clarity in ministerial identity (outcome 10abc). (At the risk of overwhelming you with outcomes, I would additionally list 2abc, 8abcde, and 9ab as outcomes demonstrated well through my involvement in ML, though to a lesser degree than those listed above.)

Through my participation in Missional Life, I have learned a great deal about what spiritual formation can look like and can entail. I have been challenged to have broader and deeper vision for the Kingdom. I have gained a better understanding of the balance of being willing to push past my comfort zone at times while also knowing and playing to my own God-given strengths. I have identified more healthy and unhealthy ways to be part of an organization or community. I have discovered more about what my own place in the Kingdom might be, and I’ve been excited to begin living into that vision in the here and now.

Though they’re accessible on the sidebar to the right, I wanted to particularly point out my reflections on formational goals and Profiles of Ministry feedback as indicators of outcome 9ab, which read as follows:

a) demonstrates healthy awareness of one’s personality, behavior patterns, level of interpersonal effectiveness, and patterns of response to anxiety and conflict
b) takes honest responsibility for one’s actions, habits, and growth, applying effective strategies for achieving ongoing ministerial growth

That is exactly what I believe these reflections (and my further action because of them) do.

Though I did not dedicate as much time and thought to reflecting on these goals as I have in previous years, I do believe my reflections are still an accurate representation of what is going on. It was particularly interesting for me to look back at prior years’ goals and reflections to see what has remained the same and what has changed. Though not all changes may be outwardly noticeable, I do believe I have changed for the better over the course of my nearly four years in the GST, and I am thankful to be able to track that growth through these reflections.

Below you’ll find artifacts relating to my field education experience, which I undertook in the fall of 2012 under the direction of Drs. Carson Reed and Kent Smith. Included are my initial field education proposal, a short summary of Richard Osmer’s book, Practical Theology: An Introduction, which I used to frame my work and writing, my field notes from the semester, my reflection paper, and a link to the syllabus that I and a colleague are currently constructing for the Missional Life course I will be teaching in the fall of 2013 (as discussed in the reflection paper). These artifacts exhibit my increasing  knowledge of the theological content of the Christian tradition (outcome 2abc), competence at interpreting two congregational cultures and practicing theology in those cultures’ contexts (outcome 3d and 4abcd), my ability to lead and equip the church (outcome 6abcdef), and my own growing awareness of and investment in my ministerial identity (outcome 10abc).

Overall, the field education experience was a positive one. There were challenges, to be sure, largely related to the too-busy schedule I had during that semester. But I learned a great deal from my observation and experience. I was able to see just how different two organizations with similar goals can look, and from that I learned more about the significance of an organization’s having clearly defined aims and good teamwork from a diverse group of people. I learned a new way to frame theological exploration and intervention—Osmer’s four theological tasks—and I spent some time reflecting on my own strengths, weaknesses, and desires regarding those tasks. And over the course of the semester, I learned more about the kind of formational education I would like to be a part of in the future. In addition to seeing (and helping) others be educated and formed, I myself was educated and formed, and I would guess that that is the point of a field education experience. I look forward to carrying forth into my future the things I have learned and the ways I have been shaped.

Field Education Proposal

Summary of Osmer’s Practical Theology

My Field Notes

Educated and Formed: A Semester of Formational Education with Missional Life and the Justice and Urban Studies Team

Foundations of the Missional Life Syllabus