March - A Month in the Life of a Seminarian

Greetings all from Massachusetts,
The weather here has been traumatizing lately. Some folks—including my wife—are nearing mental breakdown due to the tantalizing sunshine and sixty degree flirtations, which are here for a day and then followed by the normal slew of snow and ice. Today is another one of those teasing days—though I can see brightness shining through our venation blinds I don’t know what the temperature is since I haven’t been outside yet, but I’m trying not to get my hopes up. Winter, here in Mass is rather like a bad sermon—never ending.

The big news from this past month was our trip to Nashotah House Theological Seminary in Wisconsin. Melissa and I met with Bishop Howe back in December and he had mentioned that he would like us to visit the school and strongly consider studying there for a year. So, the wife and I piled into our car along with our travel pillows some tubes of Pringles, Little Debbie Cakes and a couple of suitcases. Twelve hours later after traversing across the state trooper laden highways of New York and the deserted stretches of Canada we arrived in Detroit, Michigan to slumber on a friend’s couch. The next day we drove to Chicago for dinner with my sister and her husband and a fitful sleep on an over inflated air mattress (Melissa liked it). Finally, on Thursday morning we drove up along Lake Michigan into Wisconsin and arrived at our destination.

Just outside of a quant little town called Delafield—which reminds one of driving through Pleasantville—near wide swaths of farmer’s fields one can find the seminary hiding away from the road on the eastern shore of Nashotah Lake. Melissa said the school reminded her of a retreat center quietly placed amidst towering trees. We arrived in time for the first class of the morning: Ascetical Theology (a class focused on the priesthood and Christian spirituality in ministry; in particular the priest’s role as spiritual guide and confessor) with Father Klukas. While he lectured, students laughed about his stories and jokes concerning the priesthood and tossed in jokes of their own—all of this while scribbling or typing notes concerning the theology of the priesthood. The atmosphere was very different from the serious, overworked tone of the students where Melissa and I currently attend. Throughout the rest of the day at the little school, (about 75 students total) folks warmly greeted us with an outstretched hand and a smiling face. That afternoon I was interviewed by the dean, registrar and a leading member of the faculty, and then after gathering for chapel that afternoon, a couple from the school took us out for supper. Ah, the memories I still have from that rib-eye steak and glass of Valley Of The Moon Sangiovese, though the slice of cucumber that they put in my water was a little weird. The next morning I got up for the daily chapel service and enjoyed the service, though my knees felt like a little kid after his first couple of days learning to rollerblade. The folks at Nashotah like to kneel a lot—with no padding. After attending a few more classes we grabbed some lunch in their cafeteria, thanked everyone at Nashotah for their hospitality and were off on our cross-country journey back to New England. We thoroughly enjoyed our visit to the seminary. We were impressed by the culture—friendly and close knit and unlike Gordon-Conwell, which trains scholars, Nashotah House is forming pastors to serve people. Melissa and I are feeling drawn by God and have been praying quite a bit about a potential move there this fall.

Back at the homestead, I was preaching about the Sabbath a few weeks ago at our local parish. As I was coming to the end of my sermon I said, “There are three ways that we can practice Sabbath in our lives” then I gave the first and the second, but I couldn't think of the third. I went blank and I had just promised to share three ways. This has long been my greatest fear, especially as of late since I have been working on preaching note-less. The normal reaction when you go blank is to review the points of you sermon up until then, with the audience and this gives you time to remember what is next. So, that is what I did, but I still didn’t remember. Nothing. I said, “You know what, I can't remember the third way that we should put this into practice.” Everyone laughed. While they were laughing, the point came to me and I finished the sermon well. Going blank is not so bad. Suffering through my worst fear was a good experience for me.

Blessings,
Philip and Melissa