CNN recently posted an article containing excerpts of a letter from Ted Kennedy to the Pope shortly before the senator's death. I found it to be an interesting read, especially after all the nasty things I've heard about this man over the years. (No, I am not putting on blinders to his faults nor his political positions I disagreed with.) Putting aside all the heated rhetoric and simply trying to understand the man, I found it to be an interesting window into his personal psyche. Thought it was worth sharing, so here are those excerpts:
"Most Holy Father, I asked President Obama to personally hand-deliver this letter to you. As a man of deep faith himself, he understands how important my Catholic faith is to me, and I am so deeply grateful to him. I hope this letter finds you in good health...
I pray that you have all of God's blessings as you lead our Church and inspire our world during these challenging times. I am writing with deep humility to ask that you pray for me as my own health declines. I was diagnosed with brain cancer more than a year ago, and although I continue treatment the disease is taking its toll on me. I am 77 years old, and preparing for the next passage of life...
I have been blessed to be part of a wonderful family. Both of my parents, particularly my mother, kept our Catholic faith at the center of our lives. That gift of faith has sustained and nurtured, and provided solace to me in the darkest hours...
I know that I have been an imperfect human being, but with the help of my faith I have tried to right my path. I want you to know Your Holiness that in my nearly 50 years of elective office, I have done my best to champion the rights of the poor and open doors of economic opportunity. I have worked to welcome the immigrant, to fight discrimination, and expand access to health care and education. I have opposed the death penalty, and fought to end war. Those are the issues that have motivated me and been the focus of my work as a United States Senator...
I also want you to know that even though I am ill, I am committed to do everything I can to achieve access to health care for everyone in my country. This has been the political cause of my life. I believe in a conscience protection for Catholics in the health field, and I'll continue to advocate for it as my colleagues in the Senate and I work to develop an overall national health policy that guarantees health care for everyone...
I have always tried to be a faithful Catholic Your Holiness. And though I have fallen short through human failings, I have never failed to believe and respect the fundamental teachings of my faith. I continue to pray for God's blessings on you and on our Church, and would be most thankful for your prayers for me."
http://www.cnn.com/2009/POLITICS/08/29/kennedy.pope.letter/index.html
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Breaking the Depression: Trying a New Approach to My Future
I've been giving a lot of thought to the future. Specifically, grad school and my career/life ambitions. (The rest of this paragraph was already in a previous post, but it's crucial to preface the development of my thoughts in this post.) As an interdisciplinary thinker, I'm having a tough time narrowing my interests down. For the longest time I was certain that I wanted to study history. Today history is still in the mix but my options have expanded. To help figure out which route I want to go in, I've been reading books that explore all sorts of disciplines--history, theology, philosophy, psychology, anthropology, sociology, political science, law--in the hopes that it'd illuminate what I'm most interested in; thus narrowing down my options. To put it mildly, it hasn't worked.
They say that doing the same thing over and over again yet expecting different results is the essence of stupidity, so after three month I'm trying another approach. I've decided to invert the process. Rather than looking at what I want to study and trying to sketch out my dreams based upon that, I'm looking at what I'd like to accomplish during my life and then deciding the discipline(s). That is, I'm identifying the underlining life themes beneath my particular interests. Beyond the obvious stuff like being a great husband, I've come up with five goals. In no particular order, here's what I've come up with:
(Admittedly, these are all inter-connected.)
1. Guide a local church as an elder.
From my experience, too many pastors serve as the Theological Commander in Chief; too many hold the exclusive theological reigns for their entire congregations. The reasons vary. In some cases it's out of necessity. (Times are bleak when Ralph the carpenter is the second most theologically trained person--having read The Purpose Driven Life and all.) If we're honest about it, other times it's a selfish power ploy. (Don't always buy that crap about the pastor being strongly Calvinist or Arminian or Pentecostal or whatever just 'cuz he's "serious about theology." Sometimes that's true, but other times these guys are simply on an ego trip and, despite what they say, they're secretly glad that they're the only one in church who knows any theology. It elevates their stature and fosters dependency. Perfect for a dominating personality to reign supreme.) The absolute last thing I want to do is be a pastor, but I aspire to be the world's greatest elder. I want to assist/support a pastor and help guide a local body as part of an elder board. I hope this doesn't come across as arrogant or prideful, but I believe God has gifted me with certain abilities that could really make a difference on the local level. Lord willing, I will gain much more wisdom, knowledge, experience, and spiritual mooring and will be in a place where I can do that. I look at the sage wisdom and resulting impact upon a local body of some older men I've known, and I want to be like them.
2. Tangibly impact the evangelical life of the mind.
Mark Noll's The Scandal of the Evangelical Mind contains this quote by N.K. Clifford: "The Evangelical Protestant mind has never relished complexity. Indeed its crusading genius, whether in religion or politics, has always tended toward an over-simplification of issues and the substitution of inspiration and zeal for critical analysis and serious reflection." That book genuinely transformed my life/faith. I desire to answer Noll's call to encourage Christians to worship God with the entirety of their beings, including heart, mind, soul, and strength. This is undoubtedly my loftiest goal. No doubt it's idealistic and (at least) a tad bit naive to dream of tangibly impacting the culture of something as nebulous and expansive as evangelicalism. Still, I've got some ideas...
3. Work out my salvation with fear and trembling.
I struggle through more spiritual angst than anyone I've ever known. I say this not in some sort of twisted pride, but as a wounded doubter whose constant prayer is "Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief." Philip Yancey wrote, "I write books for myself. I write books to resolve things that are bothering me, things I don't have answers to. My books are a process of exploration and investigation. So, I tend to tackle different problems related to faith, things of concern to me, things I wonder about and worry about." I resonate with this. My dirty little secret is that my intellectual aspirations--both as an author and as an academic--are quite utilitarian in that my true, underlining motive is to alleviate my inner turmoil and find peace.
4. Assist Christians who are struggling spiritually because of intellectual questions.
This is inspired by personal experience. I've gone through countless situations in which I opened myself up and shared what I was thinking and working through only to be assailed by my brothers and sisters in the Lord. My faith has been denigrated, dismissed, and and destroyed by those who simply don't understand. They don't get it that the way God reaches my heart is via my head. When I asked difficult questions I was told to "stop thinking and just have faith." When I refused to stop questioning I was told that the inevitable result would be intellectual pride and a rejection of my faith. People just don't understand that those moments when I feel closest to God are the same moments when my mind is fully engaged in pursuing Him. So, having so often felt alone within the Church, I want to go back and help those like me--those who are taking a similar path in this spiritual pilgrimage called Christianity. I won't ever claim to have all the answers, but I hope to at least be able to provide some comfort as one who empathizes.
5. Humbly reach out to non-Christians who are struggling spiritually because of intellectual questions.
A few weeks back my pastor commented that one of the largest unreached people groups in the U.S. might be graduate students. Intriguing hypothesis. This comment didn't so much rock my world as it did confirm where (I think) God has been leading. For entirely understandable reasons, we (and the Bible) put a lot of emphasis upon reaching society's poor and downtrodden. (I would argue it's still not enough emphasis, though.) But my question is this: Is the person who is struggling to believe in God because he grew up in the midst of tragic violence and poverty any more in need of salvation than the person who is struggling to accept Christianity because of the creepy parallels between it and Zoroastrianism? There's too many of these angry apologetic types going around Bible bashing people. They seemingly have this mentality that they can beat people into faith in Christ; that people are idiotic for believing in anything but Christianity; that if they can just intellectually disprove (via ridicule) these people's worldview, then that they'll relent in this unbelief and accept Jesus. I'm not saying that God doesn't occasionally use these guys, but, in my estimate, it's not an effective approach... I've said it before and I'll say it again: If I weren't a Christian, Richard Dawkins would have nothing on me. I'm an extremely passionate guy. The moment I didn't believe Christianity was true, I would cease to be a Christian. My life as a Christian has not been this unrestrained bundle of joy you hear these radio preachers talk about. Yes, Christianity does provide eternal joy as well as a sense of assurance, but it has not made my life easier. If anything, the opposite has been the case. Point being, I have the ability and the inclination to sympathize with the perspective of thinking non-Christians even while they're assaulting Christianity. I love them dearly and see myself as one of them merely saved by grace. I desire to humbly show them the truth as best I can understand it, not hold them in the apologetic Scorpion Death Lock until they tap out and become a Christian. If they're anything like me, the more one demands they submit the more determined they become not to. As such, I would prescribe another option: humble truth conveyed in admittedly imperfect love. Do that and pray that God will do the rest. That's all I know to do.
OK. So what to do with all of that?
I've been considering some advice that D.G. Hart gave at the TFC conference: more people should consider doing an M.A. in theology not because that's what they'll end up studying professionally, but because it provides the foundation from which to see all the other disciplines as a Christian. This isn't merely a matter of personal, spiritual edification. I think it could also help me with each of my five life goals. Yet the question remains: Is it idiotic and/or financially impractical to pursue a graduate degree in a field I (currently) have no desire to pursue professionally? Is that too much time and money? That's where I'm at...
They say that doing the same thing over and over again yet expecting different results is the essence of stupidity, so after three month I'm trying another approach. I've decided to invert the process. Rather than looking at what I want to study and trying to sketch out my dreams based upon that, I'm looking at what I'd like to accomplish during my life and then deciding the discipline(s). That is, I'm identifying the underlining life themes beneath my particular interests. Beyond the obvious stuff like being a great husband, I've come up with five goals. In no particular order, here's what I've come up with:
(Admittedly, these are all inter-connected.)
1. Guide a local church as an elder.
From my experience, too many pastors serve as the Theological Commander in Chief; too many hold the exclusive theological reigns for their entire congregations. The reasons vary. In some cases it's out of necessity. (Times are bleak when Ralph the carpenter is the second most theologically trained person--having read The Purpose Driven Life and all.) If we're honest about it, other times it's a selfish power ploy. (Don't always buy that crap about the pastor being strongly Calvinist or Arminian or Pentecostal or whatever just 'cuz he's "serious about theology." Sometimes that's true, but other times these guys are simply on an ego trip and, despite what they say, they're secretly glad that they're the only one in church who knows any theology. It elevates their stature and fosters dependency. Perfect for a dominating personality to reign supreme.) The absolute last thing I want to do is be a pastor, but I aspire to be the world's greatest elder. I want to assist/support a pastor and help guide a local body as part of an elder board. I hope this doesn't come across as arrogant or prideful, but I believe God has gifted me with certain abilities that could really make a difference on the local level. Lord willing, I will gain much more wisdom, knowledge, experience, and spiritual mooring and will be in a place where I can do that. I look at the sage wisdom and resulting impact upon a local body of some older men I've known, and I want to be like them.
2. Tangibly impact the evangelical life of the mind.
Mark Noll's The Scandal of the Evangelical Mind contains this quote by N.K. Clifford: "The Evangelical Protestant mind has never relished complexity. Indeed its crusading genius, whether in religion or politics, has always tended toward an over-simplification of issues and the substitution of inspiration and zeal for critical analysis and serious reflection." That book genuinely transformed my life/faith. I desire to answer Noll's call to encourage Christians to worship God with the entirety of their beings, including heart, mind, soul, and strength. This is undoubtedly my loftiest goal. No doubt it's idealistic and (at least) a tad bit naive to dream of tangibly impacting the culture of something as nebulous and expansive as evangelicalism. Still, I've got some ideas...
3. Work out my salvation with fear and trembling.
I struggle through more spiritual angst than anyone I've ever known. I say this not in some sort of twisted pride, but as a wounded doubter whose constant prayer is "Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief." Philip Yancey wrote, "I write books for myself. I write books to resolve things that are bothering me, things I don't have answers to. My books are a process of exploration and investigation. So, I tend to tackle different problems related to faith, things of concern to me, things I wonder about and worry about." I resonate with this. My dirty little secret is that my intellectual aspirations--both as an author and as an academic--are quite utilitarian in that my true, underlining motive is to alleviate my inner turmoil and find peace.
4. Assist Christians who are struggling spiritually because of intellectual questions.
This is inspired by personal experience. I've gone through countless situations in which I opened myself up and shared what I was thinking and working through only to be assailed by my brothers and sisters in the Lord. My faith has been denigrated, dismissed, and and destroyed by those who simply don't understand. They don't get it that the way God reaches my heart is via my head. When I asked difficult questions I was told to "stop thinking and just have faith." When I refused to stop questioning I was told that the inevitable result would be intellectual pride and a rejection of my faith. People just don't understand that those moments when I feel closest to God are the same moments when my mind is fully engaged in pursuing Him. So, having so often felt alone within the Church, I want to go back and help those like me--those who are taking a similar path in this spiritual pilgrimage called Christianity. I won't ever claim to have all the answers, but I hope to at least be able to provide some comfort as one who empathizes.
5. Humbly reach out to non-Christians who are struggling spiritually because of intellectual questions.
A few weeks back my pastor commented that one of the largest unreached people groups in the U.S. might be graduate students. Intriguing hypothesis. This comment didn't so much rock my world as it did confirm where (I think) God has been leading. For entirely understandable reasons, we (and the Bible) put a lot of emphasis upon reaching society's poor and downtrodden. (I would argue it's still not enough emphasis, though.) But my question is this: Is the person who is struggling to believe in God because he grew up in the midst of tragic violence and poverty any more in need of salvation than the person who is struggling to accept Christianity because of the creepy parallels between it and Zoroastrianism? There's too many of these angry apologetic types going around Bible bashing people. They seemingly have this mentality that they can beat people into faith in Christ; that people are idiotic for believing in anything but Christianity; that if they can just intellectually disprove (via ridicule) these people's worldview, then that they'll relent in this unbelief and accept Jesus. I'm not saying that God doesn't occasionally use these guys, but, in my estimate, it's not an effective approach... I've said it before and I'll say it again: If I weren't a Christian, Richard Dawkins would have nothing on me. I'm an extremely passionate guy. The moment I didn't believe Christianity was true, I would cease to be a Christian. My life as a Christian has not been this unrestrained bundle of joy you hear these radio preachers talk about. Yes, Christianity does provide eternal joy as well as a sense of assurance, but it has not made my life easier. If anything, the opposite has been the case. Point being, I have the ability and the inclination to sympathize with the perspective of thinking non-Christians even while they're assaulting Christianity. I love them dearly and see myself as one of them merely saved by grace. I desire to humbly show them the truth as best I can understand it, not hold them in the apologetic Scorpion Death Lock until they tap out and become a Christian. If they're anything like me, the more one demands they submit the more determined they become not to. As such, I would prescribe another option: humble truth conveyed in admittedly imperfect love. Do that and pray that God will do the rest. That's all I know to do.
OK. So what to do with all of that?
I've been considering some advice that D.G. Hart gave at the TFC conference: more people should consider doing an M.A. in theology not because that's what they'll end up studying professionally, but because it provides the foundation from which to see all the other disciplines as a Christian. This isn't merely a matter of personal, spiritual edification. I think it could also help me with each of my five life goals. Yet the question remains: Is it idiotic and/or financially impractical to pursue a graduate degree in a field I (currently) have no desire to pursue professionally? Is that too much time and money? That's where I'm at...
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Feeling Old at 24
Since I wrote my recent post on my depression, a lot of people have weighed in both publicly and privately. Most of their comments have been uplifting or poignant, both of which are needed. I'm still in the thick of it. I simply hurt inside, but my saving grace has been the people in my life who care and are praying. You guys mean the world. Thank you.
A lot of people hopped on the fact that I'm talking about being old while I'm 24. Understandable. But there's context to those comments that people either don't know or didn't consider. I don't say that I feel old (primarily) because most people have graduated college 2 yrs earlier than I am and many of my peers have a head-start on grad school. I say that I feel old because death feels very real to me. I have a genetic respiratory condition that, if full blown, would shorten my lifespan to about 30. Thankfully, I've got a mild, variant form of the thing. Lord willing, I'll have a normal lifespan. Nevertheless, it remains a very real possibility that I could die prematurely.
That's not being morbid. It's acknowledging reality. I remember the fearful instances I had as a child when I couldn't breathe. I remember coughing myself awake many nights and wondering between gasps if I was going to get better. I remember thinking about what would happen if I didn't. I haven't talked about this much with people and I've never written about it, but my having to confront the reality of death was hugely influential in my life.
How many times have I head people say, "You feel like you're invincible when you're young"? My response has always been, really? Seriously? I've just never had that experience... The second to last sentence originally read, "I've never had that luxury," but when I reflected on it, I don't think that's accurate. I count it as a blessing that I've been keenly aware of my mortally since childhood. These experiences have shaped my perspective. They've giving me a seriousness, intentionality, and passion about life that, from my observations, few of my peers share. In my darkest moments, yes, my thinking about death can be a little morbid. But ever since those years in high school when I was contemplating suicide, those moments have been fleeting. What has replaced them is this inclination to savor life.
All this gets back to my starting to feel old at 24. It's not about the fact that even now my body doesn't feel as young as it once did. It's not that I'm jealous of my peers who've already completed Master's degrees. It's about wanting to accomplish as much as possible with whatever time God has allotted me. It's about taking an honest assessment of my life and realizing that even if I lived a full lifetime, I may well have already lived 1/3 of my life. I genuinely strive not to be that guy who has a near death experience at age 48 that changes their life and causes him to re-prioritize his life. I want to have my priorities in line right now. I want to enjoy the gift of life to its fullest now. I want to be the best husband possible. I want to be the most discerning man possible. I don't want to learn about life through the school of hard knocks and mistakes, but to glean the wisdom of those who've come before me. I want to worship God with my heart, mind, soul, and strength now. I want to make a tangible difference in the broken Body of Christ that I so love. I affirm God's sovereign hand, but I want to do everything in my power to live my life the right way for as long as possible. Maybe I'm wrong, but I think you get that perspective not by seeking after perpetual youth but by openly addressing and grappling with issues of age, mortality, and death...
Upon further consideration, I'm not depressed because a third of my life has (likely) already ticked away. (I think of that as the depreciation model of aging.) I'm depressed because I keep getting beaten down by people that I love when I try to live the right way.*
* More to come about this in a future blog post.
A lot of people hopped on the fact that I'm talking about being old while I'm 24. Understandable. But there's context to those comments that people either don't know or didn't consider. I don't say that I feel old (primarily) because most people have graduated college 2 yrs earlier than I am and many of my peers have a head-start on grad school. I say that I feel old because death feels very real to me. I have a genetic respiratory condition that, if full blown, would shorten my lifespan to about 30. Thankfully, I've got a mild, variant form of the thing. Lord willing, I'll have a normal lifespan. Nevertheless, it remains a very real possibility that I could die prematurely.
That's not being morbid. It's acknowledging reality. I remember the fearful instances I had as a child when I couldn't breathe. I remember coughing myself awake many nights and wondering between gasps if I was going to get better. I remember thinking about what would happen if I didn't. I haven't talked about this much with people and I've never written about it, but my having to confront the reality of death was hugely influential in my life.
How many times have I head people say, "You feel like you're invincible when you're young"? My response has always been, really? Seriously? I've just never had that experience... The second to last sentence originally read, "I've never had that luxury," but when I reflected on it, I don't think that's accurate. I count it as a blessing that I've been keenly aware of my mortally since childhood. These experiences have shaped my perspective. They've giving me a seriousness, intentionality, and passion about life that, from my observations, few of my peers share. In my darkest moments, yes, my thinking about death can be a little morbid. But ever since those years in high school when I was contemplating suicide, those moments have been fleeting. What has replaced them is this inclination to savor life.
All this gets back to my starting to feel old at 24. It's not about the fact that even now my body doesn't feel as young as it once did. It's not that I'm jealous of my peers who've already completed Master's degrees. It's about wanting to accomplish as much as possible with whatever time God has allotted me. It's about taking an honest assessment of my life and realizing that even if I lived a full lifetime, I may well have already lived 1/3 of my life. I genuinely strive not to be that guy who has a near death experience at age 48 that changes their life and causes him to re-prioritize his life. I want to have my priorities in line right now. I want to enjoy the gift of life to its fullest now. I want to be the best husband possible. I want to be the most discerning man possible. I don't want to learn about life through the school of hard knocks and mistakes, but to glean the wisdom of those who've come before me. I want to worship God with my heart, mind, soul, and strength now. I want to make a tangible difference in the broken Body of Christ that I so love. I affirm God's sovereign hand, but I want to do everything in my power to live my life the right way for as long as possible. Maybe I'm wrong, but I think you get that perspective not by seeking after perpetual youth but by openly addressing and grappling with issues of age, mortality, and death...
Upon further consideration, I'm not depressed because a third of my life has (likely) already ticked away. (I think of that as the depreciation model of aging.) I'm depressed because I keep getting beaten down by people that I love when I try to live the right way.*
* More to come about this in a future blog post.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Depressed and Anxious
I'll start this one off on a personal note: please pray for me. I've been battling some hardcore depression for about a week. Having learned from my struggles with this in the past, I've been refusing to allow myself to mope around and slip further into it. Nevertheless, I've felt cognitively, psychologically, physically, and spiritually fatigued. Thus, my recent lack of blog posts. But I figure it's about time I suck it up and write something...
(I should mention that I have no intended destination with this post, much less a grand thesis that will tie it all together. I'm simply walking you through my life of late.)
Why am I depressed? In part, because I'm another freaking millennial who doesn't know what he wants to do with his life. It's not that I lack vision or passion. I've got that in spades. It's the lack of specific direction that is getting me. I definitively want to pursue grad work. Problem is that doesn't exactly nail down the future plans. There's that minor issue of what, precisely, I want to study the entire rest of my life.
As an interdisciplinary thinker, I'm having a tough time narrowing my interests down. In the past, I was certain that I wanted to study history. Today history is still in the mix but my options have expanded. To help figure out which route I want to go in, I've been doing a lot of reading since graduation. The books and articles cover all sorts of disciplines--history, theology, philosophy, psychology, anthropology, sociology, political science, law, the arts, etc. My hope had been that the process would illuminate what I'm most interested in; thus narrowing down my options. Unfortunately, the exact opposite is happening. My interest has only grown in each of areas, leaving me more up in the air than ever. It's enough to make a man want to curse...
I've been considering some advice that D.G. Hart gave at the American Evangelicalism Conference this past February: more people should consider doing an M.A. in theology not because that's what they'll end up studying professionally, but because it provides the foundation from which to see all the other disciplines as a Christian. It was an interesting thought and it's stuck with me. I think there's truth to what he was saying. In my estimate, too many Christians fail to think as biblically-literate persons. For example, it's no secret that I'm critical of a lot of "christian counseling" as being little more than secular psychology with a christian veneer. This is not to say that christian counselors can't learn things from secular psychologists and integrate them within their field, but I'm skeptical of their uncritical embrace of those principles as well as the fact that their faith appears to have done little to change their thought forms. Don't get me wrong, I'm not just knocking psychology. I think the same could be said of christian historians, philosophers, businessmen, etc. Anyway, all that is to say that I think maybe a M.A. in theology would be beneficial in the way it framed my perception of all the other disciplines. Maybe...
Another concern I have is local churches. Although I have no desire to serve as a pastor, I'm deeply concerned about the lack of theological training on most elder boards. In my experience, it's troublesome when one man controls the theological reigns of the local body. I aspire to someday be the sort of elder who can support the pastor as something of an equal and whose knowledge and (hopefully) wisdom can help to tangibly impact and guide the congregation...
However, I'm already 24-yrs old. (1/4 of my life has been after high school!) I just finished my undergrad degree and am taking at least one year off from school to work, pay down some debt, invest in my marriage, recharge, and work through some important issues that I didn't have time to wrestle with in college. By the time I actually get to grad school, I'll be at least 25. Do I really want to spend 2 yrs doing an M.A. in theology if I have no plans to actually use it professionally? Dang it, I'm starting to feel old...
I have a dirty little secret. Perhaps I'm a bit too pragmatic, but pure scholarship as its own end doesn't appeal to me. Yes, I think Christians should be engaged in the highest level of academia. Yes, I believe that Christians should worship God through the cultivation of their minds. Yes, I think there can be intrinsic value simply in using one's mind to its fullest ability. However, I dream of somehow, someway making a tangible impact upon the evangelical mind by serving as something of a bridge between the ivory towers of academia and the pews (or folding chairs) in local churches. Sure, I would love to be a part of the academic realm, but that is ultimately a secondary goal. My chief objective is to impact the Church...
Another part of this whole equation is my 6 month old learning disability diagnosis that I'm still working through. I don't even know if I'm capable of learning a second language. How in the heck am I supposed to decide what to do for grad school if I don't know if my mind is capable of meeting the requirements? If I can't, that pretty effectively rules out many (if not most) theology and history programs...
As a "twice exceptional learner" (meaning I'm simultaneously "gifted" and "learning disabled"), ya continually go back and forth feeling like a genius and an absolute moron. Right now, I'm feeling like I'm in the moron camp. I feel inadequate and stupid. I know I'm capable of thinking with the best of 'em, but I'm worried about that d*** GRE test. Rant: Standardized tests are not a good reflection of my abilities, yet they determine our whole freaking educational system. Those things have kicked my butt in the past and, frankly, I'm fearful that I'll never get a high enough GRE score to get into the dang programs I want. And even if I did, I can't process information fast enough to keep up with those students even if my critical thinking skills surpass them. How in the heck can I do grad school with a learning disability, especially those fields that I'm interested in? Is it impossible? I feel very, very small and deficient. There are so many times when I would give anything to just have a brain that was average just so I could be comfortably know my own abilities. This continual back and forth is just about enough to drive me nuts...
I'm feeling anxious about the future. I desperately want direction if not clear answers. I pray and get no (immediate) answers. I feel alone. Yeah, this is probably a learning experience that I'll look back on in a few months or years and realize that God was teaching me something amazing. And, in all sincerity, I look forward to that time. But right now I've got to level with ya: this sucks.
(I should mention that I have no intended destination with this post, much less a grand thesis that will tie it all together. I'm simply walking you through my life of late.)
Why am I depressed? In part, because I'm another freaking millennial who doesn't know what he wants to do with his life. It's not that I lack vision or passion. I've got that in spades. It's the lack of specific direction that is getting me. I definitively want to pursue grad work. Problem is that doesn't exactly nail down the future plans. There's that minor issue of what, precisely, I want to study the entire rest of my life.
As an interdisciplinary thinker, I'm having a tough time narrowing my interests down. In the past, I was certain that I wanted to study history. Today history is still in the mix but my options have expanded. To help figure out which route I want to go in, I've been doing a lot of reading since graduation. The books and articles cover all sorts of disciplines--history, theology, philosophy, psychology, anthropology, sociology, political science, law, the arts, etc. My hope had been that the process would illuminate what I'm most interested in; thus narrowing down my options. Unfortunately, the exact opposite is happening. My interest has only grown in each of areas, leaving me more up in the air than ever. It's enough to make a man want to curse...
I've been considering some advice that D.G. Hart gave at the American Evangelicalism Conference this past February: more people should consider doing an M.A. in theology not because that's what they'll end up studying professionally, but because it provides the foundation from which to see all the other disciplines as a Christian. It was an interesting thought and it's stuck with me. I think there's truth to what he was saying. In my estimate, too many Christians fail to think as biblically-literate persons. For example, it's no secret that I'm critical of a lot of "christian counseling" as being little more than secular psychology with a christian veneer. This is not to say that christian counselors can't learn things from secular psychologists and integrate them within their field, but I'm skeptical of their uncritical embrace of those principles as well as the fact that their faith appears to have done little to change their thought forms. Don't get me wrong, I'm not just knocking psychology. I think the same could be said of christian historians, philosophers, businessmen, etc. Anyway, all that is to say that I think maybe a M.A. in theology would be beneficial in the way it framed my perception of all the other disciplines. Maybe...
Another concern I have is local churches. Although I have no desire to serve as a pastor, I'm deeply concerned about the lack of theological training on most elder boards. In my experience, it's troublesome when one man controls the theological reigns of the local body. I aspire to someday be the sort of elder who can support the pastor as something of an equal and whose knowledge and (hopefully) wisdom can help to tangibly impact and guide the congregation...
However, I'm already 24-yrs old. (1/4 of my life has been after high school!) I just finished my undergrad degree and am taking at least one year off from school to work, pay down some debt, invest in my marriage, recharge, and work through some important issues that I didn't have time to wrestle with in college. By the time I actually get to grad school, I'll be at least 25. Do I really want to spend 2 yrs doing an M.A. in theology if I have no plans to actually use it professionally? Dang it, I'm starting to feel old...
I have a dirty little secret. Perhaps I'm a bit too pragmatic, but pure scholarship as its own end doesn't appeal to me. Yes, I think Christians should be engaged in the highest level of academia. Yes, I believe that Christians should worship God through the cultivation of their minds. Yes, I think there can be intrinsic value simply in using one's mind to its fullest ability. However, I dream of somehow, someway making a tangible impact upon the evangelical mind by serving as something of a bridge between the ivory towers of academia and the pews (or folding chairs) in local churches. Sure, I would love to be a part of the academic realm, but that is ultimately a secondary goal. My chief objective is to impact the Church...
Another part of this whole equation is my 6 month old learning disability diagnosis that I'm still working through. I don't even know if I'm capable of learning a second language. How in the heck am I supposed to decide what to do for grad school if I don't know if my mind is capable of meeting the requirements? If I can't, that pretty effectively rules out many (if not most) theology and history programs...
As a "twice exceptional learner" (meaning I'm simultaneously "gifted" and "learning disabled"), ya continually go back and forth feeling like a genius and an absolute moron. Right now, I'm feeling like I'm in the moron camp. I feel inadequate and stupid. I know I'm capable of thinking with the best of 'em, but I'm worried about that d*** GRE test. Rant: Standardized tests are not a good reflection of my abilities, yet they determine our whole freaking educational system. Those things have kicked my butt in the past and, frankly, I'm fearful that I'll never get a high enough GRE score to get into the dang programs I want. And even if I did, I can't process information fast enough to keep up with those students even if my critical thinking skills surpass them. How in the heck can I do grad school with a learning disability, especially those fields that I'm interested in? Is it impossible? I feel very, very small and deficient. There are so many times when I would give anything to just have a brain that was average just so I could be comfortably know my own abilities. This continual back and forth is just about enough to drive me nuts...
I'm feeling anxious about the future. I desperately want direction if not clear answers. I pray and get no (immediate) answers. I feel alone. Yeah, this is probably a learning experience that I'll look back on in a few months or years and realize that God was teaching me something amazing. And, in all sincerity, I look forward to that time. But right now I've got to level with ya: this sucks.
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