Changes in theological education
25/09/14 04:53
It probably isn’t a topic that lay persons consider much, but lately I’ve had several conversations with colleagues about the changing nature of academic theological education. Yesterday’s conversation began with the report of a colleague who had just completed an annual return to her theological seminary. Every year since graduation a small group of classmates have gathered for the annual alumni lectures, and also to reconnect, share experiences from the parish, and provide support. Over the years, there have been new babies, stories of personal loss, struggles adjusting to pastoral placements and many other topics. Mostly, it has been a time of experiencing the support of colleagues and the joy of engaging in conversation with people who have shared a journey of study, discovery and call to ministry.
I’ve never been very big on reunions. I haven’t invested much time or energy in going back to the institutions that I attended. But I do have strong life-long connections with classmates. There are people with whom we have been connected for decades as we shared ministry in different locations.
I know that similar relationships from my seminary won’t be part of the future for contemporary students. When I attended seminary, it was a three-year residential school. Students were expected to invest the three years that it took to earn a M.Div. degree in full time study, living in one of the seminary’s dorm rooms or apartments. These days the seminary doesn’t have any dorm rooms. It doesn’t have any apartments. It has a new “state of the art” classroom building that is intended to be used three days a week. The rest of the time students are at their homes. The seminary is a commuter campus.
Gone are the days of eating, sleeping, and living the intensity of theological education. Gone are the days of forming a worshipping community that exists for the purpose of intense academic inquiry. Gone are the days of reading the same books at the same time and then discussing their meaning with classmates.
I can’t say whether the change is good or bad, but it is definitely different.
The number of pastors in our conference who have completed graduate theological education continues to decrease. What at one point was a trickle of pastors who had collected other life experiences and substituted them for the rigors of academic preparation now is a flood. Most of our rural congregations are served by persons who have not attended theological seminary. The tradition of an educated clergy, which in our denomination goes back hundreds of years, is slowly being replaced by other forms of training and equipping ministers.
Ministers are certainly differently equipped these days. Many have more business background that we did. The challenges of being the administrator of a nonprofit corporation, learning to estimate income from donations and managing tight budgets was a tough learning curve for me, one mostly accomplished after graduation from seminary. Today’s candidates for the ministry often arrive equipped with years of experience in budgeting and finance. They often are used to a different kind of budgeting and find that many principles that apply to small businesses don’t necessarily work in voluntary organizations, but they know how to read a spreadsheet.
On the other hand, we knew the history of the church and the history of theological thought. We came into the parish equipped with significant skills for reading, translating, and studying the bible. We knew the heritage of our denomination and the theological commitments we shared with other Christians. I am often struck in conversation with some of the newer pastors in our church at what seems to me to be a total ignorance of the history of philosophy and theological thought. Many of the significant interpretations and ideas of our church have a long and rich heritage. Some ideas are hard-fought and the result of generations of study and experience. One wonders if some of those experiences, which take several generations, will have to be repeated because the institution is losing its memory.
The commitment to the academic life also creates differences. I have read most of the books used as texts in contemporary seminaries. I read constantly and feel an obligation to keep up in my field. I belong to and have been active in organizing a book club of ministers specifically for the purpose of keeping current. My reading builds on a foundation of disciplined reading of theological topics that began in my seminary days. Whereas I’ve read the books today’s students are reading, they haven’t read the books that we read.
There are, of course, drawbacks to an intensely academic life. Academicians often lack practical skills. They sometimes have trouble connecting with the real-world lives of their parishioners. There is a kind of academic elitism that has no place in the community of believers. We have been called “stuffy” and the adjective sometimes is very appropriate.
I am told that the high cost of academic education will continue to force changes in the way we do theological education in the church. There are already seminaries that offer degrees with minimal time on campus. I have a colleague who is earning a degree with just a few weeks each year on campus. The rest of the study is done from home by correspondence. Of course they don’t call Internet education “correspondence” any more, but the teaching and learning techniques are very similar. An assignment is made and the student submits a written response. It is now possible to earn a degree without ever setting foot on campus - which is a good thing because the schools don’t really have campuses any more. A rented office building suffices for many schools.
There is nothing gained by whining and complaining about the changes. There is a sense of loss that comes with some of those changes and grief is an appropriate response to loss. But together, regardless of our different seminary experiences, we are called to build the future of the church. And the future is always different than the past.
Increasingly, however, I feel a call to be a voice and a contributor to the remembering of that past. As we embrace the new future to which we are being called by God, it seems sensible to remember the past and the faithfulness that has brought us to this time and place.
I’ve never been very big on reunions. I haven’t invested much time or energy in going back to the institutions that I attended. But I do have strong life-long connections with classmates. There are people with whom we have been connected for decades as we shared ministry in different locations.
I know that similar relationships from my seminary won’t be part of the future for contemporary students. When I attended seminary, it was a three-year residential school. Students were expected to invest the three years that it took to earn a M.Div. degree in full time study, living in one of the seminary’s dorm rooms or apartments. These days the seminary doesn’t have any dorm rooms. It doesn’t have any apartments. It has a new “state of the art” classroom building that is intended to be used three days a week. The rest of the time students are at their homes. The seminary is a commuter campus.
Gone are the days of eating, sleeping, and living the intensity of theological education. Gone are the days of forming a worshipping community that exists for the purpose of intense academic inquiry. Gone are the days of reading the same books at the same time and then discussing their meaning with classmates.
I can’t say whether the change is good or bad, but it is definitely different.
The number of pastors in our conference who have completed graduate theological education continues to decrease. What at one point was a trickle of pastors who had collected other life experiences and substituted them for the rigors of academic preparation now is a flood. Most of our rural congregations are served by persons who have not attended theological seminary. The tradition of an educated clergy, which in our denomination goes back hundreds of years, is slowly being replaced by other forms of training and equipping ministers.
Ministers are certainly differently equipped these days. Many have more business background that we did. The challenges of being the administrator of a nonprofit corporation, learning to estimate income from donations and managing tight budgets was a tough learning curve for me, one mostly accomplished after graduation from seminary. Today’s candidates for the ministry often arrive equipped with years of experience in budgeting and finance. They often are used to a different kind of budgeting and find that many principles that apply to small businesses don’t necessarily work in voluntary organizations, but they know how to read a spreadsheet.
On the other hand, we knew the history of the church and the history of theological thought. We came into the parish equipped with significant skills for reading, translating, and studying the bible. We knew the heritage of our denomination and the theological commitments we shared with other Christians. I am often struck in conversation with some of the newer pastors in our church at what seems to me to be a total ignorance of the history of philosophy and theological thought. Many of the significant interpretations and ideas of our church have a long and rich heritage. Some ideas are hard-fought and the result of generations of study and experience. One wonders if some of those experiences, which take several generations, will have to be repeated because the institution is losing its memory.
The commitment to the academic life also creates differences. I have read most of the books used as texts in contemporary seminaries. I read constantly and feel an obligation to keep up in my field. I belong to and have been active in organizing a book club of ministers specifically for the purpose of keeping current. My reading builds on a foundation of disciplined reading of theological topics that began in my seminary days. Whereas I’ve read the books today’s students are reading, they haven’t read the books that we read.
There are, of course, drawbacks to an intensely academic life. Academicians often lack practical skills. They sometimes have trouble connecting with the real-world lives of their parishioners. There is a kind of academic elitism that has no place in the community of believers. We have been called “stuffy” and the adjective sometimes is very appropriate.
I am told that the high cost of academic education will continue to force changes in the way we do theological education in the church. There are already seminaries that offer degrees with minimal time on campus. I have a colleague who is earning a degree with just a few weeks each year on campus. The rest of the study is done from home by correspondence. Of course they don’t call Internet education “correspondence” any more, but the teaching and learning techniques are very similar. An assignment is made and the student submits a written response. It is now possible to earn a degree without ever setting foot on campus - which is a good thing because the schools don’t really have campuses any more. A rented office building suffices for many schools.
There is nothing gained by whining and complaining about the changes. There is a sense of loss that comes with some of those changes and grief is an appropriate response to loss. But together, regardless of our different seminary experiences, we are called to build the future of the church. And the future is always different than the past.
Increasingly, however, I feel a call to be a voice and a contributor to the remembering of that past. As we embrace the new future to which we are being called by God, it seems sensible to remember the past and the faithfulness that has brought us to this time and place.