A vicious affliction...

Yesterday was the first day of my second year of seminary. God willin’ and the creek don’t rise, I’ll be done in 3 years. So, with more than 40 units under my belt at this point, you’d think I was used to the way things went. But yesterday was a little different.

See, for the first time in my seminary education, I had the experience that most people associate with first year, first day. I’d heard it was a malady so vicious that it even breaks down the third floor library-dwellers, the ones whose eyes can’t decide if they should be reading right to left or left to right, who gesture during every conversation as though it was their senior sermon, who quote Calvin and Luther when asked about high-speed internet. I had the most dreaded of seminary experiences. I had syllabus shock. Looking at the syllabi I collected yesterday, with Greek being the most vile offender, I was convinced it wasn't possible. This is the very definition of syllabus shock.

It’s a very formidable opponent, one that some can never overcome. (We hear rumors of students “transferring,” a process somewhat like being deported, as I understand it.) It leaves you convinced that “these people [professors] have lost their minds,” “there isn’t enough time in the week,” “I guess I’ll have to give up showering and sleeping.” You become certain that every professor congregated for the faculty summit before the year began and the theme was “The Destruction of the Student: Developing a Plan.”

So, I got in the car after Greek yesterday, firmly convinced that I was destined to fail seminary, becoming one of the cautionary stories that first-year students hear at orientation. “This place isn’t for everyone. You’ve got to be ready to make sacrifices, and if you’re not, well, let me tell you a story…”

Funny thing, though. By the time I got home, and talked to my wife a bit (typically the best medicine), things didn’t look so bad anymore. I began to realize that I had gotten through a year already, and had begun to think I’d done it on my own. But, in truth, there’s no way I’d done it on my own. God’s grace was sufficient for last year, and it will be again for this year. I began to realize that through my eyes and on my own strength, yeah, those syllabi are outrageous, but I can’t look at them with my own eyes and wouldn’t dare rely on my own strength. His power is made perfect in my weakness, which is good because I’ve got plenty of weakness. I’ve decided that I will make it through this semester, and the next three, but only if I rely on His strength and power. As soon as I start relying on my own strength, the author of the cautionary tale can pick up his pen.

So, things look better today. I’m still not excited about Greek, but it’s not going to be my undoing, and that’s good enough to get me through today. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to do some homework. And, yes, I have already showered.

“But He said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.” – 2 Corinthians 12:9-10