902...

...One oh-so-intriguing new addition to the curriculum!

by Meg Jenista, Contributing Editor

As an arguably jaded fourth-year M.Div student, I’ve learned not to expect too much from the first day of classes. The syllabus may clue me in to how stressful the quarter ahead will be. The introduction of classmates may clue me in to stories from a summer spent in far-away lands, like Canada. But I expect little by way of God’s voice speaking to me and the tears that sprang to my eyes on the first day of 902 – Theological Education as Formation for Ministry certainly caught me by surprise.

This tiny, one hour class is new on the course list this fall. Its catalog description goes a little something like this: “A continuation of 901 as taken by students in their final year of residence.” Equipped only with this stunningly vague class description and the Empire- State-Building-high expectations buttressed by students’ positive experience in Dr. David Rylaarsdam’s 901 – Theological Education as Formation for Ministry class, Dr. John Witvliet set about the task of preparing and organizing 902.

902 is the bookend course to Rylaarsdam’s 901. As such, it carries the same intentions, namely to learn to speak intentionally about spiritual formation in the context of classroom learning and to learn how to integrate the spiritual with the theological. Last spring, when Dr. Witvliet was assigned the task of teaching 902, he was excited to draw upon recent conversations about seminary pedagogy, within the CTS community as well as in collaboration with other practitioners of theological education. The result of this four-year seminary pedagogy research is a book, due to be published next year.

Always an economist and artist with words, Dr. Witvliet summarized the class in one word: Gratitude. He qualified the word by saying, “occasionally, gratitude is dismissed as mere sentimentality but the Apostle Paul’s command to ‘give thanks,’ may be the most muscular, prophetic and countercultural command in Scripture.” With a rueful look at the cane in his hand, he continued, “As with any muscle, gratitude has got to be exercised.”

Certainly, what I heard in that classroom on the first day of the course was gratitude. Listening to my cohorts, I heard a gratitude that surprised us all, I think. We learned in that first hour together that we are not the same people we were two or three years ago. Somewhere in the middle of paradigms, patristics and practical theology, God has shown up. We’ve heard gentle whispers. We’ve been knocked over the head. God is crazy enough to use theological tomes. God is crazier still to use our professors.

Together in 902, we have reviewed a seminary career’s worth of class notes. We’ve thought about the big picture and we’ve even prepared to prepare for our Oral Comprehensive exams. On Tuesdays at 9 am and Fridays at 10:40, students in their last year of the M.Div program invite the voice of every faculty member to participate in our gratitude. However, lest our gratitude slip into “mere sentimentality,” we also honestly name and confront the gaps in our education. Dr. Witvliet is quick to point out, however, that “Even Prof. Nydam would appreciate the way we do it.”

Of course, 902 is, on a practical level, more than the mere exercise of the gratitude muscle. It is also preparation for the oral comprehensive exams looming before students in their final year of seminary. So I had to ask, “What are the most common mistakes students make in their oral comps?”

“Not seeing (oral comps) as one of the best learning opportunities for ministry. They aren’t just a bar to be crossed but they are preparation for the whole picture.” It’s the chance we get to make the whole of our seminary education greater than the sum of all its parts. Practically speaking, though, Dr. Witvliet encourages students to internalize their learning rather than memorizing facts and also not to miss the forest for the details on the leaves.

What has been the greatest surprise for Dr. Witvliet in teaching this class? Without missing a beat, he answered, “How fun it is. I ask questions and I have no idea where they may lead. We have great conversations and I certainly learn more that I teach.”

Want to respond to this article? Send your letter to letters@kerux.org; see the guidelines for more information.