I survived, but it wasn't pretty.

This post was composed on December 20, 2010, just days after completing my final exams for the semester.  The experience of taking the exams sent me reeling...actually, the entire semester sent me reeling.  At any rate, I will also post some more current updates, but thought I'd share this very frank evaluation from me in the meantime, albeit a little after the fact.

"I apologize for the very long interval since my last post.  If I remember correctly, my last post was about midterm time, before I completely lost my mind.  I'll try to update you, briefly, about what has transpired since then, but it might take more than one post to do it.

"Well, midterms really sent me for a loop.  I had two midterm exams that I did very well on, but I also wrote a paper for my Patristics class that I was not happy with the grade I received at all.  By 'not happy,' I mean 'devastated.'  The rest of the semester has followed in much the same vein, of one insult to my ego after another.  In a way, it's almost comical.  Last week I was talking to a fellow seminarian about the experience of trying so hard and not ever being the best, and he said it has been a humbling experience for him.  "It's a fine line between humbling and humiliating," I replied, "and I'm on the wrong side of it these days."  I don't mean to be dramatic, but it's true.  The most prevalent lesson I have learned (am still learning) so far is that I'm not the "best" anymore.  And I can't even hope to be here.  My classmates are professional runners, renown musicians, published poets and novelists, not to mention some of the nicest and most interesting people I've ever met.  I've got nothing on that.  The picture on my Facebook profile says it all: "Mediocrity. Because you are going to suck at it anyway, you might as well stay in bed."  I'll be really frank about this whole thing.  Yale makes people crazy!  It's one thing to read about these polymaths in magazines and see them on television, but to have to compete with them in class is another thing altogether.  It really only makes matters worse that they are all so nice.  You can't even hate them!

"Well, enough candor for one post.  Hysterics aside, this place is really tough.  I have never worked so hard in my entire life, and its not like I've spent a lot of time resting on my laurels.  Hard work is brought to a whole new level here.  I always thought that my "best" was really pretty good, but it's only marginal here.  And my "very best" is still nowhere near the top of the class.  I'm holding out hope for me "very, very, very best," but that might be grasping at straws."

Myth #1: Seminary is Easy

If this is true, I want to know what seminary it is so I can see what's so different about it than what happens here at Yale.  My inclination is that it wasn't a priest who started this nasty rumor.  Having just survived my first midterms, I can vouch for the fact that not only is seminary challenging on a personal and spiritual level, but it is academically difficult too.  I can honestly say that I have never worked so hard in my life, and I worked pretty hard to get here. 

I have taken two midterm exams, one for Old Testament Interpretation [sample midterm question: "The land must not be sold beyond reclaim, for the land is mine; you are but strangers resident with me." Yeah, that was the question!], and one for Transitional Moments in Western Christian History [where I had to write an essay contrasting Augustine's and the Abitinian Martyr's conceptions of authority].  I also wrote twenty pages about Origen's views of freewill, his Christology, the trinity, the Holy Spirit, the soul, and apokatastasis (have you ever even heard this word before?!?!), which I eventually crafted into an eight-and-a-half page paper titled, "Origen, Freewill, and the Holy Spirit."  This paper was simultaneously the most exciting and most frustrating paper I have ever written.  On the one hand, I'm ready to sell the farm and dedicate myself to studying Origen, but on the other hand, I feel like I wrote circles around my thesis before finally arriving at it, which involved writing many pages of work that I couldn't even use in the end.  I hope that was just part of the learning curve of getting used to writing papers again, because I cannot continue to write that way in the future...I just don't have the time to write my papers three times over.

Nevertheless, I survived relatively unscathed.  Of course, I haven't received grades for any of my work yet, so I hope I'm not speaking out of turn by saying I think it went well.  In the end, I can definitely say that I did my best.  I truly worked as hard as I could, which I think is all God is really asking of me.  After all, God isn't waiting for me at the end of the term expecting to see my report card, but rather, God is walking alongside me while I struggle through these difficult tasks.  Tonight I read in Joshua 22:5, "Take good care to observe the commandment and instruction that Moses the servant of the LORD commanded you, to love the LORD your God, to walk in all his ways, to keep his commandments, and to hold fast to him, and to serve him with all your heart and with all your soul."  In Micah 6:8 we are told, "What does the LORD require of you, but to do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God."  Amazing!  What an amazing God we have, that all He requires of us is to walk in His ways no matter what we undertake. 

This is not to say that we have no part in our successes or failures, because God will always provide for us.  Certainly, I can't expect to ace my tests if I don't prepare for them by going to class and taking notes, studying all of my readings, and dedicating ample time to understanding the material.  But it's the attendance, the reading, and the dedication that God requires, not the 'A'.  Furthermore, as a wife and mother, in addition to a student, God doesn't require me only to study and write papers.  God has given me a family to care for and enjoy as well!  So, this past Saturday I spent 9 hours curled up on a couch in front of a cozy fireplace on campus reading, making review cards, and studying for the midterm I took on Monday; and on Sunday I took the whole day off.  We rented a car and drove up the coast to see the leaves changing color and to eat at a little clam shack in Mystic Seaport.  It was a wonderful, rejuvenating day, and I didn't study the whole time.  I put the work in for my class by attending all the lectures, keeping abreast of all the readings, and spending a good amount of time studying (not cramming), and it was time to put in some work elsewhere.  I think in the end I was all the better for it come test time, too!    

Midterms!

All good things must come to an end.  Thus went the novelty and excitement of seminary, leaving instead a corpus of sleeplessness, stress, and a very messy house.  Yes, it's that time of the semester, when the fun of attending class lectures and lazily reading away the day gives way to the pressure of producing evidence of your knowledge and thoughts, concisely, systematically, and eloquently.

The view from my reading carrel in the library

There are many ways I've seen of dealing with this pressure.  I had a friend once who said her apartment was never cleaner than when she had a final to write.  Some prefer to put off the writing and studying, preferring to do it with the excitement of procrastination.  Of my classmates, several have been traveling this week, and others have been enjoying some relaxing time in the absence of classes (it's "Reading Week" so there are no classes this week).  I, on the other hand, have been holed up in the library or planted at my desk at home trying to elucidate the meaning of Origen's On First Principles while formulating some thesis with which to actually start writing my paper.  And for some reason, although I feel like I know the text inside and out, and I have truly enjoyed learning about the "rule of faith" that Origen prescribes, I have had the damnedest time trying to figure out what to write about.  Consequently, I did not actually begin writing my paper until yesterday morning.  Sixteen hours later, I have only written about half of it, but have outlined the arguments for the rest of the paper. 

In the meantime, the house has fallen to pieces, which I think is alright since all the kids went to bed happy and fed, and at least the dishwasher was run.  Picking up the pieces after I return from my little midterm hiatus will be a whole other project to undertake, one which I will celebrate as it will mean the majority of my immediate demands have been met.  Until then I am left to wrestle with the work that needs to be done, and the stress of having yet to finish it.  I am reminded of Sisyphus, who rolled a boulder up a hill over and over again for all of eternity.  Likewise, once the midterms are over, its just a short while before the same stresses and expectations will resurface in the culmination of final papers and exams.  After Christmas break, it will all start again, ad infinitum until I finally graduate.  I hate to mention it, but that's still three years away.

OK, I've painted a rather grim picture, and I really don't feel as dismal as this might sound, but the weight is heavy indeed.  This feeling is a familiar one, though, as I am remember its ebbs and flows from my undergraduate days, which were not altogether too long ago.   But here is the saving grace.  Whereas I was always concerned with perfection in my undergraduate years, because I knew I would be judged by my work when applying to graduate schools, I no longer have this expectation.  Here I am! And God (and perhaps my husband) forbid that I should suffer need of another graduate degree after this one.   What a relief.  Not that it doesn't matter at all, but it matters more what I get from what I am doing in the here and now, than what it will afford me in the future.  Almost simultaneous with this epiphany, I realized that this isn't an all or nothing proposition (you all might be shocked to know that I am a bit of a perfectionist).  If my midterm Patristics paper, or my Old Testament exams don't garner the highest grade available, it is still possible to do well--and that might in fact be good enough.  This last part is harder for me to embrace, but I'm working at it. 

Origen writes, "Every mind which partakes of intellectual light ought undoubtedly to be of one nature with every mind which partakes in a similar manner of intellectual light." (the highest intellectual light being God) So, onward toward the light go I.

A Kitchen Moment

When I am at home, I'm either at my desk or in the kitchen.  My desk is situated at the front of our apartment, right in front of a bank of windows that looks out onto the street.  It's a lovely place to sit and read, or type away on the computer.  When I'm in the kitchen, however, I am seldom sitting down.  I'm usually cooking a meal, washing dishes, or cleaning up; but some of my most insightful or revelatory thoughts come to me as I'm cleaning up after dinner or cooking breakfast--I call these my kitchen moments.

I was telling my Spiritual Direction group about one of the most recent "kitchen moments" just the other day.  As we went around the room taking time to check in with everybody about what is happening in all of our lives, it became clear that we are all feeling a bit overwhelmed--not just with the amount of work we are all doing (which is A LOT right now as we head into midterms in about a week), but also with the sheer weight of being here.  As I'm mentioned, seminary entails a much larger personal commitment than most other graduate programs, the pressure of which is starting to build (although I hear it's much worse in your second year when you also have to do "field work" 10 hours a week).  Anyway, many of us are feeling this in some way or another, and as a group we were discussing how we are being affected by it, and how we are coping with it.

So, how am I coping with it?  Well, self care is the buzz-word that comes to mind.  We're all supposed to be taking really good care of ourselves so we don't get too stressed out, whether this is getting enough exercise, eating healthily, or taking the time to see a therapist or counselor.  In reality, we often invoke the reason of "self care" when we excuse ourselves from doing something that we just don't want to do.  Why, I wondered at ten o'clock the other night, as I ironed fifteen purificators into nine-fold perfectly symmetrical little squares, did I not plead "self care" when I was asked to be on Altar Guild?!  But I digress.  I guess the point is that we talk a good talk, but it's sometimes easier to keep going, and keep saying 'yes' than it is to stop and reflect on what we really need, and how to provide it for ourselves.  This, I know.

And I haven't really figured out what my own method of self care is, but I have grown into a perspective that helps me keep myself in check when I start to feel overwhelmed with the mounting stresses of student life/family life/personal life.  Thus, the kitchen moment.

Eli and I were standing in the kitchen getting dinner together after a long day, when I looked at him and realized that I don't come home to cook dinner, help the kids with their homework, rock the baby to sleep, and wash dishes with my husband while we chat about our day as some kind of aside to the "real" job of being in seminary.  Rather, I work hard all day (and sometimes all night) attending classes and studying, hiding in the library to squeeze my reading time to the last drop, and working on homework assignments and papers past midnight some nights so that the rest of the time I can really be with my family.  They are my support and my reason for working so hard, and my inspiration when things are difficult.  What it's really all about for me, is them.

After reflecting on this during my Spiritual Direction group, I came home to be greeted with the following message, written in blue chalk on the sidewalk in the front of our apartment: "I love mom."  God works in mysterious ways, His wonders to behold!  Amen.

Like a chicken with its head cut off or like a one-armed paper-hanger: A day in the life of an ordinary seminarian.

You can take your pick of metaphors, but no matter how you slice it (so to speak) you've lost a body part.  I prefer to think I've not lost my head just yet...although that might be just around the corner.   Now, I knew that going to graduate school would be hard.  And I knew that going to Yale would be hard (they really let you know that here during orientation).  And I knew that it would be hard to do all of these things while also raising a small clan and getting dinner on the table every night, shopping, cleaning, socializing, and being "mom".  So it comes as no surprise that I have a lot to do!

Marvin the "Marcion"

Yesterday, for instance, was a typical Wednesday for me.  My day officially began at 7:30AM with Morning Prayer at St. Luke's, which is the Berkeley Divinity School's chapel.  From there I went up to school to prepare for my classes, which begin at 9:30AM.  After finishing up some very exciting reading from the Old Testament book of Exodus--"Make one cherub at one end, and one cherub at the other; of one piece with the mercy-seat^* you shall make the cherubim at its two ends...."--I went to my first class--Old Testament Interpretation.  This class is great!  The professor is hilarious--imagine Seinfeld as an Old Testament scholar--and the material, though dry at times, is fascinating.  From there I went to the library to read the rest of Sozomen Scholasticus' Ecclesiastical History, before going to my next class, Western Christian History to 451.  This class is also wonderful!  The professor once showed a clip of "Thriller" to illustrate what the Romans thought of the early Christians (as cannibals and people who worship the dead), and the heretic Marcion often shows up in his PowerPoint as Marvin the Martian.  After class I go to lunch in the Refectory to dine with my fellow students, and an occasional professor or dean.  Everyone at YDS has a meal plan, which is included as a mandatory fee with your tuition, and sharing meals together is really encouraged.  However, the food in the Refectory is not exactly 'gourmet', so I often bring my leftovers (which are still pretty good these days...we haven't resorted to ramen noodles just yet) and eat with my friends.

After lunch I went to my Christian History section meeting, which is the discussion group that meets once a week in addition to the two lectures in class each week.  The section meetings are nice because there is no discussion time during the class periods, and very little time for questions after the lecture, so this is where you actually get to talk about the readings with a small group.  When my section lets out I run, literally, home to relieve the nanny and meet the boys after school.

Every Wednesday evening the Berkeley Divinity School holds their weekly community Eucharist celebration in the Marquand chapel on the main Yale Divinity School campus.  It's like the Berkeley community's Sunday morning.  This particular Wednesday I was an acolyte at the bilingual service which was presided over by a Hispanic priest from a nearby town.  Because I was an acolyte I had to be at church early to get robed, go over the routine, and help out with last minute details, etc.  Because Eli wasn't going to be home by the time I needed to leave, we had a babysitter come over to fill in the gap.  Noah and Aristotle love to meet new people, and were thrilled to have my friend come over to the house, but poor Mary Frances was not so happy.  At any rate, I made it to church on time and everything went smoothly with the service, although I have to say, those torches are heavy!

After the service, everyone is invited to come to the Berkeley Center for a simple community dinner.  Eli and the kids met me there and we had dinner together with some of the new friends we have made since we arrived.  By the time I got home, it was nearly nine o' clock at night, and I had been gone from the house, save for an hour between when the nanny left and the babysitter arrived, since almost seven in the morning.  This, in turn, meant that I still had to finish up a homework assignment that was due the following morning and complete all of the readings for the next day.  By nine at night, there's only so much a woman can do. I did finish the assignment, but some of the readings got put on the back burner until this weekend when I'll get to them again.

All of this is to say that I have a lot to do, not just on Wednesdays, but every day!  It's a lot to keep up with.  When I showed up with fresh baked scones at morning prayer the other week someone said, "I don't know how you do it all."  I get this question a lot.  Others will say, "I don't know how you go to school and have three kids, etc., etc., etc.," or "you must be Superwoman." And here is my answer:  The Holy Spirit.  It's as simple as that.  I don't do it alone, and it is only with the Grace of God and the power of the Holy Spirit that I am able to do anything that I do, let alone that I am able to do it well.  The Spirit works in my friends and family who support me, in my wonderful husband and ever-encouraging kids.  The Spirit gives me rest at night, and the fortitude to get through all the readings, write my papers, and sometimes be able to bake a batch of banana bread.  Today in chapel we were asked to write on a note card a reply to the following question: "What does the Holy Spirit do in your life?"  Everything!  Thanks be to God!

I believe in person to person. Every person is Christ for me, and since there is only one Jesus, that person is the one person in the world at that moment. Mother Teresa

It is not ourselves that we proclaim; we proclaim Christ Jesus as Lord, and ourselves as your servants, for Jesus’ sake. For the same God who said, “Out of the darkness let light shine,” has caused his light to shine within us, to give the light of revelation—the revelation of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ. 2 Corinthians: 4-6

On Wednesday after I picked the boys up from school, we decided to go on a little field trip downtown. From where we live, which is near the seminary, the downtown area, which houses the main Yale College, is about a mile away. It is easily walkable, but we chose this time to hop on the Yale shuttle to get us there. The Chaplain’s Office is a little, out of the way nook, tucked in the basement of one of the residential colleges. It’s not well marked, and you could easily miss it, but it’s worth visiting if for no other reason than the free ice cream. I may be a respectable mother of three, but I’m also a poor grad student, and free ice cream is free ice cream, if you know what I mean. The boys could hardly decide between chocolate bars, rocket pops, and push-ups. I went straight for the ice cream sandwich! After ponderously making our selections, we headed outside to eat our treats on a little grassy area in the warm New England sun. Afterward we meandered across campus trying to find a shuttle stop to get back home in time for the weekly Berkeley Community Eucharist and dinner.

We piled onto a very crowded shuttle and headed to the back looking for any empty seats. At five in the evening, there were none to be had, but a few people, seeing our small clan and me juggling a wriggling baby, offered up their seats. Seeing that the gentleman sitting next to me was fiddling with his iPhone, Noah said, “Hey, is that the new iPhone?” The man very politely extended his hand to Noah and offered him the phone. It was indeed! Being the tech-guru that Noah is (which is funny, really, since we don’t even own a television), he rattled off all kinds of info about this guy’s phone, while the man and the passengers sitting near us chuckled at the exchange. Noah really is the social ambassador for our family. He ropes us into talking to all sorts of people that we probably never would have occasion to otherwise. This short bus ride and the light repartee between all of us who were otherwise strangers was unexpectedly poignant.

Charmed by Noah’s innocent boldness, the woman sitting on the other side of the man with the iPhone, who, as it happens, is a pediatrician, joined our conversation and remarked on how bright and charming both the boys and Mary Frances seemed to be. Upon finding out that I am a student at the Divinity School, she turned to me and said, “I would have guessed that about you.” I really didn’t know what to say, but I gave a little laugh and continued talking about my program. The pediatrician came to his stop and got off the bus, and the woman and I continued talking—she about her adolescent son, and me about mine. A few streets later, as I rose to exit the bus, this woman very warmly looked me in the face. “Pray for me,” she said, “I have a story.” “I will pray for you,” was all I could muster before heading down the isle. As I descended the first step I looked back at her to say, “Come and find me, I’m at the seminary.” Before the doors closed behind me she shouted across the still full bus, “What’s your name?” Wanting to be certain she heard me, I shouted back and then quickly stepped to the sidewalk.

This brief interaction—the interplay between Noah and the man, the amusement of the onlookers, and the simple words of the woman whose name I never even got—stirred something inside of me. I prayed for the un-named woman, for her unknown story, and for the hope that we’d meet again. And I thanked God for such a simple revelation of grace. Amen.

You know you're a seminarian when...

You know you’re a seminarian when you’ve been dreaming about the Deuteronomic and Priestly sources of the Old Testament—or should I say, the OT. Though my seminary experience began just a couple of weeks ago, my daily routine here at Yale Divinity School, and the Berkeley Divinity School at Yale, has begun in earnest and my days have already been taken up with various worship services, evangelism meetings, student journal meeting, spiritual direction groups, intramural sports teams, and, oh yeah—classes! Most wonderfully, despite my newness to the area and the school, I have an overwhelming feeling of being “at home” here. The feeling of welcome has not only been extended to me, but to our whole family as well. My husband and kids have been invited into the community with open arms—Noah and Aristotle have made themselves right at home! Furthermore, we have all found new friends in the people we have met so far.

Along with the greatness of opportunity and blessing that has greeted me as a student, has also come commitments and responsibilities that a typical graduate student would never be expected to fulfill. A typical weekday for me begins at 7:30AM for Morning Prayer, followed by coffee hour and a short hike up the hill from St. Luke's chapel for classes at 9:30AM. There is, at mid-morning, another opportunity for corporate worship in the ecumenical Marquand Chapel. Between these two options, a student had better be at one or both of these nearly every day! I’m not sure who, but someone’s watching! While some grumble about the inconvenience of this, or worry that their encroaching coursework and reading will not allow for daily attendance at worship, I find the expectation to be much more a blessing than a trouble. While coursework will change from semester to semester, and the burden of mounting readings and papers will ebb and flow throughout individual semesters, the consistent frame of chapel and community worship will always provide a spiritual home and a beacon of our hope as seminarians to come together in the glory of God, and of God’s son, our savior, Jesus Christ. Recognizing that such statements are easily made in the absence of final exams, term papers, and impending application deadlines, I hope at those times to remember that we are continually called to renewal in the sacrament of the Eucharist, and that it is precisely when we feel we have the least time to spare that we most need to come to Christ’s table. Recognizing this tendency, we pray:

Deliver us from the presumption of coming to this Table for solace only, and not for strength; for pardon only, and not for renewal. (emphasis added) Eucharistic Prayer C, Rite II of the Book of Common Prayer (p. 272)

Amen.