I just completed, or shall I say survived, my first three weeks of seminary. I navigated classes filled with men and women much, much younger than I, assuring several that it’s okay to call me Cas. Mrs. Monaco or Ma’am is way too formal, and reminds me that I look as old as I feel. My body is adjusting to carrying a backpack. Last night I tried to sooth my aching back with heat and ice with my legs propped on a stack of pillows. I had to laugh. Being a student is a lot of work at 52.
Going to school is kind of like riding a bike. This time, however, I don’t view the opportunity as drudgery, but as a pure privilege. I look forward to cracking open the books when I get home, and can’t help but keep up with my reading. I’m fascinated by Hermeneutics, and learning Greek thrills me. I can’t wait to read the Word in its original language (which, by the way, is going to take awhile).
For the past thirty two years I’ve been studying the Bible on my own, always motivated to dig into scripture. I’ve practiced bible study methods, enjoyed the help of well-written, expertly researched commentaries. I’ve benefitted from scholars and teachers far more learned than I. So, the foundation has been laid, and I feel more grateful than ever for the men and women who taught me the bible and modeled lives of faith rooted and grounded in God’s Word.
What I’ve loved about sitting in each class is that the gaps in my personal education are being filled in. Connections are being made and the whole is coming into view. I imagine a preparing a wall for a beautiful tile mosaic, a backsplash. The intent of the artist, and the intricacy of the design, never fully comes into view until the joints are completely filled with well-mixed grout.
Theological grout is bringing the detail of God’s design, His character, the story of the redemption of the whole world, into view.