...or you can let it come to you.

[This is the second of two posts that center around my recent vocational discernment. If you haven't read part one, jump over here first!]

Then, in January, I started this work in Admissions. This work that involves entering data into a difficult-to-navigate database, learning an endless stream of acronyms, and plenty of paper cuts.

This work that involves walking with others as they discern God's call in their lives, matching prospective students with current students who are eager to share their experiences, and being surrounded by an incredibly gifted team every day.

And then, less than three weeks after this dream-job interview, I became sure that God can call us to more than one thing.

So, until May 2013, I will live into this new knowledge by serving as the Associate Director of Admissions right here, at the seminary that has helped me understand the breadth and depth of serving God. It's funny: I have been so eagerly anticipating the end of my life as a full-time student, all the while dreading the thought of leaving this community. God so fully, fully provides.

At my endorsement interview last April, the pastor who was then serving as an Assistant to the Bishop (who is, in a delightful twist of fate, my new boss) recommended that I consider the possibility of serving in campus ministry at some point in my career. I was overjoyed at this suggestion, because at its heart, campus ministry entails walking alongside young adults as they figure out what it means to follow God's leading, to fully live into the vocations to which they have been called, and that aspect of ministry has always excited me. During the next chapter of my life, I will get to do exactly that, but with young adults, "regular" adults (whatever that means!), and even much older adults, all of whom are God's beloved children. In a roundabout way, this is precisely what I have always felt God calling me to do, it just looks a little different than I imagined. And it, too, feels like home.

I feel incredibly privileged to be able to serve in this capacity for the next two years. This call will afford me the opportunity to travel around the country to engage in conversation about discernment and hear the different and beautiful ways in which God calls God's people to public ministry. And when I return from these excursions, I will settle back into life on the Ridge and remember why I came here in the first place: because I so clearly see God at work here, and that, my friends, gives me great hope.

NB: The titles for this post and the one before it come from Sometimes a Beggar by Caedmon's Call, off of their latest album, Raising Up The Dead. Good stuff.

Endorsed & Edified

Recently, I wrote about processing the process. At the time, I was struggling with penning my endorsement essay (endorsement being the next step towards rostered leadership in the ELCA). At the time, it seemed overwhelming and scary and I wasn't sure I could jump that hurdle. Luckily, I finished the essay the next day, giving me time to sit with it, have colleagues read over it, make the necessary revisions and submit it to my synod. Then, I began the waiting game; for two weeks, I went about my schoolwork, trying not to be nervous about the interview that loomed in the near future.

This past week was particularly stressful. I had a comprehensive exam on Monday, a book to be read and a paper to be written by Tuesday, and on Thursday, I handed in a huge exegetical paper that kept me in the library until 3:35 a.m. I was exhausted by the time Thursday night rolled around, and try as I might, I could not fall asleep for hours. Chalk it up to nerves or the copious amount of coffee I consumed on Thursday, but while I lay awake, all I could think about was my pending interview. I had no idea what to expect and was terrified that I would give an incorrect answer or make an unintentionally heretical theological statement.

Friday came soon enough, and after reading through my essay several times and receiving the affirmations of classmates and professors, I walked confidently to the location of my interview and was delighted to see the two members of my committee with whom I am most comfortable. After talking amongst themselves for a few minutes, I sat down with the members of my committee and a faculty member, and we engaged in one of the most life-giving conversations I've ever had. I'm not sure if I'm allowed to post what they asked, so we'll play it safe and just say that we talked about the various areas in which I have grown over the past year, and how my theological education has impacted my understanding of youth ministry. I realized new things about myself during the interview, and it has given me a renewed understanding of my own call to ministry. My personal victory? I didn't cry once. If you know me, you understand the significance!

Going into the interview, as I said, I was scared and overwhelmed. I came out on the other side refreshed and excited. The exact opposite of what I expected to happen. This says something about not letting our expectations dictate our experiences, and I think it was an important lesson to learn. But even more, I think I finally realized the core benefit of the Candidacy process. Certainly, it is in place to evaluate our qualifications to be rostered leaders and track our progress during theological education, but I think it's much deeper than that. The process can edify us. It can point to our baptism and remind us of how deeply it is connected to what we are doing now, and what we will do in the future.

Maybe I have a fantasy-like picture of how endorsement should go, but I can only speak from my own experience. My advice, for what it's worth, is to go into these interviews with an open mind and a willingness to learn new things about yourself, all while being true to who you are. Trust the process and seek the support of the great cloud of witnesses who are praying for you to have a positive experience. Breathe in, breathe out, and remember that you are a child of God.

Oh, and the results of my interview? I was recommended for endorsement by the members of my committee, and they will take their decision back to the full committee, who will vote on it in the near future. God is so faithful :]

Processing the process

In order to gain admittance to many of the degree programs offered by ELCA seminaries, you are required to be in the Candidacy process. Those of us who are immersed in it often roll our eyes or groan when someone unfamiliar with the process asks what it is. So here is the brief version (and I promise I neither groaned nor rolled my eyes; I am in a library after all):

Candidacy is the process through which synods (regional groupings of ELCA congregations) evaluate a candidate's readiness for ministry. There are three steps in the process: entrance, endorsement, and approval. At each step, there is a reflective essay and panel interview. At times, the interview will be with the entire candidacy committee of the synod (my committee is composed of about 15 members, if I recall correctly), which is made up of the bishop, synod staff, pastors, seminary professors, and lay members; or it may be with just a few members of the committee (but the final approval process involves evaluation from both the seminary faculty and the entire committee).

At each step, the committee has three options, one of which they will bestow upon the candidate: approval (different from final approval...confusing, I know), postponement or denial. Every candidate strives for approval. That means that your essay met their requirements, or if it fell a little short, your interview made up for it, and you are ready to continue in the process. Postponement can mean many things, but it often means the candidate has some things to work on before completing the next step; it does not always mean that the candidate is not qualified for ministry, but that they need a bit more time. From what I understand, denial is rare, but it can happen, and it can sideline a candidate for an indefinite period of time. I'm not clear on whether you can enter the process again after time and growth, or if you are finished with candidacy altogether, but I've found that most candidates avoid thinking about it at all.

My entrance went well. I had months to prepare, and I was ready for the interview, as it mostly assesses where you are at this first step of theological education and preparation for ministry. I was approved for entrance without difficulty, and I have been riding on the coattails of my entrance for the past few months. But now, it is time for endorsement, and I am scared out of my mind. Most candidates wait until the beginning of their second year, after their Clinical Pastoral Education, to seek endorsement. But because I am in a two year program, rather than four, I need to be endorsed before other parts of my academic program can move forward, so this is all happening very quickly.

Very quickly as in April 16th.

With the essay due April 1st.

By my (read: my Dashboard countdown clock's) calculations, I have a mere 6 days, 7 hours and approximately 53 minutes to finish this essay.

I took over seven months to write the last one.

And now, I have to show growth.


Writing the essay is the hardest part. They want me to think theologically about my vocation as it is as it is grounded in baptism, in contexts such as family, confirmation, friendships, work settings, school and community. In one page. I barely know what it is asking in the first place, much less how to address all of those topics in 23 double-spaced lines. And then there are eight more questions beyond that! When do I get to stop writing about myself?
As far as the interview, I'm intimidated. I'm afraid that my committee will ask questions to which I haven't learned the answers, or want to know why I still don't feel called to be a pastor. I cried in my last interview, and my number one goal for this interview is to not repeat those tears. But I am afraid it will happen.

I hope this doesn't sound as if I'm degrading the Candidacy process; I actually think it is necessary and well-developed to raise up qualified leaders in the Church who can clearly articulate theological groundings and a sense of call. But in the midst, it seems like I'm drowning in an ocean of essays, interviews and decisions that keep me up at night worrying. And all I wanted to do was help young people encounter Christ.

I'm not sure if there's a greater purpose for this blog entry. Maybe it was just to vent in the middle of the process, or maybe it was to encourage someone who feels he or she is the only one with anxiety about the process. But I do know one thing for absolute certain: I now have 6 days, 7 hours and 42 minutes to put the last seven months of learning and living down on paper, and I still feel as strongly about my call as I did eight years ago.* If my committee knows that, I think I'm doing just fine.



*Interestingly enough, I just realized that today is exactly eight years since I felt called to youth ministry, to the day. I wasn't sure exactly what it was at first, but I quickly identified it, and I remember it like it was yesterday. Funny how these things work out, eh?