Remembering Stifter

Several weeks ago I was perusing my Facebook account and noticed that several of my friends from high school were all changing their profile pictures to images of themselves with another former classmate of mine named Andy Stifter.  None of them were commenting on the pictures, but it seemed odd to me that they would all change their profile pictures to images of themselves and Andy.  I later learned that Andy went missing while on his paddle board the Saturday after Thanksgiving.  He had gone out on his own to take photographs of wildlife from the water.  An immense search effort was marshaled, but to no avail, and the worst was feared.  On Tuesday of this week, 25 days after Andy disappeared, his body was spotted by an ice fisherman using an underwater camera to search for fish.  This is the second acquaintence of mine that has died in as many months.

Andy leaves behind a wife, two children, and another on the way.  I can only imagine the depth of their loss and grief, and for the little one yet to be born who will never know his or her dad.  What a tragedy.  Thankfully, a gofundme page was started and as of this writing more than $85,000 has been contributed toward Andy's family.  Although such a large amount of money can never replace Andy, I'm glad that his family is feeling the support of his friends and relatives and neighbors, and even strangers.

I first met Andy in elementary school, I think.  We became acquaintances at that time, and would go on through high school together.  Stifter was an extremely funny guy.  I wouldn't describe him as a class clown, but he was witty and just generally really funny.  I remember one semester he and I were in a class together, and it must have been either a remedial class or just a low-level class that we took to fill up credits, because I think he and I were the only ones in our grade in that class.  I do remember, though, that the class was taught by Ms. Lund, and when she would get on us for goofing off, talking, or laughing, he'd say, "Ms. Lund, we ain't causin' no ruckus!"  I guess you had to be there.  It was always a great time, and I recall looking forward to that class each day because he would crack me up.  He had a dead-pan delivery that was perfect.

But my most prominent memories of Andy are from the summer of 1993 (or was it 94?) - the summer before 7th grade.  He and I ended up on the same baseball team - the Chicago White Sox - and it was a summer to remember (I've written about some of my memories of that team here).  What I haven't mentioned before was that Andy was a huge part of that team's success.  Neither of us made the traveling team that year, but we went on to go undefeated, both in city league play and even when our coach shopped us around to traveling tournaments.  Our team - a city team - beat up on traveling teams.  We were that good.

Two things about Andy's involvement on that team stand out to me.  The first is a practice that we had.  We were scrimmaging and Andy came up to bat.  He hit a single and ran to first base.  On the next pitch he took off for second.  The catcher threw the ball down and short-hopped the covering infielder, and the ball bounced up and hit Andy right above his right eye as he was sliding into the base.  "Aaaaggh!" he cried.  "Why does this always have to happen to ME?!"  I remember him emphasizing the word "me" really loudly, and it was actually pretty funny in the moment.  He seemed more upset that he got hit in the face than hurt by it.  The next day at school - no joke - the imprint of the stitches on the ball was still visible just above his eyebrow.

Another thing I remember about Andy from that team was that he was an exceptional outfielder for a 13-14 year old kid, or however old we were back then.  Contrary to what you might think, measuring and catching a fly ball is actually very challenging.  Looks can be very deceiving, and the ball can easily change directions based on the wind or spin of the ball.  But Andy was great at it.  He would measure the ball perfectly, make a clean catch, and even put himself in position to make a throw to the infield if someone was on base.

I'll always appreciate my time with Andy, even though I haven't spoken to or seen him since graduation.  May God bless his family during this hard time.

Preschool Problems

Something happened today at my son's preschool that didn't sit well with me, and it's still not settling this evening, almost 12 hours later.

A few weeks ago we received a flyer in Ferg's backpack inviting our family to a preschool picnic after class one day.  All the students were invited to go to the local park with their parent(s), have an outdoor meal, and then play on the playground.  The Mrs. determined to take the day off from work so we could all attend.  Before the event, she told me to ask the teachers if siblings were allowed to come to the picnic too, in which case we would bring Hanburger too if it was OK.

The next time I picked up Ferg from class, I asked his lead teacher if it was OK that Hannah come to the picnic.  She looked at me with a blank stare, as though she had no idea what I was talking about.  "Uh, the picnic?" I said.  "We received a flyer in Jamie's backpack saying that there was a picnic scheduled for this Thursday."

"Oh!" she said, as though the light finally clicked on in her head.  "That's not a school function.  One of the mom's from the class decided to schedule a picnic with the kids, so she sent home the flyer."

"Oh, OK," said I, knowing then that Hannah could go to the picnic too.

Now cut to a week or so ago.  For the past few years my family has hosted a Backyard Bible Club (ByBC) in our home for a week in the summer.  We try to invite as many neighborhood kids as we can to hang out at our house, do some fun stuff, and learn about Jesus.  This year, since Jamie was in preschool, we decided it might be good for him to take some ByBC invitations to school and pass them out to his friends.

This, we thought, would be OK since something of a precedent was set by the mom sending home flyers for the picnic.  But we knew that it would most likely be inappropriate to ask the teachers to insert an invitation into each child's backpack.  So we made sure to stress with the Ferguson that he should pass out the invitations himself to his friends.  We were not asking the school to pass them out - he should pass them out himself.  That way, even though it is a religious event sponsored by a church, the school would not be endorsing it, and it would be completely student-led and initiated.

We planned for Jamie to pass the invitations out earlier this week, but the day he was going to do it he forgot the invitations in the car.  So we had to wait until today, Thursday, which also happens to be his last day of school for the year.  This morning, as I dropped Jamie off at school and put his backpack in his locker, I made sure to point out to him that the invitations were in there, and that when class was over he should pull them out and give them to his friends.  He was all set to do it, and he was excited to do it.

At the time for pickup, I was standing outside the classroom doors, waiting for Jamie to be excused.  The way they excuse the kids from class is to get them all ready (coats on, backpacks on, etc.) and then call them out one by one when their parents arrive to receive them.  I was standing outside the room, looking at all the kids through the window in the doors.  Then I saw Jamie with his backpack.  He looked inside and picked out the invitations, holding them up for one of his co-teachers to see.  He handed them to her, and she looked them, and then handed them off to the lead teacher.  The lead teacher then looked at the invitations, and proceeded to make a phone call to someone, presumably regarding the invitations that Jamie had produced.  After a few second call, the lead teacher handed the invitations back to the co-teacher, who proceeded to come out of the classroom and gave the invitations to me, saying, "He can't pass these out in the classroom, but he can pass them out when the kids have left class."

This was strange, I thought.  Why?  What's the difference?  "Oh well," I thought, "no reason to make a big deal out of it.  I'm sure they will let Jamie out first so he can stand by the door and hand the invitations out to the other kids as they exit the room."

But this was not the case.  Jamie was not the first to be excused.  Nor was he the second, or third, or fourth, fifth, sixth, or seventh.  I didn't keep an exact count, but there were at least seven kids to leave the room before him.  By the time he got out of the room and I gave the invitations to him, more than half of the kids in the class had left.

But the bigger problem was that, by this time, he had become so frazzled by all of the drama surrounding the invitations, that he had completely lost all of his gumption for handing them out.  In fact, he refused to do so.  He wanted me to hand them out.

By this time, I was starting to get perturbed - not at Jamie, but at how the whole situation was unfolding.  Here was a kid who was excited to invite his friends to his Backyard Bible Club - of his own volition - and he was being thwarted and discouraged from doing so at every turn.  By the time we left, I was an unhappy pappy.

As I have reflected on the situation throughout the day, I have some questions regarding the situation.

First, was I wrong to assume that my child could independently hand out invitations to something at his house?  I know that some school districts don't allow any children to distribute any literature for any event or reason.  This could clearly not be the case at our school, though, since we were invited to a picnic by a mom from the class.  And more than that, that invitation came in our child's take-home folder.  Why is it OK to invite kids to a picnic via the take-home folder, but it's not OK for a kid to independently (not via the take-home folder) give out invitations to a Backyard Bible Club?  I would submit to you it is that the invitations Jamie was handing out contained four peculiar words: "Bible," "Jesus Christ," and "God."

Second, who did the lead teacher call?  And why did she feel the need to consult the higher ups?  I don't know.  I'd like to assume the best in this situation, but that's getting harder to do the more I think about how all this went down.

Third, why is it OK for Jamie to hand out the invitations outside the classroom but not inside, as the co-teacher told me?  How does a change of 10 feet make it permissible to invite people to a private religious function?

Fourth, how does a father explain this to his child?  This is a particularly tough situation, because Jamie really wanted to pass out the invitations, and he is wondering why his marvelous teachers (really, they are great) wouldn't let him pass out his invitations.  It's a sticky wicket that I'm still working through.  I'm sure we'll end up talking about it for a couple more days.

It would appear that my experience was not peculiar, as a quick internet search reveals several news stories and forums that talk about this same issue.  Take this one, for example, and be sure to read the comments.  It would seem that the majority of those commenting believe that as long as a religious flyer is distributed by the student and not by the school then there's no issue.  Hence the reason we told Jamie that he should be the one distributing the invitations and not giving them to his teachers to stuff into backpacks.

But it was not to be for us.  What a shame.  I feel bad for my son.

An Ethical Challenge

Two summers ago I took a few courses from Bethel Seminary online.  One of these was a course in Christian Ethics.  The two texts were separate volumes of a collection called "Readings in Christian Ethics."  The editors compiled articles on ethics from several different Christian traditions, and examined several different ways of approaching ethics.  I found the readings to be fascinating and informative, especially since I had not formally delved into the area of ethics up to this point.

One of the ethical theories that really appealed to me was the Divine Command Ethic.  This ethic basically states that everything God says is right and good is indeed right and good, no matter what.  The question isn't so much "Is this action right?" as much as it is, "Is this action commanded by God?"  If the answer to the latter question is "Yes," then the action in question is right and good, no matter what it is, because everything God commands is good.  This means, of course, that command or instruction given in the Bible is right and good because it is God who has given it.  But this calls into question places in scripture where something God does or commands someone to do does not look very right and good.  For instance, when God commanded the Israelites to kill any and every living thing during their conquest of the Promised Land.  Really?  That was good?  The Divine Command Ethic says yes, partly because the temporal morality of the action isn't in question.  What is in question is where the command came from.  Since it came from God, and God is all good, then the action - whatever it is - must be good and righteous, even if it means wiping people out.  As you can imagine, this is somewhat hard to swallow.

Furthermore, as I investigated the Divine Command Ethic more, I had another problem with it: just because something God has commanded for one particular person or group in history was right at that moment in time, it does not mean that it is right for all people in all times.  In other words, if God's command to Joshua to wipe the Canaanites off the face of the earth was morally acceptable at that time, it certainly can't still be acceptable for me today, is it?  In other words, it seems the moral acceptability of God's commands are relative at best, based on time, culture, covenant, etc.

But then I ran across an article in the text books titled "A Defense of Divine Command Ethics," or something like that, that was actually written by one of the editors of the textbooks: one Robert Rakestraw.  In the article, he unfolded the Divine Command Ethic in a brilliant way, taking account of the exceptions I've noted above, and explaining them masterfully.  For example, to command a people-group to wipe out another people-group for no good reason would be immoral, no matter who gave the command.  There is certainly a backstory involved when we consider the story of God commanding the Israelites to wipe out the Canaanites.  For instance, elsewhere in scripture we read that the Canaanites were exceptionally wicked people, and God had given them 400 years to repent of their wickedness.  Furthermore, they were occupying land that belonged to Israel and refused to leave.  God's command to wipe them out was a meting out of his justice upon the Canaanites, and was therefore good.  This is just one example of how the Divine Command ethic "works."  Rakestraw went on to show how this ethic can play out nicely even in modern day life.

So after reading Rakestraw's defense of the Divine Command ethic, I was a believer.  In fact, his article was so well written that I read his bio from the back of the book.  It turns out he was a professor at Bethel Seminary!  I thought I would send him an email to thank him for clarifying Divine Command ethics to me, so I looked in the Bethel directory, but could not find his name.  I Googled him, and discovered a blog that bore his name.  After a little perusing, I quickly learned that he had left Bethel for health reasons.  A little more research revealed that he had successfully undergone a heart transplant, which is no doubt quite a feat in itself.  After a time, however, it was discovered that his body was rejecting the heart.  Through one way or another, an additional heart was made available to him for a second transplant.  Without the transplant, he would be dead within 6 months.

It's funny, the way God works some times.  Here is the ultimate ethical question, posed to a man who has made his living studying ethics.  How many hearts does a person get?  If he went through with the second transplant, it would be his third.  And even then, there was no guarantee that the third heart would be the charm.  Was it right to take yet another heart, when there were so many other people in the world literally dying to have a heart transplant?  Rakestraw decided that no, it was not right for him to have another heart.  In making this decision, he knew that he was signing his own death certificate, but it was the decision he made.  The doctors gave him about 6 months, after which time they predicted his heart would fight off his body to the extent that it would cause a major, lethal heart attack.  He made the decision with all of this information in view.

Rakestraw received his initial heart transplant ten years ago.  Six years ago he received the news that his heart was failing, and the doctors gave him six months to live.  That time has come and gone, however.  He is still alive, feasting on the grace of life.  How do I know this?  He posts once a month on his blog, "The Benediction Project," where he writes about spirituality, life, and death.  To my knowledge, his prognosis has not been upgraded, nor do they expect him to live much longer (although they said the same thing six years ago!).  His blog is an encouragement to read.  It's about a man who loves God, loves life, and is learning to embrace death.

May God grant me the grace to live - and die - with grace and humility like Bob Rakestraw.

Too Poor to Take a Vow of Poverty

I just saw this report this evening about how seminary students in the U.S are in increasingly dire straits when it comes to the cost of theological education.  In short, more and more people are leaving seminary with increasingly high amounts of debt, with less and less jobs and lower pay coming their way upon completion.  This is an issue that is obviously on my radar screen, given that I work in ministry and completed seminary just a little over two months ago.

Praise God that I was able to leave seminary debt-free.  My brothers and sisters at Riverview Baptist Church graciously paid my way through seminary - an expense of more that $60,000 in total (which actually appears to be on the lighter side, since it's apparently not unusual to leave seminary between $70,000 - $80,000 in debt).  This is an amount of money that I would have not been able to pay myself (more on that in a minute), and student loans are not an option - not because I wouldn't qualify (pretty much everybody does), but because I couldn't add that much more debt to our already existing debt in good conscience.  It's incredible to see how much average tuition costs have risen even within the last 10 years.

If we consider the fact that a Masters of Divinity takes an average of almost 7 years to complete (according to Bethel when I first expressed interest in the seminary back in 2007), combined with a median income of $44,140 for MDiv. recipients, and you can see why people are in trouble when it comes to student loan debt.  People are defaulting on loans, postponing marriage, delaying purchases of homes, and even filing bankruptcy at an increasing rate, largely due to the high costs of seminary.  Something is wrong with this picture.

The article offers some possible solutions to correct the situation, only one of which I find to be worth consideration.  But before this conversation even starts, I think seminaries and seminarians need to take a long hard look at what the Bible says about debt.  In my opinion, seminaries bear almost as much responsibility for this issue as the students do (if not an equal amount, or maybe even a greater amount).  Seminaries run the theological education "racket" and a lot of people won't be getting ministry jobs without a seminary education.  Seminaries know this.  I can't say for sure, and I don't have any evidence or experience that would suggest that seminaries "price gouge," but I wonder if this knowledge comes into view when these institutions are setting their tuition costs.  I hope not.

The article lists four ways (among others) that seminaries and students are looking into reducing student loan debt: 1) making more scholarship and grant money available; 2) cutting the costs of education in order to enable students who are working full time and attending class part time to be able to afford school; 3) increase financial education amongst students (e.g., better budgeting to accommodate school costs); and 4) denying admission to people whom the seminaries have determined will not be able to manage their debt.

None of these solutions are adequate, in my opinion, and don't actually address the real issue.  The first option does not address the main problem at all: seminary is too expensive, and graduates don't make enough money to be able to pay down their tuition costs in a reasonable amount of time.  Giving more students "free" money still means that tuition costs will remain high and increase even higher as time goes on.

The second solution is getting warmer, but is still lacking in addressing the problem comprehensively.  The issue is not with part-time students, but with all students.  Most of the people I went to school with were full time students anyway, and they still worked full time jobs (including me)!

The third solution is no solution at all, and certainly would not have worked for me.  "Better" budgeting wouldn't have worked for me.  There is simply no more money to put towards education, no matter how streamlined my budget is.  Even if I could manage it, that means I've got $60,000 hanging over my head for the next 30 years.  I'd have the loan paid off by the time I'm ready to leave the ministry.  How is that a solution?

The fourth option is absolutely ludicrous.  You can't deny someone who is called to ministry the training he needs to be able to follow God's call on his life.  Many denominations require a seminary education as a prerequisite to ordination, including my own.  So then, if you deny someone admission to seminary, you've essentially denied their call into ministry.  That person will have to seek out some kind of ministry that doesn't require a formal education (this is definitely a possibility for someone who can't afford seminary, and there's definitely nothing shameful about something other than pastoral ministry, but it certainly isn't ideal for that person).  Are we really at a point where we are going to turn people away from the ministry because they can't afford it?  That would be a terrible shame.

During my time in seminary (particularly at Bethel Seminary), I observed what I considered to be a colossal waste of tuition money, mostly in the form of wasted class time.  In one of my classes, all students were excused from class for an hour in order to practice "solitude."  I don't remember the exact figures, but each student in that class paid somewhere around $45.00 for that hour of solitude.  Each student.  There were also countless times where I was released from class early, and times when I was given what was obviously busy work that was assigned for no other reason than to fill class time.  Moreover, almost every class I participated in had students work in groups for periods of class time, which in my opinion, is an extremely poor use of class time (I came to learn from masters in their field, not from people who are at best, as smart as me and at worst, no offense, less knowledgable than me).  In total, I would estimate that my seminary education could have been thousands of dollars less expensive if I was not charged for these wasted periods of class time.

It is in this sense where I think seminaries bear a good chunk of responsibility for using their resources wisely, and additionally, being good stewards with tuition money.  With all due respect, giving 20 students an hour of solitude to the tune of $45.00 per hour, per student, is absolutely terrible (sinful?) stewardship.  I made sure to note these instances on all my student evaluations, even suggesting that the seminary should cut back on credit hours per course if they couldn't fill the class time.

If seminaries are going to charge what they're charging, and given the difficulties students have of handling the costs incurred by their education, then seminaries need to make sure that they education they are offering is actually worth the money.  If it's not, then tuition costs need to be adjusted accordingly.  I think this would be a good starting point when thinking of ways to address the current crisis (and it is a crisis, considering this could have a significant negative influence on future ministers entering the ministry).

It's Official

I got my diploma in the mail today.  I'm now officially a Master of Divinity.  My seminary schooling has officially come to a close.  It should be noted that I had a lingering feeling that this day would not come...at least not yet.  You see, I had transferred from Sioux Falls Seminary where I attended graduate school online for two years.  Unbeknownst to me, however, the Association of Theological Schools (the outfit that accredits seminaries in the U.S) requires that a seminary student complete a certain percentage of his or her degree on campus, and not online.  This forced me to transfer to Bethel Seminary in St. Paul (or, I suppose I could have moved to Sioux Falls).

The transfer process was anything but smooth.  Sioux Falls was on a semester schedule, whereas Bethel was on the quarter system.  This meant that my credits transferred over in strange ways, to say the least.  For example, my four semester credits at Sioux Falls were worth something like 4.5 quarter credits at Bethel.  Also, since Sioux Falls required certain courses that Bethel didn't, and vice versa, some of those classes didn't transfer over as core credits, but rather as elective credits.  This meant that when I started at Bethel all my elective credits were filled with transfer credits from core classes at Sioux Falls.  This also meant that I could not have a concentration at Bethel. The way Bethel does M.Div degrees is they allow students to have an area of concentration in their degree - a field of study that, although they haven't earned a degree in it, they've concentrated their studies on the field while doing their M.Div.  I didn't get this opportunity due to the goofy transfer process.  There was also a requirement from Bethel that said I needed to take a certain number of classes at Bethel in order to receive a degree from them - a requirement that I barely met.

To make matters worse, it seems that most educational institutions are rather snobby when it comes to their own courses.  For some reason, they feel that their course offerings are better than those of other schools - even when the classes are the same.  For example, my hermeneutics coursework from Sioux Falls didn't transfer to Bethel because they wanted me to take hermeneutics from them.  This was true of some of my Old and New Testament coursework as well.  Guess what: there's really not that much difference between schools.

To top all that off, my senior year at Bethel required an amazing amount of additional work when compared to my other three years in seminary.  I had to complete a statement of faith (a requirement for students starting graduate school prior to 2009, which I was), and also a professional internship.  The internship process through Bethel was interesting, as I had already done several supervised ministry courses through Sioux Falls.  I appealed my case to a wonderful guy named Greg Meland, the supervised ministry director at Bethel.  Fortunately, he was acquainted with Ron Sisk, the supervised ministry director at Sioux Falls and was able to have a talk with him and exempt me from one of the internship requirements.  This didn't relieve all the stress, however, as Greg isn't the greatest at email communication, so I was never really sure that my coursework was being received, or that I had indeed met all the internship requirements...until now.

Even during my last few weeks of school, and for about the past month, I've had a nagging feeling that there would be some little requirement that I had either forgotten or overlooked that would prevent me from receiving my diploma, even though I technically graduated.  These fears were alleviated today, however, when my diploma showed up in the mail.

Now I just need to decide which wall of my office to hang it on (or which file folder in my file cabinet to shove it into!).

Interesting

We translated Matthew 18 for Greek class tonight, and an issue arose that I was previously unaware of. In Matthew 18 Peter asks Jesus how many times he is to forgive his brother. Peter seems to suggest that forgiving his brother, 7 times at the most, would be adequate. Jesus responds by saying in verse 22: "I do not say to you seven times, but seventy times seven." (ESV)

The most common interpretation of this verse is that Christians are to forgive those who wrong them 490 times before they hold a brother's offense against them. The point that Jesus is making is that Christians are to forgive their brothers always. He uses a big number to communicate the fact that forgiveness is supposed to be the standard, not holding a grudge or taking revenge. Jesus was most definitely not saying that Christians should have a checklist and count the number of times that Christians forgive their brothers and sisters until they've reached 490. He's being overly dramatic. Because if you're counting the number of times you've forgiven someone, you haven't really forgiven.

The trick is that, in Greek, there is no way of expressing multiplication. The Greek in verse 22 literally reads "hebdomékontakis hepta." The first word means "seventy times" and the second word means "seven." In all other places where numbers are communicated in New Testament Greek, numbers in multiples of ten are communicated by saying "seventy and seven," which seems to be the case here. So the translation, "seventy times seven" (as in multiplication) is most likely not accurate. Rather, Jesus probably meant "seventy and (plus) seven" giving us a total of 77 times that a Christian should forgive his brothers.

Here's how some modern translations render the verse:

NIV: Jesus answered, “I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times.

NASB: Jesus said to him, "I do not say to you, up to seven times, but up to seventy times seven.

ESV: Jesus said to him, "I do not say to you seven times, but seventy times seven.

KJV: Jesus saith unto him, I say not unto thee, Until seven times: but, Until seventy times seven.

TNIV: Jesus answered, “I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times.

77 is a lot less than 490, but Jesus' point is the same: how many times should I forgive my brother? Answer: a lot of times. In fact, don't stop. Always forgive.

Even So, Come Lord Jesus

Pastor Wick and I once joked that the only people on earth who don't want Jesus to come back (aside from people who aren't Christians) are seminarians: we've invested so much into this educational process that we can't fathom not being able to complete it and use it in the ministerial world. While it's obviously tongue in cheek, there's some truth there. Seminary is a lot of work, and sometimes that work entails sitting in your seat, keeping your mouth shut, and putting up with the ridiculous crap you hear from your profs.

(Aside: as I typed that last sentence, the prof for this class just said, "I can't find a biblical model of marriage that I can get excited about.")

Well, I can safely say that I am once again looking forward to the return of Christ. In fact, if he would come back before I have to go to this ridiculous "Self in Community" class again next Thursday, that would be ideal.

So here's a prayer request: Lord, please come back for the sake of your glory (and my sanity), if at all possible, before 8:00 PM next Thursday. Amen.

Suggestions for Professors

I'm rounding out the third year of my seminary education. Tonight marked the beginning of my spring quarter classes. After my class tonight (and the last three years of seminary) I was motivated to come up with a list of suggestions for seminary professors as to how they should think and act regarding graduate level teaching. If you've been through some sort of higher education, you can probably identify with some of these. These suggestions come as a result of working with professors from both Sioux Falls Seminary and Bethel Seminary the last three years.

But before I get into the suggestions (which are mostly formed from negative experiences I've had in seminary) I have to say that I've had just as many outstanding professors as I have poor ones (see here and here). Unfortunately, however, it always seems the poor ones have the most influence. So kudos to you who teach fairly and honestly. Jeers to those of you who treat your position as trivial, and don't realize the monumental impact you have on the hearts and minds of the students you teach. So without further ado, here are my suggestions to seminary professors.

1. Don't ridicule someone (or a group of people) who doesn't hold your position. You probably don't realize it, but any student who finds themselves holding the position contrary to the one you espouse feels silently ridiculed by their association to those whom you find to be ignorant and uneducated. You can certainly think what you want, but to teach in such a way that undercuts the opposing viewpoint without providing a reasoned argument for your position is intellectually dishonest, arrogant, and logically fallacious. Point out strengths and weaknesses of the positions of those with whom you disagree, as well as your own position and let the student decide. And do so in a way that is respectful and edifying.

2. Don't act as though obvious things are significant revelations that only you have discovered. Most of the time, you do this in order to undercut those who disagree with you and to further your own agenda and ideas. It's not intellectually honest.

3. Don't cite yourself in your lectures. It sounds incredibly arrogant (because it is, most of the time) when you talk about how you've "explained all this in detail in my book." No one cares. Yeah, you're smart; yeah, you've written a book. Get over it. The rest of us have. Also, don't try to validate your position by citing yourself. It's fallacious.

4. Don't use your position as a professor simply to further your academic career. Teach because you want to teach. Don't teach so you can write a paper and get a promotion. Students pay good, hard-earned money to receive an education from you. Hold yourself accountable and do your job without always looking for the next step. This makes you a bad teacher, because you're more invested in your own interests than those of your students.

5. Do use class time wisely, and use all of it. When you break down the numbers, students pay an astronomical amount for each minute of class time. So make sure to use the available class time well. Don't let your classes out early. Don't slough off class time by assigning "small group time." I have a suspicion that you sometimes don't make the most of class time because you don't have enough material to fill the whole time. If this is the case, redesign the class, charge less, and hold yourself accountable. Again, students pay a lot for this time, so use it wisely.

6. Do value the level of your students' learning more than you value the idea of yourself holding a position within the academy. I have found that there are a lot of professors who love the idea of themselves as being a professor. Like number 4 above, this makes you a bad teacher, and for the same reasons.

7. Do realize that a lot of the students under your care will take everything you say as gospel truth. True, you are not responsible for students who do not discern the truth for themselves, but you are responsible for their intellectual growth at least to some extent. In their eyes, you are a very educated person who knows what he or she is talking about (and for the most part, you do). But many of the students in seminary are young and impressionable, and are more than willing to sacrifice what they've believed for the newest and trendiest academic opinion. Be careful.

8. Do realize that as trendy as your current position might be, someday it will be dated and out of fashion. Someday you will be the one that young seminary professors are taking shots and, and it will be your views and ideas that will be ridiculed and treated as uniformed and anti-intellectual. Be humble, because someday you're going to be the guy whose views everyone looks at and asks, "What was he thinking?"

Genesis 39 Passage Map

I thought this was kind of interesting. For my hermeneutics class, my professor wants us to "map" passages that we exegete. The process basically consists of breaking a text into "scenes" (figuring out where new ideas / actions / dialogues start and stop) and then chart how the "tension" builds and is resolved in the text. Here's my map for Genesis 39, from the Joseph narrative. The numbers represent the verses that make up each scene. The purpose of an exercise like this is to be able to see the smaller parts that make up a whole and to be able to identify any themes or main ideas that might exist within the passage.

Scene 1: Background Information – 1.
Scene 2: The Lord Favors Joseph – 2-6.
Scene 3: Joseph is Pursued by Potiphar’s Wife – 6-7.
Scene 4: Joseph Refuses to Sin Against God – 8-9.
Scene 5: Joseph is Continuously Pursued by Potiphar’s Wife – 10.
Scene 6: Joseph Flees from Potiphar’s Wife – 11-12.
Scene 7: Joseph is Falsely Accused – 13-18.
Scene 8: Joseph is Imprisoned – 19-20.
Scene 9: The Lord Favors Joseph in Prison – 21-23.

Cross-Cultural Definition of Sin

For those of you who have attended Riverview's "Multicultural Kingdom" Sunday School class this past month, here's a copy of T. Wayne Dye's article "Toward a Cross-Cultural Definition of Sin." After thinking about the class today, I don't think I did a good job of representing the ideas that Dye addresses in his article. For example, I think it's safe to say that Dye is certainly not a relativist, nor does he advocate relativism in the article, so if I gave anyone the impression that the article was promoting relativism, then I certainly didn't represent Dye's position well. So you may be better served to just read the article for yourself. I recommend it. And I hope Dye can explain his position better than I did!

This Too Shall Pass

Long day today. Actually every Thursday is a long day. It's my marathon school day. This quarter, I'm at Bethel every Thursday for approximately 11 hours. It's one of the busiest times of my life, and it's not only hard because the schedule is full and difficult, but also because my time to be with my family is significantly reduced.

After today's craziness, I decided I want to write out my schedule for today so some day I can look back on it and see how God brought me through it (assuming I don't die from it!).

6:36 AM - Wake up. For some reason, I wake up to Jamie right next to me in bed - naked. I don't know where his pajamas or night time diaper are or why he isn't wearing either of them. Thankfully, the bed's dry. But now that I'm up, so is he.

6:37 - Get ready as fast as I can. I need to be out the door by 7:00.

6:55 - My mom shows up to begin her marathon day of babysitting. Beetz has conferences tonight, so my mom will end up having the kids for about 12 1/2 hours. She's a trooper. It kills me that I won't see my kids until right before they go to bed with them tonight. I keep telling them that someday, they'll have a dad.

7:05 - I'm out the door and on my way to Bethel Seminary.

7:25 - Traffic on the exchange from 35E to 694 West. Apparently the weave hasn't been sufficiently "unweaved." Each time I've been out to the seminary early in the morning, there's been significant slowdowns at that exchange. Today was no different

7:45 - Stop at the local Holiday gas station for a breakfast burrito and a large coffee. I don't usually drink coffee because it tends to upset my stomach, but the early morning and long day ahead of me seem to warrant one.

7:55 - Get to my classroom, pull my computer out, and get ready for class.

8:00 - Class starts.

10:00 - First break of the morning - a 15 minute break, which I spend pacing back and forth in the class room. My back tends to tighten up from sitting in the classroom chairs. Walking seems to help.

11::00 - Break #2, this one's a only a five minute break, which I again spend standing, trying to work out the issues in my back.

12:00 PM - First class of the day ends, and I sprint out to my car (which is parked in the commuter lot, which seems like it's a half-mile away). Once in the car, I begin the five minute drive to leave the Bethel grounds and make my way to Holiday (the same one I went to for breakfast). I get a beef and potato burrito and hop back in the car. I eat the burrito on the way back to campus.

1:00 - Second class of the day begins, more long hours of sitting, and more back pain.

3:00 - First break of this class, a 15 minute one. More walking and staring out the window.

4:05 - Second break of the class, another five minute one, spent standing.

5:00 - Second class of the day ends, and I walk briskly to the vending machines in the lower campus center. I get my "supper" which consists of a bag of Funyuns, two Pop Tarts, and a Dr. Pepper. I sit at a small table and eat. I've only got about five minutes to get to my next and final class of the day: Greek.

5:10 - Get to Greek class and get called on to translate a sentence as soon as I sit down.

7:00 - Greek, the last class of the day, is over. I go and get my coat, and begin the long cold trek back to the commuter lot.

7:35 - I pick up the kids at my mom's and bring them home.

8:00 - I get the kids ready for bed, and let them stay up a little later since we haven't seen each other all day.

9:00 - Relaxing on the computer and blogging about my day. I just keeping telling myself, "After this term, and the next term, and the term after that, there're only two terms left!" Oh goody.

This too shall pass. Someday I'll look back on a day like this and smile. Maybe.

A Breath of Fresh Air

Last week I whined about some aspects of my seminary experience thus far. There have been good points and bad points. I also said how I transferred out of my advanced placement hermeneutics class. Well, the class I transferred into has been great (after a grand total of 2 hours of class time)! I think the difference has to do with my professor. Thanks, Dr. Vogt, for your balanced, fair way of presenting the material. And thanks, Dr. Moritz, for telling me that Dr. Vogt was probably the most conservative teacher in the hermeneutics department.

Ready to be Done

OK, I've been in seminary for three years now, and I'm ready to be done. Today marked my first full day of classes for the winter quarter at Bethel Seminary. For this term, I'm continuing on in my Greek studies (with the same professor I had last quarter), I started an advanced placement hermeneutics class (advanced placement because I've already done graduate level hermeneutics, but Bethel won't acknowledge my credits from Sioux Falls seminary as being satisfactory in this area), and an Old Testament History course (which I've also already done at Sioux Falls, but the same thing applies in this area as well - not full credit). It's been a long, challenging road, and I think I'm beginning to see the pinhole that is the light at the end of my seminary tunnel. It can't come quick enough.

There have been many reasons why seminary has been challenging. The biggest one has been the effect it's had on my family. Going to school requires a lot of time away from family spent studying and going to classes. When I was going to school at Sioux Falls this was less of an issue because I was taking classes online. Now that I'm at Bethel, I'm gone for 3 hours one night of the week, and all day on another day of the week (which happens to be my day off from work!). Then pretty much every night after the kids go to bed I'm either doing school work or catching up on my regular work until I go to bed. It's a grueling schedule. Throw into the mix trying to maintain a marriage, and it gets even more difficult.

The reason for having to transfer from Sioux Falls to Bethel was because the Association of Theological Schools (the organization that accredits schools like Sioux Falls and Bethel) requires students to take a certain number of credits in an on-campus setting, all for the sake of establishing community. I think this is a bogus reason, though, and it should be re-examined by the ATS. For someone in my situation (working full time in ministry, married with kids, etc.) I've got all the community I need. I'm connected with the people at my church; I'm connected with my family and close friends. I don't need yet another network of people to interact with and get to know. That sounds rude, but consider this: in forcing me to take classes on-campus for the sake of the "community of learning" that exists there, I am forced to sacrifice the community relationships I already have (family, church, etc.). So in insisting on their community, these restrictions do damage to the existing communities I'm already a part of. Kind of ironic.

Another reason I'm ready to be done with seminary is that I am beginning to become disenfranchised with the academic establishment. Higher education should be a free marketplace of ideas, where all views and ideas are given equal consideration. And in my experience at Sioux Falls and Bethel, both schools have confessed an ideology such as this one. The reality has been significantly different, however. I have found that most professors are more interested in a closed marketplace of ideas that consists of the his or her ideas and not much else. But still, these same professors claim to be open to anything. It's rather dishonest. In many cases, the actual classroom environment that exists is one of condemning the traditional (and often times conservative) view and belittling those who adhere to it.

This was the case in my advanced placement hermeneutics course I just started yesterday. I couldn't have felt any lower, sitting in that class. I was basically told that everything I think is wrong, and that I don't care about hermeneutics or good methods of interpretation. Nothing could be further from the truth. I have good reason to believe the things that I believe, and I think I can provide an adequate case for the validity of my beliefs. And if one of my views is challenged and found wanting, I'm willing to change it or adopt a different view. But the professor presented my views in such an uneven-handed way, and he made people who subscribe to those views look so ignorant, that I just kept my mouth shut (for the most part - I did comment at a few junctures). The difficult thing for students who find themselves with a different view than the professor's is that the professor has had years and years to study and perfect his view, while the student has probably only thought about the matters superficially at the least, or maybe done a small amount of study on the matter at the most. This makes for a pretty unfair intellectual fight. So the student usually submits to the professor's superior knowledge on the subject, and thus the closed marketplace of ideas takes over.

In the case of my hermeneutics class, after the class was over, I left the room and walked straight to the registrar's office and dropped the class. I can't take it. It's not that I can't take the opposing viewpoints or arguments, or that I can't handle the academic demands of the course, but rather that I can't stomach the idea of sitting in that kind of environment for the next 10 weeks.

I'm also sick of a lot of professors whose theology and/or ecclesiology turns into liberal social commentary, and then insisting that such theology/sociology is the norm of Christians and/or scripture, and then basing grades on the students' conformity to those beliefs. While I was at Sioux Falls, I respectfully refused to complete an assignment because I couldn't do it in good conscience. The assignment had to do with conforming the student's ministry to that of Shane Claiborn, which I could not do in good conscience. Thankfully the professor acknowledged my objection and let me complete the assignment using different material. But the problem remains: don't base my grades on your own political ideologies.

Don't get me wrong: I have no problem with spirited debate or disagreement. In fact, some times its necessary. But those exchanges need to be done respectfully and with open minds - on both sides of the argument. The students and professors need to approach disagreements in the same way.

I would be remiss if I didn't acknowledge the very positive parts of my seminary experience too. Along with all the bad professors and bad experiences I've had, I've also had a lot of good ones. My current Greek prof is maybe the best professor I've had in seminary so far. He's a great guy, he loves what he's teaching, and he loves what he's doing. It's a real pleasure to be learning from him. My systematic theology prof at Sioux Falls was also a great guy. He and I had a number of significant theological disagreements, but we were able to treat each other with respect and friendship. I talked to him on the phone before I left Sioux Falls (he was also my faculty advisor) and he told me that our relationship had "ministered" to him. That's what the educational experience in a Christian institution should be like: our disagreements with and challenges to one another should result in edification. Some profs get this, and some don't. Actually, most don't (at least in my experience).

Vladimir Kharlamov was also a great teacher. He gave you nothing but straight up lectures, but he was good. And he was open. The most fascinating lecture I've ever heard (about the Counter Reformation) was in his class. My New Testament prof at Sioux Falls was also a great encouragement to me.

I think the key to a successful and enjoyable seminary experience is humility, and humility all around. Professors need to humble themselves; they don't know everything. And just because they're really smart doesn't mean they're always right. Students need to humble themselves. They will encounter new ideas that seem strange and wrong, but intellectual honesty requires a sincere examination of opposing points of view.

The theme of the rest of my seminary experience is going to be Philippians 4.13. I'm not in literal chains, but sometimes it feels like it.

Pleasantly Surprised

For one of my seminary classes this quarter I've had to read The Return of the Prodigal Son by Henri Nouwen. It's essentially an interpretation of the parable of the prodigal son through the lens of a painting of the same name by Rembrandt. The class the for which the reading was assigned is certainly not one of my favorites. In fact, I usually find myself trudging through the four hours of class time each week, watching the clock, until I can leave. The content of the course is a bit to touchy-feely for me. It's got a "connect with your feelings" type of feel, and that's just not my thing, nor do I think it's really a biblical way to go about things, such as spiritual growth.

Before I read the book, I wasn't really looking forward to reading it. I had heard some things about Henri Nouwen that didn't really excite me, and I've read some things by people I have significant theological disagreements with who cite Nouwen in their work. Needless to say, I thought the book would be a bummer at best, and make me angry at worst. I was wrong on both accounts. It was a really good read.

Nouwen presents a lot of biographical information about the artist, Rembrandt, and weaves it into the painting, and also into the parable. Fascinating stuff, really. He makes a lot of great connections that I had never thought of before, probably because I was too familiar with the parable to be able to see them myself (specifically, I thought the connection of the older son to a Pharisaic, legalistic worldview was very interesting, and probably spot on - I'd never heard this interpretation before). If you think you know the parable of the prodigal son, let me assure you, there is always more to learn and new insights to gain. And this book is a great way to do just that.

A few warnings for you, though, should you choose to look at the book: 1) it's always a dangerous thing to try to interpret scripture through something else, such as a particular worldview, political bent, painting, music, etc. It's one step further away from the unadulterated truth. I'm not saying it can't be done, but it should be done extremely carefully, and rarely. Scripture can always speak for itself. It doesn't need anything else to communicate. Nouwen does a good job with this in his book, though, and he notes a few places where the painting is inadequate. 2) There is a section in the book about God as mother that I wasn't too fond of. Thankfully, this section is short and doesn't really influence the rest of Nouwen's work. 3) Much like my class, I think there are times when Nouwen brings too much emotion into the picture, and not enough scripture or theology.

The Return of the Prodigal Son by Henri Nouwen. Check it out.

Green Parking Spots

I haven't blogged in a long time. At first I was extremely busy with finishing up the spring semester for seminary. Then as soon as that ended, my work schedule picked up significantly. Add to the mix that my wife and I are expecting baby number 2 in about a month, and I'm a busy guy. Hence the shortage of posts. But even with all of that, I couldn't pass this up.

I was just over on Facebook and noticed that the seminary I attend had posted photos of the new campus construction. The seminary has been building a new building since selling their existing property to the local hospital. Every month or so they post pictures of how the construction of the new building is coming. As I was perusing through the newest batch of photos, I saw this:


The caption for the photo reads: "Since going green, the seminary will also offer great parking spots to those who drive hybrid vehicles." I don't know if I've ever seen anything so asinine. First of all, I find it completely ridiculous (and foolish and ignorant) that the seminary has "gone green," and even more preposterous that the seminary is offering premier parking spots for those who drive hybrids. I really don't know what else to say. I'm kind of ashamed. To think that those who drive hybrid vehicles somehow deserve a better parking spot because of their "green-consciousness" is absolutely ludicrous. I literally don't know what else to say.

That's it. Back to work.

March Madness

No, not basketball. I'm talking about my crazy life, and it's starting to take a toll. This month has been particularly rough.

My life is super busy right now, and I'm starting to feel the effects. I got the lowest grade I've received thus far in seminary: a B-. AHH! I'm such a freak. In high school, I championed the "a C is average, and that's good enough for me," mentality (much to the shagrin of my parents, I might add). But I was really bummed when I got my Christian Heritage mid-term exam back with a score of 81/100. Partly because I thought I did better than that, partly because it was the first time I'd received such a low grade in seminary, and partly because it's a class that I really like! I'm eating up the reading like Garfield on lasagna. I'm one of those nerds that finds the reformation and its repercussions to be fascinating.

I started to take school a lot more seriously when I went back to college (after my freshman year, mind you - it took some growing up before I started studying like I needed to). I pretty much got straight A's through my sophomore, junior, and senior years of college. In fact, I found my undergraduate schooling to be so easy that I actually approached a prof one time and asked him if he was going easy on me (I wasn't used to getting such good grades!). He assured me he wasn't. That trend has carried over into my graduate schooling - until now.

I can only guess that my extremely busy and hectic lifestyle at the moment are the culprits for my poor performance. Things should lighten up a bit after Easter, though, and will certainly lighten up a lot, come this summer. I just need to make it two more months...and no more B minuses (boy, I sound like a stuck up jerk)!

South Dakota Bound

I'm in Sioux Falls, South Dakota this week to attend a required course for my seminary education. I have to take this class before they'll let me take any other classes this spring. It's certainly not the most convenient of trips, but it has to be done.

I came down here last March to visit the campus, and the drive down was less than fun. I was driving at night and found the highways to be sketchy, with spots of ice on them that weren't revealed by the headlights of my car until I was right on top of them. It was rather nerve wracking.

To avoid the same thing happening this time around, I decided to make the trip in the daylight, so even if the roads were bad I'd at least have the light available to navigate them safely.

My plan didn't work.

About half way through the trip, the wind began to blow at an extreme speed. Snow was whipping across the highway, hiding the pavement, and I literally had to adjust my steering to offset the force of the wind. This became especially interesting when I drove under bridges, where there was no wind. As soon as went under the bridge, the wind stopped, and my steering wheel position caused my car to jerk to the right. And then when I was out from beneath the bridge, the wind slammed me back to the left.

And since the snow was blowing so wildly, it was blowing snow all over and across the highway. It wasn't particularly slippery, but it was very difficult to see the road.

So, needless to say, despite my efforts to make my drive this time more comforting and relaxing, it was anything but. Hopefully the trip home (Friday!) will be more smooth.

Not Impressive

The controversy over at Northwestern College continues to flourish, and I am continually surprised at the school's lack of response to the allegations leveled against it. The latest series of questions come in the form of a letter from alumni, parents, financial backers, former board members, etc. to the current board of trustees and the president of the school. I read the letter, and I find myself agreeing with its author(s) - there are serious questions regarding "theological drift" and moral integrity that need to be answered.

And you would think it would behoove the college and the school's president to address these concerns in a timely way, and in a spirit that is seeking after the truth. But from what I can tell, neither of those things have happened. The college's "response" to the letter isn't really much of a response at all. It's just a restatement of their position, that there has never been issues of theological drift or moral integrity at the school (note: this position is one of the things they are accused of in the original letter: simply restating that there is no problem. While this may or may not be the case, it certainly doesn't resolve the matter in the minds of those who have raised the questions).

I'm really confounded by the fact that Northwestern doesn't speak out about these things. There's only one of two possibilities: either the allegations raised by several individuals from all areas (staff, alumni, financial backers, students, etc>0 are completely unfounded or they aren't. If they are unfounded, I would think the school and the president would want to stand up for their reputation, not to mention cling to what is true. If the allegations are true, then I would think the school would want to distance itself from those members of the board and the president in the effort of pursuing righteousness.

But alas, the school has done neither. The ball is in their court. Everybody wants them to respond, but it seems as though they won't. It's not helping their case at all - at least not with me.

I Ain't Got Time To Blog

I suppose the very existence of this text contradicts the title of this post, but it's mostly true nonetheless. I think that my current schedule at this point in my life is perhaps the most time-consuming that it's ever been (and my blog is taking the biggest hit!).

A few months ago I realized that I was always either at work, in my car driving to work, or in my office at home...working (on stuff for my job or for school). I counted out the hours in my week and here's what I came up with:

40 hours per week for my job. It should be noted that I get paid for 40 hours, but I usually end up putting in more than that. It's just one of the perks that comes with being in ministry. I have friends who think I'm an idiot for working such weird and long hours, but I actually enjoy it. I love my job.

12 hours per week preparing for the early church service at Riverview. I'm privileged to be able to lead worship and preach at the early service at the church, however everything I do is strictly on a volunteer basis - it's not a part of my job description. Preparing a 25 minute message, getting the worship songs and other elements of the service together takes a LOT of time.

12 hours per week studying and doing homework. I started seminary this past summer, and I've been trying to go full time, at which I've been successful...so far. Most of my school work gets done at home in my office late at night after everyone else has gone to bed.

So when my week begins, I automatically take 64 hours right off the top - those hours are spoken for, and they are vital for maintaining what I do at my job and for school. But then when you throw in the fact that I'm a husband, father, and homeowner, things start to get difficult. 64 divided by seven days equals approximately 9 hours per day. In other words, if I worked seven days a week, I'd work 9 hours each day. However, this isn't usually how I spread it out (at least not ideally!). I try to do five 12 hour days usually, spreading out the work load of each area in each day.

While it all sounds nice, and it might look like I've got it together, things are coming a bit unraveled. I've been sick recently, and I think it's due to a lack of sleep, bad eating, and just being too busy. Also, my fuse has significantly shortened with my wife and kid. It's difficult to throw all of those things into the mix and still be everything to everybody (it should be noted that I realize that I can't be everything to everybody, but I try to do what I can however, even that is tough).

Something's got to change in order for me to maintain my sanity, and I think I've figured it out. I'm going to cut back on my school credits per semester. For example, I was planning to drive down to Sioux Falls for two weeks in January to take a J-Term class and pick up three credits. I don't think I would survive the trip. My wife (who's expecting by the way - oh yeah, add that into the mix too!) would go nuts being by herself for two weeks, my kid would have nowhere to go and no one to care for him, I'd have to take time off work and would get behind as a result, and my message prep for church would probably end up taking the back burner during those weeks - something I'm not willing to do. So I cancelled the J-Term trip, and I'm going to scale back the amount of credits I take in the spring semester. It's not much of a down scale, but I think it'll work Maybe then I'll have more time to blog (for the both of you who read this)!

Theological Drift

Last weekend my sister called me and asked if I'd heard about all of the "controversy" going on at Northwestern College, my alma mater. I told her that no, I hadn't heard about anything controversial that was going on at Northwestern. She proceeded to send me a link to this website. Some unidentified affiliates of the college formed this website that contains documents that spell out the entire affair. To save you a lot of reading time, let me summarize what I gleaned from the site and the documents found therein: it turns out that some faculty members and trustees from the board have begun to feel that there is a bit of a "theological drift" toward postmodernism and liberalism at the college that has taken place over the last several years. These faculty members and trustees have expressed their concerns to the administration and, despite promises that there would be no repercussions for their opinions, some of them have since been demoted or replaced. And to further the tension, the faculty was surveyed and it was found that at least 44% of the faculty feels that there is a spirit of "fear and mistrust" present on the campus. That doesn't sound too good!

As a graduate of Northwestern I am concerned about the potential of theological drift (however my experiences as a student weren't necessarily laden with solid, conservative, traditional theology - a lot of my professors had somewhat of a "I'm not going to tell you what's right, I want you to figure out what's right" kind of attitude about theology, which is fine and to be expected at the undergraduate level, except when people think heresy is right. At that point a professor needs to step in.). I certainly don't want to see Northwestern tend towards liberalism and postmodernism.

For more info on the scandal, check out my sister's blog - she summarizes the whole situation nicely.

There's a forum to address the controversy scheduled for students, faculty, and alumni this Thursday. I plan to attend.