SchneiderWeb

In an acknowledgement that the amount of reading collectively assigned among all the classes is not feasible (and that's only the required reading, not to mention the "suggested" reading), the administration designates one week in the middle of the semester as Reading Week, in which all classes are cancelled, to allow students to catch up on their reading. I spent the last four days catching up on the reading for my OT class, for which I have a midterm next week. I feel like I have memorized the OT, at least up to 2 Kings, which is the extent of the OT that the class has covered thus far. However, I'm sure that actually taking the midterm will disabuse me of that notion.

That was a favorite expression of my favorite high school teacher--Mr. Rooney. He even vowed that on his tombstone he would have written, "The bear ate me." Last week I got back the grade on my first paper, which was for Early and Medieval Church History. The topic was the Arian and Nestorian controversies in the early church and how they were resolved through the first four ecumenical councils. On the one hand, it was my first academic paper in 17 years, so I harbored some anxiety; on the other hand, I felt that I had a good grasp of the topic, and so I was quietly confident that I would do well. I received an A. I have to admit, I took it as confirmation that I had a handle on this whole seminary thing. John 1, Bear 0. What a difference a week makes. I felt less confident on my first paper for my Old Testament class. The topic was Rahab the prostitute from Joshua 2: Was she a woman of faith, a traitor to her people, or a pragmatist out for her own survival? I chose the ...

One of the things I like about the worship service at Princeton is that the musical director incorporates worship music from a host of different cultures. In my one month at PTS I've heard everything from bluegrass to gospel to Native American to West African to Spanish to Gregorian to Hillsong to traditional hymns. Walking into the chapel for yesterday's worship, I was reminded that communion is served on Fridays. The servers were working out who would stand where to distribute communion. I settled into my seat and began looking over the bulletin to see what the music for the service would be, when suddenly I recognized a familiar four-note arpeggio pattern. The instrumentation, however, seemed different, higher pitched--perhaps a mandolin? Then a female voice sang an ascending line that rose above the mandolin: "I can't believe the news today / I can't close my eyes and make it go away." I looked up from the bulletin so that my eyes could confirm what I ...

Something I told (although not "promised") myself I'd do this semester is attend morning prayer and chapel service as much as possible. Morning prayer is from 8:00 to 8:20, and my first class is at 8:30 four days a week. Chapel service runs from 11:30 to 12:00, while my last class ends at 11:20 on some days and at 10:20 on others. So my schedule is pretty well positioned to make both morning prayer and chapel service most days. For the first few weeks I was a faithful attendee of both, save for Wednesdays when I don't have class. Then I had to write my first paper. Or I needed to catch up on my reading which I had neglected so I could write my paper. Or since the dogs have been staying with me I needed to get back to the apartment and keep them company. Or I became engrossed in conversation with a fellow student after class. I had no problem choosing from any number of excuses. Even at seminary, spiritual discipline is a struggle. I am happy to report that today I...

Last Thursday I attended an Orthodox service with a group of students from my Early and Medieval Church History class. The service was both jarringly different from what I've grown accustomed to in the Presbyterian churches I've been attending for the last nine years, and yet also comfortably reminiscent of the Catholic Mass with which I grew up.   The service was held in the basement of a Roman Catholic church. Our group, comprising about 8 students and two preceptors, entered the church through a back door and instantly found ourselves face to face with the choir and the priest, who was dispersing incense through an implement that I'm sure has a formal name but of which I'm unaware. Icons of various forms--paintings, statues, carvings--lined all four walls. Self-consciously we took our seats in the back. Actually, we didn't do much sitting, because the Orthodox stand for almost the entire service, although they sit for Scripture readings. The priest began the ...