R. Scott Clark
Puritan Board Senior
Jerrold,
In the interests of time, I would like to focus on one question of principle rather than the particulars of your proposal.
We've been round this pole more than a few times and I don't expect to convince you, but I hope that you will at least appreciate how it seems to me that your approach is a subtle sort of anti-intellectualism.
I think there is a difference between real, professional scholarship and that of the amateur variety. Frankly, most pastors are amateurs and they who have attended real seminaries know it. They see what real scholarship looks like and they know that isn't what they do.
Real scholarship involves the reading of primary and secondary texts. It involves the critical appreciation of both. This is part of what separates professional scholars from amateurs. The latter only know what they read from the professionals and, to a larger degree, must rely on the judgment of professionals. For example, I'm working on Olevianus' Pauline Commentaries. Hardly anyone knows anything about them. Certainly pastors don't and aren't in a position to do. My students know what I tell them. Even if they could read Latin (a few of them can) they aren't equipped to put into proper context what they're reading. That's what I do and have been doing full-time since 1993.
That's okay, they're not meant to be full-time vocational scholars and the profs aren't meant to be full-time vocational pastors (though our faculty are part-time pastors; we all preach, we all visit hospitals, we all serve our congregtions; we all do counseling etc so we are not remote from the life of the church as some (not you) like to insinuate.
It seems to me that you're saying that we really don't need scholars (as I've defined them) to teach our students. You seem to be saying that it's okay for well-read pastors (of which there are relatively few, it seems to me) teach other, younger, pastors. In my view, that is a form of anti-intellectualism, because though it professes to value learning, it only values it as a credential ("union card" to use Fred's term) or insofar as it is immediately practical to the life of the church.
As to the nature of seminaries, I don't have time to sketch the whole history of education, but I take issue with your characterization. A university education was the norm from the 12-13th centuries. Calvin's lack of theological training was an anomaly and not entirely helpful. There may have been some benefits (some have argued) but arguably the Reformed after him and to clean up a bit because of his lack of training in some questions. There are things he didn't anticipate. His humanism (which some have over-emphasized) did help him leave us with a sound hermeneutic which makes his commentaries still remarkably useful (!) but you'll notice that the Reformed did not quote him slavishly and even took issue with him not long after his death. Luther's education was more typical.
To those who've complained about the time it takes, well, since the 13th century anyway, it's always taken a certain number of years to earn a BA and then a BD or an Masters. These processes developed out of the practice of the church before the Reformation and were revised but not fundamentally rejected by the Protestants.
We're our primary education as strong as Calvin's and our university training as strong as his (in classical education) we might be able to shorten things a bit, but even in the 16th century, when there was rather less to read, they still took their time.
One of Calvin's great aims was to establish an Academy. He finally achieved it late in life. By the early 17th century, all the Reformed were university educated (with at least a BA, which in England matured to a Master of Ars) and many took a BD as well.
Thus, the idea that a university educated ministry (a sem faculty is, historically considered) a university faculty in exile that has morphed in the 20th century into a tertium quid, is a product of the Enlightenment is something I don't understand at all.
rsc
In the interests of time, I would like to focus on one question of principle rather than the particulars of your proposal.
We've been round this pole more than a few times and I don't expect to convince you, but I hope that you will at least appreciate how it seems to me that your approach is a subtle sort of anti-intellectualism.
I think there is a difference between real, professional scholarship and that of the amateur variety. Frankly, most pastors are amateurs and they who have attended real seminaries know it. They see what real scholarship looks like and they know that isn't what they do.
Real scholarship involves the reading of primary and secondary texts. It involves the critical appreciation of both. This is part of what separates professional scholars from amateurs. The latter only know what they read from the professionals and, to a larger degree, must rely on the judgment of professionals. For example, I'm working on Olevianus' Pauline Commentaries. Hardly anyone knows anything about them. Certainly pastors don't and aren't in a position to do. My students know what I tell them. Even if they could read Latin (a few of them can) they aren't equipped to put into proper context what they're reading. That's what I do and have been doing full-time since 1993.
That's okay, they're not meant to be full-time vocational scholars and the profs aren't meant to be full-time vocational pastors (though our faculty are part-time pastors; we all preach, we all visit hospitals, we all serve our congregtions; we all do counseling etc so we are not remote from the life of the church as some (not you) like to insinuate.
It seems to me that you're saying that we really don't need scholars (as I've defined them) to teach our students. You seem to be saying that it's okay for well-read pastors (of which there are relatively few, it seems to me) teach other, younger, pastors. In my view, that is a form of anti-intellectualism, because though it professes to value learning, it only values it as a credential ("union card" to use Fred's term) or insofar as it is immediately practical to the life of the church.
As to the nature of seminaries, I don't have time to sketch the whole history of education, but I take issue with your characterization. A university education was the norm from the 12-13th centuries. Calvin's lack of theological training was an anomaly and not entirely helpful. There may have been some benefits (some have argued) but arguably the Reformed after him and to clean up a bit because of his lack of training in some questions. There are things he didn't anticipate. His humanism (which some have over-emphasized) did help him leave us with a sound hermeneutic which makes his commentaries still remarkably useful (!) but you'll notice that the Reformed did not quote him slavishly and even took issue with him not long after his death. Luther's education was more typical.
To those who've complained about the time it takes, well, since the 13th century anyway, it's always taken a certain number of years to earn a BA and then a BD or an Masters. These processes developed out of the practice of the church before the Reformation and were revised but not fundamentally rejected by the Protestants.
We're our primary education as strong as Calvin's and our university training as strong as his (in classical education) we might be able to shorten things a bit, but even in the 16th century, when there was rather less to read, they still took their time.
One of Calvin's great aims was to establish an Academy. He finally achieved it late in life. By the early 17th century, all the Reformed were university educated (with at least a BA, which in England matured to a Master of Ars) and many took a BD as well.
Thus, the idea that a university educated ministry (a sem faculty is, historically considered) a university faculty in exile that has morphed in the 20th century into a tertium quid, is a product of the Enlightenment is something I don't understand at all.
rsc