The Lord has blessed me with the opportunity to attend seminary twice. During that process, I made more than a few mistakes and observed the mistakes of others. I’ve decided to detail a few of the more common blunders here with the hope that they will serve as a warning sign for current and future seminarians.
“If any man aspires to the office of overseer, it is a fine work he desires to do” (1 Tim. 3:1)
Aspiration is good if it is aimed at the right thing. But in a world of celebrity pastors and concert-style conferences, one can understand why the definition of “overseer” may be skewed. And one way to make seminary a complete waste of time is to have a distorted aspiration. Carl Truman raised this issue when he was a seminary professor:
“If I asked students ‘Who do you want to be like?’ The aspirational model of ministry is increasingly one which is nothing like that which they’re actually going to experience. Most students leaving are going to be pastoring in churches like the one I’m connected to. We’re 100 people on a Sunday morning. Maybe we’ll grow to 200, God willing, in the next ten years . . . But most of my students are going to go out and pastor small, unknown churches.”
If men attend seminary with the delusion that they will have the same kind of ministry as John Piper or John MacArthur, they will be sorely disappointed. Trueman continues,
“The aspiration model, I think, connects to the intrusion of worldly categories of success, as opposed to faith categories. When Paul in 1 Timothy is wrestling with the fact that he’s about to pass away and the apostles are going away, he writes to Timothy. He doesn’t say to Timothy ‘The way to safeguard Christian teaching and Christian behavior for the next generation is to find another twelve really charismatic guys to carry the message forward.’ What he says is, ‘Find yourself some ordinary guys who are respected in the church, respected in their communities. If they’re married, they should have brought up their families well and they should be able to teach.”
Many men will graduate seminary, pastor a small church, and (very often) work a second job. But bi-vocational ministry and low church attendance are not signs of failure unless you have the wrong aspiration.
A shockingly high number of students show up to seminary with the fantasy that they could teach many of the classes they attend. This was probably the case in previous generations, but it has undoubtedly been accelerated by the prominence of expressive individualism—the idea that we must express ourselves unreservedly and have a right to do so.
Yuval Levin explains the effect of expressive individualism on establishments like the seminary: “We have moved, roughly speaking, from thinking of institutions as molds that shape people’s character and habits toward seeing them as platforms that allow people to be themselves and to display themselves before a wider world.”1
Seminary is a place of formation, not a place of performance. And this formation often involves being quiet and accepting correction. Consider these proverbs,
Scripture is clear: If you want to be a fool, speak your mind unguardedly and ignore correction. So if you want to waste your time in seminary, think more highly of yourself and your abilities than you ought.
For most men, life in seminary includes homework and at least one job. For many others, it also includes the duties of being a husband and father. This crucible of responsibilities has a purifying effect—whatever can go, must go. Free time is a thing of the past and homework is your only hobby.
Because of this, there is a temptation to seek a lower level of responsibility in the church. Skipping the assembly on the Lord’s Day is obviously out of the question (Heb. 10:23–25), but perhaps you can avoid serving in any substantial way. Maybe it’s possible to coast at church.
This kind of thinking betrays the whole purpose of seminary. Whether you intend to pursue ministry or academics, love for the church is a prerequisite. Remember Paul’s attitude toward the Thessalonian church, “But we proved to be gentle among you, as a nursing mother tenderly cares for her own children. Having so fond an affection for you, we were well-pleased to impart to you not only the gospel of God but also our own lives, because you had become very dear to us” (1 Thess. 2:7–8).
Instead of putting this love on hold for three to four years, seminary is a time to cultivate it. What better place to prepare for ministry than in the church itself?
Seminary is supposed to be difficult. This drives some seminarians into the path of least resistance. There are no easy Greek, Hebrew, or theology classes, but maybe you think that one will be easier than the others, so you choose it for no other reason than personal comfort.
This is the exact opposite of what Paul commanded Timothy to do in 2 Timothy 2:15, “Be diligent to present yourself approved to God as a workman who does not need to be ashamed, accurately handling the word of truth.” Various English translations render “be diligent” as “Do your best” (NIV) and “Work hard” (NLT). If we are to be faithful ministers, we are to be hard workers.
Matthew Henry pulls no punches in his comments on 2 Timothy 2:15, “Ministers must be workmen; they have work to do, and they must take pains in it. Workmen that are unskillful, or unfaithful, or lazy, have need to be ashamed; but those who mind their business, and keep to their work, are workmen that need not be ashamed.” By taking the path of least resistance, you shortchange both yourself and the people you will serve in the future. You become the type of workman that ought to be ashamed.
In the world of the 24-hour news cycle, spending three or four years on a Master of Divinity can feel like an eternity. Theological controversies will arise. Polemical books will be written. Political catastrophes will occur. But the task of the seminarian is to keep his hand to the plow and prepare for ministry.
Sinclair Ferguson explains, “Our world is fast-paced, consumer-driven, image-focused, media-dominated, and has become accustomed to immediate responses. It does not encourage the slow-burning disciplines that produce character.”2 If you are going to succeed as a student, you must accept the slow-burning nature of seminary.
Scripture even warns of hastiness. Proverbs 19:2 says, “It is not good for a person to be without knowledge, and he who hurries his footsteps errs” (cf. Prov. 21:5). There is no way to hurry the path to knowledge without introducing error, and there is no way to rush through seminary without cheapening the experience.
“Haste makes waste,” as the saying goes.
So, if you 1) begin with the wrong aspirations, 2) think more highly of yourself than you ought, 3) ignore the local church, 4) take the easy road, and 5) rush, seminary will be a complete waste of time.
Suggested Resources
“Living as an Ideal Seminary Student” by Joel Beeke
“A Warning Against Spiritual Pride” by Mike Riccardi
“Excessive Ambition” by Kevin Zuber
References
[1] Yuval Levin, A Time to Build: From Family and Community to Congress and Campus: How Recommitting to Our Institutions Can Revive the American Dream (New York: Basic Books, 2020), 33 – 34. Quoted in Carl R. Trueman, The Rise and Triumph of the Modern Self: Cultural Amnesia, Expressive Individualism, and the Road to Sexual Revolution (Wheaton: Crossway, 2020), 49.
[2] Sinclair B. Ferguson, Maturity: Growing Up and Going on in the Christian Life (Edinburgh: Banner of Truth, 2019), 4.