On Being a Theologian and Teacher

It is a bit intimidating or challenging to be asked to write an essay on the vocation of being a theologian or teacher. Am I really a “theologian”? I find it easier to accept the title “teacher,” but “theologian”? On paper it would seem I am a theologian. I am nearing the 30-year mark of teaching theology in a university setting, and will soon be moving institutions to teach in a seminary setting. So, even if I tremble a bit to call myself a “theologian,” if the shoe fits . . .

I have focused my attention in this essay on several areas, and will cover these in turn: (1) my own call and journey to the role of being a theologian and teacher; (2) the actual task of being a theologian and teacher; and finally, (3) I will conclude with a few general reflections on what have learned as I enter into my seventh decade.

My Own Call and Journey Toward Being a Theologian and Teacher

I became a Christian when I was a boy—a 12-year-old boy in Anchorage, Alaska. I grew up in a somewhat secular setting, though there was a vibrant Christian minority in Anchorage. I was surrounded by unbelievers, various groups like the Mormons, and a few Christians. I remember sitting in my pastor’s office, trying to get a hold on what I believed. What did it mean to be a Baptist? 

When I went to university (Northeast Louisiana University, in Monroe, Louisiana), I was growing in my faith and would eventually stumble into the works of C.S. Lewis and Francis Schaeffer. It was also during the height of the charismatic movement, so there was all of that to try and figure out. Toward the end of university I enrolled at The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. And as soon as I graduated from university, I packed my car and was on my way to Louisville.

I have given lectures for almost thirty years on how to discern the will of God. It is much easier to give lectures on discerning the will of God than to actually discern the will of God. I loved seminary, and I loved stumbling into this or that theological issue, and realizing that I had oh so much to learn. As I neared the end of seminary I realized I wanted to continue to study. So, I began to cast around for what might be the next step. I settled on a masters program, the newly started Th.M. program at Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary. This would allow me to study in particular with three stellar scholars: Millard Erickson (who came to SWBTS the same time I did), James Leo Garrett (perhaps the preeminent scholar of Baptist theology of his era), and E. Earle Ellis (one of the finest New Testament scholars of his era). It was a dream team, and I am still thankful for the influence of each of these men. 

During the one year of course work toward the Th.M., and the one year of thesis writing to follow, I was feeling more and more convinced that I was on the right track. I wanted to continue to study, and would soon enroll in the Ph.D. program at Baylor University.

It is worth pausing for a moment. The call to academic study, as well as to the academic life of scholarship and teaching can likely be a mixed bag. That is, it can be hard to disentangle the desire for further study from “empty ambition” (Colossians 2:8), and from the knowledge which “puffs up” (1 Corinthians 8:1). So, there is little doubt that I likely had a mix of motives: some more or less good and right, and some concerned with making a name for myself (being “known,” etc.). I take solace that the same—or similar—temptations could bedevil virtually any vocational path. Whether we should follow Luther’s counsel to “sin boldly” I do not know, but it seems clear that we have no option as finite creatures but to follow the Lord the best we know how, knowing that we will almost always have a complicated stew of motives.

Perhaps one of the best ways I can summarize my growing sense that I ought to pursue the life of teaching and scholarship was simply the growing desire to do so—though I grant “desire” can be difficult to always trust. But there was a growing sense that I ought to pursue the life of teaching and scholarship.

I should also add that there were key persons who at key moments affirmed my efforts and offered a sort of confirmation of where I thought I was headed. Those stories are best shared privately.

The Task of Being a Theologian and Teacher

I remember in my Ph.D. program one of the professors asked me what was most important to me in terms of my theological and writing interests. I said that I wanted to try and articulate the Christian faith vis-à-vis our contemporary moment. That is, I was interested in thinking through and articulating the Christian faith against the backdrop of our current age. The professor with whom I was speaking had no real idea how to respond. It was as if such an interest was completely foreign to him. I now know that the impulse to which I was giving voice was really simply a rather traditional understanding of the nature of theology. That is, at least one of the central tasks of the theologian is to try and articulate the biblical understanding of God and God’s ways with the world, and to try and do so in a way that communicates to one’s own age. That is simply what theology is.

I suppose teaching is an art and a science. I have told students that when a student registers for a class, what they are really registering for—in a sense—is that professor. If the teacher is actually a teacher, what the students encounter in the classroom is the particular subject mediated by that particular professor. I think this is simply inescapable. James 3 talks about the great level of judgment which faces teachers:

Not many of you should become teachers, my brothers, for you know that we who teach will be judged with greater strictness.

I think James is likely thinking of teachers in a church context, but there is probably an analog for other teachers or professors, especially those who teach in the realm of Bible, theology, church history, etc. The influence that a teacher can have is profound—all the more reason to be well-read, diligent, honest, and prepared.

The fact that there is a higher judgment for teachers (even though James is most likely speaking directly of teachers in the church) should spur theologians and teachers on to deep and consistent times of study. We have all, most likely, known of teachers who may or may not have engaged in such study. Perhaps they earned their Ph.D., and have essentially somewhat coasted after that time. That simply should not be an option for the conscientious and diligent theologian or teacher. I still live in the city and teach in the institution at which I began to teach 28 years ago. I will not uncommonly see students I taught from the beginning of my teaching career. I will sometimes joke (?) that I wish I could have them in class again, because I have improved a lot since that time. I certainly should be a better teacher and theologian than the person I was almost three decades ago. A good theologian and teacher is one who is always honing and improving in one’s craft.

Some Reflections

Let me share one idea related to the craft of being a theologian and teacher—the task of writing. I think it is completely possible to be an excellent teacher and never produce this or that piece of scholarship. At the same time, there is a kind of “fittingness” that exists between the craft of being a theologian or teacher and writing. Perhaps this is in part because of an insight that Augustine wrote about in City of God. Augustine could write that persons learn what they think about something by writing about it. That is, it is through the actual task and discipline of writing that one—at least more thoroughly and deeply—grasps what one thinks or believes. 

This is analogous to what happens in the classroom or pulpit. In my experience, shared by others with whom I speak, the thinking and writing process works something like the following. One is in the midst of lecturing or preaching, and all of a sudden one has an insight or thought which (seemingly?) had not been fully formulated until that point. But in the midst of teaching or preaching, one thinks: “Yes, that is what I have been trying to work out.” I believe this happens in a certain way when writing. As one writes, one is forced to take what might be somewhat unformed or undeveloped thoughts, and work them through. As one writes, one realizes what one is getting at. In short, the task or discipline of writing forces one to truly develop and clarify what one really thinks. 

Conclusion

I am now in my seventh decade, and will (Lord willing), soon complete thirty years of teaching. I hope I will teach for many more years. It is a humbling reality to be a theologian and teacher (or it certainly should be). One is, at least potentially, shaping a generation of persons in their thinking about the most important issues imaginable—who God is, what other things are in relation to God, and how God and the world relate. These are weighty matters indeed. The theologian and teacher should most certainly be humbled, because this person has been called to spend a life (or part of a life) stewarding the mysteries of God. The true theologian must therefore engage in the basics, repeatedly and faithfully: study and pray, study and pray, study and pray.