Dear Friends,
Well, I blinked and the semester ended. I knew my time at Duke would whiz by when I received an e-mail the first month of classes informing me of the deadline to apply for graduation. I came to Duke full of anxiety and excitement. Anxiety because of fears I would not measure up (unfounded as it turns out) and excitement because I am finally doing what I was born to do—preparing for a career in biblical studies. In the family album, there is a photograph of me as a three-year-old, curled up on the couch fast asleep with a treasured possession tucked under my arm. It was not a teddy bear, but a tiny New Testament (which I later beautified with a fluorescent green “Christian fish” sticker). I didn’t know how to read yet, but already I loved that Book about God.
As a young teen, I bought a “Teach-Yourself-How-To-Read-Biblical-Greek” workbook. I didn’t get far on my own though. I had no mentors to guide me. I grew up in a tradition that discouraged women from wandering into the male domain of theology. In fact, it was so ingrained in me that women were not allowed to critically study and teach Bible that it never dawned on me to go to seminary, despite my long-running interest in the biblical text. I thought if I applied I would be denied or relegated to the “women’s track.” It wasn’t until 2003, when Pastor Rene Schlaepfer suggested seminary, that I realized it was a possibility. I applied immediately, and haven’t looked back since.
Coming to Duke has been especially meaningful because of its female faculty. Despite growing up in the church and attending Bible college and seminary, I never met a female Bible scholar. In fact, I had never met a woman who attended seminary until I met Pastor Rene’s wife. Next semester, for the first time in my life, I will study under two female Old Testament scholars, Dr. Ellen Davis and Dr. Anathea Portier-Young. These are brilliant women. I mean, literally, brilliant (I will also have the privilege of taking a religion class from Dr. Lauren Winner—an equally gifted scholar). I can’t tell you what that does for my spirit. Just thinking about it makes me very emotional. It validates an integral part of me that was rejected and repressed for so long. Discovering there are women in the world who “look like me” is a healing balm.
In addition to reveling in academics, other meaningful things have transpired during my short time in Durham, North Carolina. I wrote a chapter for a book, engaged the homosexuality debate in my new church, and attended a funeral of a man I never met. Recently, I was asked to write a chapter on ministering to women with same-sex attraction for the book Shepherding Women in Pain. I am one of 17 contributing authors discussing a wide range of issues pastors and lay leaders might encounter when serving women in their congregations. In between moving across the country and starting classes, I scrambled to pull something together. Given more time I would have refined the writing, but overall I’m satisfied with the content given the vastness of the topic and the brevity of space allowed. I learned this week that my chapter was accepted with no changes, despite being several pages over the allotted amount. The book is scheduled to be released in April 2010. It is a practical resource with a template “what to do, what not to do” format. I am curious to read what the other contributors have written.
Speaking of homosexuality, when I arrived in Durham, I showed up for church to find the group was in the middle of a series on sex. Homosexuality was next on the agenda. “What a coincidence,” I thought. Within three Sundays I was giving a presentation to these people I had just met. This small house church has a range of theological beliefs from conservative to quite liberal. It has been a learning experience navigating how to be a church with such a diverse group. In addition to my presentation, another participant, Dave, led a discussion on the gay-affirming perspective. Dave and I are very similar—opinionated and passionate. This made for some intense discussions. So, we had lunch together one afternoon to get to know each other better. He is a great guy with a compassionate heart for people. We are trying to discover together what it means to be brother and sister in the same church despite our different views.
Another event that had an impact on me this semester was the death of a man I never met. David Knauert had just completed his Ph.D. in Hebrew Bible at Duke last spring and was about to move to Brazil to commence his dream job teaching at the Post-Graduate Ecumenical Institute in Sao Paulo. He died suddenly while jogging, leaving behind a wife and four children. He was only 38 years old. When I saw the announcement that went out through the Divinity School e-mail chain, my heart sank. It seemed so incomprehensible that a man who had worked so hard to prepare for service was taken on the cusp of his dream. It seemed utterly senseless that four children, ages 4-11, would grow up without their father, and that his wife would be widowed so young. Why did God allow this to happen? It stirred up my own fears of premature death and anxiety about the sovereignty of God. Would God shatter my dreams too?
I decided to attend the funeral to support the family and to remind myself of how fleeting life is. I watched as the casket moved slowly down the aisle just inches from me. I saw David’s wife and children walk past me. It was sobering and surreal. I have spent several weeks mediating on what it means to trust God. I, too, hope to earn a Ph.D. in Hebrew Bible. But, as David’s death reminds me, my dreams must find their place in God alone. In his song, Dream Come True, Dennis Jernigan sings:
Dreams are meant for dreaming, but dreams may not come true.
When my dreams are shattered Lord, I lift them up to you.
And no one can take that away. You are my dream come true.
Dreams are meant for dreamers. So, that’s what I will do.
Here is my heart for dreaming, Lord. So, let your Light pour through.
No one can take that away. All of my dreams are in You.
The uncertainty of life scares me. I cannot control my circumstances or anyone else’s. It is a haunting vulnerability. Yet, that fear forces me to evaluate what I really believe. Do I truly believe there is a God? Do I believe he is good? Good enough to trust when dreams are shattered? When Jesus’ followers were disillusioned, and many of them left, he asked Peter, “Do you want to leave me too?” Peter replied, “Where else can I go? You have the words of life.” That is where I find myself—where else can I go? There is no where else. So, I hold fast to what I believe is true: every good and perfect gift comes from God. Ultimately, our dreams are found in him, and nothing can take that away.
I would love to hear what you have been pondering and experiencing over the past year. And I hope your Christmas is peaceful, meaningful and glad.
Love, Karen
