Monday, May 22, 2017

Today is the day...


It’s graduation season. As such, people all over the United States will flock to countless academic institutions to celebrate the achievements of their loved ones. One of the more memorable elements of any graduation ceremony, at least in higher education, is the processional of the professors. This is where all the professors line up behind a grand marshal and march into the room to take their place near the graduating students. What makes this processional so intriguing is the eclectic mix of academic regalia. There are so many colors and styles to the robes worn by the professors, and to be honest, these outfits are kind of a big deal. However, there is a level of irony that gravitates around these academic outfits. Save for convocations, graduations, and other “official" academic celebrations, one's regalia normally just hangs in the professor’s office essentially as decoration piece.

Yet one’s academic regalia is also something of a proclamation. By means of its design and color scheme, these outfits identify the professor with their ultimate level of education and the institution from which they graduated. So, when a professor puts on their regalia, it becomes a statement of their academic history and heritage. By implication, these statements are also something of a status symbol.

“Look at Prof. So-and-so. They graduated from Harvard…those are Harvard’s colors.”

When I defended my dissertation in 2012, I received my academic regalia as a gift from my parents. They spent way too much money on it, but they were happy to make the purchase. In their minds, it was money well spent, for it symbolized the culmination of their son’s 25 years of formal education. I am grateful for their gift. However, I must confess that for five years now it was been a bit of a sore spot for me…a source of frustration every time I saw that black plastic garment bag hanging in the closet.

After graduation, I gathered with my professors and fellow graduates for a picture (almost 5 years ago to date). As this unfolded, I distinctly remember one of my professors looking at me and saying, “You are going to get a lot of use out of this.” In response, I said nothing. Why? Because I didn’t believe him. There was no job other than the one waiting for me in the private sector selling industrial bearings. The whole pomp and circumstance was somewhat demoralizing.

So, after graduation I packed up that expensive robe set and hung it in the corner of a closet, as far out of sight as possible. I didn’t want to look at it. It symbolized my greatest frustration—years of theological education in the pursuit of a calling and passion that I knew was real…but had very little to show for it.

Since that day in May 2012 I have opened up that closet for a number of reasons, and each time I have felt those emotions of frustration rise. Childish? Perhaps. But the thought of that garb hanging in the closet has kept me grounded and focused on a field that is getting more difficult to penetrate by the day.

But today is the day that I take out that regalia and say, “Hello," because today is the day that I signed my first official, real contract. So, I celebrate my appointment as Assistant Professor of Old Testament for Wesley Biblical Seminary.

I am extremely grateful for this opportunity. This school, based in Jackson, MS, aligns with my theological heritage, and it will offer me a more official, somewhat permanent context to do what I love—study Scripture and teach the Old Testament. Most importantly, this is an opportunity to live out a calling first detected my Freshman year of College. It has been a challenging journey at times, but God is faithful.

Now, I have a chapter to write on the Gilgamesh Epic....