Challenge to Devotion

I had no idea what to expect on my first day at Southwestern Seminary in Houston. After taking my seat in the back of the classroom, I soon received advice from my Greek professor. Advice that has marked my memory. Jaime--my professor was very informal, despite his serious command of the biblical languages--said, "One of the most important things you can leave seminary with is friendships." Eager yet anxious to start learning, I was surprised by his advice. Not knowledge or training--which, of course, are immensely important--but friendships.

Indeed some of the sweetest fruit of my time in seminary is the handful of, I pray, lifelong, deep friendships with brothers who long to faithfully serve the Lord and his church. (Little did I know that one of my best friends received the same counsel from Jaime that night, and we would only get to know each other a year later at a seminary in Louisville.)

Today was one of my favorite days in seminary. After hearing a deeply challenging sermon in chapel, a couple of friends and I discussed its implications on us and our families. Jaime's advice resonates as I anticipate some of my most treasured moments in seminary happening outside the class, in a room, where friends exhort one another to love Jesus and love people. I share this with encouragement (1) to listen to David Platt's message on Hebrews 13.11-14 and (2) to establish and savor the rewards of meaningful friendships that count for Christ.

I close with a quote from C.S. Lewis' "Weight of Glory," which was shared with my Doctrine of Humanity class this week. It's relevant, I think, to this post. Read it, considering that all people are made in the image of God, and that all people ultimately will either bear that image gloriously as a result of Christ's work in their lives or they will continue to distort the image to destruction with sin. And consider that our interactions with one another are meaningful...

It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare. All day long we are, in some degree, helping each other to one or the other of these destinations. It is in the light of these overwhelming possibilities, it is with the awe and the circumspection proper to them, that we should conduct all our dealings with one another, all friendships, all loves, all play, all politics. There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal.