A mighty fortress is our God,
a bulwark never failing;
Our helper he, amid the flood
of mortal ills prevailing:
For still our ancient foe
doth seek to work us woe;
His craft and power are great,
and, armed with cruel hate,
On earth is not his equal.

~ Martin Luther

Fall 1979, South Hamilton, Massachusetts, Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary

The strong, deep chorus of male voices resonating in the chapel of the old convent sent chills down my spine. I pinched myself as I left the glorious chapel service and walked across the majestic hilltop to the library to study. Was it real? Was I really in seminary, sitting at the feet of the great Bible scholars, being trained for a lifetime of ministry? The library atmosphere enveloped me. Its inexhaustible supply of books was intoxicating — systematic theologies, commentaries, biographies, church histories, Calvin's Institutes...

It was hard to concentrate on my church history assignment, not only because of the sea of books surrounding me, but because of the escalating voices of two students having an intense argument behind me. It was the typical Calvinist/Arminian debate — election versus free will — and they were going at it "hammer & tongs." Somehow that moment vividly represented to me the whole bloody history of the church. That very morning I had been troubled to hear of John Calvin having Michael Servetus burned at the stake for refusing to believe in the Trinity. The professor only lamented the fact that Christians no longer had that same passion to be "Defenders of the Faith" like John Calvin.

Over the course of that year my thoughts increasingly troubled me, and my doubts grew that the lofty realm of seminary had anything to do with the simple but profound love of the Carpenter from Galilee and His rough-hewn disciples who turned their world upside down. I left seminary, longing for the life of those first disciples.

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