I’ve just spent two days at Yale Divinity School; I am exhausted and elated. The first day was spent in a more informal setting, going to classes, taking a tour of New Haven and the larger and campus, and participating in the life of the community. The second day was the official Admitted Students’ Day, full of the nuts and bolts of being a student at Yale… financial aid and such. Instead of going strictly chronologically through my visit, I will proceed more thematically.
Academics
We started the day in the common room at YDS. After getting a much-needed cup of coffee and a muffin, I was immediately drawn to a large oil painting hanging on the wall. The subject of the portrait was Margaret Farley, an ethicist who just recently retired from the YDS faculty and focused on justice in relationships. I chuckled a little when I saw the portrait…I had Prof. Farley’s latest book in my bag. I have been using her work for one of my MA portfolio papers.
We were given options of classes to attend during both morning session and afternoon session. I chose New Testament and a Class devoted to the work of Walter Brueggemann. In the New Testament class, one piece of advice that was given to us new students by a current student was that everything we knew about the Bible would be challenged in class. Yet, during the course of the class, I realized that much of the material presented I had already known, such as the issue of authorship of some of the letters attributed to Paul and the nature (and complement) of disciples writing in the name of teacher, which was a common practice in antiquity. All of the reading I had done under the tutelage of my rectors, grandparents-in-law, on my own, and through the religious studies program seems to have taken away the shock of modern Biblical studies. This is not to say that I have nothing more to learn, however, I certainly do... but I feel I’m prepared to be inspired by the insightful nature of the classes, not surprised by the nature of the field. The class was certainly insightful as we looked at the epistles to the Colossians and Ephesians.
Similarly, during the Walter Brueggemann course, it became clear that critiques of authors and pulling out the assumptions of their work is something I’ve been doing for a long time now. I can’t wait to learn the methods that come with the study of theology. In religious studies, one does not begin with the presupposition of God, which theology seems to do. One of the students in that class was interested primarily in the study of theodicy, and I expressed my interest in the field as well. I gave her the syllabus to the class on the Holocaust I am taking, which deals with Jewish (and Christian) theodicy in light of such evil. Later, she ran into me in the library and showed me that she had found and purchased one of the books from the syllabus, which she found in the YDS bookstore. By the way, the divinity school has its own dedicated bookstore.
Marquand Chapel
Ecumenical worship is held in Marquand chapel everyday at 10:30 am. The services seem to be consistently amazing and pull from many traditions. The worship also frequently borders on the experimental. Wednesday was sung Morning Prayer. The music was very much like was Chad has been doing: instrument ensembles and actively teaching parts on the fly--- trying to incorporate paperless, intuitive music. It requires paying attention to the choirmaster, who does a wonderful job of conveying instructions in the course of the song and is a deep reservoir of energy; the students from the Institute of Sacred Music modeled for us how to proceed. The instruments were cello, piano, djembe, and clarinet in an acoustically impressive room...and the music was pulled from many places…Argentina and Portugal, Africa, African-American spiritual, the “mainline” seasonal standards…
There was one hymn that I could not sing, however, because the words evoked the fact that to attend Yale I would be leaving the geographical proximity of St. Brigid’s Community and St. Augustine's Parish. The hymn is “The Parting Hand” and it so expressed the sentiments I feel that I choked up whenever I tried to join the singing.
If you have never heard the song before, I found a video of a choir performing it. It may be helpful to get a sense of the hymn, which strikes me as Appalachian:
My Christian friends in bonds of love,
If you'd like another idea of what the music at chapel sounds like, see this video (click here).
Whose hearts in sweetest union join,
You friendship's like a drawing band,
Yet we must take the parting hand.
Your comp'ny's sweet, your union dear;
Your words delightful to my ear,
Yet when I see that we must part,
You draw like cords around my heart.
How sweet the hours have passed away
Since we have met to sing and pray.
How loathe we are to leave the place
Where Jesus shows His smiling face.
O could I stay with friends so kind,
How would it cheer my drooping mind!
But duty makes me understand
That we must take the parting hand.
And since it is God's holy will,
We must be parted for a while.
In sweet submission, all as one,
We'll say, our Father's will be done.
My youthful friends, in Christian ties,
Who seek for mansions in the skies,
Fight on, we'll gain that happy shore,
Where parting will be known no more.
How oft I've seen your flowing tears,
And heard you tell your hopes and fears!
Your hearts with love were seen to flame,
Which makes me hope we'll meet again.
Ye mourning souls, lift up your eyes
To glorious mansions in the skies;
O trust His grace -- in Canaan's land
We'll no more take the parting hand.
And now, my friends, both old and young,
I hope in Christ you'll still go on;
And if on earth we meet no more,
O may we meet on Canaan's shore.
I hope you'll all remember me
If you on earth no more I see;
An interest in your prayers I crave,
That we may meet beyond the grave.
O glorious day! O blessed hope!
My soul leaps forward at the thought
When, on that happy, happy land,
We'll no more take the parting hand.
But with our blessed holy Lord
We'll shout and sing with one accord,
And there we'll all with Jesus dwell,
So, loving Christians, fare you well.
The seating arrangements for the ecumenical worship tended to change configuration, but always faced the center, either in square or circle (Episcopal Eucharist maintained a center aisle focused on the altar at the front). There was great poignancy and a sacramental nature to the worship, even if it didn’t seem to be intentionally so. To officially welcome all of the new students on Thursday, the service began with a song, and then a young woman came to the center. She poured a large pitcher of water into a basin, lifting the pitcher as she poured to allow all to see the gesture. As she offered a prayer, and invoked the Holy Spirit, she dipped her hand in the water and flung it over us all who were sitting in the circle, never breaking the recitation of her prayer. I crossed myself when the water hit. It didn’t matter whether or not she was ordained, the community had done its work in blessing the water; it counts.
The sermon that day was offered by a professor in Yale’s philosophy department.
Berkeley Divinity School
6pm on Wednesday is when Berkeley seminary holds Eucharist in Marquand, and this particular service was interrupted at crucial points so that explanation of the liturgy was offered for those who were joining an Episcopal service for the first time. The lectors noted that the short explanations in no way covered the breadth of meaning that can be found in the liturgy, nor were they meant to be totally definitive, but attempted to offer some general comments on what was going on. I very quickly caught on to some of the small differences in custom.
One of the already clear signs of Yale’s friendliness toward the LGBTQA community was that the homilist for the service, a senior, opened his sermon with a recounting of his coming out to his family. He was elaborating on the story of the disciples knowing Jesus in the breaking of the bread. It is frequently over meals in which we get to know people, particularly family. And so, when he came out, he knew where he had to do it, for it was where such important announcements were made… his grandmother’s dinner table. One of his other points in the sermon is to note the imperative to welcome all, for many have unknowingly welcomed Christ in such a way (he also invoked the Rule of Benedict here!).
After the service, the Episcopal students walked down the hill to the Berkeley house, which is where a few students have volunteered to live to practice hospitality; it also holds the seminary’s own chapel and is the dean’s residence. We had dinner in conversation; mostly introductions. The greatest part was the reminder it gave me of services at St. Brigid’s on Thursdays…children running around, a common meal, beer and wine, great conversation…
Berkeley students gather every weekday morning for Morning Prayer and Eucharist, which is how the seminary maintains the Anglican “mother tongue” in the midst of the wonderful ecumenical opportunities. Berkeley students also follow a rule of life that was recently adopted on the Feast of St. Luke. I plan on adopting it as my own, in addition to the one I have been working on for some time now.
Furthermore, there are opportunities to visit monasteries for retreat, including Holy Cross in New York and a trip to Canterbury in England (paid for by the school).
ELM
Part of my discernment process is now to find out what my vocation will be as priest. I’ve expressed interest in campus ministry, but little did I know that Yale has just started what is probably the only Episcopal seminary program dedicated to preparing seminarians for ministry in educational settings (all sorts of settings, from administration to all grades, secular to religious). I was walking back to YDS from Morning Prayer when I met up with the priest who is heading up the project. He has taught in schools for about 40 years before his “retirement.” (Yale really wanted him to start this project. He told them no, twice. Then Yale invited him to come for a “consultation.” He came, and then decided to stay for one year; I think he’s beginning his third year.) I told him a little of my story and about how part of my discernment was realizing that my best and most rewarding work as a teacher came from the moments in the hallway---in conversations with students about their lives and problems. He looked at me.
“If you have already realized that, then you were born to teach.” Ah, the discernment process begins anew.
He relies on case studies in his teaching. One of the examples of assignments he gives is that one must write a eulogy for a teenager who, after drinking, falls off of a balcony. And then deliver the eulogy. It doesn’t get much more real than that. While I am less worried about the academic, theoretical side of things, this kind of work is daunting.
There is more to be said, but I hope that these glimpses show why I am eager to attend YDS.
