the virginia tradition

I'm grateful to Bill Murray for reminding me that ten years ago, on August first, our new class of seminarians all showed up to Virginia Theological Seminary to start a three year journey toward ordination. (Not the Caddy Shack Bill Murray, but The Reverend Bill Murray.) I don't know what comes to your mind when you think about heading off to seminary (either your memories or imaginations), but here's what's on the top of my mind.

I met some amazing people who I got to know over those three years. We sat around during the day and drank too much coffee, we shared meals organized and impromptu. We challenged one another on our assumptions about church and God and what it means to be priests. We laughed together and played a lot of music sacred and profane: sometimes we played music in chapel, sometimes at a local church, and sometimes in a bar. We found a balance that worked for us then, and helped shaped how we would be priests in the church (with or without musical instruments.)

We also watched The Big Lebowski, and went bowling together. We called those occasions something like "Celebrate Life Day." I think I even smoked a couple of cigarettes in the bowling alley. You could do that then.

We played soccer on the "Trotter Bowl;" sometimes we played ultimate frisbee. We gave each other rides to campus, or walked together up the hill, up to that "Holy Hill."

The curriculum was important. The daily prayer in chapel was important. Studying Scripture, Tradition, and learning Reason was important. What was planned and sanctioned by the church for us to do as people called to be priests in the church was all very important. But the experience of being thrown into that educational setting with faithful (or seeking-to-be-faithful) Episcopalians from across the country, and Anglicans from around the world; to become a community over three years of life together; that was the best part.

There was a circle of benches in front of the library. It was a sacred circle. It probably seemed more profane than anything; it wasn't the library, classroom, or chapel:  it was out in front, literally pro-fane. (out in front of the temple) That's where the best discussions happened. That's where we sometimes practiced playing bluegrass. That's where we disagreed openly and sincerely with one another. That's where we made dinner plans with the same people we disagreed with theologically. That's where we became friends.

Thanks Bill, for that wonderful reminder.