Unexpected Joys

I thought for sure I had failed Greek. One of the core parts that make an MDIV degree different from other master’s degrees at seminary are the languages and I was failing Greek. To be clear, I got a 35 on my final. How in the world could I possibly pass?

For months I had been struggling through what was easily the hardest class I had ever taken. Not only that, this is the Elementary level. Greek 101, if you will. This is the groundwork class one takes in order to take the Greek classes that are actually required for the MDIV degree. I was doing the work, and it was kicking my tail.

Failing Greek is not something I was taking well, either. Being such a core part of the MDIV degree and given my aspirations to be an elder in the church, I started to doubt my call. How could I be a minister of the Gospel if I can’t pass elementary Greek?

I had been miserable to be around this whole semester as I don’t deal well with academic struggles. I had a 4.0. This was going to kill my GPA. My wife was eagerly looking forward to the day when this class was over, whether I passed or not. She wanted me to be done so that things could get back to normal.

I had even gone through some semblance of the stages of grief. Assuming that I had failed, I was angry. I tried to figure out why I did so poorly and blamed timing and circumstances in life. Then I moved on to sorrow. Finally I made peace with it, resolving to take it again and do far better.

I got an email this morning. Given previous test scores and my scores for quiz work throughout the semester I had earned a C. I was incredulous.

I passed. 

What was my reaction? I laughed.

Then I told everyone I had been whining to I had passed.

Then I laughed some more.

I was convinced I had failed this class. Not only was I convinced that I had failed it, but that I had spectacularly failed. I was wrong.

I had taken a class that was meant to aid me in my study of God’s word and turned it into an idol on the road to ministry. When I thought I had failed and the idol had been smashed I finally had peace. I had time to think and reflect on my performance in the class and my unhealthy reliance on a good grade. My study of God’s word does not depend on my grade in Greek. My goal to be an elder in a local church does not hinge on getting A’s in Greek.

What if I had cruised through Greek with my attitude, though? I would have assumed that my brain was awesome and grasped all these things and thus I would be great as an elder. It feels ridiculous to type that out, but I’m being brutally honest here.

I’m grateful I struggled. I’m grateful I thought I failed. I’m grateful for the painful process of prying the idol of performance in school from my hands. I needed the lesson of working hard to pass with a C in a class I thought I bombed. I needed the reminder that MDIV’s don’t come with GPA’s attached.

My pride needed to be burned down. I needed a swift kick in the rear to quit being so melodramatic over a class. I needed to quit whining.

I learned all those things in the past several weeks as I processed the thought that I had failed. It was God’s good grace that I passed.

Unexpected joy.