Princeton: Memories of a Theological Odyssey
Reflections on my Princeton Decade. Dr.Gary Straub. Meadow@St Matthews Autumn 2018
READ: “Princeton Seminary in American Religion and Culture” by Dr. James Moorhead.
I attended a Bluegrass Concert in Blowing Rock, NC in 2012, carrying Professor Morehead’s 500pp tomb (I meant: tome). 8 yrs later, I finished page 501. Don’t the years just fly by? Kinda like channeling Evelyn Woods’ Speed Reading course in slow-mo.
I often slow—walk my ponderations. It takes longer, yet seems to sync deeper. Most of my major life lessons I learn slowly, after the fact. My preferred learning Time Zone is “later.”
When I arrived on Princeton NJ campus in Summer ‘84, I sensed adventure! The “table set before me,” was free from “the presence of my enemies!” I left them far behind in TN. Nothing ominous about enemies—just the usual bumps/bruises from the ‘roller derby’ of church life. Instead of honing on the hurts, I lifted gratitude that “my cup was running over w/goodness and mercy.” Truly an overflowing—an “anointing with oil.” Landing at Princeton was sheer grace— a merciful match —my deep need —with the Gracious Presence that “follows me all the days of my life.” That summer— I was LIVING Psalm 23!
I knew zero about Princeton except its “Ivy League reputation” which got scorned as “intellectual vanity” by my home church— Lancaster’s Calvary Independent Church. Truly a great church to grow up in, but not a happy place to grow beyond. I got groomed as an FFA candidate (that’s Future Fundamentalists of America), and steered toward scholarships at BIOLA, Moody, and Columbia. (BTW: Wheaton was WAY too liberal!) Calvary’s few Princeton students were damned with faint praise and placed on the prayer list for Wednesday nights. This consignment to the Nether Regions was not exactly a ringing endorsement.
During my freshman year at the highly acclaimed Columbia Bible College, I was shocked by seething anti-intellectualism and the oppressive spirit of beady-eyed legalism which prevailed on campus. Lots of shaming, spying and tattling. My refusal to return to CBC was my first, decisive adult decision: “I’m done here!”
I graduated at Ozark Bible College, in Joplin, MO. Geneva and I married and we drove to Emmanuel School of Religion in Johnson City, TN for grad school. Their vision was way too provincial, so I transferred to Vanderbilt Divinity School; finishing a Masters and Doctorate in pastoral theology/counseling. The next decade, I served as Senior Minister in Chattanooga’s oldest downtown Disciple Church. I was energized and exhausted w/ church turmoil. I felt dried up, yet hungering for the depths of God. My salvation was a monthly Prayer Day at St Mary’s Episcopal Retreat on the back side of Monteagle mountain. I found a deep breath of mountain air, with a deep dive into St Luke’s Seminary library, after an early round of golf, SO refreshing! In addition to Sewanee, I founded a study group of downtown Presbyterian pastors who called themselves the Lollards (i.e. Mumblers of Prayers). We met for encouragement, mutual guidance and prayer. They insisted I enroll in a summer course at Princeton. Princeton made a profound imprint on my soul and heart for ministry.
My first impressions were of leafy green walkways, ivy halls, quiet dorms, lively dining hall conversations, brilliant morning lectures, plus a Vesper Hymn Sing in Miller Chapel. After music, renown preachers brought The Word. Every night touched into my deep hunger for more of God. After worship, on quiet walks to Thomas Sweet Shoppe at dusk with Disciple friends, I found fun, fellowship and companionship in ministry. These people ‘got me’ and I found a home— a deep resting place.
All this was a lot to take in, but ‘take it all in’ I did. During my initial interview for Princeton, I opened up to the Summer School Dean, David Wall, who heard me out, read my resume and offered sage advice: “if you enroll in the ThM program just now, you will qualify for a full scholarship.” His insider academic acumen guided my course of study over the next decade. His friendship offered a soul anchor and insight into the Up East world. For instance: I learned how to leave class in Hodge Hall, hop the Dinky train, grab a cab and be at the doorstep of the NYC Metropolitan Museum by lunchtime. I also learned to crawl out of my introverted shell and strike up conversations with people from other worlds at coffee hour after chapel. Expanding, exhilarating and about as much fun as an introvert can stand!
I took every NT class offered by Dr. Bruce Metzger, Chief Editor of the NRSV Bible. His team of world-class translators met each morning in the Library. We always asked about the topics and he quickly reminded us: he was only the editor, not the Author! Every class was a deep dive into the original text of Scripture. Dr. Metzger hovered over every single word in Scripture like the rabbi’s Yad- the pointer used in reading Torah at synagogue. Unlike the breezy, ‘once-over lightly’ approach of my earlier Bible work, this Word sank deep and found lodging in my soul. At Ozark I was rewarded for memorizing Scripture; but at Princeton the Word’s inspiration ignited a fire of enthusiasm for preaching. This is when I first adapted my line: “Send me in coach, I want to preach!” The Bible practically preached itself as I absorbed every obscurity Metzger quoted and spent afternoons in Speer Library looking up his references and learning more. Eagle food!
Later I soaked up Dr Kathy Sakenfeld’s brilliant OT lectures. She was a fresh Yale PhD in the mold of Bernie “The Word” Anderson, who wrote the definitive OT overview of that era. I found a gracious mentoring friendship. She opened up the resources of campus and gave sage, insider advice. One summer, she and her husband Gunter — the famed Trenton crime scene photographer—visited us in Chattanooga and we hosted them for the night. They ate Golden Grahams, wished us a golden day and tore off to tour Chickamagua Battlefield. A quirky, curious couple whom I loved getting to know.
Dr. William Carl’s “Preaching Bible” class provided example of an intelligent, engaging style I hoped to emulate when I climbed back into the pulpit in September. His integration of the life of the mind and the inspiration of Spirit took deep root in me. I also admired his slow-draw humor, which had a 10 second delay before the laugh line hit the mark. Loved his timing!
One summer, I took a class with Dr Linda Mercandante on “Sexuality, Spirituality and the Feminine,” which was excruciatingly beyond my comfort zone. Only later would I own up to the influence that her disarming open-heartedness provided to help me learn hospitality for young female clergy in Bethany Fellows, a mentoring ministry yet to come in my life. Here I should probably pause to acknowledge the impact of her wisdom on home life, with 2 pre-teen daughters and a career—oriented wife on the APRN track-Advanced Practice RN.
Another summer, Dr. Ed Dowey, my chief academic advisor fell ill and his assistant Dr. Mark Taylor led his History of Christian Doctrine class which required mastering 500 pages of Tillich each night and being prepared to intelligently elucidate in class next morning. I was 10 yrs out of school, so this was a daunting challenge. Only later I learned Taylor’s seminar was stacked with Dowey’s cadre of PhD students who were required to ace his exam before they were allowed to begin their dissertations. I was intimidated by their facile grasp of the obscure philosophical material and their easy articulation of Tillich’s maddeningly vague existential constructs. I studied late into the night while classmates sauntered off to the late movies. My snapback came when a library friend admonished me: “Hey Bubba! You have a doctorate from Vanderbilt! You are no slouch academically, so Man Up!” After my “divine dope slap,” short-term photographic memory kicked in and I was ready for the battle of wits with these intrepid Tillichians. See what I mean about learning most everything ‘a little later?’
Speaking of battles… I later learned… that Washington’s famous Delaware Crossing forged his later decisive victory over the British at the Battle of Princeton. There was also a theological war brewing on Mercer Street, just a block down from Albert Einstein’s home. Again, I had no idea that in the early 20’s, Princeton was “Old School Presbyterian” with nearly all conservative faculty/administration. Most faculty were irenic orthodox scholars—like Hodges and Erdman. However, Warfield and Machen never missed an opportunity to take exception on any and all subjects! I discovered that many of the theological battles waged on the national church scene were first fought in faculty as the seeds of fundamentalism were sown. To fast-forward—orthodox conservative Christianity won the war at Princeton and Warfield/Machen’s crusty contingent fled to Philly to found a fundy Seminary—Westminster. However, the duo never missed an opportunity to lob a grenade over the Delaware at Princeton! I did not know that on the spectrum of seminaries, Princeton was considered ‘conservative.’ More late learning!
Let me add a bit of historical perspective. Looking back to 50 yrs ago, and my 10 year academic gap between Vanderbilt and Princeton… the contrast in learning environments between Vanderbilt and Princeton was striking. Ubiquitous cynicism around prayer/piety/spirituality was manifest during 70’s Vanderbilt. Academics were hard, heavy, highly competitive and cold. It was ‘sink or swim—get it or get out.’ Student snobbery was aimed at religious types (like me) and student emotionality got channeled to social protest efforts—which I found utterly ghastly! I stayed below the radar. In the 80’s when I got to Princeton, I was astonished to meet persons of quiet, thoughtful, respectful devotion. Most students were serving as pastors in the metro area and were prayerful— not at all embarrassed to own up to their deeper spiritual commitments. Only later I learned how Princeton’s founding was subtly steeped in the Keswick influence emanating from English Keswick; with its American version located less than 100 miles away from campus. Early seminarians were quietly schooled/formed in Christian character with accent on perfection and personal holiness. Keswick influence offered spiritual grounding for 200 years of rigorous academics. While I came to honor the integration of head and heart in service of mission, Keswick’s perfectionism got Left Behind.
Finally, I don’t want to leave the impression these summers were ‘all work and no play.’
Each weekend, I returned to Geneva’s family farm in Lancaster County to enjoy family. There was plenty of Heisey and Straub family time. I relished our kid’s farm adventure/baby pig stories, their grandma fun, their experiences of learning how to tend market, and incidents with their rambunctious cousins. Slowly, I learned to navigate NYC with the girls. Our favorite jaunts beyond exploring Princeton Village/Campus, were the NYC street venders, the art museums, and shopping trips around Times Square while I stood in line for the half-price Saturday matinee tickets on Broadway. Such rich, Kodak cultural moments.Add: when Geneva graduated BSN, we celebrated with Summer Study at Oxford, England! Mansfield College.
POSTSCRIPT: on campus, I claimed distinction as the longest matriculating Master of Theology student ever! I graduated in ‘94 with Jessica’s Hutchison Class. SO…. Having now exhausted my personal Princeton history, let’s proceed to Dr. Moorhead’s Princeton history.
