New Testament Greek is particularly vivid, I find. This is going to be a bit weird, but I’m going to put my exact, word-for-word translation here, not smoothed out into reasonable English. Your brain may stumble on it, because Greek word order is very different from English. The way the writer organized things in the sentences puts emphasis on different things. It may make you see something you hadn’t seen before, or be reminded of something you hadn’t thought of in a long time. It might just make you go, “Huh?” (Bear in mind that this is by no means a definitive translation. It’s just me wallowing in Greek.)

“For that very reason [what very reason? read the end of chapter 11] therefore also we, so great having surrounding us a cloud of witnesses, every weight/hindrance putting off/getting rid of and the easily entangling sin, by/with endurance we should run the set/lying before us race/athletic contest, looking with undivided attention at the one [who is] of the faith a founder/originator and perfecter Jesus, who against/for the sake of the set/lying before him joy endured a cross of shame/disgrace despising/disregarding [either endured a cross of shame, despising it, or endured a cross, despising the shame], and on the right hand of the throne of God he has sat down. For consider attentively the one [who] so much having endured from the sinners against himself denial/hostility, so that not you may be weary/discouraged in your souls, being exhausted/giving up/losing heart.”

The end of this especially stood out to me. We *do* become weary and discouraged in our souls. But rather than giving up, we should look attentively at Jesus [that word indicates turning your eyes away from all else, thus fixing them on something in particular], who is the founder, the originator, the forerunner, the one who went through everything first, who endured the hostility [this word indicates the verbal attacks] of sinners and the utterly degrading shame of the cross. He was there first. He has already suffered what we suffer when we grow weary and discouraged. And He won out and took His rightful place of honor, where He is always interceding for us, His brothers, His fellow-heirs.

I adore Hebrews so much.

Here’s the Greek, if you’re interested:

Τοιγαροῦν καὶ ἡμεῖς, τοσοῦτον ἔχοντες περικείμενον ἡμῖν νέφος μαρτύρων, ὄγκον ἀποθέμενοι πάντα καὶ τὴν εὐπερίστατον ἁμαρτίαν, δι’ ὑπομονῆς τρέχωμεν τὸν προκείμενον ἡμῖν ἀγῶνα, 2 ἀφορῶντες εἰς τὸν τῆς πίστεως ἀρχηγὸν καὶ τελειωτὴν Ἰησοῦν, ὃς ἀντὶ τῆς προκειμένης αὐτῷ χαρᾶς ὑπέμεινεν σταυρὸν αἰσχύνης καταφρονήσας, ἐν δεξιᾷ τε τοῦ θρόνου τοῦ θεοῦ κεκάθικεν.

3 Ἀναλογίσασθε γὰρ τὸν τοιαύτην ὑπομεμενηκότα ὑπὸ τῶν ἁμαρτωλῶν εἰς ἑαυτοὺς ἀντιλογίαν, ἵνα μὴ κάμητε ταῖς ψυχαῖς ὑμῶν ἐκλυόμενοι.

At Missionary Training and Renewal, I met several different people who had some connection to the school I will be teaching at in Belgium, Continental Theological Seminary, so I got several different perspectives on it. One woman on the Europe leadership team had worked there for years some time ago and told me a lot of the practical things I wanted to know, like what the physical structure of the school is like (it is in an old chateau which was constructed out of the horse stables belonging to an ancient castle…). I had a lot of questions answered that people are always asking and I have no idea about since I have never been there. (Alas, I have no pictures that I have permission to use. But you can go here and see pictures for yourself.)

With Paul and Angela Trementozzi (on left) and Joseph Dimitrov (on right).

On the very last day, at the commissioning service, I got to meet two presidents of CTS. The last president, Roland Dudley, is now teaching at Trinity Bible College, my own alma mater, and I got to be introduced to him in passing there. The current president, Dr. Joseph Dimitrov, was also there. Dr. Dimitrov is Bulgarian and is the first non-American president of CTS. I’ve talked to him on Skype once, but I actually met him properly, and he prayed for me during the prayer service at the end.

But my first meeting was with Terry Hoggard, CTS’s Director of Development, and it answered my most important question: What on earth do you want me for? I have caught myself wondering, What have I got that someone else can’t provide for you? Am I really going to do something indispensable? Am I worth people supporting me when they could be supporting orphans in Africa?

Without knowing any of that, Terry told me about CTS’s goals for the future, and those goals are something I can contribute meaningfully to. The European model of theological education is totally academic and intellectual. Now, I adore the academic and intellectual, as anyone who knows me knows. But, he said, they need to learn how to integrate the intellectual with the spiritual. European students don’t expect their spiritual life to be enlivened by their theological education. The CTS leadership is making a concerted effort to move in the direction of community and spiritual life. Forty students were filled with the Spirit there last year! That’s nearly half the student body.

Davidson Hall at Trinity Bible College, my first dorm, now being refurbished for an academic building. Picture by Alyse Erbele.

Ever since I was at Trinity Bible College (I graduated in 2003), I have longed to help students make that connection. When you go to Bible college, you’re often warned to take extra great careful care for your spiritual life, because being in theological classes all the time can kill it. (Never mind that if you don’t take extra great careful care for your spiritual life, anything will kill it.) But I found the exact opposite to be the case. My spiritual life was enlivened and expanded by being at Bible college and in theology and missiology and Greek classes. When I learned something about, say, God’s purposes behind the sacrificial structure established in the Pentateuch in an Old Testament class, or about how Francis of Assisi became a Christian in a Christian history class, or about particular strategies for reaching a particular people group in a missions class, or about the significance behind Paul’s use of a participle in a particular passage in a Greek class…my mind expanded and with it my heart and my excitement about what God does and my enjoyment of who He is. Oh, I loved it.

That’s the teacher I want to be, not just one who says, “This is what a participle is,” but one who shows why the participle is important to the structure of Paul’s sentence and the overall goal of what he is trying to teach about God and the church. Or not just one who teaches the dates that Francis of Assisi lived and the structures he established in the Catholic Church, but one who can show how his life was transformed, how God used him to transform aspects of the Church of his era, how similar that is to what God did through John Wesley, how similar that is to what God wants to and can do in the Church in Europe…

CTS needs me. Isn’t that crazy? I need CTS, because I don’t have much teaching experience, and being there will give it to me. But they need me, too, because I have a perspective they are deeply wanting, and the very thing I have wanted to contribute to any school I am in is the very thing they want from me. Why, yes, I am actually worth people supporting. Because I’m called by God, for one thing, and because I’m going to go do something rather special He’s laid out for me.

Dearest Trinity Bible College, you were one of the best things that ever happened to me, but you sadly deceived me about itineration. I was led to expect it to be one of the worst things that could ever happen to a poor, innocent little missionary, and instead I’m having the greatest time ever.

Sunset near Havre, MT

First of all, I get to travel all over Montana. I’ve lived here nearly my whole life, but I never fully realized how extraordinarily beautiful so much of it is. I drove the most breathtaking road in a blizzard along a narrow, long lake between Eureka and Troy (click small pictures for the larger version):

I drove under a sky between Roundup and Billings that made me realize why it’s called Big Sky Country.

Big Sky Country

I encountered all kinds of interesting buildings in all kinds of unexpected places.

I could upload a thousand more pictures. But what a magnificent time I’ve had driving.

Speaking at the missions banquet at my church in Missoula

And then, second of all, I get to do public speaking. Preaching, even.

Erm…shouldn’t I hate that? I’m supposed to hate that. I’m an introvert. Stereotypically, I should not like speaking in front of groups of people. But I love it.

I’m a good speaker. I can craft a good speech/sermon/presentation/message because I’m a good writer, and I’ve done enough acting that getting up in front of people has become easy. I know how to tailor my message to age groups, different group sizes, and the length required by any given church service, and I still love what I’m talking about. I tell people my story, quite honestly and transparently, and they love it. I bring them encouragement, inspiration, and a perspective that, quite frankly, most people have never considered. And of course I talk about missions in Europe, and most people have not thought much about that, either.

Third of all, I meet people. Honestly, that’s one of my least favorite parts. It’s one of the most difficult parts. I find it a trifle uncomfortable to meet new people and try to think up things to say to them. Someone is sure to monopolize me with a story about her hip surgery or what his nephew is studying at the University of Montana, and there is always a woman who asks how old I am and is shocked by the answer and always a man who says “It’s all Greek to me.”

My name in Gallifreyan. Yes, that’s a language.

But at the same time, some of my favorite memories are of people I have met. A young man in Cut Bank gave me my name in Gallifreyan (the language of the Time Lords in Doctor Who). A mother and daughter in Havre had truly lovely discussions about missions and literature with me. I went exploring antique stores in Laurel with a woman who, with her husband, opened their house to me for four nights. An old man in Thompson Falls who looked like Peter O’Toole flirted with me and gave me $1000, just because he could (I would have flirted back, but my flirting needs work; I’m not a flirter).

In between, I get a few days at home, in my own comfy bed, with my own washing machine and my own kitchen and my lovely bicycle, and I don’t have to do anything except paperwork, try to schedule more services, write thank-you notes, study Greek, read books, and write them. The traveling, speaking, meeting people, and conversation-making-with-strangers can get very tiring, but the days in between more than make up for it.

Three months in, itineration is grand.

It was in Anaconda, Montana, a long, narrow town with which I have quite a few pleasant associations. My aunt and uncle used to live there, and they were always marvelous to visit. The AG church is pastored by a man who knows my grandparents and a dozen or so of my relatives, because he used to pastor my grandparents’ church and had all kinds of stories about my grandfather’s absurdities, because my grandfather was delightfully absurd. I also used to live in a house this pastor used to live in, which is just randomer and randomer.

It was a little church in a little town, and I love little churches in little towns. I grew up with them, and they feel so familiar and comfortable to go into. It being a Wednesday night just after the holidays, there were only ten or fifteen people there, but really, for my first service, that was a perfect number. I like small groups. They’re cozy. Also the ten or fifteen people who come to a Wednesday night missions service just after the holidays are going to be the ten or fifteen people who are the backbone of the church.

Missions table: international teacups, Greek study books, and Greek translation journal

I set up a little table, and it was beautiful. Until I had my multicultural teas back in November, I wasn’t sure what I would do for a missions table at services, because I’ve never been to Belgium, so I haven’t accumulated any neat Belgian things, and also I’m not really going to Belgium, as Belgium. I’m going to a multicultural setting. But the teas made me realize that I have loads of lovely items that represent a multitude of cultures: teapots and teacups. Also since I’m going as a Greek professor, I can use the large number of Greek study texts I own, including the beautiful leather journals of my own translations. I used a sari as a tablecloth, set out my most international teapots and foreign teacups, and neatly arranged a few books on it, and it was as representative of me and my ministry as you could wish.

There was a lovely, potluck sort of meal, and afterward I spoke for half an hour or forty-five minutes. I told them about what I’ll be doing in Belgium, how I was called into missions, and gave a mini-sermon on Peter and Paul and how God changed their lives but also used the talents and personalities He’d given them. They were a lovely audience. They laughed frequently.

We had a short hang-around-and-chat time afterward, and I went home with a remarkably generous contribution to my cash budget. Tiny church, great generosity. I left very encouraged.