Beginning with the different formation paths of Peter and Paul, this article considers credentials and spiritual life, seminary and church, knowledge and ministry, and the calling behind theological study.
By Muchangke
By Muchangke (Paul Zhang)
A few days ago, I wrote an article titled How Can You Come to the United States to Study Theology?
My original intention was simply to organize some of my experiences, observations, and practical information from over the years as a reference for those who are considering theological training. But after the article was published, the comments raised another question that is well worth discussing:
If a person wants to serve God, does he or she need to study theology?
One reader said, "I like pastors who have faith but also understand real life. When I was a student, I met some pastors whom I regarded as teachers. I felt they had plenty of principles to teach, but not much practical guidance."
Another said, "I know seminary graduates and ministers whose personal lives of faith do not seem to radiate the Father's light."
Another reader asked even more directly: "Why should a poor pastor spend so much money and make such a sacrifice to study theology in the United States? Is it for the title and prestige? To escape the present environment? Most study abroad in Europe and America is tied to economic investment... As for academic training, that is simply an academic career path---a way to make a living within Christianity."
I read these comments carefully.
I do not really think these questions are "against theology." On the contrary, they raise several issues that have existed in Christian communities for a long time and deserve serious thought:
What is the relationship between academic credentials and spiritual life? Between seminary and the church? Between knowledge and ministry? And between calling and the path a person chooses?
So today I do not want to talk about "how to come to the United States to study theology." I want to talk about one thing: Why study theology?
Or, more precisely: What does it actually mean to study theology?
This is the first thing I want to make clear.
If someone asks me, "Do I have to attend seminary in order to become a good minister?"
My answer is: Of course not.
If a seminary diploma were a prerequisite for serving God, Peter would probably have been disqualified from the beginning.
Peter was originally a fisherman from Galilee.
Acts 4 tells us that when the members of the council saw the boldness of Peter and John and realized that they were "unlearned and ignorant men," they marveled. But the next statement is extremely important: "they took knowledge of them, that they had been with Jesus."
That was another kind of education.
Peter never sat in what we would later call a seminary classroom, but he followed Jesus for more than three years.
He listened to Jesus preach. He watched Jesus heal. He saw how Jesus dealt with crowds and how He handled disputes among His disciples. He witnessed the feeding of the five thousand and experienced storms at sea. He failed, denied the Lord three times, and then saw the risen Christ with his own eyes.
This was classic apprenticeship.
It was not simply taking a course in a classroom. It was living alongside a teacher.
You watch how your teacher prays.
You follow how your teacher serves.
You experience how your teacher faces suffering.
And finally, the teacher entrusts the mission to you:
"Follow me."
So throughout Christian history, formal academic education has never been the only path.
However, if we therefore reach another conclusion---"Peter never attended seminary, so theological education is unnecessary"---we have simply gone to the opposite extreme.
In fact, Scripture itself already shows us forms of organized spiritual training.
In Samuel's time, a company of prophets gathered at Naioth in Ramah, with Samuel standing among them as their leader (1 Samuel 19).
By the time of Elijah and Elisha, we repeatedly encounter groups known as the "sons of the prophets."
They lived together and received instruction together. When their numbers grew and their living quarters became too small, they went together to the Jordan to cut timber and build a larger place. It was there that an axe head fell into the water and Elisha caused the sunken iron to float (2 Kings 6).
Of course, we should not simply equate these communities with modern seminaries.
But they do show us at least this much: organized training for ministry, carried on within a tradition and under the guidance of teachers, is not a modern invention.
Scripture itself contains two important patterns of formation:
One is apprenticeship---learning by following a teacher.
The other is a more systematic form of learning and communal training.
The same is true today.
Some people may be best trained by spending ten or twenty years alongside a mature pastor in the local church, learning little by little through visitation, preaching, prayer, leadership, and pastoral care.
Others may need to enter seminary and systematically study Scripture, theology, church history, Greek, Hebrew, missiology, hermeneutics, ethics, and pastoral ministry.
There is no need for these two paths to deny each other.
One fascinating contrast in the New Testament is the difference between Peter and Paul.
Peter came from a fishing background.
Most of his formation came through following Jesus.
Paul was very different.
He said that he was "brought up in this city at the feet of Gamaliel, and taught according to the perfect manner of the law of the fathers" (Acts 22:3).
In other words, Paul was an intellectual who had received rigorous training by the standards of his time.
He knew the Old Testament. He knew Jewish tradition. He was also able to enter the Greco-Roman world and engage people from different cultures.
Later, on the road to Damascus, he encountered the risen Christ and received his calling. He also went into Arabia and passed through a period in which his life and understanding were being reordered.
So we see two men:
One was a fisherman.
The other was a scholar.
One grew primarily by following a master.
The other had received highly systematic training.
One later lived mainly through gospel ministry.
The other often worked with his own hands, even making tents.
Paul himself said that his own hands had provided for his needs and for those who were with him.
And yet here is the fascinating thing: God used both of them.
Scripture never tells us that there is only one model for a minister.
God does not run an assembly line.
He does not shape every person into exactly the same form.
One reader commented, "Graduating from seminary does not mean that a person has a good spiritual life."
I completely agree.
Studying theology does not automatically mean spiritual maturity.
Having a doctoral degree does not mean loving the Lord more.
Knowing Greek does not mean knowing how to love people better.
Being able to explain predestination does not mean having greater patience.
Being able to teach the Trinity does not guarantee a healthy marriage.
Being able to write a twenty-page paper does not mean knowing when to remain silent in the presence of someone who is weak and hurting.
Theological knowledge cannot replace spiritual life.
But the reverse is also true: spiritual enthusiasm cannot replace necessary preparation.
A person may deeply love the Lord and still not automatically know how to interpret Scripture correctly.
A person may be passionate and still mistake personal experience for truth.
A person may be excellent at sharing testimonies and still interpret a verse apart from its context.
That is why I often think academic credentials cannot prove everything about a person, but they can provide an initial point of reference.
Suppose a complete stranger comes into a church and says:
"I am a minister."
We do not yet know his life, family, character, or ministry.
How do we begin to understand who he is?
Where was he trained?
Who taught him?
What is his theological tradition?
What has he studied?
What ministry experience does he have?
These questions can help us make an initial assessment.
That is why I often say:
Academic credentials do not equal ability, but they can often serve as a
door opener.
A diploma does not equal spiritual life, but it does at least indicate
that a person has undergone some form of systematic training.
Of course, that is only the beginning, not the conclusion.
In the end, what truly demonstrates who a person is will never be the diploma hanging on the wall, but the fruit that his or her life bears over the decades.
There is really nothing surprising about this.
A school can train the mind, but it cannot obey God on someone's behalf.
A seminary can require you to study Romans, but it cannot force you to live out Romans.
A professor can teach the theology of the cross, but cannot carry your cross for you.
A professor can explain humility, but cannot make you lay down your pride in the middle of a conflict.
Seminary provides an environment, knowledge, teachers, traditions, training, and resources.
How a person responds to all of that is another matter.
Jesus personally trained twelve disciples.
And yet among those twelve, was there not a Judas?
Would we therefore say:
"Jesus' discipleship training did not work"?
Of course not.
So when we see several seminary graduates whose lives are unhealthy and conclude that theological education has no value, the logic does not hold.
Likewise, seeing one person who never formally studied theology serve with great effectiveness does not prove that no one needs systematic training.
Individual cases cannot replace sound principles.
This may be the most practical question raised in the comments.
Especially: "Why does it have to be in the United States?"
My answer is still: It does not.
Theological education does not exist only in America.
Today there are many forms of theological training in China, Asia, Europe, North America, and elsewhere. There are also online courses, church-based theological education, mentoring systems, short-term programs, and many platforms for cross-cultural learning.
If someone already has an excellent mentor, thorough training, and a clear ministry path within his or her own church, there is absolutely no need to spend money that person cannot afford simply for the sake of "studying abroad."
Nor is there any need to turn "an American seminary" into a form of spiritual branding.
If studying theology is merely about adding another title, I do not think it means very much.
If the goal is simply to have people call you "Doctor," the cost may be far too high.
But for some people, overseas theological education genuinely has a particular significance.
For example:
A person may be called to cross-cultural ministry.
He may need exposure to different church traditions.
He may need to learn another language.
He may be preparing for future academic research.
He may be called to train the next generation of ministers.
He may need to understand the global church.
Or perhaps God uses a season away from familiar surroundings to broaden his vision and prune his life.
For that person, those years are not merely about "getting a degree."
They may be part of his life's calling and mission.
I increasingly believe that we should not turn this issue into two opposing camps.
One side says, "You need theological education to be professional."
The other says, "Truly spiritual people do not need theology at all."
Both statements are too simplistic.
The real questions are:
Where has God placed you?
What gifts has He given you?
What mission is He preparing you to carry?
What preparation do you still lack for that mission?
If you are called to be a faithful Christian businessperson, then running your business responsibly, dealing honestly with people, caring for employees, and living out the gospel in the marketplace may be your field of ministry.
If you are called to pastor a church over the long term, systematic preparation in Scripture, theology, pastoral ministry, and church history may be extremely important.
If you are called to cross-cultural missions, you may need to study language, anthropology, and culture.
If you are called to theological research or seminary education, master's and doctoral degrees and years of academic training may well be unavoidable.
Different missions require different forms of preparation.
Not everyone needs the same pair of shoes, because God has not asked everyone to walk the same road.
There is one more thing I want to say.
When we talk about "studying theology," we must not reduce theology to a collection of abstract ideas.
The word "theology" itself is concerned with the knowledge of God.
True theology should not make a person increasingly proud, but increasingly reverent.
It should not merely make a person better at arguing, but more aware of his own limitations.
It should not simply add information to the mind, but help a person know God more accurately, interpret Scripture more faithfully, and serve others more humbly.
If someone becomes more arrogant the more theology he studies, the problem is not that his theology is too deep. It is that his life has not kept pace with what he is learning.
But if someone refuses serious study because he is afraid that "knowledge puffeth up," that is not humility either.
True humility says:
I know I am limited, so I am willing to learn.
I know I may be wrong, so I am willing to be corrected.
I know Scripture is precious, so I dare not interpret it carelessly.
I know the responsibility of ministry is great, so I am willing to
prepare myself for the mission.
If you ask me:
"Pastor Zhang, should I study theology?"
I probably would not immediately answer, "Yes."
Nor would I immediately answer, "No."
I would first ask you one question:
Are you clear about the calling God has given you?
Because what ultimately determines the path a person should take ought not to be academic credentials, trends, or what other people think.
You should not pursue a doctorate simply because someone else is doing one.
You should not decide that you need no theological training simply because someone else serves effectively without it.
And you should not travel thousands of miles to the United States merely because an American seminary sounds impressive.
The real question is: What has God entrusted to you?
If He asks you to stay, then stay faithfully.
If He asks you to go, then go courageously.
If He asks you to work, then work well.
If He calls you into full-time ministry, then serve faithfully.
If He asks you to sit in a classroom for five years, then study diligently.
If He asks you to follow an older pastor for ten years, then follow humbly.
What matters most in life is not copying someone else's path, but completing the path God has entrusted to you.
So when it comes to studying theology, I return to this:
Academic credentials are not a calling, and seminary is not the goal.
What matters is first hearing the call clearly, and then preparing
yourself for that call.
Whether you study theology or not;
whether you remain in China or come to the United States;
whether your formation is academic or apprenticeship-based;
whether you serve full-time or while holding another job---
if that is the road God has entrusted to you,
walk it faithfully.
Because one day, the question for which we will truly give an account before Him will not be:
"What degree did you earn?"
But rather:
"What I entrusted to you---were you faithful?"
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