Woodworking and the Training of Ministers

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As a denomination, United Methodists can boast some of the highest academic standards. As a result we have some of the best trained clergy of any faith. Ours is an old method with a longstanding and fruitful tradition.


In spite of this, however, many are asking if it is necessarily the best way or, perhaps, even the only way. Could there be another aspect of training and education which we are missing or even forgotten? I ask this question for two reasons.

First of all, in my role as a campus minister it is increasingly revealed to me that our current academic method of training and pastoral education seems to be leaving more and more young people behind. It seems as if the one size fits all program we use no longer fits the culture in which our young adults are living never mind the young adults it produces. I think we can all point to a young person in our present or past who, although they possess the requisite intelligence and curiosity for the calling, seem to flounder under the traditional demands of the academy.

Secondly, being myself now nearly ten years removed from seminary and almost fourteen years removed from college, I can honestly understand both the success and failings of that process. Looking back, I can say without hesitation that I was exposed to a great amount of information during those years. Having reached the requisite number of course credits, the conference in its wisdom – or lack thereof – approved me to be a minister. This approval came, after a brief, yet thorough, interview by Fred Dearing and Mickey Rainwater. They quizzed me on all the minutia of all things animal, vegetable, mineral and Methodist. I had passed the test. I knew all the right things. Again though, when I look back I have to wonder if I was truly educated enough (yes, I know you are asking that too). If you are honest you might be asking the same thing about yourself. As a matter of fact, were any of us truly educated at that point? Is it possible that you can earn an M.Div. and still not be quite ready for primetime?

According to Brian A. Williams, author of The Potter’s Rib, it is definitely possible and we do it all of the time. Williams explains the distinction between science and sapience. In a nutshell, science or scientia is simply a body of knowledge that one acquires. This, according to Williams, is what seminary and college are really good at.

Simply having knowledge is good but it has its drawbacks. As Williams says,

“Scientia threatens to construct a system of propositions in order to explain the world and manage it. It lays a high stress on specialized skills of analysis, sophistication about methods of exegesis, and strategies for management and achieving results.” (Williams, The Potter’s Rib, 47)

In essence, it is a casuistry which seeks to conform rather than transform. This is not to say that knowledge is in and of itself bad. Rather, what Williams wants us to understand is that knowledge should serve and end and not be one in itself.

Contrast this with the idea of sapience and we arrive at something which resonates more closely with the vision of the Gospel, and the desire of the young adults whom the church desires to reach. In fact, vision is exactly what sapience is interested in. Specifically, it is interested in the totality of God’s vision for the world and the individual. It is, as Williams says, interested in speaking words of creation into the entirety of someone else’s life.

This sounds great but it is really hard to quantify. I mean, it is much easier for the conference office to keep track of how many credit hours a seminarian has than to document whether or not the love of God was shed abroad in her heart.” Regardless of the difficulties, I believe that this is something we must pursue, if not for our own good, then for the sake of those who are following after us.

The good news is that we do not even have to develop a new model for this. No committees, no councils need be involved. We simply have to take back up what we have laid aside. Taking a lesson from carpenters and woodworkers who pass along their wisdom from one generation to the next would not hurt either. Craftsmen of this sort do their teaching in the form of apprenticeships. It may be the very thing we have forgotten.

Now, within woodworking circles there are some pretty big names. One of the biggest is Tag (Tay) Frid. As a very young person in his native Denmark, Frid became an apprentice to a master carpenter because, as he shares, he was not the most outstanding student in school. (Tag Frid, Tag Frid Teaches Woodworking: Book 1, Joinery, 2)

As an apprentice Frid quite literally lived in shop, He signed on for a five year contract which he points out was binding on both parties. In other words, the craftsman was as responsible to him as he was to the master woodworker. Expectations were high and his time was divided between the shop and the school. In the end, this not so good student went on to become a master in his own right, teaching at some of the most prestigious professional carpentry schools in the United States.

It is important to note that someone like Frid who possessed great Technical knowledge always placed that knowledge at the disposal of his students. His goal was to do his best and teach people to be their best.

Another big name in woodworking belongs to Roy Underhill. Underhill has made a career out of doing things the hard way. Never mind that he can cut dove tails in the time it would take most of us to set up a router.

Like Frid, Underhill is a wealth of practical knowledge on “how to”. If you read his book or watch his show, though, you begin to realize that what he really wants is to effect who his students are at the personal level. His goal is to change the way you think about yourself and the world around you. In other words, he wants you to be confident in yourself and in your abilities.

For master craftsmen like Frid and Underhill, the point and purpose of an education is to teach you to be present in the moment, knowing and aware of where you are and what you are doing. It is a wisdom that sharp tools seem to bring about in people.

I think it is safe to say that Underhill believes this wisdom is best taught through relationship. It is a relationship between the master and apprentice in the midst of a shared labor. I believe that in this is the key of something we used to do naturally but have somehow lost sight of. Yes, we have mentoring relationships, but they seem to be of a purely administrative nature. “Sign this, answer this, OK see you next week.”

So, what would this look like in practice - this apprenticeship for ministry? I cannot say for sure but you know it when you see it. Other than that, the only thing I can do is give you an image from my family. I have a brother-in-law named Tom. Tom is a master carpenter of his own right. He can show up on site and build you a fine house without really even needing any plans. As with any master craftsman, his knowledge of the trade is so vast and intimate that it manifests itself in an intuitive kind of work. I am amazed whenever I see him cut an angle on a board, freehanded using nothing but his circular saw and faith.

So, how did Tom get to this point? Well, he started early for one thing. As a youth he started going to job sites with his dad and uncle who were also masters of their craft. He learned his trade and its values while carrying wood and shoveling dirt. He became a master of the hammer, saw and square. As he showed himself trustworthy and competent in one thing he would be moved on to the next.

The thing you notice about people like Tom and craftsmen of this sort is that they always have a story. If you ask them about their craft they do not seem to spend a lot of their time in the specifics. It seems as if everything they know, everything that matters, is tied to a story of a day or an event that taught them some great and intangible wisdom about themselves and their trade. Hang around the masters of any trade long enough and you will get a ton of stories. Of course, you know who else tends to do this too - pastors. If you do not believe me, take Randy Martin out to lunch. He prefers Longhorn.

All of these aspects of the master / apprentice relationship point toward something I think we intuitively do in our moments of best practice. It is the way Jesus taught his disciples and it is the way the Wesleyan Class meeting works. It is wisdom, brought forth in relationship, which gives life to the concrete knowledge of the seminary. Somehow we have either forgotten it or become ashamed of it. I am not sure which.

If we will take a lesson from the woodworkers - instead of the Harvard Business school - and see ourselves as artisans for a change we might be able to help more young people who we might normally miss.

So what are we to do? Once again, I do not truly know. All I can say is this. I think that I will be spending more time shaping people instead of worrying about producing results – numbers and statistics. After all, results only end up in old copies of the conference journal. People end up in the Kingdom.