‘Current Affairs’ Category

Boston Not Jerusalem

April 30th, 2013 Posted in 17th Century, 18th Century, 21st Century, Current Affairs, Puritans

By Ryan Patrick Hoselton

The Boston Marathon bombing represents a society that is worlds apart from the Boston inhabited by the Puritan Increase Mather (1639-1723). Abhorrent evils perpetrated in any city—like the Newtown shooting, 9/11, and the Oklahoma City bombing—raise the very human question: why? Each generation has to wrestle with new and complicated manifestations of wrongdoing. Increase Mather had no category for making sense of how two Chechen brothers could plant explosives at a massive annual foot-race. However, perhaps his response to the calamities of Boston in his day could help us gain perspective on the city’s recent catastrophe.

In many ways, modern-day Boston has failed to live up to Mather’s lofty aspirations for the city. Mather, the former minister of the historic Second Church and President of Harvard from 1685-1702, planned for Boston to become the new Jerusalem—God’s holy society on earth. But even in his day, Boston was far from heaven. The seventeenth-century New Englanders intimately knew suffering. The reason many of them came to New England was to flee religious persecution. If they survived the long voyage, they faced the threat of frequent and devastating plagues.

But it was the attacks from the native New England tribes that evoked one of Mather’s fullest reflections on the evil of his times, An Earnest Exhortation to the Inhabitants of New-England (1676).[1] In this treatise, Mather blamed the tragedies on the sins of Boston’s citizens: “What shall we say when men are seen in the Streets with monstrous and horrid Perriwigs, and women with their Borders and False Locks…whereby the anger of the Lord is kindled against this land (9)!” He’s just getting warmed up. He listed Boston’s iniquities and warned that unless the citizens reform their lives, “New-England hath not seen its worst dayes.” For Mather, Boston’s prosperity and its demise was contingent on its righteousness before God. Thus, his solution for eradicating Boston’s suffering was to recruit its citizens to significant moral reform.

Okay, I know what you’re thinking (or should be thinking if you’re not): so far, Mather is not helping us understand evil today! But briefly give him a little grace. As a result of these events, Mather ministered to many hurting people: “Is it nothing that Widdows and Fatherless have been multiplyed among us?” He wanted to see evil and its effects eliminated just as much as those impacted by the Boston Marathon bombings. However, no earthly city could ever be righteous enough to completely evade adversity—all of mankind is fallen. His solution was geographically misguided.

Mather placed his hope in the right city, but he located it in the wrong place. Revelation 21:2-4 describes how the new Jerusalem will come:

And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, ‘Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.’

Boston is not the New Jerusalem—it does not exist on earth. The events from last week’s race testify to the sad reality that evil still afflicts the city four-hundred years later. Ever since Babel, mankind has had the tendency to rely on the kingdoms that we can construct. We like our societies because they reflect us rather than God. However, despite our best efforts, we cannot create the righteous kingdom that will bring us peace.

Mather was right that God will entirely eradicate all evil and its consequences in his new Jerusalem. However, this is not a city that mortals can build.  Instead, we must rest our hopes for peace on the King of the new Jerusalem, Jesus Christ, who will lovingly assemble this city for his people.

[1]Increase Mather, An Earnest Exhortation to the Inhabitants of New-England (Boston: John Foster: 1676). You can access the full text here: http://digitalcommons.unl.edu/etas/31/


Ryan Patrick Hoselton is pursuing a ThM at The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. He lives in Louisville, KY with his wife Jaclyn, and they are expecting their first child in August.


Should Baptists Care About Social Concerns? William Ward Believed So (PART TWO)

April 12th, 2013 Posted in 19th Century, Church History, Current Affairs

By J. Ryan West

As shown yesterday, Ward was concerned deeply to see significant changes regarding social issues in India.  Successful social action would not, however, come without the power of Christ’s gospel according to Ward.  When reading this book, it is highly important to note Ward’s evolution concerning how he addressed injustices.  Otherwise, readers easily misunderstand his position.  In his earlier years, Ward proved to be a radical activist that nearly escaped imprisonment twice.  Political upheaval modeled on the French Revolution was his ideal during the 1790’s.  His conversion and subsequent development over several decades of ministry in India brought about a much different approach to such concerns by the time he preached these sermons.  For the seasoned Ward, lasting social change would only occur if the gospel permeated a society: “Let the females of the United Kingdom speak, and they must be heard…By such an interposition, so worthy of the sex in these countries, the females in India will be blessed with all that profusion of privileges which women in Christian countries enjoy; and, being thus blessed, will become the light, the shade, and the ornament of India” (83-84).  As one can see, he never expected significant change apart from the gospel taking root in India.  Ward had thus transformed from a political activist to a ‘gospel activist’ by the end of his career.

For Ward, addressing social concerns was a given.  Biblical Christians could not be concerned with their neighbors’ eternal condition without caring for their immediate needs.  Biblical Christians had no choice but to pursue biblical justice through the means of social action coupled with anchoring a society in biblical beliefs.  As contemporary Baptists think about the relationship of addressing the physical, social, and mental needs evident in the surrounding culture, it would be helpful to look to our Baptist predecessors.  Baptists should concern themselves with rescuing women from sex trafficking, loving—and possibly adopting—children abandoned to foster care or absentee parents, and speak out against the horrors of abortion and systemic oppression.  To ignore these matters is irresponsible and unloving.  Such responses would prove equally irresponsible and unloving, however, if Baptists do not seek to establish gospel wisdom in these conversations.  Lasting social change will only come through individuals who experience the grace and peace of Jesus Christ.  The gospel activist William Ward certainly thought so.


J. Ryan West (PhD Candidate, The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary) is the LoveLoud National Coordinator at the North American Mission Board. He assists Southern Baptist churches and educational institutions throughout the United States and Canada in establishing and conducting gospel-centered ministries of mercy to proclaim Christ while meeting human needs in significant and sustainable ways.  Also, he was tasked recently as an Assistant Editor for The Andrew Fuller Works Project, a fifteen-volume series to be published by Walter de Gruyter.

Should Baptists Care About Social Concerns? William Ward Believed So (PART ONE)

April 11th, 2013 Posted in 19th Century, Church History, Current Affairs

By J. Ryan West

A growing conversation has emerged within Baptist life surrounding the believer’s responsibility concerning the poor, the neglected, and other social issues. In fact, Tuesday was set apart by many leading evangelicals such as Louie Giglio and Andy Stanley to raise awareness concerning sex trafficking, forced labor, and other forms of modern-day slavery. An individual can read about the End It Movement and find ways to become involved if one is inclined to do so. Such calls for action, however, raise fundamental concerns for many within the Baptist fold. Questions abound as to whether believers should engage in actions such as helping the poor or pursuing social justice for the oppressed. Or, should Christians simply share the gospel and make an eternal difference by saving souls? To be fully informed, believers must consider these issues from several angles, including Scriptural teaching and historical inquiry. Many authors have made convincing arguments from Scripture regarding this topic including Russell Moore and Tim Keller. One perspective that is rarely addressed is the historical perspective. How have Baptists handled this issue in the past?

For a helpful case study, one should look to William Ward (1769-1823). William Ward was one of the famous Serampore Trio in Bengal India and a leading missiologist in his day. During his twenty-plus years as a missionary, he encountered atrocities that were horrific. Infanticide, euthanasia of the elderly, beheadings to placate Hindu gods, and widespread prostitution were commonplace. His approach to undermine such evils was two-fold. He sought to take appropriate action and to ensure that the gospel permeated all of India’s society. These two forms of response were based on a fundamental conviction: lasting social change would occur only when the gospel took root within a culture.

The best source for understanding Ward’s mentality, which undergirded this approach, comes from his Farewell Letters (1821). Originally, these letters were sermons that he delivered while on a three-year preaching tour of America and Britain. Eventually, he rewrote his manuscripts as if sending them as letters to various recipients. Letter VI offered insight to his view of social action in relation to gospel proclamation. His preached it to “awaken in the minds of benevolent females in Britain and America…which will ultimately secure an amelioration of their [oppressed Indian women] condition” (63).[1] Through preaching this sermon, Ward expected Christian women to respond to the message with benevolence and action. By raising awareness concerning the abuse of women in India, Ward believed he would “ultimately secure an amelioration” of their suffering. Allowing Indian women to continue as prisoners and slaves would be unimaginable in Ward’s mind once he preached this sermon (69). Throughout this book of letters, Ward’s emotions leap off of the page and readers cannot help but imagine how deeply his words must have pricked his audience. After offering a gruesome account of families killing women by burying their mothers alive, he urged the women of Britain and America to unite and make the case of Indian women their common cause (81-82). Thus, Ward called for significant action to affect horrific social issues in India.

Part two will be posted tomorrow.

[1] All references are taken from William Ward, Farewell Letters to a Few Friends in Britain and America, on Returning to Bengal in 1821, 2nd edition, (London: S. & R. Bentley, 1821).


J. Ryan West (PhD Candidate, The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary) is the LoveLoud National Coordinator at the North American Mission Board. He assists Southern Baptist churches and educational institutions throughout the United States and Canada in establishing and conducting gospel-centered ministries of mercy to proclaim Christ while meeting human needs in significant and sustainable ways.  Also, he was tasked recently as an Assistant Editor for The Andrew Fuller Works Project, a fifteen-volume series to be published by Walter de Gruyter.

I’m a Historian, Not a Prophet

March 29th, 2013 Posted in Church History, Current Affairs, Great Quotes, Historians

 By Nathan A. Finn

Historians are often asked to be prophets. In my classes at Southeastern Seminary, hardly a week goes by that one or more students don’t ask me to speculate about how the past might influence the future. This phenomenon is even more pronounced when I teach on church history in local churches. It is most common, both in class and in the church, when I teach on Baptist history. Many folks suppose that being relatively learned in Baptist history means that one is able to discern what will happen in the future. That might be true of Michael Haykin or Lloyd Harsch or Jason Duesing or Jim Patterson, but not this historian.

Recently, I was reading George Nash’s fine book Reappraising the Right: The Past and Future of American Conservatism (ISI Books, 2009). Nash has spent his career studying the conservative intellectual movement in modern America (see his landmark monograph on this topic). Apparently, historians of conservative intellectual history are similar to historians of Christian thought when it comes to requests for one don the prophetic mantle. I like what Nash writes in the introduction to Reappraising the Right.

“Historians are not necessarily good prognosticators, but by deliberately taking a longer view we can try to liberate our readers from the provincialism of the present” (p. xviii).

Now we’re talking. I have no idea if the Cooperative Program will go the way of the buffalo, if the SBC will divide on account of soteriological debates, if the Convention will become less southern and southwestern in its cultural ethos over the next generation, or who will be the next president of such-and-such theological seminary or mission board or other denominational agency (to mention but a few of the questions about which I’m regularly asked to prophesy). I’m a historian, not a prophet.

However, I do know that history reminds us to take the long view on each of these issues. The Cooperative Program has only been around for about half of Southern Baptist history and took a generation to catch on after its inception. Though critically important and worthy of our generous support, the CP is not intrinsic to our identity. The relative center of Southern Baptist soteriology has shifted over time because of a variety of factors, some of them non-theological in nature. Besides, its rather difficult to tell to what degree grassroots Southern Baptists have been in step with the relatively small handful of SBC leaders writing on soteriology at any given point in SBC history. The contemporary SBC is far less southern and southwestern (and Caucasian) than it was two generations ago, even if this isn’t entirely clear at the SBC Annual Meeting. But then the Convention is also more age diverse than is evident at the SBC Annual Meeting. As for denominational ministry presidents and other leaders, you simply never know when someone might retire (or not) and who will arise as a good candidate in such kairos moments. Nobody would have guessed in 1975 that Paige Patterson would become the president of not one but two SBC seminaries, to give but one example.

Historians aren’t prophets, and they shouldn’t pretend to be. But historians have something to offer our students and ministry colleagues as we ponder the great questions of our day. That something isn’t some infallible or even possible future, but rather historical perspective. And maybe, just maybe, if we inject a bit more historical perspective into our discussions of said great questions, such conversations might prove to be more profitable (though not prophet-able) than they so often are.


Nathan A. Finn is associate professor of historical theology and Baptist Studies at Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary. He is also an elder at First Baptist Church of Durham, NC and a senior fellow of the Andrew Fuller Center for Baptist Studies.

The Pope: Antichrist or Friend?

March 19th, 2013 Posted in 17th Century, Current Affairs

By Ryan Patrick Hoselton

About four years ago, I traveled with my former pastor to a conference where he was one of the speakers. During a break, one of the other speakers was asking me about my church’s confession (a classic “ice-breaker” at Reformed Baptist conferences). I told him that we hold to the London Baptist Confession of 1689 but with one exception. He responded, “Oh, the article about the Pope being the antichrist?” Perplexed, I said, “No, I was referring to the one about Sabbatarianism.”

My church really did not think that the Pope was the antichrist, I just did not know that the LBC of 1689 mentioned it. Chapter 26.4, says this:

The Pope of Rome cannot in any sense be the head of the Church, but he is that antichrist, that man of sin, and son of perdition, who exalts himself in the church against Christ and all that is called God, who the Lord shall destroy with the brightness of his coming.

The Philadelphia Confession of Faith of 1742 reiterates this statement. However, most of the popular Baptist confessions of the past few centuries, such as the New Hampshire Baptist Confession, 1833, and the Baptist Faith and Message, 1925, 1963, and 2000, drop any mention of the Pope. I’m sure that multiple variables factor into this shift, but charting them is not the purpose of this post. My concern is that modern Baptists do not have a consensus about how we should view the election of a new Pope last Wednesday.

I do not agree with the seventeenth century Baptists that the Pope was the antichrist. But I think that Baptists must still affirm that the “Pope of Rome cannot in any sense be the head of the Church.” It may not be wise to restore a mention of the Papacy in our confessions, but believers should be aware of the important differences. Baptists through the centuries have maintained that the classic doctrines and practices of Catholicism are harmful to the world because it offers a misleading gospel and leadership. The election of an Argentine, Cardinal Jorge Mario Bergoglio, as Pope obviously indicates the strength Catholicism has gained in the Global South. Thus, Baptists today (and evangelicals generally) must not dismiss the countries saturated by Catholicism as sufficiently “Christianized.” Mission agencies need to continue extending gospel work in catholicized areas, obeying the Great Commission issued by the first, truly non-European head of the Church—an Israelite. And no, it wasn’t Peter.


Ryan Patrick Hoselton is pursuing a ThM at The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. He lives in Louisville, KY with his wife Jaclyn, and they are expecting their first child in August.

Diarmaid MacCulloch: All history writing is autobiography

February 25th, 2013 Posted in 21st Century, Books, Church History, Current Affairs, Historians, Reformation

By Ian Hugh Clary

Recently I had the opportunity to hear Sir Diarmaid MacCulloch give a lecture on the history of Christianity and sexuality. MacCulloch is a church historian from Oxford who specializes in the English Reformation. As an evangelical, I find that his interpretation of history squares with my own, so I was perplexed by his talk.

For those who may not know, Prof. MacCulloch is an out-of-the-closet homosexual—just check the acknowledgements section of his masterful biography of Cranmer. He is also an advocate in the Church of England—where he was once an office-bearer—for gay rights. He recently left the church and now considers himself a “friend” of Christianity. As you can imagine, his lecture provoked questions. I believed that I would hear a very careful handling of sources, though admittedly there may be revisionist elements. I was wrong in my assessment.

Before I explain why, I should say that MacCulloch is an exciting lecturer—the hour or so he took in his first talk went by quickly. He addressed the role of sexuality from the Old Testament to the late Middle Ages; it was fast-paced and he covered a lot of ground, but it was never confusing or boring. I could only imagine what it must have been like to take one of his classes.

As the lecture progressed, however, I became troubled. From beginning to end, MacCulloch gave a large polemic against traditional interpretations of scripture and history. I also became more and more incredulous. This was not due to hearing an historian defend gay rights, that doesn’t shock me—it’s commonplace in academia. My upset was due to my hearing one of the world’s leading ecclesiastical historians be so shaped by his personal bias that it allowed him to crudely handle texts and history. As for scripture, MacCulloch used Boswell’s hermeneutic, alluded to gay relationships between figures like David and Jonathan, and drove a wedge between the sexual ethics of Jesus and Paul (saying the latter was the more liberal); all of this has long since been repudiated by scholars like Robert Gagnon. MacCulloch was dishonest to his audience by making his case seem so open and shut, when such is far from the case.

MacCulloch based his historical arguments on Hellenization that he argued infected the early church so that it denigrated the physical world and thus sexuality. He also hammered against the celibacy that has so dominated the western church. While I have sympathies with his views of monastic celibacy, he did not give a rounded view of the early church on the goodness of sex and marriage—the work of David Hunter offers a needed corrective. Though I was not able to attend his second lecture the next day, a friend told me that MacCulloch also did not deal with the Puritans and their views of sex, marriage, and the body—the Puritans, as Leland Ryken and others have shown, had a healthy view of sex, and were not Platonists in their view of the material world.

In the Q & A I shocked myself by raising my hand. Seemingly without control I stood and asked, “If you will allow me to ask a personal question, that is not at all meant to be cheeky, I wondered how you view your reading of history in light of your own personal story and struggles in the church. Could traditional historians not accuse you of allowing your own bias to inappropriately control your historiography, as you have accused Augustine?” He was gracious in his response, and even acknowledged the importance of the question. He replied that “all history writing is autobiography.” I found this so perplexing to hear from a scholar who has been such a model historian to me. For one who could appropriate the findings of Catholic revisionists like Eamon Duffy, yet do so while being true to the English Reformation and vindicating earlier historians like A. G. Dickens, I was disappointed to hear him justify a reading of history that would not square with his earlier historiographic methods.

Professor MacCulloch serves as a reminder to all of us: as historians, now matter how great or prestigious, we must be aware of our personal biases and strive towards objectivity. While pure objectivity is impossible, I do believe that historians can put forth a body of work that can withstand scrutiny from specialists. And while my autobiography may lurk, I cannot allow it to so colour my work that it misleads readers.


Ian Hugh Clary is finishing doctoral studies under Adriaan Neele at Universiteit van die Vrystaat (Blomfontein), where he is writing a dissertation on the evangelical historiography of Arnold Dallimore. He has co-authored two local church histories with Michael Haykin and contributed articles to numerous scholarly journals. Ian serves as a pastor of BridgeWay Covenant Church in Toronto where he lives with his wife and two children.

Politics and Christianity: oxymoronic?

November 26th, 2012 Posted in 19th Century, Current Affairs, Great Quotes

I am a firm believer in the fact that Christians should be involved in the political realm. Not the Church per se, but individual believers.

One of the reasons Christian shun this realm—though do they not often mightily complain about it?—is because of the stumbling-blocks in the whole sphere of politics. This is nothing new.

Here is a letter from the Welsh Baptist Benjamin Davies, the one-time Principal of Canada Baptist College in Montreal, writing from London, England, in the 1840s  to his good friend John Gilmour, the Scottish Baptist then resident in Canada, and who was such a force for good on the Canadian scene.

Davies has been complaining about the British political scene of his day—1845—and then he observes:

“Is it vain for us to expect honest and sterling principle in political men? It seems a desperate case, at least in the present day.”

Not much has changed in this regard, it seems. Oh, for politicians who truly love justice and right and righteousness—and not adulation and power.

Book Review of 28 Seconds: A True Story of Addiction, Tragedy, and Hope

October 10th, 2012 Posted in Books, Current Affairs

Dr. Haykin has recently reviewed 28 Seconds: A True Story of Addiction, Tragedy, and Hope by Michael Bryant. This book tells the story of former Ontario Attorney General Michael Bryant whose entire world was turned upside down in 28 seconds.

Find this review and others here on our Book Review page.

Posted by Steve Weaver, Research Assistant to the Director of the Andrew Fuller Center for Baptist Studies, Dr. Michael A.G. Haykin.

The seminary and piety: a surrejoinder

August 10th, 2012 Posted in 16th Century, 17th Century, 18th Century, 19th Century, 20th Century, 21st Century, Biblical Spirituality, Church History, Current Affairs

If we define a faithful minister of the Word along the lines of Acts 6, a man devoted to the Word and prayer, it seems to me that in the twentieth century faithful orthodox seminaries have done fairly well in training men in one half of this equation: the Word. But what of the other? Well, I think many leaders in former generations expected these things to be caught by osmosis even though Jesus responded positively to the disciples’ request that he teach them how to pray. Spirituality needs to be “taught” and handed on.

And while all professors in a seminary need to approach their specific subjects with an answerable spiritual frame, it is not wrong for some to focus on spirituality. Given the fact that spirituality and spiritual formation are increasingly huge engagements for both our larger cultural “moment” and within the boundaries of the Church, it is not unrealistic to ask certain men to specialize in the praxis of spirituality and the history of biblical spirituality.

As an historian, I feel the latter is very important: during the course of the twentieth century for a variety of reasons many of those who loved the Scriptures as the inerrant Word of God and faithfully upheld biblical orthodoxy failed to pass on the rich piety of their forebears in the Reformation, Puritan, Pietist and early Evangelical traditions. And surely this is one of the reasons why certain communities within the broad stream of twentieth-century English-speaking Evangelicalism became enamoured of the Spirit and talked as if they were the first to discover him since the Pentecost: they looked around and saw a tradition that seemed to have little place for piety, experience, and dare I say it, rapture (no I am not talking about an eschatological item!). Incidentally, here is where a man whom Carl has been writing about in recent days, Martyn Lloyd-Jones, is so helpful: his balance of Word and Spirit is admirable (re other matters Carl has raised about the Doctor, this is not the place to go into those, though I agree with Carl that the recent collection of essays on the Doctor is by and large a welcome addition to the books on that remarkable servant of God).

Maybe, I need to take up Carl’s offer and we can do a book together on this subject of the seminary and piety—and maybe Dr Lucas, if he is so inclined, could also be involved!

Spiritual formation and the modern seminary

August 7th, 2012 Posted in 19th Century, Biblical Spirituality, Books, Current Affairs

One of the classic introductions to theological studies is B.B. Warfield’s The Religious Life of Theological Students, where his primary concern is to argue for the necessity of personal piety in the life of those studying at a theological seminary. He expects that the seminary be a place of piety, where piety is inculcated and where the students experience what we call today “spiritual formation.” Reading my dear friend Carl Trueman’s recent post at reformation21 on “Witsius, Character and Cleaning Rosters” I was honestly surprised to find the following remarks in which he clearly disagrees with his distinguished Presbyterian forebear:

“I find the whole notion of ‘spiritual formation’ within seminaries to be somewhat problematic: seminaries impart knowledge and skills which are essential for ministry and which cannot be acquired with like ease in a practical mentoring situation; they also provide a context for developing important and useful friendships which will last a lifetime; but they cannot really engage in spiritual formation in any deep way.”

Trueman argues that this is because seminaries are not centers where the means of grace like the Lord’s Supper and the preaching of the Word are observed:

“Certainly, the professor can and should strive to model Christian behaviour; but the real, deep, lasting spiritual formation for ministerial candidates takes place in a church context just as it does for every other Christian. The church is where the word is preached, the sacraments administered and discipling takes place.”

To be sure, seminaries are not churches and I agree wholeheartedly that as such a seminary is not the place where baptism (albeit Carl and I differ somewhat about this ordinance/sacrament) and the Lord’s Supper are carried out. But surely the Word is preached at Westminster? What does Carl expect should happen as that Word is heard by students there? And surely the lifelong friendships formed are a central means of grace in the lives of the students—or maybe my dear brother has forgotten the way that our Evangelical (or should I say Reformed?!) forebears prized friendship as a means of grace? And would he disagree that part of the seminary professor’s role is to mentor the students (or some at least) under his care? Surely seminaries are places where more than places where “knowledge and skills which are essential for ministry” are imparted? If this is all our idea of a seminary, I would not be surprised if the long-term result were a hall of dry orthodoxy!

I am sorry, I think I shall stick with the perspective of B.B. Warfield, or one of my favorite models, D.A. McGregor (1847–1890), professor of systematic theology at and then principal of Toronto Baptist College. A former student said of his teaching: “He not only thought out the…doctrines upon which he lectured, but he felt their power, and falling tears often evinced his emotion while he spoke of some particular aspect of the truth. This made us all feel that we had before us not only a theological professor but also a Christian man whose life was swayed by the great principles about which he spoke… He not only made us see the truth, but he made us feel its power and perceive its beauty.” Were not lectures like this a rich vehicle of spiritual formation?

In fine, spiritual formation is a vital part of what should be happening at the seminary as well as the local church.