Who knows what might happen when you decide to study theology? It is seldom a straightforward path. Long before he was flying jets in Top Gun or pulling off ridiculous stunts in Mission Impossible, and way before his connection with Scientology, Tom Cruise enrolled at St. Francis Seminary in Cincinnati, Ohio. His time there was short-lived; he was expelled for stealing booze from the Franciscans. Yet despite that youthful indiscretion, his friend and fellow conspirator Shane Dempler insists Cruise was genuinely seeking to become a Catholic priest.
Studying theology probably won’t turn us into movie stars, but it can certainly be risky. It will challenge, and sometimes even dismantle, our faith. Some students who begin theological studies with deeply held convictions find themselves wandering from the beliefs that once anchored them. The study of theology is not something to take lightly. It will and should test us. It compels us to examine what we believe and why, and to wrestle with how we understand the Faith: who God is, what God has done for us, and how God continues to work in the world. Along the way we likely find ourselves rethinking fundamental assumptions about life, work, and ministry.
This process can be deeply unsettling. We may discover that some of our most cherished beliefs are rooted more in culture or upbringing than in the gospel itself. And this is never merely an intellectual challenge. Faith (and therefore theology) is not merely a set of ideas or propositions; it is about who we are, how we live, what we value, and who we are becoming. Theology should reshape how we understand the world and how we respond to it. It would be a travesty if we finished our studies without reframing our self-perception and worldview, or without allowing our daily decisions to be transformed. It would also be a travesty if our studies lead us away from God and God’s desires for us rather than drawing us closer.
As we begin our theological journey, it is wise to consider the practices that will sustain us in knowing and loving God. Good study habits are important (especially in the age of AI tools like ChatGPT), but even more crucial is remaining grounded in the rhythms and practices of faith. One of the most formative practices in traditional residential theological education was and is regular worship with fellow students, faculty, and staff—reading Scripture, praying, and sharing in the liturgy together. When we worship together, we are less likely to become divided by our theological differences and more likely to be strengthened by them, whether that is because our own perspective is clarified or because we are led to reconsider and revise some of our theological commitments. All this should happen within an environment that fosters the trust that enables change.
Let us never underestimate the relationships that are formed during our studies: conversations over coffee, in the hallway after class, or sitting down over a meal are all part of the package. Some of those relationships will continue to sustain us in ministry long after we graduate. That is why, if you can, studying in person is worth it. If you are studying remotely or commuting, it is even more important to stay plugged into a worshipping community.
Wycliffe is an Anglican college, not in the sense of requiring alignment with Anglicanism from its students, but in its grounding in the Anglican tradition. One of the tradition’s great strengths, especially as expressed in the Book of Common Prayer, is its belief in the transformative power of Scripture, particularly when we read it and pray through it in community. Cranmer, referencing the patristic writers, speaks of reading the whole Bible on an annual basis. Regular, sustained engagement with the whole of Scripture, including the difficult and even troubling parts, fortifies our confidence that Scripture is one of the primary ways we come to know God. Through this sustained engagement, our hearts are to be set ablaze with love for Him.
While we will learn about different interpretative methods in the classroom, methods that will help us read the Bible more attentively, there is no substitute for simply standing before and under Scripture as we read and pray it together. The repetition central to the Anglican liturgy reflects the belief that Scripture has a way of working on us as we regularly hear it. As John Stott once said, like a porcupine quill, it works its way deeper and deeper into our hearts over time. We would do well to recover Cranmer’s confidence that God engages with us in and through the biblical canon at both an intellectual and existential level and that this, in turn, leads to the transformation of our lives and hopefully the transformation of society.
Some people are surprised to discover that the Book of Common Prayer is largely composed of Scripture: the set readings, collects, canticles, and prayers consistently take us into Scripture. It was designed to make Scripture in the vernacular accessible to all. As the introduction states: “nothing is ordained to be read, but the very pure Word of God, the holy Scriptures, or that which is agreeable to the same; and that in such a Language and Order as is most easy and plain for the understanding both of the Readers and Hearers.” The public reading of Scripture is central to the daily services of prayer, and for Cranmer, this reading, hearing, and praying Scripture is sacramental: a means by which God makes himself present to us and transforms us.
The daily reading and praying of Scripture together is never simply a task to check off our to-do list. It is worship: turning our hearts toward God and by his grace cultivating godliness. As important as it is to study about God, theology ultimately grows out of our engagement with God as we read, and pray, and worship together. Whatever stage you are at in the dangerous journey of studying theology, may you continue to prioritize the regular communal worship that will sustain and guard you.
