Super Student to the Rescue

We have reached that time of year when all parents rejoice. At least, the ones who don't have to gather the apples of so many parents' eyes and try to inscribe something on the tabula rasa. It's time for school! The excitement is lost on me. I can't help it. I'm glad that I don't have to worry about them killing each other while I'm at work, but with the boys' return to school comes my return to school. No, I don't accompany them because I'm in the same grade, thankfully. I have to return to the sacred and most hallowed halls of seminary so that I can become equipped to indoctrinate the next generation of students. Well, maybe the generation after that. See, I'm not stopping with my Master's degree. I have warped myself into thinking that it won't be too difficult to get a doctorate with a wife, two kids and a job. Surely, not. Nothing is too difficult for me, I'm super-human. I can deflect criticism with the power of my mind. I can read faster than a limping sloth. I can write theses better than a trained monkey. This doctorate thing should be no problem! Greek? Hebrew? Pah-shaw I say. I know several words in Spanish. I can learn a language that doesn't use the same alphabet (and is no longer spoken). It should be a cakewalk. I always use that excuse: "Well, how do you know what it says? It's a dead language!" They get some vindictive pleasure when the reduce their students to blathering piles of defeated, non-critically thinking undergrads. It's really not fair. But what else do I expect? They paid their dues and it's only right to put us through the wringer.

My only saving grace is that I do like what I'm learning. I get to figure out what all this theology stuff means. I get to look at the checkered past of so many religious institutions and peek at the skeletons in their closets. It amazes me when people steadfastly cling to archaic maxims as if directly from God to man. I can’t help chuckling when someone orgulously quotes a pastor as if his recounting of history is more accurate than what actually happened. I’m all for being zealous, but I think we need to have the facts straight before we start persecuting people because they don’t agree with us. But I digress.

So, as my boys head back to school, so do I. I return to the sacred halls of learning to prove myself worthy of entrance into the holy, ivory tower.