After my first year of Dallas Theological Seminary, Mary and I learned the ropes of life in Dallas and adjusted to the academic environment. But let me allay some misconceptions. Some people think of seminary as a quiet place where people spend a lot of time praying, meditating and chanting, with colored light streaming through stained-glass windows illuminating the streams of dusty air. Actually, it was more like other academic institutions in many ways. Age 29 on average, students came from all walks of life, including military pilots, professional athletes, lawyers, computer geeks, teachers, construction workers, professional singers and some right out of undergraduate Bible schools. They planned to go into pastoral ministry, missionary work, non-profit organizations, academic teaching careers, research or even back into secular work. Yes, there was prayer because we all took our faith seriously. We had chapel services every day. What a glorious time hearing 900 male voices (and a few females’ as well) singing the diadem in four-part harmony with gusto! But full-time studies and part-time jobs filled up our days, making for a real challenge in just living life for four years!

It was very academic, with a full load of courses at the master’s level, learning the original languages of Greek and Hebrew, learning how to study and interpret the Bible and then studying every book of the Bible and learning how to preach it. Students came with different abilities and gifting. My concern before arriving in Dallas was that during my first time in college 10 years earlier, I hated reading and writing. This led me to major in Mathematics (which required little of either). However, this time around, I read with a purpose and loved every minute of it, though my writing struggled.

The preaching part of my training proved to be difficult. I had some experience preaching in the small church I attended in western New York, but once I began studying the process of communicating God’s word and getting considered feedback I realized this was a serious weakness in my abilities. A lot of misconceptions and bad habits had to be overcome. My pride took a huge hit when my first preaching assignment (where we would preach in front of the class) was met with blank stares. Where I thought I had nailed it and left everyone speechless, the truth lay somewhere else. As was the professor’s custom, after each 15-minute spiel, the student preacher had to sit with him in front of the class and review the presentation. This was my turn to show a blank star on my face as I heard the students give brutal feedback. After a few courteous, positive statements, it became clear that no one got my main point. Did I say it was brutal?

But that was not the worst of it; after class, I met with the prof and asked him what had happened. Was it that bad? (Truth be known, I thought my classmates were dull of spirit!) I can still remember his pleasant smile as he suggested I let it rest for a week and then watch the videotape of my preaching. I did as he suggested, and it was, indeed, brutal—not the student’s feedback, but my preaching. A week’s passing helped me to see myself more objectively. My fellow students were right on target in their feedback! My plans to carry on in the line of my namesakes (Charles Spurgeon, Charles Finney, Chuck Swindoll, Chuck Smith, and Charles Stanley) were obliterated. (No, Billy Graham didn’t have Charles as his middle name). Yes, I had much to learn with humility being probably the most essential trait in learning to effectively communicate God’s Word.

But I learned other things as well. Our first summer we spent in Canada on a pastoral internship. I was 30 years old by that time and felt this was a chance to put into practice all my great learning and share deep insights with the congregation, ready to hear from this seminary student wonderful things about God (humility learning in the classroom had not extended to real life). I poured 30 hours into my first sermon, packing in many references to the Greek text, including quotes from great scholars and men of God. But there was too much to cover in the 30 minutes allotted to me. However, all of it was important, and the people eager for God’s word needed to hear it all. So, I decided to go with it all and cut out superfluous storytelling—and I would talk faster to leave nothing out. I tightened up my outline and was ready to go.

After it was over, I stood at the back of the church at what prof Howard Hendricks used to call the “worship of the worm” ceremony. That’s where the preacher made himself available to the adulations of the adoring parishioners as they exited the church, shaking the preacher’s hand and lathering on a perfunctory, “That was a great message.” Despite prof’s implied warning about this ego-inflating practice, my insecurity and sensitive ego (and lack of humility) required a pat on the back or two. One of the elders came up to me and said, “That was an interesting message….” As my mind quickly framed that feedback with the best possible interpretation, and before I could say thanks, he continued, “and that was the fastest I’ve heard anyone preach.” No mention of what I actually preached! My heart sank.

It was quite an internship! I was learning humility the only way it can be learned—the hard way. Probably the most significant thing I learned is that God is willing to use anyone who wants to serve Him. He doesn’t need our gifting or our skill. I am greatly encouraged by the story of Moses, who was insecure in himself and had a speech impediment of some kind or simply was not gifted at public speaking. God was commissioning this man to speak on His behalf. How in the world could Moses talk to Pharaoh and the elders of God’s people—after all, he had just spent 40 years looking after sheep—and those dumb animals didn’t care about his abilities or disabilities! But now God was going to use him to speak to influential and powerful people; the Sovereign Creator of the universe would not be limited in any way by any man’s inabilities or insecurities:

Then Moses said to the Lord, “Please, Lord, I have never been eloquent, neither recently nor in time past, nor since You have spoken to Your servant; for I am slow of speech and slow of tongue.” The Lord said to him, “Who has made man’s mouth? Or who makes him mute or deaf, or seeing or blind? Is it not I, the Lord? Now then go, and I, even I, will be with your mouth, and teach you what you are to say.” (Ex. 4:10–12)

This is true for all of us. Regardless of our abilities, God can use us if we are willing to obey him and His calling. He will supply and enable us for the task. And the less able we are in our natural abilities, the more God’s greatness shines through. That has been true all of my life. And the humility of embracing that is still a work in progress for me.