Commencement

Reflections on Graduation

Jun 28, 2024

When I walked across the stage at graduation, the words I had written weeks before were read aloud, “Alli would like to thank her family Jack, Karen, and Vance for their support and love. Her daughters, Lucy and Josie, for their continual inspiration to work towards the representation of women and the marginalized in scripture and theology. And finally, our God who sees and cherishes us.” As I gazed out at the cheering crowd, my small daughters clapping and whooping, my sweet father shouting “attawaytogo!,” and my dear professor fist pumping when “the representation of women” was read, I found my eyes filled with tears. I felt the weight of all I’d learned - and how it changed me - in the navy and gold hood draped across my shoulders.

Later that night, I looked out at our backyard filled with friends from various eras of my life. My best friends from college sat chatting at a table, one’s daughter perched on her knees, while the other showed pictures of her new home. Our neighbors laughed with my friends from book club, as they watched my daughter and her best friend soar through the air in a bounce house. Friends, new and old, gathered in our home to eat, laugh, and toast to seven years of graduate school completed.

Once again, my eyes feel suspiciously wet as I think on all that has happened in these seven years. The friendships formed, the babies born – including my own two spunky ladies, the couples wed, the homes built, the support given and received in good times and bad. I once again feel the weight of how I’ve grown, yet this time I recognize that my community has formed me alongside my books. Their goodness, love, and faithfulness have shown me time and time again God’s grace and bounty in our lives. Theology can be read and studied deep into the night, but the friend that surprises you with coffee and whispers “I’m praying for your final” brings those lessons to life.

When I began seminary at Fuller, I thought my path was straightforward. I would receive a master’s degree in Theology and Ministry and would focus on Disability Theology and Ministry. While ministry will always be a passion of mine, I found myself gravitating more towards the theology courses – specifically those that emphasized lens of theology I had not previously been exposed to. The perspective of wise feminist scholars, liberation theologians, mestizo and mujerista theology, African and womanist theologians, spoke deeply to my heart. As I plotted out my courses, filling my electives with as many Old Testament and theology courses as possible, my advisor gently said “Alli, I think it’s time to change degree plans. Your heart just yearns for the Theology classes.” I laughed in surprise, “this was never the plan,” I joke. She chuckled and nodded sagely, “it rarely is;” and a new degree plan for Masters of Arts in Theology was drafted.

So, what began as a path to ministry, transformed into a journey of reevaluating the angles from which I both learned and lived my faith. The study of how different cultures understand scripture, how a range of socio-economic classes respond to Christ’s call to care for the poor, and how a woman theologian hones in on the historic experience of a woman in the Old Testament, have shaped, grown, and enriched my faith. I discovered a deep love for the study of women in scripture, for texts analyzing connotations of Hebrew, and the ever-present care and concern for the “other” throughout scripture. An umbrella term for where I landed is theology from the margins. This could include anything from an examination of healing narratives by a disability theologian, to a scriptural analysis of how Hagar was the first female theologian, to a historical overview of a preference for the poor in the gospels. It’s broad and beautiful and different from the limited perspective of theology and scripture I was familiar with when I began Fuller. In case there is any concern about these terms: nothing in my core beliefs has wavered or changed, that’s the richness here. Further studies allow you to go deeper into what your heart has already grown to love. You learn to listen to another’s experience and expertise on a theological idea and marvel at how God is working in their heart and mind.

I am incredibly grateful for the ways in which my education stretched, challenged, and nurtured me. While in some ways it feels bittersweet to leave a school at which I have loved learning, I feel a greater sense of hope for what lies ahead. After all, they call it our closing ceremonies Commencement to emphasize that our studies were merely preparation for what comes next.

As for what that is, the question I have been receiving for all seven years of my studies, I plan to continue writing. Over this past year, I have discovered such joy in sharing elements of what I learned in graduate school through essays, prayers, and reflections. While this was far from the plan, I’m coming to accept that my plans flicker and fade while God’s shine steady. For the time being, I feel such peace and excitement about writing; and I’m honored to have you here on this small corner of the interwebs with me.

If you have any questions about graduate school, programs for theology, book recommendations (of which I relish giving and receiving), or balancing family life and school – please don’t hesitate to message, email, Instagram chat, or send a carrier pigeon. I have been so fortunate in those who helped guide and direct me, and I have made dozens of mistakes I would love to warn you against (finals at nine months pregnant are not recommended).

Commencement

Reflections on Graduation

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