Monday, October 24, 2005

Sin, Tax, and Syntax

"Writing is a disorderly and unnerving enterprise."

I am applying to seminary, a process I have greatly enjoyed. Well, that is, until I got to question number 37 on the application form. It reads as such, "On a separate page, please type a comprehensive account of your conversion, your relationship to the Lord Jesus Christ, and your ministry experience in or outside the church (1 to 4 pages, double spaced)."

And so I began writing. This can't be hard. It's autobiography. This is a subject I feel well versed in. It's me. I can fill up 1 to 4 pages. And very quickly I did. So quickly that I filled up 4 pages and had barely only answered the first section of the question - "a comprehensive account of your conversion." I thought they wanted a "comprehensive" account. I can't do that and all the other stuff in under four pages. Double spaced.

So I went back through and tried to find sections that could be cut. Oh here's one - how about the whole first 2 pages of unorganized rambling of my pretentious attempt to be philosophical in understanding the principles imbedded in me growing up and how they worked both for my advantage and peril. Ok, I can rewrite that. After all, I was only trying to be "comprehensive." I have to explain the back story to get to the real story right? You can't just start with Episode 4 like Lucas did and not expect everybody to want to know what happened in 1 through 3. After all, isn't that being "comprehensive."

So I gave it another shot. I truncated and simplified the first section. I included a few "yada yadas" to fill in gaps. On the second section, you know, the one about my "relationship with the Lord Jesus Christ," I simply wrote, "Yes, I have one." They didn't designate me to be "comprehensive" on that one. And for the third section, I just skipped it. It didn't seem to important.

So 1 to 4 pages later, I had my application finished. You know, trying to write for a seminary is very strange. You want to sound smart but not overly pretentious, like you are transparently trying to impress them with your writing ability. You want to be humble, but not overly humble, as if you have absolutely no confidence in your intellectual capacity. It is a strange tension to write in. And oh yes, I get to write in the middle of that tension for the next three years (if they decide to overlook my rediculous application essay and accept me. No, that was too humble. I meant, "my unbelievably brilliant essay and accept me." There. Better.)

1 comment:

keely said...

Which seminary, Matty?