a post from May 2021 that never made it to print!
My husband is wrapping up his second year at Concordia Seminary, St. Louis.
As a “traditional route” student, next year will be his vicarage year. I always tell the uninitiated that a vicarage is like a full-time, immersive internship experience. Instead of spending time in the classroom, Matt will be doing pastor-y things on a full-time basis — with supervision, of course.
The seminary holds ceremonial church services on Call Day, when second-year seminarians will be given their vicarage congregation assignments and graduating seminarians are given their first call congregation(s). Their first “big boy job,” so to speak. Matt’s vicarage placement service was last Wednesday afternoon. And friends, it was…a day.
The terrifying thing about these ceremonies? You have practically no idea where your husband will be serving in either of these scenarios until the day of, like…the end of the service.
You have to sit through a sermon without wanting to claw your eyeballs out, guys. And it could be a good sermon, too. Like…imagine the worst sermon you’ve ever heard without fear and anxiety and The Unknown™ hanging over your head and know that it is far preferable to sitting through a call service sermon — but please note DP Lange preached a really good one; so if we’re taking requests it would be great if he could preach at the 2023 call service, thanks.
The terror multiplier is knowing you could go literally anywhere in the United States. Talk about anxiety. Talk about emotion. Talk putting your life’s plan in God’s hands. It is full surrender of any intentions, ambitions or assumptions.
musings of an everywoman 