It’s Dr. Morton, Damn It

“It's Dr. Evil, I didn't spend six years in Evil Medical School to be called ‘mister,’ thank you very much.” (Austin Powers)

Saturday I will graduate with my Ph.D. in Higher Education. I started five years ago and it has been an obviously significant part of my life and is a major life accomplishment that I am proud of. However, in the process of obtaining the degree I have become disillusioned by it. In fact, obtaining a doctorate is really not much more than proving that you are willing to do it. And for the most part, the only people that really care are those who care. This is not to diminish what it means for me or for anyone else who is or has pursued their doctorate; it is only to point out that, for the most part, the symbolic value of it is more impressive than the actual value of it. The only real benefit of the degree is that it opens opportunities that might have previously been closed. As one who values learning, the process was much more meaningful than the result. Working out ideas, being challenged in new ways, interacting with others who were also working out their own thoughts, clarifying personal values and areas of interest, sharpening skills and developing new ones, understanding personal limitations and competencies, and being able to do things that I love such as research, write, and do some critically thinking were what made it valuable for me. In fact, I am a little uncomfortable with being referred to as Dr. Morton.

The thought of “arriving” is actually pretty distasteful to me in general. When I was a young minister wanting to prove to myself and others that I was worthy of whatever it was that I wanted to prove myself worthy at (which changed constantly) was a constant source of anxiety. At times I wanted the attention and adoration of those who were successful in their ministry endeavors. At other times I wanted the pride that would come with effective implementation of my unique set of spiritual gifting. And often I desired the happiness that appeared to come with spiritual maturity. These ideals were goals to obtain, goals which were praised by the institution. Despite my best efforts though, I never really got anywhere. Now I did get better at looking like I was getting somewhere and I was maturing in my faith, but progressing toward the goals never really occurred. This left me feeling inadequate, insecure, and depressed. The inability to ever arrive was exhausting. My relationship with Christ (the very thing I claimed was central to all my goals) was only there as a refuge when I was unable to succeed at my spiritual goals.

To paint a picture of it, I entered into institutional work to serve that which the institution represents only to be more impressed with what the institution itself could offer me than to grow in and serve Christ. So it is not without obvious irony to me that I have received a doctorate in institutionalism, but I will also commit to not being subject to the anxiety of living up to the institution. I will commit to continue to learn and grow under the disciplines and values of the institution and taking pride in my relationship with it, but I will also reject any notion of arriving.

What I do with this degree with ultimately prove its real worth. As I emerge spiritually I must hold to the same values and convictions about my relationship with the institutional church. I can be a part of the institution but never belong to it. I can love the institution, but never depend on it. I can partner with the institution, but never become subject to it. I can thrive in the institution, but never strive for success in it. And I can experience all that the institution has to offer, but never forget what it can’t offer.

And by the way, I will be available at 9:00 on Saturday to play Words with Friends for about an hour in anyone is interested.