This semester I'm also taking a hermeneutics class with threatens sometimes to eat up my life. It's probably my favorite class of the semester, but our professor seems to think it's the only class we're taking or else has very extravagant ideas about what Wheaton students can accomplish. As B quad has progressed, those of us in the class have been united with a sort of miserable camaraderie. We spend late hours together in the library each Wednesday night, passing around copies of Kittel's Theological Dictionary of the New Testament and directing each other to helpful excerpts in Josephus, Herodotus, Polybius, and others. Reference works and a sizable percentage of the library's Loeb collection are taken off the shelves and spread across tables. We think we should tip the library workers for the re-shelving they do.There are times, particularly the night before a paper is due, that I find myself on the verge of very angry with Dr. Green, but never completely. He's too darn charming.
The big project of the course is a 10-12 page research paper, exegeting the passage of our choice. In preparation for this, we've had reading due on Tuesdays, and short papers due each Thursday. Each paper covers an aspect of what we'll have to cover in our longer paper, in order to teach us how to do it. Use of commentaries is strictly prohibited.
According to the syllabus, our research paper is due the Tuesday after the final short paper is due. Dr. Green's reasoning is that while we prepare for those short papers, we do the same work for the long paper. The trouble is the short papers were demanding 6-8 hours of work, and sometimes more, because we're newbies at this business. (And it's hard to look up a word in a Greek lexicon if you don't know Greek. Very hard.)
So, with furrowed, concerned eyebrows, my friend Kristen and I headed to Dr. Green's office. We got the paper's deadline pushed a week later, the news of which was greeted with applause and a standing ovation in class the next day.
Here's a little glimpse of Dr. Green:
"You see, what I want you to do, girls, is write a commentary."
"The trouble with you Wheaton students is that you want things to be perfect. You want your paper to be all shiny and pretty. You wanna shine it up so it's glossy like chrome. . . . This is gonna be a messy paper! I know that. I want to see blood, sweat, and toil. It's gonna be yucky. This is your first time doing this."
This was followed by a description of how to go about writing the paper:
"It's due on Tuesday so you should finish writing it by, say, Sunday. Then you leave it alone. You let it cool. It'll be simmering in your brain even when you aren't thinking about it. And then you come back to it on Monday afternoon. Then you polish it, and you make it all shiny. You make that paper sing. It'll be beautiful."
I think most of the irony was lost on him.
So now you understand why I feel like that cat in the picture.
