My first MDiv paper at Fuller was written in November 1976 for Robert Munger’s course, Foundations of Christian Ministry (a perfect companion class to my opening quarter of Greek). It was a reflection paper on Psalm 116, and, of the many verses in it that have since shaped my life, verse 4 took hold of me most plainly: “Lord, I pray, save my life.” I heard it as my most essential and comprehensive prayer. These brief words were a cry for the Lord’s benediction then, and they remain so now at the close of my time as president, 46 years aftervI turned in that assignment.
I chose Fuller as a student because it was the most international and diverse seminary I could find and because its discussions at the time regarding the authority of the Bible were intrinsically valuable and superbly led. My experience did not disappoint as I compressed most of three years into two. I was changed by faculty and by students, and so encouraged by staff. Marc, from Reedley, California—via Juba, Sudan—taught me what it meant to see and love the truly other. Suzi, with significant impairment from cerebral palsy, taught me what vulnerability and courage could look like. The pre-lecture devotionals and prayers of some professors led me into the presence of the God of mercy, truth, and power. Tim and Carroll saved my life at their Thanksgiving table. A TA named Dan rewrote my future as a pastor-theologian.
With an eagerness and passion to live eyes-wide-open, what followed has been a life of pastoral ministry, scholarship, discovery, mistakes, surprise, creativity, marriage, friendship, parenting, joy, pain, loss, listening, and beauty. All along, I kept stumbling forward as I felt my life enlarging and deepening while I learned so much more of what it meant to be a human, a disciple in community, a husband, a father, and a neighbor.
I returned to Fuller as a faculty member hired to teach preaching—while admitting that it wasn’t my academic field, and that I wasn’t sure there was a discipline called homiletics or that anyone could be taught to preach. Otherwise, it was a perfect fit. Nevertheless, I learned so much and thank God for the joy of those four years, which included launching the Ogilvie Institute of Preaching centered on the convergence of worship, preaching, and justice. As the next surprise of being called to be Fuller’s fifth president began to settle in, I discovered that what was known about this challenge was far less than what wasn’t known about it. It became a role of exceptional honor in a season of unexplored rapids, sandy headwinds, and sludge. Things got challenging.
And yet, and yet, it seemed clear that God had Fuller in his hand. The task was to lean into any and all challenges possible and to learn to discern together what steps needed to be taken. The rapids became more familiar, the headwinds had less sand, and the sludge began to clear. Then it was possible to get down to the primary work at hand and make changes that were required. That is a far longer story than this space allows. The narrative has been one of progress and hope amidst fatigue, discouragement, reversals, as well as rapids and challenges that remain.
Leading Fuller is an immersion experience in God’s grace amidst continuous change, vivid diversity, problem solving, deep scholarship, loving community, complex realities, and faithful hope. But then, aren’t these key ingredients for most Christian leadership? That is why Fuller exists.
Today’s culture and church are thirsty—thirsty for a credible and embodied benediction, evidence the church testifies by its life that we are defined and filled by the God of love and forgiveness, new life and justice; thirsty for those who claim to be the people of God, who are set free from fear, idols, and abusive powers, and who seek that freedom for all who long for it; thirsty for a God-created human communion of people who, though unlike from one another, find their center in Christ and whose empathy, compassion, lament, and hope make Jesus visible. Lord, save me. Lord, save us.
Thank you, O Lord, and thank you, Fuller, for the privilege of a lifetime to serve as president of Fuller Theological Seminary. God’s call now of David Emmanuel Goatley to be Fuller’s sixth president is already a source of great joy and hope, an anticipatory benediction for Fuller’s future.
Mark Labberton, Fuller Seminary’s fifth president.
My first MDiv paper at Fuller was written in November 1976 for Robert Munger’s course, Foundations of Christian Ministry (a perfect companion class to my opening quarter of Greek). It was a reflection paper on Psalm 116, and, of the many verses in it that have since shaped my life, verse 4 took hold of me most plainly: “Lord, I pray, save my life.” I heard it as my most essential and comprehensive prayer. These brief words were a cry for the Lord’s benediction then, and they remain so now at the close of my time as president, 46 years aftervI turned in that assignment.
I chose Fuller as a student because it was the most international and diverse seminary I could find and because its discussions at the time regarding the authority of the Bible were intrinsically valuable and superbly led. My experience did not disappoint as I compressed most of three years into two. I was changed by faculty and by students, and so encouraged by staff. Marc, from Reedley, California—via Juba, Sudan—taught me what it meant to see and love the truly other. Suzi, with significant impairment from cerebral palsy, taught me what vulnerability and courage could look like. The pre-lecture devotionals and prayers of some professors led me into the presence of the God of mercy, truth, and power. Tim and Carroll saved my life at their Thanksgiving table. A TA named Dan rewrote my future as a pastor-theologian.
With an eagerness and passion to live eyes-wide-open, what followed has been a life of pastoral ministry, scholarship, discovery, mistakes, surprise, creativity, marriage, friendship, parenting, joy, pain, loss, listening, and beauty. All along, I kept stumbling forward as I felt my life enlarging and deepening while I learned so much more of what it meant to be a human, a disciple in community, a husband, a father, and a neighbor.
I returned to Fuller as a faculty member hired to teach preaching—while admitting that it wasn’t my academic field, and that I wasn’t sure there was a discipline called homiletics or that anyone could be taught to preach. Otherwise, it was a perfect fit. Nevertheless, I learned so much and thank God for the joy of those four years, which included launching the Ogilvie Institute of Preaching centered on the convergence of worship, preaching, and justice. As the next surprise of being called to be Fuller’s fifth president began to settle in, I discovered that what was known about this challenge was far less than what wasn’t known about it. It became a role of exceptional honor in a season of unexplored rapids, sandy headwinds, and sludge. Things got challenging.
And yet, and yet, it seemed clear that God had Fuller in his hand. The task was to lean into any and all challenges possible and to learn to discern together what steps needed to be taken. The rapids became more familiar, the headwinds had less sand, and the sludge began to clear. Then it was possible to get down to the primary work at hand and make changes that were required. That is a far longer story than this space allows. The narrative has been one of progress and hope amidst fatigue, discouragement, reversals, as well as rapids and challenges that remain.
Leading Fuller is an immersion experience in God’s grace amidst continuous change, vivid diversity, problem solving, deep scholarship, loving community, complex realities, and faithful hope. But then, aren’t these key ingredients for most Christian leadership? That is why Fuller exists.
Today’s culture and church are thirsty—thirsty for a credible and embodied benediction, evidence the church testifies by its life that we are defined and filled by the God of love and forgiveness, new life and justice; thirsty for those who claim to be the people of God, who are set free from fear, idols, and abusive powers, and who seek that freedom for all who long for it; thirsty for a God-created human communion of people who, though unlike from one another, find their center in Christ and whose empathy, compassion, lament, and hope make Jesus visible. Lord, save me. Lord, save us.
Thank you, O Lord, and thank you, Fuller, for the privilege of a lifetime to serve as president of Fuller Theological Seminary. God’s call now of David Emmanuel Goatley to be Fuller’s sixth president is already a source of great joy and hope, an anticipatory benediction for Fuller’s future.
Mark Labberton, Fuller Seminary’s fifth president.
This issue of FULLER magazine hopes to witness to this sacred movement, happening in the church all over the globe. The stories, articles, and interviews in these pages seek to point to a God who continues to bring forth a new and good reality, day by day.
