Gone to Carolina
I don’t mean to imply that moving to North Carolina was all doom and gloom. Since hiking on portions of the Appalachian Trail in the western part of the state as a young boy scout, I had been taken by the beauty and verdant qualities of the Tarheel territory. I was also an admirer of the music and wistful lyrics of James Taylor, particularly romanticizing the verses of “Carolina In My Mind.” And now I wasn’t just gone to Carolina in my mind. As I made the drive for the official start of my seminary experience at the end of the summer of nineteen hundred and ninety-eight, I stopped under an interstate bridge during a thunderstorm just across the border of North Carolina and let James serenade me once again.
— Sing it with me now, “In my mind I'm gone to Carolina. Can't you see the sunshine? Can't you just feel the moonshine? Ain't it just like a friend of mine to hit me from behind, when I'm gone to Carolina in my mind?” Music and Lyrics by American singer-songwriter, James Taylor (1968).
During grad school, I took advantage of North Carolina’s natural offerings whenever I could, whether it was running the gravel paths of the Al Buehler Trail in the wooded areas surrounding the Washington Duke Inn, exploring some of the vast acreage of Duke Forest, or hiking and camping at least once or twice a year with a group of divinity school buddies.
And it wasn’t just North Carolina’s natural beauty or JT’s lyrics that led me to choose Duke for my seminary education. I had considered and even visited, as I mentioned earlier, a number of theological institutions. Duke attracted me because of its iconic gothic campus and chapel. It poured too the day I toured the campus for the first time some four years before. But I never forgot the feeling as our group of prospective students were ushered in out of the rain into the vaulted nave of one of the tallest university chapels in the world.
Peering down the two hundred and ninety feet to the large clerestory stained glass windows above the ornate wooden carvings of religious figures in the chancel area, I must admit I was stilled both inside and out. Even as I had already developed a critique of religious congregations spending excessive amounts of money on church buildings rather than in support of those most in need, this space still caused me to feel both an awe and peace I hadn’t experienced at the other schools I’d visited. I was also in admiration of Duke’s reputation for academic rigor and excellence, even as it intimidated me, and of the Divinity School’s emphasis on the classical disciplines of biblical studies, church history, theology, and practical ministry. It seemed to me that these elements would provide a comprehensive and foundational knowledge of the Christian story and perhaps a better sense of my place within it.
*Thanks for reading and/or listening. Continue to next post, Bull?. To read from the beginning please go to Why I'm Writing.
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