It is May 4th, friends! As in “May the Fourth Be With You!” For those of you who haven’t quite caught on, the fourth day in May is Star Wars Day. For many fans with paid-time off to spare, this is a day watch all six movies in production, chronological, or Machete order. I will also be graduating from seminary this May. Very cool. Thus, it seems fitting that I share how the Force brought me to seminary.

In 1997, the father of a close friend took my friend and I to see The Empire Strikes Back (Special Edition) at the local movie theater. The seats were stiff and musty. The floor was sticky with spilled cola from a decade earlier. It was everything I fondly remember about the movie theater experience before internet streaming and High-Definition video piracy prompted cinemas to up their game by mopping the floors and installing recliners. My friend and I sat in anticipation, our buckets of popcorn already half empty. After several trailers, the blue print “A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away” quietly appeared, only to fade as the yellow text for the opening crawl burst onto the screen! John Williams’ iconic score filled the room! My 8-year old heart pounded in my chest as I dutifully read the crawl, trying to grasp what it all meant!. This, friends, was the first time I had ever seen a Star Wars film in its entirety. And it was nothing short of life-changing.

The following Christmas, my parents bought me the Special Edition trilogy on VHS, and I watched those over, and over, and over again. I subscribed to the monthly publication, Star Wars Insider, to stay on top of the latest cantina chatter from a galaxy light-years away. I even had the official fan club membership card. Thus I quickly moved into the world of Star Wars fandom, learning all the fun and inconsequential trivia that often leads folks watching the movies with me to say “New rule. No more talking during the movie.” I immersed myself in this other world. I read the novels and comic books. I borrowed various editions of Essential Guides to Star Wars and learned all the histories, biographies, and technology behind George Lucas’ epic space opera.

And I was captivated by the Force, and the Jedi Order. I could write a post devoted just to the Jedi Order with all of its virtues and vices, but not today. Suffice it to say, the Jedi were a mysterious clan of space wizards who followed the way of some mysterious space energy. Cool enough. Yet these Jedi had a master-apprentice structure. One did not simply become a Jedi. There was training, and studying, and mentoring. And this was a new idea to me. I grew a deep desire to be mentored in the ways of the Force (sorta).

The late 90s and early 2000s were the hay day of Evangelical youth ministry in the USA. A church youth group could attend a youth conference once a month if they could afford it. For every secular band a kid enjoyed, there was an alleged Christian music industry equivalent. The Evangelical youth market even peddled a vast array of Bible verse-adorned graphic tees (I owned a dozen!). In the midst of all the superficial clothing, mediocre music, and dozens of altar calls at youth

conferences, I felt something was lacking. The Gospel as it was presented at these events offered no path of discipline or growth. The message was often along the lines of “Accept Jesus, and be saved from sin. And you will be changed.” If there was change, most of my peers and I weren’t always aware of it. Rather, we responded to alter call after alter call to accept Jesus as our personal Lord and Savior, waiting for the climactic transition into new life. For some, that has their experience. But for myself and others, it was an increasingly empty activity. For those of us who grew up in the church, or who considered ourselves Christians, there was little for us to do after “accepting Jesus into our heart.” We were in the Jesus fold. Huzzah…

So I watched, read, and dreamed about Star Wars and the Force. I fantasized of being taken under the tutelage of a Jedi Master, who would teach me to grow, to become more attune to the world around me and the cosmic presence that sustained it. I’m an extrovert, so in my adolescence I naturally sought out mentors, and I am ever thankful for those who took on that task.

But my church tradition did not offer any element of personal training or discipline, no method of growing in my faith or in my sense of self. I knew that other religious traditions offered histories and catechisms for discipleship, but evangelical youth culture offered not such thing. The catechism for “growth” was limited to 1) don’t sin, and 2) search out God’s will for your life (for the record, I’m still waiting for a droid with a hologram, or an owl bearing a letter).

I went college to study youth ministry, because I found youth group to be a safe place during high school and I wanted to facilitate safe spaces for others. Through God’s providence, two classes touched my spirit where my deep love of Star Wars resided.

The first class was a New Testament survey course. On the first day of class, the professor mentioned a name that I had never heard referenced when discussing the biblical text: Alexander the Great! I knew the name from high school history classes. I knew he wept when he conquered the known world. I never knew that his conquest helped set the stage for the culture and context that Jesus would be born into. The Bible suddenly ceased to be an isolated narrative culminating in Christ,

but instead was now part of history. As the class, and subsequent classes, progressed, I found myself asking questions like “Who are the Chaldeans? What were their gods and worship practice like?” “What was the difference between a Pharisee and a Sadducee?” Or “What is happening in Palestine around the time Plato is writing his Republic or when Homer is conceiving The Odyssey?” The world of biblical studies opened up before me. The Bible captured a millennia worth of history (sorta.. we can discuss dating and historicity at a later time). And it was a history that was part of a global history of events. Not only that, there were languages to learn, and customs to understand. The biblical text was as captivating to my imagination as any obscure Star Wars character biography or mysterious Jedi tome. The same part of me that loved learning the intricacies of a mysterious galaxy far, far away jumped with joy to learn about God’s relationship with a people in an era far removed from my own. It was like discovering the world building enterprise of a master storyteller.

The following year, I took a required course that introduced me to the world of spiritual formation. It exposed me to writers throughout the history of the Church who took on disciplines like fasting and a whole variety of prayerful meditations. The mystics of the Jesus tradition were what I had been longing for over most of a decade. These men and women of God testified to the richness and compassion of a God who invited all to pursue him intimately, and in doing so discover more about themselves. These were the “Jedi masters” who knew the Great Master in a way I did not. And I could learn from them. When I graduated from college, all I understood about my future is that I wanted to learn more, and grow more.

Six years ago, I enrolled in seminary. I agreed to take out the loans so I could learn more about the majesty and complexity of the Bible, as I had learned more about the galaxy of Star Wars. I sought out the classes on spiritual disciplines and spiritual formation because I wanted to become intimate with the great mystery that is Christ. I wanted to be challenged in my spiritual life, and beckoned into ongoing renewal. I wanted to know the Peace of God. Instead of Yoda and Obi-Wan Kenobi, I found Teresa of Avila and St. John of the Cross. Instead of a quasi- amoral Force, I found the person of the Holy Spirit.

So the Force brought me to seminary, insofar that such an idea stirred up a thirst and longing for something I lacked. And the Holy Spirit was present in that stirring, and in that longing.

I pray we all have such things stirred up in us, and I trust the Holy Spirit will meet us there.

May the Force be with you.