I never make too big of a deal over where I went to seminary. When other ministers ask and I tell them - the older guys especially - either give a cheer or a rasberry depending on whether they went there too.
I will be the first one to admit that their name looks good on my wall, but the diploma itself is written in Latin - they don't even TEACH Latin - and includes ridiculous phrases like 'a woman of blameless life'... I mean, what part of an elitist, dead language and the phrase 'blameless' project a servant leader type image.
Especially around here it is best to have the education, but be where the people are.
But this week I have two session (board) meetings (one of them her's). And on the day I wrote in my calendar 'No Meetings' - so I would save the evening for my family - I have to go and hang out with a parishioner who is bent out of shape in order to keep her and her husband in the church family. (Yes, it's worth it despite these occasional trips I have to make because someone looked at her funny).
So this morning - as the painters rumbled into my home before The Boy even woke up - I stumbled downstairs made the coffee, reached back into my cabinet and pulled out my Psnooty Theological Seminary mug with the greekish/modern logo.
That'll show em'!