TL;DR – I graduated. And that’s worth celebrating.
At the end of June, my wife and I traveled to London for me to take part in my graduation ceremony. I received a Post-Graduate Diploma (PGDip) from London School of Theology in “Aspects and Implications of Biblical Interpretation” (it’s a mouthful—Hermeneutics, for short).
I originally started the Master’s programme back in 2018—when the only jobs I had were pastoring a church and launching City to City Ukraine. Only two! What did I do with all my time?!
I began chipping away at the programme, and really enjoyed the material. At the end of 2019, I took on the role of Training Coordinator for City to City Europe. All of a sudden, I had less time available for studies (and the days of COVID certainly didn’t help). Nevertheless, I kept making slow progress.
Then, for us here in Ukraine, COVID abruptly stopped on Feb. 24, 2022—when Russia’s full-scale war on Ukraine began. This paused a lot of things in life and shifted our focus to just surviving and serving those suffering. My seminary was very understanding, given us fighting for survival and all, and granted me academic leave. More than once.
Things began to stabilize here a bit in the latter part of 2022. In the beginning of 2023, I was invited to take part in the design process and ultimately presented with the opportunity to become the first Convener for the newly launched Global Training Team of Redeemer City to City. It was right in line with my passion around training and supporting church planters and so I said yes and stepped into this role at the beginning of 2024.
But that meant I was now juggling 4 roles (local church, CTC Ukraine, CTC Europe, and now CTC Global)—plus my seminary that had been on pause for close on 2 years since the war started. I had gotten to the final stage in the program of writing my dissertation. I had even submitted and had the plan approved, but had no time to work on it. I realized something had to change if I was ever to complete it.
That’s when I decided to take a sabbatical from pastoring the local church—not from all my other roles, mind you! This was, in theory, to complete the Master’s. But once I set aside the pastoring role, I discovered something I didn’t fully realize until that point: I was very tired. I was exhausted—and resentful of being so, in fact. I had been running so hard and long that I didn’t know how tired I was. Working 70+ hours a week was taking a toll I hadn’t fully understood. (Note to the ministers reading: that is almost never a healthy, admirable thing—it’s probably just a sign of idolatry.)
In setting down my ministry role in the local church, I also came to see: I STILL have a very full-time job between the various CTC roles. Only now it felt like having a manageable job. It felt like I was able to breathe and actually enjoy life, both the work and non-work parts. I never did get to the dissertation, but I learned something even more valuable in that “study leave” instead: I have limits. I am not invincible. I need rest. And neglecting that is not a badge of honor; it’s a mark of unhealthiness. And with this I made the decision to pass on the church to another pastor.
And so, the time ran out on my program. Rules are rules and I could only pause the programme for so long. I had done enough to receive the PGDip, slightly short of the Master’s I had set out for. Honestly, it was hard to come to terms with that. I felt disappointed in myself. Anyone who has worked with me knows that follow through/seeing things through to the end is generally one of my strengths. And here I had to admit: I didn’t finish what I set out to do.
Shortly after communicating with my programme director and agreeing to exit the programme with the PGDip, I received an email about the upcoming graduation ceremony. My first thought was, “Why should I go? I didn’t finish. Hardly worth celebrating.” But I’ve come to recognize my own tendency to see too quickly everything that’s wrong. Learning to celebrate the good, savor the successes, has been and remains challenging for me. This is exactly why I decided to push back against my self-criticism and be intentional about celebrating. My wife and I bought tickets to London for the graduation.
Once there, waiting before the ceremony, all the same internal criticisms and doubts began swirling in my head. I thought, “I don’t belong here.” But my wife in her compassionate wisdom encouraged me. I started feeling that maybe I do belong here.
In the church, the graduates (probably about 80 in all, including undergraduates and post-graduates) ascended the stage, shaking the hands of the president, academic dean, and their program director. I got to meet my own programme director, Dr. Julie Robb, there on the stage for the first time. It was a fully distance-learning, individual study programme. She spoke brief yet kind words of affirmation and congratulations. I was then truly glad I came. She had been a source of great encouragement, prayer and much empathy over the years, especially after the war started.
As the ceremony drew to a close, they announced that there was a number of academic prizes to be awarded. I didn’t know about this part of the programme previously and looked down in the programme guide to see the title of the first prize: “The Mary Fisher Prize for Commitment: Awarded to the graduate who has demonstrated tenacity in the face of in the face of adversity.” I thought to myself, “Hmm, that’s an interesting award… Tenacity in adversity—sounds like Ukraine…”
No sooner had I thought this then I heard my name being called as the recipient of this prize. My programme director, Julie Robb, had nominated me, knowing the years of struggle and how I kept trying to press on with the degree despite the hardships of war. I was caught by surprise (not generally something I care for, but exceptions can be made) and deeply moved. I received the award with tears in my eyes—and having forgotten my graduate cap!
On one hand, I saw in it an acknowledgment of all the hardships that all of us here in Ukraine have born over these years. Despite the lack of electricity, the explosions, the tragedy that has struck every one of us who have friends and family that have been wounded or laid down their lives for the rest of us—we press on. “Tenacity” is exactly the right word. It is your word, Ukraine. So I dedicate this award to all my brothers and sisters in Ukraine.
And on a personal level, it was the nail in the coffin for my feeling out of place and like I had failed—something to drive through my obstinate skull that, “Yes, Ben, you do belong here. And your accomplishments are worth celebrating.” It may not have turned out like I planned (also something I don’t care for), but in God’s gracious mercy, it’s probably just the real bit of education I needed.
