Education, Not Credentials
You Do Not Need Seminary But You Do Need to Be Educated
Education, Not Credentials
You Do Not Need Seminary But You Do Need to Be Educated
There are some common assumptions about formal Bible education.
The first is that if a man is going to understand the Bible deeply, he must attend a seminary. The second is that men who attend and graduate from seminary think of themselves as superior to those who do not. The third is that those graduates actually are superior to those who have not received the same training.
Each of these assumptions needs to be addressed. It is not true that seminary is the only path to a deep knowledge of Scripture. It is not true that formal training automatically produces arrogance, even though some men may fall into that trap. And it is not true that graduates are inherently better Christians than their brethren. What is true is that seminary compresses years of study into a short time, and most Christians will never match that pace on their own. But the responsibility for education does not belong to seminaries alone. It belongs to every believer and to every congregation.
The purpose here is not to tear down schools. I am grateful for mine. The purpose is to draw attention to a reality that churches must face. If we want educated members and strong congregations, we must cultivate a culture of training that does not rely only on a seminary system. The command of God is clear: “Study to shew thyself approved unto God, a workman that needeth not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth” (2 Timothy 2:15). That charge was given to every Christian, not only to graduates of a school.
What Scripture Expects of Every Christian
The Bible does not divide believers into two groups: those who know and those who do not. Every Christian is commanded to grow in knowledge and maturity. Paul wrote to the church in Colossae, “Whom we preach, warning every man, and teaching every man in all wisdom; that we may present every man perfect in Christ Jesus” (Colossians 1:28). The goal was maturity for every man, not only a small class of trained professionals.
The Hebrew writer rebuked his audience for failing to grow. They should have been teachers, yet they remained dependent (Hebrews 5:12). In the context, milk was something sick people or babies ate. Meat was the Holy Scriptures. Their need was not for easier material but for greater diligence. Peter described all of Scripture as milk: “As newborn babes, desire the sincere milk of the word, that ye may grow thereby” (1 Peter 2:2). The issue is not that some parts of the Bible are simple and others are advanced. The issue is whether we take it in with enough regularity and discipline to grow.
The New Testament model is multiplication. Paul told Timothy, “And the things that thou hast heard of me among many witnesses, the same commit thou to faithful men, who shall be able to teach others also” (2 Timothy 2:2). Notice the chain: Paul to Timothy, Timothy to faithful men, those men to others. The work of training did not require a seminary. It required Christians passing truth along in deliberate, disciplined teaching.
Seminaries may provide structure, but they do not supply anything God did not already command the church to cultivate. Every Christian is called to be a student of the Word, and every congregation is called to equip its members for teaching, service, and growth. That expectation belongs to the whole church. The question is not whether Christians can grow, but whether they are willing to make the sacrifices required for growth.
Why Seminary Seems Necessary
One of my teachers made a claim that has stayed with me for years. He told us that by the time we finished two years of concentrated training, we would have logged more hours in Bible study than many Christians accumulate in forty or fifty years. His numbers may not have been precise, but the truth of his point remains. The sheer intensity of structured study in a program like that places a student far ahead of the average member.
Here is the math. Six hours of class time each weekday totals thirty hours. Add to that four hours of study six days a week, another twenty-four hours. Together, the weekly load is fifty-four hours. Across two years, with roughly fifty weeks of work each year, the total is 5,400 hours of focused Bible study. That level of immersion leaves a permanent impact.
Now compare that with the habits of the average believer. Surveys confirm that most seldom open a Bible outside of worship. Pew Research reports that only about one in five Americans read Scripture weekly apart from services, while the majority admit they seldom or never do. Barna found that about half of U.S. adults read the Bible fewer than twice a year, if at all. LifeWay surveys show that only eleven percent read it daily. Even among the faithful, the time invested usually amounts to minutes a day. At one or two hours per week, the lifetime total will fall below what a student accomplishes in just two years.
This explains the first assumption. It is easy to conclude that seminary is required for deep knowledge because the gap is so wide between immersion and casual study. But the truth is that anyone could reach that level in one of two ways. They could sustain the same discipline across a lifetime, or they could accelerate the pace by increasing their hours of study. That second path requires sacrifice. Sleep, work, or leisure must give way if the time is to be found. Most people will not make those sacrifices.
The problem is not ability but human nature. Life is divided into duties, leisure, and rest. We work, we worship, we care for our homes, and we maintain our health. Within those compartments, study must compete for time. To reach in-depth knowledge quickly, something else must be set aside. Most people possess the capacity, but not the willingness. They will not make the exchange.
Psychologists describe this with motivation theory: sustained learning requires structure and accountability, because most people will not persist in abstract study without external support. The Bereans in Acts 17:11 were commended because “they received the word with all readiness of mind, and searched the scriptures daily, whether those things were so.” That kind of daily discipline is rare. Without it, seminary students appear as though they have access to something others do not, when in fact they have simply done what most will not.
The Blessing and the Temptation
Seminaries provide immense value. My own years of training remain among the most important of my life, and I thank God for those who sacrificed to make them possible. The structure, the mentorship, and the immersion in Scripture are blessings. At the same time, the way seminaries are often used can weaken the church.
Congregations sometimes send away their best and brightest for years. During that time, the local body loses one of its strongest members. More often than not, those students do not return. They are sent into other works, and the very congregations that nurtured them are left gutted of their greatest potential. I have written elsewhere about this pattern, and others such as Voddie Baucham have also drawn attention to it.
But if a graduate does return, he is seldom received in balance. At times he is ignored, treated as though he is no different than before, and given little opportunity to use what he has gained. At other times he is elevated far above his brethren, honored with more respect than any man should bear. Both paths are unhealthy. When respect is withheld, his efforts are wasted, and the church fails to give honor where honor is due. When respect is excessive, even a humble man runs the risk of believing the hype, of accepting the flattery that surrounds him. Both paths harm the minister and the church.
And here is where the second assumption appears. Some graduates come back from seminary thinking they are above their brethren simply because they hold a diploma. Education can be twisted into pride. Paul warned plainly, “Knowledge puffeth up, but charity edifieth” (1 Corinthians 8:1). The problem is not the hours of study or the education in itself. The problem is the heart of the student. A man who mistakes his certificate for superiority has misunderstood the very Scriptures he studied.
I recall the words of the Director Emeritus of the Memphis School of Preaching. He said, “Once you graduate, take that diploma, put it in the desk, and get to work.” Another teacher put it more humorously: “When you graduate, you will have a diploma. Take that diploma, add four dollars, and you can buy a cup of coffee.” Their point was the same. A certificate carries no spiritual weight. What matters is what you do with the knowledge you have gained, and whether you serve with humility in the body of Christ.
The burden of the church is to hold graduates accountable, not as professionals above the flock, but as servants within it. When congregations and schools reinforce humility, the blessing of formal training outweighs the temptation of pride.
Equipping, Not Elevating
The third assumption is that seminary graduates are inherently superior to other Christians. This is not true. Education equips, but it does not sanctify. The measure of greatness in the kingdom is not a certificate but service. Jesus said, “Whosoever will be great among you, shall be your minister: and whosoever of you will be the chiefest, shall be servant of all” (Mark 10:43–44).
A better model is for congregations in a region to cooperate in supporting Bible students. When a young man or woman shows promise, the surrounding churches can commit to send them for a season of concentrated training with full support. They should not worry about survival or finances. When the study is complete, they return to the same region, either to serve as a salaried minister or to contribute as a member with advanced training. This keeps the fruit of education in the local body. It also strengthens the teaching capacity of the region as a whole.
Imagine a congregation with several members who have seminary-level training. Those members may not all serve as full-time preachers, but they can teach Bible classes, lead devotionals, and mentor others. The effect would be tremendous. The more teachers we cultivate, the stronger the church becomes.
This aligns with what education researchers call scaffolding. Learners advance most when they are given structured support and then encouraged to practice on their own. Congregations can provide that kind of scaffolding. Elders, teachers, and mature Christians can create accountability and opportunities for practice, ensuring that serious students grow without needing to leave the local body for years at a time.
Seminaries still have a role. Their faculty, resources, and curriculum are valuable. They should encourage embedded learning, short courses, and constant ties to local congregations. Certification should exist as a tool for confidence, not a badge of elevation. In this way, seminaries can bless the church rather than gut it.
Conclusion
It is possible to master Scripture without a seminary. The Word of God is sufficient, and the diligent Christian can grow into maturity by personal study. Yet most will not pursue that path without structure and accountability. That is why seminaries exist, and why they must be used wisely. The problem lies not in the schools themselves but in how congregations rely on them. The solution is for churches to cooperate, sponsor serious students, and reintegrate them into their local bodies after study. This model preserves the value of formal education while ensuring that congregations grow stronger instead of weaker.
The goal is not credentials but maturity. Paul described it: “Till we all come in the unity of the faith, and of the knowledge of the Son of God, unto a perfect man, unto the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ” (Ephesians 4:13). That is the standard every Christian must pursue. A seminary may help, but the responsibility belongs to us all.
A Word on What Already Exists
I am not rediscovering fire, reinventing the wheel, or building a better mousetrap. The concerns raised here are not new. The opinions, the warnings, the observations, and the potential solutions have been voiced for years by faithful men. The mechanisms for solving these problems already exist in many places.
For example, the Georgia School of Preaching operates as a scaffolded learning institution. Congregations in the region host classes, and students can advance through certificates while remaining active in their local churches. The Memphis School of Preaching offers an ongoing training program. A graduate with a formal Bible degree can pursue a master’s equivalency through additional coursework, or he may audit classes and receive certification at a lighter pace. These efforts provide advanced training without uprooting men from their congregations.
The point of this article is not to inspire the invention of new structures, but to encourage the use of what wise brethren have already implemented. Too often the solutions are present, but unused. What is needed is not novelty, but commitment.