The Sin of Ignorance

In his article The Contemporary Scandal, Mark Noll sets forward the idea that since the early nineteenth century, the Evangelical church has abandoned and neglected the intellectual tradition that for centuries defined growth and community involvement within the Christian Church. According to Noll, this is a grievous sin.

I must say I agree with Noll quite adamantly on the topic. I believe that the anti-intellectualism cultivated in the evangelical mind since the Great Awakenings of the nineteenth century is a negligence of studying God’s Truth and a sin on the part of the Christian Church. However, I also believe that on the part of the individual, intellectual pursuits should be defined by the skills and opportunity of that individual.

Here at JBU, we hear the phrase ‘All Truth is God’s Truth’ quite a bit. This includes truth in theology, art, music, language, science, politics, economics, engineering, mathematics, and the list goes on. However, once we step into our churches on Sunday morning, whether they be Presbyterian, Baptist, Episcopal or the ever-growing Non-Denominational, we are often met with a sharp contrast: In church, the focus is missions. Missions, missions, missionaries, and mission work. Spread the word, save lives, share the gospel. Oh, you want to teach the arts and sciences from a Christian worldview? Oh, well, I suppose that’s okay too. But you should still contribute to missions.

It is this dichotomy, holistic intellectual thinking in Christian schools and limited evangelical understanding in the church, that highlights one of the biggest, most glaring deficiencies in modern American churches.

I think one of the main consequences of this sin in the Church is the loss of influence in the world. For centuries, dozens of intellectually active Christians defined the scientific, artistic, and intellectual world. Isaac Newton, Johann Sebastian Bach, Blaise Pascal; all were Christian thinkers who revolutionized their study and profession for all of history to see. They were no less Christian because they were intellectuals and no less intellectual because they were Christian. Contrary to the commonly accepted faith/knowledge dichotomy, both their Christian lives and their intellectual lives were enhanced and complimented by each other. However, this complimentary, holistic lifestyle embraced by the Christian fathers of modern science and art has been rejected by the modern American church and the results have been devastating.

Not only do Christians tolerate if not condone ignorance among fellow Christians, but they have completely lost their intellectual influence in modern culture. Science has been overtaken by Naturalists, the arts by Existentialists, the humanities by the Humanists. Amid their intellectual negligence, Christians have been elbowed out of avenues that once belonged to them –and rightly so, because those avenues were created by God and are most fully lived out within the Christian faith in Him. However, thanks to the anti-intellectual attitude adopted by the modern Christian church, these avenues have been lost to the detriment of the American culture, the Christian Church’s influence, and ultimately the effectiveness of the very missions that the Evangelicals so ruthlessly endorse.

Although we reside in a undeniably intellectual world, Christians have chosen to ignore if not oppose intellectual pursuits, refusing to fight one of the largest, blaringly obvious battlefields of faith. Instead of reclaiming the intellectual legacy left by their Renaissance forefathers, Christians have opposed intellectual pursuits, denied God’s holistic Truth and ultimately neglected one of the greatest ‘evangelical’ or Christians opportunities open to believers in the modern era.

I think it is definitely legitimate to say that this anti-intellectualism, as Noll proposes, is a sin on the part of the Christian church, and even more legitimately, that it needs to change.

Final thoughts:

 Does this ‘anti-intellectualism is sin’ train of thought include individuals, or just collective groups of Christians?

How to we regain the intellectualism that we’ve lost? Do we have to compromise our beliefs to go into the intellectual world?

For Goodness' Sake

In his essay Is Thinking Good for its Own Sake? Clifford Williams presents the idea that some things in life, such as beauty, are intrinsically good. He defines ‘intrinsic goodness’ as a goodness that has no usefulness – it does not do anything, but is good in and of itself. It is the means and the end; it is good simply because it is good. 

In my own life, I can see this principle playing into many things I enjoy and do. I’ve been asked to come up with a list of twenty examples. In no particular order and varying degrees of specificity, they are:

• 1.      Listening to classical music and looking for the intricacies in it
• 2.      Reading a good book, fiction and non-fiction
• 3.      Stargazing
• 4.      Discussing the principles behind quantum physics (or anything else super intellectual) with my uber-genius dad
• 5.      Listing to the sound of rustling leaves
• 6.      Playing with colors on Photoshop
• 7.      Doodling
• 8.      Exploring fictional worlds through books/movies
• 9.      Writing stories
• 10.  Eating my mom’s cooking (definitely intrinsically good)
• 11.  Researching random topics (such as black holes or Irish mythology) out of pure curiosity
• 12.  Dancing around to music when no one’s looking.
• 13.  Playing with animals (especially cute puppies)
• 14.  Spending time with friends and family
• 15.  Drinking a good cup of tea or coffee (POUR JONS!)
• 16.  Thinking about pretty much anything I find interesting for hours at a time.
• 17.  Appreciating the far-reaching and provoking truths found in history.
• 18.  Playing games (20 questions!) with my sisters
• 19.  Singing with my sisters
• 20.  Dreaming

Now, while I’m positive that a large number of these have a debatable amount of ‘intrinsic’ goodness, there are things that I truly delight in that, isolated from any utilitarian purpose they may achieve, and, I think, I can truly honor God in doing all of these things.

I’ve also been challenged to participate in at least one of these things this week. Maybe, I’ll make a habit of taking part in these ‘intrinsically good’ activities every so often; I’m sure I will have a great time doing so. And by God’s grace, my life may be that much richer for it.

Final Thoughts:

1. What if we disagree with someone over what is and isn’t ‘intrinsically good’? What objective standard, as Christians, can we refer to in the grey areas?

2. Is the knowledge and recognition of intrinsic goodness intrinsically good?

Of Frenchmen and Education

In his Pedagogy of the Oppressed, Paulo Freire describes what he coins ‘banking education’ to be a form of education in which the students are ‘banked’ in with knowledge as though they were mere objects or vessels to be filled and not actually human beings. A mechanistic style of teaching in lectures and lessons presented as empirical fact, this banking method produces adapted, antagonistic, fatalistic people who do not act or think consciously, but acts as the objects they were trained to be.

Or at least, according to Freire.

Though I would never say that I agree with everything Freire says (his French Revolutionary tendencies is really getting on my nerves – and a bit of my humor) the basic spirit of what he says about education isn’t really anything new to me. With as little offense to public-schooled people as possible, growing up as a homeschooled person, this ‘banking’ concept of education is what generally came to mind (and still does, to an extent) when I think of public education. Honestly, I think it is at least partway true, though I can’t make any hasty generalizations.

I have actually experienced Friere’s ‘banking education’ in the classroom several times, the most memorable of which was in a biology class I took over the summer, a class designed for non-science majors, in which our professor said multiple times:

“I know you’re going to forget this as soon as you take the test, so I’m just going to skip over it.”

Every time she said it, I could only stare in shock. This was ‘education’?! I think Freire’s explanation of ‘banked’ education perfectly describes this situation.

One point I disagreed with Freire was when he said that this ‘banking education’ must lead to revolution. (again with the French tendencies…)  I think that instead, an overabundance of this banking education, if followed through as Freire proposes, would end in the antagonistic, dead society that he attributes to banking education earlier on. Unless someone else is there to alert them of their own deadness, the ‘oppressed’ students will never realize that they are oppressed to begin with. Though honestly, I dodn’t think this had much to do with his main point, it was a point with which I disagreed with Freire.

As for his treatment of education as a whole, I find myself agreeing with Freire, though I probably don’t fall under the extremist category that he seems to (French!) I definitely think he has made a good point: Learning is not about purely storing knowledge; it’s about engaging with the object of that knowledge and putting that knowledge into practice and changing the world.

Final thoughts:

If teachers and students are supposed to be more equal in their engagement with each other (teacher-student student-teacher) how is it possible to maintain a level of authority?

Does banking education have its place in fundamental areas of knowledge? How do we define these areas?

Looking Beyond the Red Ink

When faced with the question of ‘alternative’ methods of education, I’m not entirely sure what I ought to say, because I’m not sure that I have a full grasp of what is supposed to be ‘conventional’. As a homeschooler, my education was never really ‘normal’, and while I know how the public school system works, I’m not sure I completely understand how it works. I have been told that schools largely teach to tests and expect their students to memorize formats and facts and dates, but because I have never experienced it first hand, I can’t really compare it to anything very well. However, while looking at the different alternative education philosophies, I did find one school, Evergreen State University, which seems to have found an education method that is not even found in homeschooling communities: they don’t give their students grades. 

While many other ‘alternative’ forms of education are at least somewhat subtle in their approach, this gradeless approach radically changes everything about ‘conventional’ education. By eradicating the unspoken yet normal goal of a class, to pass with an ‘A’, ESU poses an obvious question, one they are probably just itching to answer:

What, exactly, is the point of education?

I’m not quite sure what ESU has to say about this (if they have it written anywhere on their site, I couldn’t find it. It’s not exactly a very user friendly site, in my opinion) but analyzing it from my perspective, I would have to say that the point of education is a holistic betterment of the mind, body, and soul. Without grades, the focus turns from the potential jobs and bragging rights or even pride in a good grade, and turns back to, well, learning and the importance it holds for the person’s life not their career. Without the distracting red ink literally spelling out a grade that will affect the rest of your college career, the unconventional education philosophy of ESU constantly reminds you what education is really about, one ungraded assignment at a time: learning for life.

And while I don’t pretend to think that the whole Christian college community will switch over to a gradeless curriculum overnight, if at all, I think ESU highlights a very valid point:

We don’t learn by earning grades. We learn by really learning.

Of Hill-Rolling and Whimsy

In the later part of his book, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years, Donald Miller writes about making memorable (or good) scenes – not just in a movie, but in life. As a part of this week’s assignment, I was asked to see if I couldn’t make my own memorable scene – whether that be eating with someone I didn’t know at the caf, or just doing something crazy with some friends. Although Miller might be disappointed to hear it, I wouldn’t say that I’m one to create my own scenes – they always seem to find me.

This week’s ‘scene’ that stands out most in my mind would have to be on our Honors Sabbath Sunday, when multiple professors’ families came out and let a houseful of honors students play with their kids and make cupcakes. The most memorable part of that afternoon was when one or two girls (I can’t recall whom) started to roll down the hillside outside the honors center. Within a few minutes, five or more students and four kids were all rolling down the hillside, laughing as they went. I didn’t join in myself (not for lack of enthusiasm, annoyingly, I have a grass allergy that would have had me itching for hours afterward, so I sat out) but I honestly don’t believe I missed out in the slightest. Just watching people have such fun is half the fun itself. Seeing the joy and ‘whimsy’, as Miller puts it, that lights up their faces is, for me, like experiencing it myself. The hill-rolling stands out most prominently in my mind, but then of course there was the chance of seeing some of my professors tackled by a toddler, and watching fellow students play dinosaurs with a two-year-old. The whole day, I think, was full of ‘whimsy’, if not for the mere fact that we spend the afternoon doing nothing but playing with children.

Before I read Miller’s book, I never really considered the ‘scene’s in life to be something that took much effort – I always figured that life’s moments just came along and took you with them, but the idea that you have to consciously make them in interesting to me. I suppose to some extent, I knew that the hard scenes in life took work. Why wouldn’t they? They’re hard, and it takes effort to appreciate them. 

However, I had never really considered that the same is true for the whimsical scenes in life, but if this is true, it opens up whole new opportunities to me, and a new challenge. It’s an intimidating challenge, as I have always been much too cautious and too (I think) boring to live up to Miller’s standard of whimsy. However, at the same time, there’s this soft voice that tells me, try it, you’ll like it. For some reason, whenever I hear that voice, I can also see God smiling (smirking?) knowingly somewhere in my mind’s eye. So perhaps working for whimsy is something well worth trying. If God gave us imagination, creativity, and a love for fun, then perhaps we were made to use those talents and attributes to create whimsy. And maybe, in creating such whimsy, we can say that we’ve made something good, something pleasing to God.

Now, I’m not trying to say that this ‘whimsy’ is our sole purpose in our Christian walk or even a dominant force in our life – that is not its place. But I think that whimsy may be to the memory what good food is to the tongue, or sweet music to the ears. It is a gift that God has given us so that we may explore the beauty he has put before us. The thought makes me smile.

Perhaps, before the Fall, all scenes in life were created in whimsy. Now, in our fallen world, we must also create them in hardship. And while we are creating them (both whimsical and hard) we can know that regardless of how amazing or horrible they seem at the time, God will oversee all of our scenes to ensure that they lead us to something good, to the end result of our story (Rom. 8:28). Meanwhile, here in our earthly lives, I think God has given us the freedom to create our own scenes, with creativity and enjoyment, in both whimsy and hardship, through His power and to His glory. 

If this is true, I think life began to look a bit more enchanting.