Tag: Jamie the Very Worst Missionary

Re-Thinking Christian Higher Education

Bob Jones UniversityI stole the picture to the left from Randall Balmer’s excellent piece yesterday about the rise of the Religious Right. It’s a shot of Bob Jones University taken three decades ago. I picked it because it has a distinctive institutional feel. There is something very fortress-like about the building shown.

The unique nature of the millennial generation has been a regular theme on this blog. I remain convinced that something substantive has shifted. Today’s Christian university students aren’t looking to enter fortress-like compounds that keep them isolated from the broader world. They see their Christian faith propelling them into that world to impact it for the God, even though they find the world a messy place that doesn’t align with their easy answers.

While I’ve decried fortress-like patterns at schools like Cedarville, Bryan, Bob Jones, Patrick Henry, Pensacola Christian, and many others, I’ve been trying to think deeply about what the alternative looks like. How does a Christian University begin where millennials are? Does their approach to diversity and social networks automatically suggest a relativism to be avoided? Or can we find ways that their questions revitalize a Christian faith that can engage today’s complex world as it is rather than how we imagine it might be?

I came across some interesting blog posts in the last couple of weeks that suggested a path that Christian Higher Education might pursue. In his Revangelical blog, Brandan  Robertson wrote a fascinating piece this morning titled “I’m Probably Wrong“. He describes how he’d get into deep theological conversations with others and then end his reflection with “I’m not sure I believe any of that.” He writes:

The very nature of faith is that it is a jump towards something that we can’t see clearly and can’t comprehend fully. And faith requires humility to admit that we may not be right. That other people may have a more solid perspective. And that maybe the answer isn’t found in “us” or “them”, but somewhere in between. Our faith should always be expanding, deepening, and changing as we seek to know and learn about our eternal God who transcends all things. We should be very nervous of people who claim to have it all figured out- simply because of what that means: they have figured out God. I recently interviewed a well known reformed pastor and asked him if his theology has changed since he had entered in to ministry nearly twenty years ago. His answer was simple: “No.” As I read his response, I was taken back. How can your “words about God” not have changed in twenty plus years?

As I often tell my students, the kind of intellectual humility Brandan is calling for is the essence of good scholarship. We explore possibilities that make us uncomfortable but are willing to retain Faith that God is at work.

Another post that caught my eye came from Jamie (The Very Worst Missionary) Wright a couple of weeks back. She wasn’t writing about education, but the far more important topic of how our children relate to faith. Her piece, titled “Not All Pastor’s Kids are Christian. Sorry.“, is a reflection on her own children. One sings worship songs. The other isn’t sure he believes in God. But rather than worry about “what people might think“, Jamie and her pastor husband have left them room to decide.  In fact, she very carefully speaks to the issue of expected religiosity:

So first we told them to be honest, to tell the truth about who they are and where they’re at with the whole God thing, always, even if it makes people uncomfortable. Even at youth group? Yup. Even on Easter? Yup. Even in front of church leaders? Yup. Even with creepy pastor groupies?…Especially then, son, especially then. This doesn’t mean they go around throwing out personal information at inappropriate times, just that they have permission to speak freely when it’s called for.
Then we told them to be open, to stay receptive to new ideas, and old ones, always, even if it makes them uncomfortable. This advice was not directed at any one child, but to all three, faithful or doubting, because it is too damn easy for us to settle on false ideas and call them Truth, even -and maybe especially – Biblical Truth. What’s that one saying? “Don’t believe everything you think.” …Yeah, that. We could probably all benefit by practicing a little bit more of that kind of cognitive humility (emphasis Jamie’s).

They also said that they should honor their parents, stay in conversation, and respect the choices others have made. This seems to be another good lesson for Christian Universities. We should allow our students to experience God at their own pace. Clearly we want them to be people of deep faith but not fake faith. My senior students regularly reflect on the sense of performance that is involved in attending a Christian institution. Maybe an approach of “cognitive humility” allows for the authenticity that is too often missing. But their questions should never be dismissive or snarky. They shouldn’t negate the faith commitments of others or the institution. But they also shouldn’t bury their important questions. It does us no good for our students to play at faith only to abandon it post-graduation.

Then there are the articles about “trigger warnings“. Karen Swallow Prior had an excellent piece in The Atlantic (which has been on a real roll lately!). She contrasts political correctness of the past with “empathetic correctness” today.

While political correctness seeks to cultivate sensitivity outwardly on behalf of those historically marginalized and oppressed groups, empathetic correctness focuses inwardly toward the protection of individual sensitivities. Now, instead of challenging the status quo by demanding texts that question the comfort of the Western canon, students are demanding the status quo by refusing to read texts that challenge their own personal comfort (emphasis mine).

While I’m a bigger fan of E.J. Dionne than David Brooks (Karen goes the other way), there’s still significance in what she says. Another take on the trigger warning conversation is this piece from the Chronicle of Higher Ed. The author is a German professor and psychiatrist.

It would be much more useful for faculty members and students to be trained how to respond if they are concerned that a student or peer has suffered trauma. Giving members of the college community the tools to guide them to the help they need would be more valuable than trying to insulate them from triggers. Students with unusually intense responses to academic cues should be referred to student-health services, where they can be evaluated and receive evidence-based treatments so that they can participate fully in the life of the university (emphasis mine).

Discussions about difficult topics (Flannery O’Connor, the Holocaust, Same-sex marriage, Biblical scholarship) are part and parcel of higher education regardless of its Christian orientation. But Christian institutions have too long operated in fear of the parent,  pastor, trustee, or pundit who e-mails the president (or a random list of churches) asking “what kind of Christian institution has our students read ___________?)” demanding a stop to the instruction and potentially the removal of the faculty member.

Rather, we need to see that difficult topics are part of growth. The questions are important (and should be treated with intellectual humility). The student’s growth is to be respected (at whatever pace they are moving — or not). And we must be up front about what it means to be educational institutions who believe God is in control.

These are the ideas that have been kicking around in my brain for a long time. If we are to move the conversation away from the Cedarville, Bryan, and Bob Jones examples we will need to build a more robust case for how that educational form can work.

One of the advantages of living in the midwest is that I’m surrounded by Christian universities. A quick count suggests that there are about a dozen within three hours of where I am. I am asking my colleagues at institutions in Michigan, Indiana, and Ohio if they are willing to gather in some central location (like Fort Wayne) for a day to explore these questions. It may be easier to do this across institutions than in any specific institution. I’ll be contacting some of you directly and you can bring all of your questions as well.

 

 

Millennial Canaries

Canary

If you’ve been anywhere near the internet this week, you know that the topic of the week (other than Reza Aslan’s new book) is about millenials leaving the church. Rachel Held Evans wrote a nice summary of work by David Kinnaman and others. Combining that research with her own reflections, she attempted to clarify the issues: attitudes toward homosexuals, combativeness, unwilling to address doubt. She summarizes a nice piece that documented how young evangelicals are attracted to liturgical churches. Part of Rachel’s concern was that too many in the religious sphere have responded to millennial concerns as the need for better marketing or hipper bands. Maybe we need more 60 year old pastors preaching in skinny jeans and hipster glasses.

The response has been somewhat surprising. Mainliners said that Rachel’s issues were only true for evangelicals and that what she called for was present in the Methodist church. Other evangelicals responded that millenials needed to listen to their elders and recognize that the church isn’t supposed to deal with a narcissistic group of twenty-somethings who grew up thinking they were special.

Jonathan Fitzgerald wrote a clever piece today on how the real question is about involvement. How do millenials find places of connection within the local congregation? The question of involvement raises the questions that Michelle Van Loon has been exploring — that 40-somethings show lower levels of engagement in their local churches than was true a decade ago. Michele summarized her thinking in this podcast.

Here’s what I’m thinking. Millenials are the canary in the coal mine of modern protestantism. As part of the entire RHE flurry, Chris Morton posted this interesting piece about what would characterize a millennial church.  But when I read Chris’ piece, I realized THAT’S WHAT I WANT IN A CHURCH. Last week I read this wonderful piece by Jamie (the Very Worst Missionary) reporting on a church she’d attended in Central America. Called “Doing it Wrong”, Jamie critiques our assumptions about modern American worship services. And again I said, THAT’S WHAT I WANT IN A CHURCH.

What this tells me is that the issues millenials are raising are not about them. They’re about the spectator elements of modern worship: music done FOR you, auditorium seating, anonymity, lack of engagement in questions of faith. I’ve felt this before. Slightly disconnected from a congregation. So what’s different with my generation? Why didn’t we respond like the millenials?

We didn’t do that because it was assumed you’d stay loyal to a local congregation. Maybe this is a holdover from geographically based parish life or ethnically identified denominations. We stuck it out, not because it was okay but because we didn’t want to be deviant.

Today things are different. The percentage of adults who are non-religious (not affiliating, not attending, not caring) is higher than it’s ever been. Questions about the legitimacy of religion in modern life are regularly raised not just by Dawkins but by folks writing comments on any  webpage that barely mentions religion.

The world is changing. We may not be in a post-Christian society, But it’s clear that we’re entering a period where being Christian is not the default assumption. It’s a time where we will need to engage in far more dialogue and do much less arguing. I’ve been reading Ed Cyzewski’s Coffeehouse Theology. He addresses the implications of postmodernity for today’s church. The same sentiments were raised by Nate Pyle a couple of days ago. Nate nails it: “unless we want a new wineskin, we don’t want something new.”

The conversation begun by David Kinnaman, Gabe Lyons, Christian Smith, Diana Butler Bass, and others dovetails with the changing trends in religious participation in America. We may wish things were the way they used to be, but that’s not coming back.

We need to pay attention to the millennial concerns. Not because they’re spoiled kids who need to grow up. Not because the church needs to be hip. But because they grew up in postmodern culture. Engaging postmodern religion through the lens of the millenials will help the church of 2020 proclaim the Gospel to a complex and confusing world.

The millenials are the canary in the religious mine. We can ignore them and call them spoiled. But if we do that, we lose our ability to engage future generations. These demographic changes aren’ going to change and we need to respond with faith, compassion, intelligence, and authenticity. We need the millenials to insure the future quality of the church. In the end, it’s the church I want to be a part of.

Listening to my Youngers

Over the past six months, I’ve been reading a steady diet of Young Evangelical blogs and books. I have the sense that they’re all either side of 30, which puts them behind me by over a quarter century. Some I found on Facebook. Others I found through reading other people’s blogs and seeing who they cite. I read folks my age as well, but that’s the subject for another post.

I’m reluctant to start listing people because 1) I know I’ll leave people out and 2) I’m finding new people every day. But let me mention some anyway: Rachel Held Evans, Jamie the Very Worst Missionary, Jenny Rae Armstrong, Lana, Morgan Guyton, Jonathan Fitzgerald and Carson T. Clark (no blog at the moment but good FB stuff). You should take a serious look. They are asking important questions and thinking of faith in vital and significant ways. Many have reflected deeply on an upbringing that focused on knowing answers without really pondering questions. Now that they are in their 30s, they are finding the means of exploring the questions and testing whether the answers work.

My reading has taught me a few things. First, they have a high view of scripture as the Word of God. That view is high enough that they aren’t afraid of asking difficult questions in its presence. They trust God with their questions and confidently believe that God will show them Truth.

Second, they have a high degree of compassion for those outside the evangelical fold. This is why they write on topics like gay rights or religious nones. They have made it a point to interact with those from different backgrounds and commitments and attempted to write with those individuals in mind.

Third, they are essentially hopeful about God’s work in contemporary society. There’s not a slippery-slope argument in the bunch. No looking back wistfully at Mayberry (maybe Common Perks on Friends, but that’s a different thing). They see change in society as something to be engaged — not blindly embraced but not attacked either.

In a word, they are believers in Grace. The see God extending it all around us and are smart enough to extend it to others as well. Even those older bloggers who dismiss them or call them names.

One of the great things about surrounding yourself with college students all the time is that their optimism is contagious. I see what they hope for their future and how they engage the world. And I’m confident that in another decade they’ll be impressing me with their writing as well. When I listen to them, I learn stuff. And I find that the world is a better place. Far better than grasping a sour vision of a world in despair.

I read folks my age as well. They do great work. I’ll give them a shout-out in a future post. I’m probably way more selective in the older list. Too many of today’s leaders make me mad. But enough of them open windows to the soul to let me know that we older folks can learn a lot by listening to our youngers.

The Optimism of Careful Conversation

Tomorrow’s sociological theory class is about Jurgen Habermas.

How’s that for a conversation starter? Actually, reading up on Habermas helped me make some connections with practices we need in the church, our colleges, and our politics. It came at a good time when I was dealing with high degrees of frustration about communication.

Yesterday former ambassador, presidential candidate, and conservative pundit Alan Keyes spoke on Spring Arbor’s campus. I didn’t go to the lunch (it cost money) but I did attend the open discussion in the afternoon. We had a couple of interactions that I’ve written about on Facebook. I want to be clear — I have no objection to having conservative speakers on our campus. Both Shane Claiborne and Tony Campolo did chapel this spring and were well received.

What troubled me about Ambassador Keyes was the way he made his arguments. Not just loud and ideologically driven, they actually made it hard to follow the argument due to the sheer number of loosely connected ideas. On many occasions, I felt that it would be good to hit the “pause and rewind” button to review the logical connection that was being made. Because many in the crowd liked his conclusions, it seemed the way he got there was less important.

The same thing happens to some liberal pundits. They are so intent on making their derisive points about conservatives that they don’t make good argument.

It happens in churches. Thanks to a tweet from Rachel Held Evans today, I learned of this story of Tim Keller’s speech at the Gospel Coalition. According to the author (and commenters who were there), Keller suggested that one of the major obstacles to true revival was related to young people having premarital sex. I’m not advocating for premarital sex, but the issues of today’s culture cannot be handled in such a reductionistic fashion. There are a host of issues related to the authentic questions young evangelicals are asking. Sex is a minor one. As Jamie the Very Worst Missionary wrote, sex is a big deal but not the biggest deal. I’m reminded of the argument Putnam and Campbell made in American Grace: that the rise of evangelicalism was in part a push back against sexual freedom of the 1960s. It proved not to be enough of an argument over the long run.

Politicians’ “discourse” seems intent on stating their preferred positions (especially those favored by the gerrymandered constituency). Politicians and pundits caricature the other side, distort their positions, and make speeches in front of empty house chambers in order to cut YouTube videos.

Which brings me back to Habermas. His project in the latter part of the last century involved the connections between quality communication and civil society. He makes some remarkable claims. First, he suggests that there is a form of Objective Truth and that we can attend to a reality not dependent upon our personal opinions. Second, he affirms the possibility of intersubjectivity — that we can understand another’s position even if we disagree with it. Third, our conversation must avoid both coercion and ideology. Finally, by practicing careful conversation that attends to the other and respects the value of their position, we begin to weave together a civil society.

I’m reminded of a book I read long ago by defense attorney Jerry Spence. It was called How to Argue and Win Every Time. It was a little slight of hand: he really suggested that if you made your argument so carefully that the other fully understood, that constituted a win. I still find it helpful.

I don’t know if Spence read Habermas, but I like the continuity. We must learn to speak in ways that carefully engage the other’s legitimate position, examine complexity in place of shibboleths, and think about how our argument will be heard. These are important liberal arts skills directly related to critical thinking.

Our colleges do best when we figure out how to handle diverse positions. Our politics do best when they are addressing the complexity required to pursue the common welfare. Our churches do best when we can affirm God’s Story without minimizing the complexity of His work in the contemporary world.

I needed to hear Habermas today. He will keep my optimism alive for at least another week.