Classes started this week . . . well, a class started this week. I'm taking four but three of them are on Monday and Tuesday and since classes didn't begin until Wednesday I've only attended one class so far. There's been some other things I did this week: purchased a printer, figured out issues with my fellowship, went to institute and a theatre grad student party in the same night, accepted an invitation to go to a book club, started reading homework. All in all a nice mix of socializing and pre-semester studying. I also finished the last season of Mad Men on Netflix and started watching Downton Abbey.
If it is ever suggested on NPR's Pop Culture Happy Hour Podcast, I'm gonna watch it.
But the main activity recurring throughout this week that I feel impressed to write about right now was my experiences with a concerted effort to participate in an engaging scripture study. I find that now that I don't teach Sunday School, the focus of my efforts dissipated. I figured, for now, I would forget that I was released and I studied the lessons for Sunday School and Priesthood lessons as though I were to teach them. I didn't make lesson plans, but I read the information as if I were going to. The lesson for Sunday School is supposed to be on the first six chapters of 1st Corinthians. In addition to reading those chapters, I looked for further information in the institute manual on the New Testament. Then as the week went on I branched out and decided I might try my hand at preparing for future institute classes. Since Wednesday evening classes will soon switch to a study of the Old Testament, I decided to read the first chapter of the Institute student manual for the Old Testament.
Here's what I learned: I love reading and thinking about what we have as Paul's writings; I cannot stand reading institute manuals.
I wish I could convey my disdain articulately, but honestly I tried not to write them down. What I remember is every time I read them, I found myself disagreeing with what was published, felt annoyed with the sentiment, and wondered constantly if I should keep reading. Then I would go back to read Paul's epistle and there was just a very different interaction. I pondered. I reflected. I asked myself introspective questions.
Honestly, what I think bothers me about the Institute manuals rests in a topic I always tend to reflect on, but one which came specifically into focus since it is in part connected to an issue ostensibly raised in Paul's letter to the Corinthians: anti-intellectualism. In the epistle, Paul addresses the saints' social and doctrinal problems. They were not unified in their beliefs or their conduct. The lack of unity stemmed not only from immorality, but also disparate interpretations of the gospel. Paul points to the saints claiming that their beliefs were supported by different apostles; however, he spends quite a bit of time reflecting on knowing things by the spirit rather than learning.
As someone who self-identifies as an "intellectual," I found it interesting how my interaction with Paul's text differed so greatly from my interaction with what I was reading from LDS publications that commented on Paul's text. The former I engaged with; the latter I rejected. I think it's because I take issue with an interpretation of Paul's writings to support what I perceive as an anti-intellectual sentiment and epistemology.
I do not think that people in the Church are dumb; nor do I think that there are not intellectuals in the church or that the church is a space where intellectuals cannot reside. But I'll confess that I am concerned that in response to what I consider legitimate claims and questions posed by intellectuals from many different fields, be they scientific or philosophical, that the LDS culture (for the most part) has fostered and developed a fairly embedded anti-intellectual rhetoric that denounces the validity or purpose of questions raised rather than actually considering them. And I find that wanting.
I had a friend once who described a frustration at having his questions met with the response, "Well, is knowing that pertinent to your salvation? . . . If not, then why does it matter?" The answer may be "No. Knowing may in no way effect my salvation," but there is something highly troubling to me about shutting off the dialogue without even trying to explore the ideas.
I find CES manuals that I would like to learn from lacking the type of spiritual depth that I find in Paul's writings. Perhaps it's very reductive to assume, but I really do chalk it up to correlation. I don't turn to the manuals and expect academic articles; I don't hold them to that standard. But I do expect works that open the possibility to thought, revelation, edification. Instead, they seem very fixated on streamlining--on unifying by boxing in interpretations, delimiting them to fit a preexisting mold. And when that discussion just simply is not a correct interpretation and is presented as though it is, well that's just more unsettling.
For example, to evidence that last point, 1st Corinthians 3 and 6 both have references to bodies and temples. Neither of these scriptures have anything to do with living a temperate lifestyle as outlined by the Word of Wisdom or more recent interpretations and amendments to that revelation. Yet that is all that the church publishes on them. This troubling for at least two reasons. First, it's just wrong and sloppy; revealing that the writers are not reading the scriptures. (Which tends to be a bit hypocritical when a lot of Mormons [at least in the missionary culture I remember] like to presume that people outside of the church might know bible verses but don't read them in context and so do not understand their true meaning). Second, and more importantly, it totally eclipses Paul's very salient points about unity and community. There's an extended metaphor in 1st Corinthians 3 that is so eloquent that is completely glossed over in order to privilege a really reductive and didactic reappropriation of the scriptures.
I don't have a problem with the reappropriation, it's that it has become the only way we read and discuss the scripture. It's not that I find the principles or the beliefs of my faith stagnant or dull. However, for me, our cultural treatment and interaction with the scriptures certainly tends to be. Furthermore, it's a bit frustrating to participate in a community that harbors animosity towards your identity and profession. The ironic thing is that Paul was far from lacking education.
And as I think about it, these are two connected but somewhat different ideas: my issues with correlation and the anti-intellectual rhetoric in the church. And I haven't really touched as much on the latter. It's just weird that we have such an expressed admiration for education and people who are intelligent. I definitely do not feel ostracized for being smart; I know it's something people in the Church always expressed admiration for. Yet at the same time, there exists a resilient rhetoric that does not simply disagree with science and philosophy, but demonizes higher learning--making the acquisition of knowledge itself an Original Sin or great temptation. High reason and great sophistry can certainly be used to attack belief, but so can ignorance and misinformation. We address the latter with learning, literacy, and diligence of thought and teaching. Why should we treat the former any differently?
Here's what I learned: I love reading and thinking about what we have as Paul's writings; I cannot stand reading institute manuals.
I wish I could convey my disdain articulately, but honestly I tried not to write them down. What I remember is every time I read them, I found myself disagreeing with what was published, felt annoyed with the sentiment, and wondered constantly if I should keep reading. Then I would go back to read Paul's epistle and there was just a very different interaction. I pondered. I reflected. I asked myself introspective questions.
Honestly, what I think bothers me about the Institute manuals rests in a topic I always tend to reflect on, but one which came specifically into focus since it is in part connected to an issue ostensibly raised in Paul's letter to the Corinthians: anti-intellectualism. In the epistle, Paul addresses the saints' social and doctrinal problems. They were not unified in their beliefs or their conduct. The lack of unity stemmed not only from immorality, but also disparate interpretations of the gospel. Paul points to the saints claiming that their beliefs were supported by different apostles; however, he spends quite a bit of time reflecting on knowing things by the spirit rather than learning.
As someone who self-identifies as an "intellectual," I found it interesting how my interaction with Paul's text differed so greatly from my interaction with what I was reading from LDS publications that commented on Paul's text. The former I engaged with; the latter I rejected. I think it's because I take issue with an interpretation of Paul's writings to support what I perceive as an anti-intellectual sentiment and epistemology.
I do not think that people in the Church are dumb; nor do I think that there are not intellectuals in the church or that the church is a space where intellectuals cannot reside. But I'll confess that I am concerned that in response to what I consider legitimate claims and questions posed by intellectuals from many different fields, be they scientific or philosophical, that the LDS culture (for the most part) has fostered and developed a fairly embedded anti-intellectual rhetoric that denounces the validity or purpose of questions raised rather than actually considering them. And I find that wanting.
I had a friend once who described a frustration at having his questions met with the response, "Well, is knowing that pertinent to your salvation? . . . If not, then why does it matter?" The answer may be "No. Knowing may in no way effect my salvation," but there is something highly troubling to me about shutting off the dialogue without even trying to explore the ideas.
I find CES manuals that I would like to learn from lacking the type of spiritual depth that I find in Paul's writings. Perhaps it's very reductive to assume, but I really do chalk it up to correlation. I don't turn to the manuals and expect academic articles; I don't hold them to that standard. But I do expect works that open the possibility to thought, revelation, edification. Instead, they seem very fixated on streamlining--on unifying by boxing in interpretations, delimiting them to fit a preexisting mold. And when that discussion just simply is not a correct interpretation and is presented as though it is, well that's just more unsettling.
For example, to evidence that last point, 1st Corinthians 3 and 6 both have references to bodies and temples. Neither of these scriptures have anything to do with living a temperate lifestyle as outlined by the Word of Wisdom or more recent interpretations and amendments to that revelation. Yet that is all that the church publishes on them. This troubling for at least two reasons. First, it's just wrong and sloppy; revealing that the writers are not reading the scriptures. (Which tends to be a bit hypocritical when a lot of Mormons [at least in the missionary culture I remember] like to presume that people outside of the church might know bible verses but don't read them in context and so do not understand their true meaning). Second, and more importantly, it totally eclipses Paul's very salient points about unity and community. There's an extended metaphor in 1st Corinthians 3 that is so eloquent that is completely glossed over in order to privilege a really reductive and didactic reappropriation of the scriptures.
I don't have a problem with the reappropriation, it's that it has become the only way we read and discuss the scripture. It's not that I find the principles or the beliefs of my faith stagnant or dull. However, for me, our cultural treatment and interaction with the scriptures certainly tends to be. Furthermore, it's a bit frustrating to participate in a community that harbors animosity towards your identity and profession. The ironic thing is that Paul was far from lacking education.
And as I think about it, these are two connected but somewhat different ideas: my issues with correlation and the anti-intellectual rhetoric in the church. And I haven't really touched as much on the latter. It's just weird that we have such an expressed admiration for education and people who are intelligent. I definitely do not feel ostracized for being smart; I know it's something people in the Church always expressed admiration for. Yet at the same time, there exists a resilient rhetoric that does not simply disagree with science and philosophy, but demonizes higher learning--making the acquisition of knowledge itself an Original Sin or great temptation. High reason and great sophistry can certainly be used to attack belief, but so can ignorance and misinformation. We address the latter with learning, literacy, and diligence of thought and teaching. Why should we treat the former any differently?
6 comments:
You know, I think this is the first time I've gone through this lesson and had the teacher focus so much on what divides (or potentially divides) us as a church and how we can become more unified as an eternal family. It was pretty cool. I wish I'd had you as a Sunday School teacher--I know I would have loved it.
Happy Sabbath!
Thanks Natalia. That sounds like a decent if not fantastic Sunday School lesson. Mine was okay, though it tended to run along the usual paths without that kind of focused effort to apply an element explored in the scripture to contemporary and relevant circumstances like it sounds your class had. I think a discussion about what divides or potentially divides our communities is a great one to have. What were some of the things that were mentioned or discussed?
I wish you were our Sunday School teacher. Not to say ours is bad, he's just not very engaging. I haven't had a truly engaging and spiritual Gospel Doctrine lesson like since my mission I think. :/ Today I recall one thing the teacher said that I liked and that rang true.
It's funny, our Sunday School teacher said the same thing about the lesson, he being a comparative literature guy. The anti-intellectual trend is destructive, but then I don't really feel that way... maybe it's just because of my field (most people I encounter in the Church tend not to be anti-science), or the specific context that I'm in (a member of the branch presidency is an internationally respected sociology professor at a top-ranked school), or the way that I filter information individually (maybe I just don't notice people being out and out against intellectual questions). That said, I will say that I've seen a trend which, while not expressly antagonistic toward intellectual approaches, isn't exactly encouraging. No one's ever told me that my interlinear New Testament (which Dave gave me for my birthday a few years ago) is a waste of my time, but they don't think that it's worth enough of their time to start reading it themselves. People are overly satisfied with B. H. Roberts for history, but, while fantastic for doctrine, it doesn't give us the full history. My experience may not have been anti-intellectual, but neither has it exactly encouraged intellectual discussion of the Gospel or the Church. Perhaps, following 1 Corinthians 2, there's something about this that's right: A leader shouldn't focus his attention on the intellectual side of things at the expense of relying on the testimony of the Holy Ghost. But you're absolutely right that a lot of depth is lost by failing to dig deeper, and dismissing a question as "not essential" is, unless perhaps the issue will only distract from answering questions which are essential, detrimental, and possibly a breach of the commandment to gain as much knowledge as possible.
Jacob, out of curiosity, have you followed what Jon Huntsman has said about the Republican party recently? I read a NYTimes editorial discussing the trend within the Republican Party to either apply or appeal to an anti-science rhetoric with issues like climate change or origins of homosexuality. And I'll be honest that that was present when I was thinking about this subject (anti-intellectualism) this week. Obviously I know plenty of fascinatingly brilliant Republicans and it's not a requirement of the party but it does seem odd or disconcerting that a major political party would adopt such an anti-intellectual persona in significant debates with worldwide consequences. Wonder if you had any thoughts on that?
And you're right. I don't think that Sunday School should be transformed into a space ruled by the dictates and paradigms of either historical or literary disciplines. I don't have a problem with a reappropriation of the scripture in order to achieve a knowledge of truth testified to by the spirit. I'm concerned that we apply one reapproriation, only teach that (repeatedly), and by default discount other possible ways of knowing spiritual truths that bring unity to our communities. Sunday Schools shouldn't be history or literature classes; but they do need to spiritual schools of development and revelation.
Once upon a time, we had a class together in which we studied the second half of the New Testament. I'm sure you remember it. I don't know how you enjoyed the class in general, but it was easily the most rewarding, satisfying religion class I took at BYU. There were a lot of things I learned in that class, and it helped me open my eyes both to the New Testament and to reading the scriptures in general.
At the beginning of the class, our professor made a point of explaining exegesis vs. eisegesis. She said she would focus mainly on the history and the words themselves (exegesis) instead of taking the scripture to apply a meaning to it. She said that this is what people usually do in sacrament talks: introduce a topic/point of doctrine, grab a single verse (out of a chapter/epistle/etc. full of history and context), and throw it out there -- whether it was how it was originally meant or not.
I'm sure this is how they write the Sunday School lessons. Every year, whether it's BoM/OT/NT/D&C, there's going to be a lesson on law of chastity, word of wisdom, tithing, sacrament, baptism, etc., and they're going to fit it in somewhere, even if that wasn't what the authors of the scriptures were saying in the first place. Since the primary focus is to hit the doctrinal points once a year, the teaching of any of the bodies of scripture becomes more of an eisegesis rather than an exegesis.
This is terribly unfulfilling to an intellectual. Even though I easily enjoy my Sunday School hour most during my current three-hour block (teacher is very skilled, is perfect for the class he has), I feel the same urge to actually see what Paul is saying, rather than follow the day's theme through a hodge-podge of verses thrown together. I can understand, though, the need to reinforce the doctrine for a class (an entire church?) full of relatively new members of the church.
(At the same time, Paul was talking to new members too, and I kind of wish the new members could learn at least a little bit of what Paul is saying to them rather than just the doctrine extracted from throughout. I think Sunday School could benefit from more exegetical study... Problem is, you need -- well -- an intellectual ;) Hope you get to be a seminary teacher someday or something.)
(Thanks for sharing your struggle. My current struggle is with an overabundance of those "good-advice-lessons" that just ramble (not focus) on good things to do rather than, say, teaching anything at all out of the scriptures or the Ensign or anything related to the Gospel at all...)
(OK, useless rambling over. I know there are holes in what I said earlier, but I'm too lazy to go back and fill it out. You get the general gist of what I'm saying.)
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