Teaching Theology

Don’t tell your students the truth

Let me say at the beginning that keeping the truth from your students is a good idea. Students don’t deserve the truth just by registering for the course. Some sit there in front of you thinking that they do; that they have spent good money to buy the truth and now you should deliver; that your job is to give them the product they have purchased.

But if they want truth, you should make them work for it. Teaching theology is not just saying things that are true. It is helping students see and experience the truth for themselves. You are not there to convey them up the mountain on the ski  lift of your lecture but to help them climb the mountain for themselves, with you beside them and holding the rope.

Or, to put it another way, you are not a rich kind uncle, but a poor cunning educator. You are helping them with a process not giving them presents. The earlier in a lecture you give them the truth as a present, the less of the educative process you are able to conduct.

And sometimes the best way to the truth is through what is not true, so why not sit on the edge of the desk, look them in the eye and show them the power of the arguments for the wrong position? Lead them up the garden path and, when it is clear that all they have arrived at is the compost heap, guide them back and show them the right way forward.

Now, I know that there is a role of truth telling in theological education. Truth has been entrusted to us and we have to be faithful stewards of that truth. But students also have been entrusted to us and we must attend to their development into thoughtful theologians and Christians as well as filling their back packs with the golden bricks of theology. We do them no favours for the future unless we show them that there will be a difficult theological task to be done throughout their ministries – enabling the Word of God to speak into the complicated and varied situations they encounter, thoughtfully and with power. And it would be good to get into the habit of thinking deeply about it now.

This has relevance, not just for future ministry, but also for the classroom situation in the present. If you want your lectures to be “interesting”, it will not be enough to show lots of funny, pretty pictures on the screen. You will have to lead your students into the dangerous dark wood of ideas. Or to use yet another metaphor in this already ridiculously metaphor-laden article, you are the ship pilot whose job is to take them out into the storm before you lead them into the harbour – since that is the best way for them to understand the harbour. Now that is interesting, and a lot of fun for both sides of the desk.

But there again, maybe much that is in this little article is not true, just an example of what we are talking about.

Kissing and theological education

At first sight, these two pleasurable activities do not seem to have anything in common so let me say first what I am not trying to say. The management mantra KISS (Keep It Simple, Stupid) is of little use when you try to apply it to such a complicated task as theological education, except in a very reductionist way. Nor do I wish to fall into the contemporary trap of using sentimental or even romantic language to describe our relationship with God. So, what do I mean?

The Poet Robert Bridges speaks of a kiss as “passion with peace” – and anyone who has had a loved one in their arms knows exactly what he means when he talks of this strange combination of feelings.

Not that we encounter either of these, that often, in the classroom. However together, just as they best describe a good kiss, so they also describe good teaching. Am I pressing the analogy too far? Maybe a little tongue-in-cheek? I don’t think so. They are the two things students recognise quickly and to which they most enthusiastically respond.

Passion for the subject is well documented as a key component of teaching which produces good learning. It makes possible, even inevitable, the interest of the class. And almost always some of the passion for the subject rubs off on the students.

Peace? Yes, certainly. It is the sense that you, the teacher, are there where you should be, at peace with yourself and the students – that you don’t fear the students or their questions but you are peacefully open them. Even that you are having a good time. This is a key pre-condition for student engagement and enjoyment.

If I was to give two fundamental reasons why teaching doesn’t work, they would be a lack of passion for the subject and a lack of peace in the teacher.

Now, all this is a far cry from the crude measurement of the feedback forms we usually use at the end of a module. These assess the quality of our notes, our timekeeping, how comprehensively we cover the subject, our use of visual aids (even if they are more of an impediment than of use) and so on. They generally miss all the important things which make teaching outstanding – a bit like a kiss reported on afterwards using a feedback form!

In this new year of 2013, maybe we can all look for more “passion with peace” in our lives as well as our teaching.

Most theological colleges are mostly happy places most of the time. However, experienced theological educators know that they can easily be damaged by anger, which is rarely too far away.

Henri Nouwen talks about the quiet internal anger of many ministers –their congregations are not responding to teaching and leading, not changing, even becoming a weight on the minister’s life and feelings. In the same way, lecturers can nurse anger towards students who do not care, are not trying, have little commitment to the subject they love, perhaps do not give enough respect, and above all do not allow the teacher to feel fulfilled. Often the job is not as we would like, it and which lecturer does not know the occasional quiet anger at so much administration these days?

But students also have problems with angerl. Recently, I conducted a poll to try and discover not just what students in class were thinking but what they were feeling as well. Anger came out as an issue. Mostly the anger was directed at other students disrupting classes by coming in late, doing emails in class, and so on. Occasionally anger is directed at the college; students invest a lot of precious money in a course these days and sometimes they are cross that they are not getting all they should, especially if a college is struggling.

Leaders – Principals and Rectors – are often tired and have plenty of tensions which can easily spill over into anger. Looking over the fence at more successful colleges can take the route from envy to anger – even towards God and his calling for them. Petty disputes in the staff or too much selfishness can cause sleepless nights and angry days.

Inter-staff anger is possibly the most common. Crossness with our colleagues, whether in leadership over us or not, is the hazard of every organisation and there are those who would say especially of Christian ones. Some of it is because of badly defines job descriptions, some of it is personality, some of it is problems in the lives of those involved, some an inability to tolerate weaknesses in others.

How do we deal with anger in a Christian way? Ephesians 4.26 is not just useful for married couples;

“In your anger, do not sin, do not let the sun go down while you are still angry.”

Three things are said here. Firstly, anger is not in itself a sin. It is a human condition. It can also be righteous anger, for the sake of the kingdom, as with Jesus when he cleansed the temple. You have to say, though, that there are few anger situations in which there is nothing of self.

Secondly, in an occasion of anger, for instance in a college, there is great potential to sin – gossip, unkindness, party spirit, lack of humility, are all there in the wings waiting to come on stage. It must be the Christian task of everyone to ensure that anger does not spill over into sin, so far as it lies with them. Not an easy thing to do when you remember that sin occurs in our thought life as well.

Thirdly, we are asked to work for a quick resolution to the situation of anger – in ourselves and with the other person if relevant. Momentary anger is human. Nursed, continuing anger is horrible, for us and for those with whom we are angry and it harms the work of God in a college.

Let us hope that not too many people get cross with me for raising the subject.

Being Human

If there is one little piece of theology all theological educators need to know about, it is anakephalaiosis or, if you prefer the Latin to the Greek, recapitulatio. But first let us take a step back a little and say why.

The tendency in our institutions is to contrast the human with the spiritual. We say that our job is to help the spiritual formation of the student – and what a shame that the human side of them gets in the way. Indeed, we say that the students are “only human” when talking about disciplinary proceedings.

Now there is a school of thought that says one needs the other. Only as you become more mature in your humanity can you become mature spiritualty and, since Pastores Dabo Vobis, this has been the accepted wisdom in the training of priests in the Roman Catholic Church. But I doubt that this is the correct relationship between the two – after all, as no less a theologian than George Lindbeck points out, some at least of the great saints of the past could not have been described as mature human beings and calls Francis of Assisi to witness[1]. But perhaps they were human beings as intended by God.

We must, of course, distinguish between humanity and sin. Even though they seem to have been mixed up in a complicated way after the fall, it is far too easy to just throw the baby out with the bathwater and avoid both sin and humanity, which is what we have often been guilty of doing.

Anakephalaiosis says that Christ re-headed humanity and so redeemed it. He was the second Adam, restoring, sanctifying and exemplifying what it means to be human. As Athanasius so beautifully puts it. The image of God was defaced in humanity so, just as it is necessary when a portrait is badly defaced for the original sitter to come back and sit for its restoration,  the second person of the trinity, in whose image we humans had been created, came in the incarnation to sit for the restoration of that image of God in humanity.

Therefore, the highest spirituality is to be human as God intended. That expresses the very image of God in us, the very imitation of Christ. Now, there are two big consequences of this truth for theological educators;

Firstly, let us rejoice in the humanity of our students and encourage it. Fun, joy, satisfaction in work and pleasure in relationships, peace in nature, honour, reality and a good laugh – along with much more. We must be teaching our students the godliness of these things.

Secondly, this truth has implications for our curriculum. If true humanity is true spirituality, then the study of society and culture, history and literature, even  politics and psychology, are no longer in the curriculum to help us understand them, those to whom we need to preach the gospel, but become a part of understanding us, what we should be. And the riches of the best of our history and culture, where even non-Christian writers have sometimes seen clearly what is true and glorious about humanity, become helps to our spirituality.

Humanity and spirituality are not two separate things existing in opposition in our colleges and seminaries. Ultimately they are the same thing. How I wish I had been told that when I was at college. Students in our colleges are often just at the point of trying to understand themselves as human beings with all the emotions and longings that involves – and debating how all this relates to their spiritual lives. Of course that relationship is complicated but this truth is a vital piece of the puzzle.

You can be sure that your students are watching you to see not just what sort of teacher, or even what sort of Christian, but what sort of man or woman you are. And they are right to do so.

The Lead Climber

Once we agree that it is the relationship between the teacher and the student which is central to good teaching, there are many different analogies and models out there in the literature which we can use to understand it – such as teacher as host, midwife, friend, paraclete.

One I came across recently is particularly useful, that of the lead climber – the one who climbs the rock face first, belays the rope and then makes available his skill and the safety of his holding of the rope to those who climb after him. I saw it first in a book review of Care to Dare a book on contemporary leadershipbyKohlrieser, Goldsworth and Coombe (and one good way of describing out task vis a vis our students is leadership).

Doing biblical studies and theology as a Christian student whose previous encounter with either has mostly been sermons by their minister and talks on discipleship by their youth leader, is quite a mountain to climb. It may well be exhilarating but the rarefied atmosphere of academia is not without its dangers and there are slippery rock faces to traverse. What makes it worse is that our students generally begin their climb while only starting to learn the basic skills needed.

No model of teacher/student relationship is adequate on its own. They should be regarded as actors on the stage of understanding – sometimes one steps forward to emphasise one idea, then another, but we need them all on stage at one time or another in order for the strengths of one model to plug the weaknesses of others. The model of lead climber, however, says something we need to hear particularly carefully at the moment in theological education.

It is that “assurance of faith” is one of the key gifts we can give to our students. In the midst of academic work on scripture and theology, faith may well be challenged but there is no reason for it to take a fall. We know, we have been there. Safety can never be absolute but the skilful climber who has already done the climb and is now holding the rope above them is a re-assurance that makes their studies free and open and without fear. It encourages them to go and continue to explore. Some would prefer that we take away the difficulty of the task and the exhilaration simply by keeping their feet on the ground and telling them what to learn and believe, but that is hardly a recipe for safety because one day they may well be stuck on the mountain on their own. Better to climb it now while you are above them holding the rope.

No teacher can abdicate from the duty of care towards a student. This is especially true in respect of their faith.

Competitive Kingdom Building

At the weekend, I was told a story about Rick Warren’s statement in a US conference. He said “The most important task we have, especially for those in church leadership is to pray for the success of our neighbouring churches”.

It is, of course, simplistic and over-stated, like much of Rick Warren’s work, but does the job intended – of making us think about a competitive spirit in Christian service. No-where does the issue raise its head more than in theological education. There is a limited pool of potential students out there and theological education does function like a market, although hopefully not so much as higher education today, at least in the UK. If Jonny goes to another college in your country, he will not come to your college. If too many Jonnys and Marys make that choice, your numbers go down and you get into trouble financially. That, of course, is why we spend so much money on publicity and quality brochures and our Principals go out preaching in churches up and down the country.

And yet. If you believe in your own vision, if you have worked hard to ensure that excellent theological education is well reflected in your college, you believe that you have something special to offer students. Surely then you can rejoice that they come to you rather than to a college that does things differently and quite possible not so well. Such a stance can be taken in all humility and a desire for the glory of God.

For instance, I can imagine an inter-denominational college amid a number of denominational colleges honestly believing that, in today’s church and society with all its separations and divisions and denominationalism, it is better that the future leaders of God’s people be trained together, regardless of their denominational affiliation, and encounter differing views in students and staff as an essential part of their preparation. Colleges governed by statements of faith that prescribe views on secondary issues and live within the culture of a particular denomination may well find it hard to offer such openness that is the best atmosphere for growth and unity. (OK, comments on this paragraph are expected.)

Nevertheless, our competitiveness is damaging for two reasons. Firstly, it is the extension of a business model into theological education, where it does not belong. We are not into growth projections, fighting for market share or other management mantras which have become connected with our leadership patterns. Secondly, whatever stance the other colleges take, theological education takes place whenever a teacher stands up in front of students or relates to them in other ways. Sometimes the most inspiring, free-ing teaching takes place in the least inspiring, least free colleges!

So, should we pray for our fellow colleges, regardless of our own particular vision? Yes. If it does nothing else, such prayer is an acknowledgment that the prosperity of the Kingdom of God is more important than the success of our college. And double grace on those colleges fighting to survive in a competitive market if they are able to so do.

[My apologies to those followers of this blog who received today a post I should have sent to a website through which I am tutoring some students. I hit the wrong button.]

Being Trinity

The nature of God should determine the way we live, act as church and serve God. Colin Gunton has lamented that, whereas Christianity developed a special Christian ontology for talking about God and Christ, it never did for talking about the Church. His strategy then (after Moltmann) is to borrow Christian ontology about God in Trinity to talk about the church.

If there is something we need in theological education today (certainly part of the Church), it is a specifically Christian ontology to avoid us being so pushed around in our practice and our thinking by secular cultural and higher education patterns that we lose our soul. What then of the Trinitarian nature of theological education? This is surely much more than a happy analogy but an attempt to be distinctly Christian and reflect the very nature of God in what we do. Where would this apply? Let me state three propositions;

God is fundamentally relational. Our theological education is therefore most Christian when it is the same.

Of course, relations between the three persons of the trinity, even in their most eastern form are different from ours. They are absolute, of same nature, and exhibit a perfect unity of will, thought and intention. But they do declare that relationships are at the very heart of God’s nature. Anyone who has been in a college or seminary where theological education is not practiced through fundamentally a relational approach between teachers and students, teachers and teachers; management and staff, knows how ungodly that becomes.

God – wholly one and yet three – provides a specifically Christian pattern for understanding holistic theological education.

We are asked to practice holistic theological education but are presented with at least a tripartite taxonomy of educational objectives in the spiritual, academic and practical ministerial realms. Somehow they need to become one. The Trinitarian doctrine of perichoresis or dynamic co-inherence is a help here. It talks of the circulation of the divine life between the three, bringing each to fullness of divinity, so that when you encounter one you encounter God, in all his threeness.  The idea that spiritual objectives could bring to life academic teaching, academics could bring to life Christian service and so on, is a delightful picture of good theological education. And to ensure that when our students encounter one, they encounter in some way all three objectives is a beautiful aim.

Trinity says that mission is at the heart of the nature of God. It must therefore be at the heart of our theological education.

As Barth has pointed out, mission is at the heart of the very nature of God because the father sends the son. The mission of God comes first and we participate. To be Trinitarian is to be missional in intent and practice. We see ourselves not doing many things but one thing, participating in the great mission of God to this needy world. It is this that determines our relationship with Church, society and our students.

I know. The experience of most of us in theological education would cause us to shy away from regarding it as divine. But, to the extent that we work for it to be relational, holistic and to have fundamental mission intent, we can honestly say that it partakes of the nature of God. And to the extent that we do not, it is less than it should be.

Who lives in the real world?

Yesterday, at a short conference on assessing Masters level students, I felt rather lonely. In a small group discussion we were asked to prioritise our aims for Masters students. The other four group members aimed to develop students’ research skills, critical skills and the like. I said that I wanted students’ work to be strongly related to the ‘daily life’ (or the real world or contemporary society). When we ranked the aims, not surprisingly, mine came bottom. Feeling rather sad, I returned to the plenary. When the facilitator (Prof. Sally Brown – brilliant) asked the other groups I was stunned at one other group saying the same as me… guess who? None other than the computer scientists! As theological educators we can find both hostility and support in strange places. The ‘geeks’, whom we often assume live in virtual worlds, were actually committed to making their work wholly relevant to real life. I’m not saying that they were altruistic or driven by the betterment of humanity; I’ve no doubt that commercial funding for projects was somewhere in the back of their minds but, at least in some sense, we were moving in the same direction.

Another interesting comment came from the Gibson (no relation!) Institute for Land Food and the Environment. Their representative said that she wanted their students ‘to change the world’. I thought, ‘Here’s another fellow traveller’.  We want our student to change the world and as they go to work in Parishes, Ministries and Missions we want them to be enablers of all Christian people in our quest to change the world. Of course we don’t look for the same type of change as the Agriculturalists and Environmentalists and we are not saying that the Kingdom of God will be fulfilled in this age or by our own efforts. But if we can be fellow travellers with others, who knows what authentically missional opportunities might arise?

My third little ray of sunshine came from the school of Geography, Archaeology and Palaeoecology. The presenter’s first slide contained the following: ‘No one can serve two masters. Either he will hate the one and love the other…’ (Matthew 6:24)’. I’ve no idea whether or not the presenter was a Christian but at least she had some knowledge of the Biblical text and expected her audience to have some familiarity also.  Here again is a little link with the academic world that might be exploited by theological educators in a secular university. If we can model this sort of interaction for our students then they might be enabled to teach and model it for the Christian communities of which they are a part.

For those of us who work in secular educational contexts, let’s keep our eyes open for fellow travellers with whom we can walk, at least a little way.

Drew is professor of practical theology at Union Theological College, a constituent college of the Institute of Theology, the Queens University Belfast

Grey hair theology

How old should a theological educator be? The old adage that students keep you young and make you old all at the same time hides a few important truths.

Firstly, that much of what we do today in our classrooms is cross-cultural teaching; from the culture of an older generation of teachers to the culture of a younger group of students. Different countries and situations have varying respect for the older person, but none escape the difficulty of bridging the generation gap. In many classrooms, a teacher brought up with enlightenment attitudes to the value of theology, a generational pattern of being a Christian and a bundle of methodologies and attitudes from a previous generation, has to work hard to perform his or her job well among contemporary students. Teachers in that situation need to understand the dynamics of contextualisation, the importance of listening and humility. And, I am sorry to say, schools sometimes have to appoint younger lecturers.

Secondly, there is (or can be) a special value in older teachers. There are many ways to describe this but let me use the concept of significance. In one way, very very few people have enduring significance in a world of 6 billion people spread across a vast globe. But an enduring theological teacher, year after year influencing the lives and thoughts of students who will carry that influence into many places near and far, has a special significance.  This does not happen to all. However, there are teachers who so influence their students by the demonstration of core values of what it means to belong to and serve Christ, to think carefully and well, to be relational with students, who have a ripple effect over great historical and geographical  planes. Such a teacher, significant for these factors over a long ministry, has gained not just respect but value for their students today as demonstrations of enduring values, spiritual, academic and ministerial. And the students of their students rise up and call them blessed.

So there are two questions to be answered.

1. Am I humble enough to try to genuinely understand my students and practice as far as I can good contextual teaching?
2. Am I willing to be what I should be in myself as a Christian teacher and go on being that in front of my students year after year as a significant marker of enduring values?

Then some of our students will move from being suspicious of grey hairs to become grateful for them.

Competition

When we stand in front of students, or sit down with them, what are the burning issues in their minds? Probably not the pros and cons of dynamic Christology or a revisionist view of Thomas Cranmer.

For instance, many of our students are of an age when they are either falling in love or longing to do so. And falling in love with someone who is falling in love with you is still the most lovely, intense experience on earth (except listening to our lectures of course). Or maybe they are looking forward to a strange and little understood future and wondering about themselves, who they are and what they can do (rather than who you, the teacher, are and what you can do). We compete for the students’ attention against formidable opponents.

Looking back over my journals kept while I was at college, I note that at one time my two great concerns were whether I was called to the ministry or not and why a stunningly beautiful Portuguese girl refused to go out with me. The lectures had to compete with all that. In case you are interested, I have now been married to that beautiful girl for almost 40 years and we entered the ministry together on leaving college, all by the grace of God.

Nowadays, with a larger proportion of older students in some of our colleges, student heads and hearts are often deeply involved with home, children, finding the money to live while studying and keeping a dozen balls in the air at the same time – balancing the commitments of college, home, church, job and much else. Again, this is pretty tough competition for their attention.

And yet it can work, and it works in three ways;

Firstly, there can be an intensity about the learning experience at college or seminary which, for a while blots out all other thoughts and feelings. We speak glibly about the power of ideas but many of our students are capable of feeling that power in a glorious way. They laugh when they see something clearly, frown when their pre-suppositions are at risk, challenge statements, rush off to the library to read more. And when the ideas are theological, they touch even deeper into their hearts and minds.

Secondly, for all, but especially for the down to earth students who do not become so emotionally involved in theological ideas, we can relate what we teach to their lives, needs and feelings. What does the text under consideration say to the 21^st century 21 year old about love, relationships, faithfulness and the future? What does Christology have to say about how they regard their own human-ness?

Thirdly, as teaching in theological education is ministry of the Word, we can and should rely on the Holy Spirit to stir the heart and make useful and exciting the material we give. This does not absolve us from working at the first two issues but does say that we as teachers have a co-conspirator inside the very heart of the student to give our words power.

The competition between our teaching and the hopes, worries, loves and cares of our students is a reality and is intense. We cannot teach well without taking it into account. But I have seen that competition won, again and again, by teachers who are passionate about what they are teaching, understand the needs and thoughts of their students and see their work as ministry aided by the Holy Spirit.

Otherwise, in this most intense of daily competitions, we do not stand a chance.