So, one of the things I do with my class is I try to start every class, while they’re filing in at 7.50 or so, with a song that quasi-relates to the theme of the day. For example, today, we’re talking about “Authority in the Church”, what it’s comprised of, where it comes from, etc. Today’s song, thus, is one of the best songs about questioning religious authority there is: “Rock the Casbah” by The Clash. For the rise of early Christianity, since it has to do with Jesus being the fulfillment of pagan philosophical systems, I’m playing “Chocolate Jesus” by Tom Waits.
I’ve offered bonus points to the class to help me come up with songs for future classes, but so far, very few takers. And so, I turn to the world-wide-web for help. I’ve posted the syllabus here; any suggestions for upcoming class dates are welcome.
At Kevin’s suggestion, one of the first things I did for class was have my students tell me a little bit about where they’re coming from with regards to the Christian faith. To give them an easy ten points, I had them do a page or so telling me about where they and Christianity stand. At a religiously-affilliated university, this is nothing less of a loaded question. Or is it?
When I was in undergrad, the assumption was that everyone was not only Christian, but Baptist; not only Baptist, but evangelical. The weekly Praise and Worship event became a fairly politicized event, in that it became a rallying point around which this vision of the campus could be communicated. I’m not saying that this was entirely detrimental, but like any political event, it tends towards creating one version of the campus that implicitly marginalize other versions. If you were liturgical or Catholic or traditional, P&W was not going to be your place. And by proxy, I wonder now if OBU could even have been their university.
Accordingly, I love being at Baylor, where there is a milder sense of confessionalism. By that, I mean that the university is confessionally Christian, building the faith into the university’s goals, or rather, building the university in such a way that it fleshes out Christian faith. This is a very Protestant way of thinking about the question, (that faith is something which needs a concrete form–but this is a very long rabbit trail) but I appreciate the intentionality of it. Due to size, or the Baptist belief in soul competency, or maybe because Baylor is part of the Big 12–home of UT, Texas A&M and other bastions of Keystone Light–it tends to draw tons of folks that are neither Baptist nor Christian in any strong sense. Some days I miss the coherency of a small Arkansas Baptist school, where all things point in one direction, but most days, I love the diversity of where I am more.
The assignments came back staggeringly different than I had anticipated. Only two students in my intro class identified as Baptist. The rest: Catholic, non-denominational, Methodist, agnostic, Pentecostal, Jehovan’s Witness, National of Islam, and not that interested. At the world’s most prestigious Baptist institution, there are hardly any Baptists in my little cross-section of the campus. For teaching purposes, of course, this really complicates pretty much every lecture I will give. No longer can I give simply a Protestant approach to these things, but teaching requires a new sense of generosity and plurality. I can’t assume that when I say something like “sacrament” that students have any idea what I’m talking about. I can’t assume that when I say something like “The Apostles’ Creed” that my kids have any familiarity with it, or that they’ll be able to recognize it as something worth saying.
In one way, it brings a great sadness on me that these things which I find as the richest source of life are those things completely foreign to my students. But then, did I have any knowledge of them at 20? Did I know the riches of the Tradition or was I more concerned with making sure the f-stop was right on my camera? Not that the two are mutually exclusive, but then, one had nothing to do with the other. These days, one can’t help but inform the other.
It’s a complicated task, teaching the heritage of the Christian faith to a group that either is immersed in it and doesn’t know it, or feels no need to learn it. All I can do is present the internal logic of the faith the best way that I can, and hope for the best. My job is not to go for conversion, but to present the twists and ugly turnpikes of the Christian history in a way that shows why thinking and practices are hand in glove, and that the only Christianity that is is one which is arguing with itself along the road to life.
