Showing posts with label Education. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Education. Show all posts

03 January 2013

Teaching the Bible as Mythology

I remember the slight sense of fear that accompanied my first biblical studies class in college -- the challenges to fundamental doctrines I had grown up hearing, the implicit critique that many of my pastors and Sunday school teachers were either ignorant or liars, and the demand that I must, somehow, restructure my worldview to either reject religion or find some way to allow it to co-exist with post-Enlightenment rationalism. In many ways, I went to college on more sure footing than many of my classmates. While I was conservative, I had long since shed the fundamentalism that informed many of my colleagues and, more importantly, had been raised in a household dedicated to belief in the Triune God and acceptance of scientific and historical inquiry.

The tension was still there, though.

And I saw this same tension resurface in my own life and the lives of those around me during seminary -- especially in my friends who had no background in religious or biblical studies. In a class (rather creatively) titled "Teaching the Bible," I was granted the opportunity to explore this large disconnect in what we, as leaders of the Church, teach our congregants, and what we are taught in seminary.

I've long joked about "stories that didn't make the felt board" -- the pericopes that are deemed too violent or controversial to be explored in Sunday Schools and reduced to flannelgraph illustrations. The disconnect between formal theological education as presented in the Academy and the informal devotional education used in the local congregation, though, goes beyond violence and sexuality. It is symbolic of a deeper rifts between our Church, its leadership, and inquiry.

Myth and Mythopoesis
A leading reason driving these rifts is a cultural perception of mythology. In the vernacular, mythology and myths are meant simply to be "not true" or false. In that regard, hoaxes and urban legends are granted the same status as the stories told by the ancient ones -- that Beowulf, Gilgamesh, Zeus, Odin, and Arjuna hold the same weight as stories of cockroach eggs in the glue on the back of postage stamps. This conflation simultaneously gives too much credit to urban legends and robs the ancient narratives of their power. The shared status of falsehood does great harm to mythology.

Myth does so much more, though. Myths, though not necessarily factual, are true (or at least contain a seed of the truth). Urban legends seek to disguise the truth, to make it more exciting, or to spread fear, but myth reveals the very essence of love, courage, evil, life, death, fear, of humanity itself.

In Tolkien's wonderful essay "On Fairy-Stories" (for those interested, the essay is currently available in Del Rey's compendium The Tolkien Reader), he outlines what he terms mythopoesis -- the creation of mythology. (In many ways, Tolkien is working to correct the over-zealous dismissal of myth encapsulated in Frazer's The Golden Bough). In making entire worlds -- or reflections of our own world -- humanity partakes in the divine act of poesis -- that is, bringing order out of chaos: art. Creation. Mythology, then, is one of the many ways that humanity can partake in the divine creative process and bring forth truth.

Myth and Scripture
Scripture has an undeniable mythological feel about it. One need only compare Genesis 1 to the Enuma Elish, compare Genesis 6:1-4 (and the further explanation of the Nephilim in 1 Enoch) to the accounts of giants and titans spread throughout the mythological landscape, or compare Daniel 7 to accounts of Baal, or compare Christ to the other dying-rising gods. There is no way around it. And so the Church stops short. These parallels rarely find their way into sermons, Bible studies, or Sunday schools. The curriculum denies, denies, denies.

In denying the mythological character of Scripture, Church leaders are relegating all of mythology to be "not true" and denying the power of mythopoesis. In doing so, not only are they forced to ignore the significant parallels between other mythologies and Scripture and the advances of biblical criticism in the modern era, but they also deny the power of myth testifying to the Truth.

For Tolkien, the most significant part of mythology was that all of human creation was pointing to one event: the Incarnation. He called this the Eucatastrophe: the point at which the story takes a sudden turn for the best. Myths end with this sudden turn; Tolkien calls it "the Great Escape: the Escape from Death." Just think of Campbell's outline of the Hero Journey: every hero must fall, but then comes back. That is the Eucatastrophe. "The eucatastrophic tale is the true form of fairy-tale, and its highest function." All myths point to Creation and the human role in shaping this world. And in doing so, they foreshadow the dying-rising god and ultimately point to the glory of the Incarnation and the Resurrection. Myth reveals truth which prepares the way for the Truth.

Madeleine L'Engle took Tolkien a step further, suggesting that all art is inherently Christian art. CS Lewis took Tolkien's understanding to be the key to believing in Christ in the modern era: that in Christ, mythology and history collided in a single eucatsrophic event.

Understanding myth in this way reveals something that comparative historical work can only hint at. It reveals the deeper meaning running throughout human history and God's work throughout all of humanity -- culminated in the person of Jesus the Christ. It provides a theological framework for the arts (perhaps why it is best expressed by artists and authors rather than theologians).

Rock on.

14 June 2007

Intro to Religious Thought (or: What They Don't Teach in Sunday School)

The academic study of religion is the most thoroughly depressing field out there. I'm pretty sure of it. It shouldn't be, but it is. They take everything you believe and show you how stupid it is to believe in it. All interpretations (at least according to my professor, and yes he means all, as in every, including those by non-believers) are wrong (yeah, he's a big fan of Nietzsche, for those who were wondering). What's weird is when you get home and realize you still believe, despite how incredible the beliefs are. There's an old joke I once heard, that if you have enough faith to still believe after going through Seminary, you have enough faith to be a preacher. I'm starting to think the same is true for religion majors. This reminds me of a mewithoutYou quote, "We have all our beliefs, but we don't want our beliefs; God of Peace, we want you."

The problem with the way we teach beliefs in modern churches is that we claim them to be fact. In the most conservative churches, it goes without question that Moses wrote the Torah, the world was created in seven days, we are the only religion to hold this view, there was a flood, we are the only people who believe in a Noah figure, the Patriarchs are all very real, we can prove that the Israelites were enslaved in Egypt, and the Bible has absolutely no contradictions, historical or otherwise. In reality, the Torah has four sources and probably more authors, our TWO accounts of creation coincide with accounts from all over the Near and Middle East, the Epic of Gilgamesh recounts a flood and an ark, there is not proof for any of the Patriarchs, least of all Joseph, who should have proof, and no proof of Israelite presence in Egypt. On top of that, the mention of iron and the Philistines should not be in the Torah, as neither would not be in Canaan until after 1200 BCE. Not to mention the fact that there are multiple versions of the texts we found at the Dead Sea, especially Isaiah, on who's prophecies much of our understanding of Jesus as Christ is based. It's quite sad to listen to the students in my class who haven't been introduced to these ideas until now. Their entire faith is shattering before them (though whether or not their faith should be based on creationism is another topic).

Then there are the ideas that nobody sees coming, no matter how progressive of a church they attended or how much study they do on their own. The idea that the Israelites worshiped multiple gods, that the Hebrew Bible affirms the existence of multiple gods, the idea that God had to wrestle a sea monster during creation, the suggestion that Noah's son slept with him while he was drunk, and the idea that Mary very possibly wasn't a virgin. Even though these ideas are not as wide-spread as the first, they'll still through you for a loop the first time you hear them.

So why isn't the Church teaching its members to think? Why is it that you don't hear these ideas until you get into the lecture hall? I'm not saying they should be a part of every sermon, but they are certainly things that older Christians should be concerned with. These are serious problems for our faith and if we want to be able to say we have a relationship with God and that we understand our faith and where it comes from, these are issues that need to be addressed.

On the issue of where our faith comes from, why is it that we don't look into the Israelite background of our faith? What makes Jesus distinct from all these other deities in the ancient world is not being born of a virgin or rising from the dead. It's the long, glorious history that culminates in Christ. Almost as if God looked around at all of these ancient cults and said, "Ha, watch this," and blew them all out of the water. If you don't learn about what distinguishes Jesus from others in the "divine man" genre of ancient history, then when you hear about these other "divinities", you face a tremendous crisis.

In Velvet Elvis, Rob Bell says our faith should be more like a spring than a brick, in that it should be flexible (and springs can be used for trampolines and to invite people to come play, where as bricks can only be used in walls, to keep people out). When we raise people to have brick-like faith, when it comes time for someone to need to reexamine their faith, it shatters. When a person whose faith is like a spring reexamines their faith, they survive. How do we make our faith like a spring? By learning about it.

Rock on.

Edit: Ben Witherington expresses his thoughts on a similar subject at his blog.
My friend Pat writes on a broader sense of Christian complacency over at Notes from Underground.

30 May 2007

Georgia to Do Away with Two Diplomas

For those who don't know, Georgia high schools have previously offered two different seals on high school diplomas. One is the college prep seal. The meaning behind this seal is obvious: the courses the student has completed courses to get ready for college. The second seal is a vocational seal. Students take standard math and English classes, geography, and such, but instead of going into advanced classes, such as the upper maths and sciences, and some history classes, they take courses in welding, carpentry, auto repair, and computer sciences (to name a few). The seal, at least at my old high school, required that they take three classes from the same group (three consecutive welding classes, for example). Most of my friends who were on this track planned on going on to trade schools and working in construction or car shops.

The two seals had a few basic requirements in common: English composition, basic maths and sciences, and introductory social sciences. They then gradually moved apart as the college-bound prepared for their trek to higher learning and the future manual-laborers learned the general practices of their trade. Obviously, this system was not perfect, as both could probably stand a little more in the way of foreign language instruction and practical mathematics (money management classes, things such as balancing a check book and keeping a budget).

The high school I attended for the first two years, Bradwell Institute, also offered a dual seal, meaning that the recipient took classes in both the upper-level arts and sciences and in technical areas (a fourth seal, the college prep honors seal went to those who took the honors and AP college prep classes).

The state, though, has decided that the vocational diploma discriminates between rural and urban schools, and on account of race and income level. Because of this, they plan to do away with it, saying that students need to be held to the same standard.

I am all for equality. But specialized education is also essential. You don't see them arguing for the removal of honors classes in Georgia. It is not just unreasonable, but also harmful to the students. Instead of wasting the future mechanic or hair-stylist's time with the Calc, Physics, and European History, put them in the classes that will prepare them for what they want to do. We say we want to prepare them for college, but they aren't going to college. We say we want to prepare them for life, but we are wasting their time with stuff they don't need. Our current education philosophy here in the US seems to be get everybody ready to go to Georgia Tech, MIT, and other technology centers, to prepare us for the future and global economy. I first call into doubt the idea of devoting our lives to technology, lest the Matrix come about voluntarily. But I do enough of that in other posts. Here I focus on becoming so single-minded in education that we have tunnel vision. Where will the dreamers go, the philosophers, theologians, and those who practice the arts, the writers, painters, and musicians, the performers and photographers? And those upon whose toil society is built in the most literal sense and whose sweat keeps life running like a well-oiled machine, what will become of them? Our way of life is built upon diversity, starting education. Let us keep it that way.

I have always lifted Georgia's dual-diploma system up as an example of what good education looks like. Teaching students what they want to learn and preparing them for what they want to do. I sincerely hope that this system stays in place.

For those in Georgia, please write to the Department of Education. Let them know how vital this program is.

Rock on.