kata ta biblia

a blog exploring Christian origins, biblical studies, social/cultural history, method, education and the journey through academia

Category: classes

My Fall Quarter

It’s going to be an interesting fall quarter. This fall I will be a Teaching Assistant for the first time in my UCLA career. Being a TA is a bigger deal at UCLA than it has been in my experiences as a TA at Fuller Seminary and Messiah College. You have to apply for the ability to get a TAship as if it is a fellowship and then you are assigned to a class that needs TAs. Of the available courses, I’m hoping for the first of three Western Civ. classes (ancient civilizations). Even though the system feels a little crazy, I am glad that it actually takes up four of the twelve units I need to fill.

My advisor, Bartchy, is teaching the course Religious Environment of Early Christians, which I will attend and write a paper for. I am trying to make all of my course papers relevant to my plans for a dissertation which has to do with apocalyptic thought and social identity. Perhaps I’ll write a paper on emperor worship for the course.

So, TA spot = 4 units. Bartchy class = 4 units. I’ve got four more to kill. But the thing is, I’ve been overhauling it every quarter that I’ve been at UCLA, with two major academic papers per quarter. I want make sure I don’t have any other major papers or exams. So, UCLA allows grad students to sign up for these two sort of catch-all, directed-reading kinds of classes: 596 and 597. For one, you get a grade for producing something; the other is designed for comprehensive exam prep. With that in mind, Ra’anan Boustan is allowing me to read along with his upper division undergrad seminar on martyrdom as a 597 exam prep course. It also covers material I hope to work into my dissertation.

So, this fall: teaching about ancient civilizations, writing about first-century emperor worship, and reading about ancient martyrdom . . . not to mention making sure I’m prepared to present my SBL paper :) Seems like it will be a challenging, but doable quarter.

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First Year of Ph.D. Complete

My blogging always seems to get the short end of the stick at the end of each quarter. There is just too much to do and when I’m not doing it, my brain is too fried to post anything intelligent. Yes, I know I am setting my self up for easy shots on my blogging habits there (“Unintelligent? Never stopped you before!”). Okay, so let us say, my brain has been too fried to post anything at all at the end of each quarter.

The end of this past quarter is particularly meaningful as it marks the end of my first year as a Ph.D. student and my first summer “off” in four years. After three years of year-round, full-time Fuller Seminary, I was exhausted. But I went straight into UCLA and . . . fatherhood. I’m ready for a break! Not that I’ll just be sitting around on the couch all summer long eating Bon Bons (do they still make those?). I will be working with Ra’anan Boustan on two projects: (1) a summer research mentorship grant to look into apocalyptic thought and (2) as his research assistant, indexing for a forthcoming book on religion and violence.  And I’ll also be taking care of my six month-old son. But it’s nice not to be enrolled in any classes.

But as this is the end of a challenging year, I thought I’d share some of the highlights:

  • Regular lunches in the spring quarter with my UCLA colleagues Kevin and James.
  • Meetings with my advisor, S. Scott Bartchy, sometimes debating the nature of apocalyptic thought and sometimes chatting about less academic things.
  • Having a paper accepted for SBL this fall.
  • Diving headlong into social history. I am so appreciative of my theologically oriented education at Fuller Seminary, but social history really is where I can feel my brain juices flowing. Did you know that UCLA’s history department is in the social sciences and not the humanities?
  • Tackling the “son of man” problem in Bartchy’s Historical Jesus course. I am convinced that questing for the “historical Jesus” is a vast black hole, but I’m glad I gave it a whirl.
  • Latin. Elementary language classes can be a pain, particularly when you have so many other research responsibilities. On the one hand, those classes can be too slow. On the other hand, they can demand too much work (particularly at UCLA)–a distraction for busy grad students. Latin is not the most important language for me, but it’s fun to work with it–Ovid and Livy have been interesting.
  • Hebrew seminar in the NELC department. I was a little intimidated to take a Hebrew class with the folks who live and breathe Semitic languages non-stop, but it gave me new insights and helped improve my Hebrew skills. This seminar helped me wrestle through some exceptionally difficult concepts. I think my brain actually grew a little bit bigger.
  • Sitting in on Kevin‘s undergrad seminar on Paul and ancient letter writing. Good job, Kevin!

Next year will be my last year of classes. In the course of the year, I will be enrolling in Bartchy’s class on the religious environment of early Christianity, a seminar on Eusebius with Claudia Rapp, probably something on Roman history with Ronald Mellor, finish up with Latin in the Winter, and a few other things. I’ll be taking the German and French exams. I hope to be a TA–but our budgets are being slashed, so I’m not sure I’ll get a spot (at UCLA, TA’s get their own sections to teach and its very competitive). If not, I’ll probably be grading. The third year will be teaching and preparing for my comprehensive exams. Then, it’s just dissertation or bust.

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Christians Writing about Judaism (with Bias)

This past Monday, I gave my first oral presentation (my first assignment!) of my doctoral career at UCLA. For our class on “Jews, Gentiles, and Christians in the Roman World,” taught by Ra’anan Boustan, we first covered the historiography of how Christian writers have treated Judaism throughout the millennia. The major works that I presented on were George Foot Moore’s “Christian Writers on Judaism” (from Harvard Theological Review in 1921), a chapter out of E.P. Sanders Paul and Palestinian Judaism (“Tannaitic Literature,” pp. 33–59) and a hefty excerpt from Charlotte Klein’s Anti-Judaism in Christian Theology (pp. 1-66). Making my way through all that history of scholarship and planning a presentation on it was a beastly task. But the results were interesting, so I’d like to share it here with you all.

Part of the reason that this reading was so overwhelming, besides the overabundance of name after name, is because it was so negative. We read about one guy after another (yes, all men) who poorly interpreted Judaism. Moore begins his article with this statement: “Christian interest in Jewish literature has always been apologetic or polemic rather than historical.” That sets the tone for the whole reading. (To make a simplistic clarification, “apologetic” is defending that Christianity is true, while “polemic” is closer to a hateful attack on Judaism).

Moore first covers Christian writings on Judaism through the eighteenth century. In the early centuries of this period, Christian writers set up caricatures of Jewish apologists as straw-men that could easily be knocked down. After a few centuries, Jews and Christians both stepped up their game. Jewish authors challenged Christianity on the basis of Christian documents and doctrines. Christian authors used authoritative Jewish writings, such as the Targums and Midrash (going beyond merely the OT), to show that true Judaism actually verified the claims of Christianity. During this period, most Christian writers were polemical, though there were some exceptions that were merely apologetic.

In the nineteenth century, Christian scholars made an attempt to depict Judaism from an objective historical angle, though Moore believes they were unsuccessful. Judaism was viewed primarily through the lens of the New Testament. Judaism was addressed as the “background” of the New Testament. Many scholars worked on collecting parallels found in Jewish writings to the New Testament.

Ferdinand Weber stands out as one who represents another trend in Christian writing on Judaism. Weber sought to develop a systematic theology of Judaism, using the systems of Christian theology to depict historical Judaism. Within Weber and other authors of that time, we see a shift in thinking about Judaism. Now, the theology of Judaism is thought to be radically different (and inferior) from that of Christianity. The God of Judaism is far removed from humanity and inaccessible. Weber describes the “soteriology” of Judaism (a Christian term referring to the theology of salvation) as wholly legalistic. At the judgment, the Jew will stand before God with their transgressions on one side of the scale and their good works and acts of atonement on the other. Their works are what make them righteous, but their eternal salvation is uncertain according to Weber. If they do happen to lean on the righteous side, this leads to self-righteous pride in the faithful Jew.

Sanders and Klein pick up where Moore leaves off, showing that Moore made some headway in the study of Judaism, but ultimately his rallying cry for fair scholarship on Judaism was nullified. Klein notes that scholarship that perpetuates old biases is not malicious, hateful, or anti-Semitic (contrary to Nazi “pseudo-scholars”, like Kittel), but rather they show an ignorance of the sources and of their own bias. Sanders highlights the work of Billerbeck and Bultmann as nullifying the work of Moore. Billerbeck with his widely used parallels between rabbinic literature and the NT and Bultmann who added his supreme weight in NT studies to the Weber line of thinking about Judaism.

One of the key problems seen in this quick history of scholarship is that assumptions can become so deeply rooted as to go unquestioned and unsupported within scholarship. Even well-meaning and careful scholars fall prey to inherited harmful presuppositions.

Bias is a legacy that lasts generations in complicated and hidden ways. So, what do we do with our presuppositions? How do we approach historical documents? What sources do we use to talk about “normative Judaism”? Is there such a thing as normative Judaism?

These are all difficult questions, no doubt. And the track record of scholarship does not give us a heck of a lot of hope (though things have certainly gotten better since Sanders and Klein wrote in the seventies). But personally, I feel like we can make great progress by trying to be self-aware of our biases (what do we want the texts to say) and trying to be as honest as possible. I also think we can help things if we can just be a bit more sensitive to concerns that have been raised by others. For example, though this issue isn’t mentioned above, if you are going to use the term “conversion” for what happened to Paul, you should probably explain why and acknowledge the concerns raised by folks who think that’s an anachronistic or otherwise inappropriate term for Paul. I don’t think sensitive and self-aware scholarship is an impossibility!

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Oriented

Yesterday, the incoming graduate students in UCLA’s Department of History were officially welcomed with an orientation and reception. The experience actually made me feel like I’m quite ahead of the game. During the 90 minutes or so of orientation presentations, I actually didn’t learn all that much. I have been eager to learn about the sorts of classes I need to take and have been pushing forward with that. I have a readership lined up with Bartchy. I’m enrolled for classes. I know the basics pretty well.

When they brought in the experienced folks to help get the newbies acquianted and acclimated, I already knew the two guys there from my field. There are only five people in my field, including myself, and I’ve met all of them. It’s an amazing team.

When I went off with Kevin (fourth year, ABD, teaching fellow) and James (second year) to chat it up, we hit the ground running with all the ins and outs: what I have to know about language exams, what’s expected for grading, how to go about juggling classes. I had already discussed some of this stuff with them, but we went even deeper. And we just laughed and had a good time.

Later, when we were partaking of the treats laid out for us and chatting with Bartchy (our faculty advisor), Kevin mentioned how surprised he has been with this program. We all hear PhD horror stories about abusive bipolar advisors, uber-competitive grad students who hide library books, etc. Kevin has been amazed at how gracious and warm the people have been: Bartchy himself, the grad students, even the department staff. Kevin himself, along with the three others in my program, is a model of that graciousness.

I joked that Kevin was getting my hopes up high, but Bartchy told me to let my hopes remain high and soar on them. On that note, I am ready to start soaring this Thursday when class sessions commence!

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In the Mail: The New Testament and Homosexuality by Robin Scroggs

Many thanks to Augsburg Fortress Publishers for sending a review copy of The New Testament and Homosexuality (publisher link) by Robin Scroggs, who is Edward Robinson Professor of Biblical Studies Emeritus at Union Theological Seminary in New York. This one goes back quite a few years, published in 1983. If you google “Robin Scroggs”, you will find all sorts of folks in the homosexuality debate using his book for various purposes. Scott Bartchy has required the text for his seminar this fall, “Spirituality and Sexuality in the Early Christian Movement” and I am intrigued. Here’s an excerpt from the preface:

For better or worse, I decided that somebody needed somehow to provide resources that would give both clarity and honesty: clarity about the real issues with which the Bible dealt, and honesty about how the Bible could or could not appropriately inform the debate [regarding homosexuality]. . . .

Perhaps this “personal confession” will signal my own interests and involvement with the topic. I am not a homosexual. Nor do I write this book as an advocate either for or against the ecclesiastical rights of homosexuals. I confess to a confusion about the merits of psychological arguments concerning homosexual inclinations, a confusion I know I share with many people. I just do not know whether homosexuality is or can be normal or whether it can be as fulfilling to the human person as heterosexuality.

At the same time I confess equally that I see no way of reading the Christian gospel except that it is one which totally accepts in love all persons, regardless of inadequacies or moral failings. And I have seen too many tragic rejections of homosexual persons in the name of Christian righteousness or even love. I thus offer these pages in the hope that, in addition to bringing clarity and honesty to issues of the relevance of the Bible, it may bring as well a little more light and a little less heat to the discussion, a little more acceptance of all persons on the “other side,” and maybe even an awareness that in Christ there is really no “other side” at all.

Ultimately, however, my purpose in writing is to make it as clear as possible what are the issues in the use of the Bible in Christian debates about the acceptance of homosexuals. Just what is a proper use of the Bible, especially the New Testament, in these discussions?

I don’t know if it’s possible for anyone to really bring “a little less heat” to this discussion, but I’m interested to see what Scroggs has to say nonetheless!

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Scored a Readership: History of Early Christians

Today I have learned that I will be the reader for Prof. Scott Bartchy’s course, “History of the Early Christians“. The reader at UCLA is basically a grader. I’ll be grading the mid-terms and finals. Actually, I’ll be both enrolled in the course and grading it. Obviously, I won’t be grading my own work!

I graded similar topics for a course called New Testament 2: Acts-Revelation at Fuller, though there were more assignments for that course. I look forward to getting more pedagogical training, even if the grading might not always be fun. Here’s a description of the course:

Christian movement from its origins to circa 160 C.E., stressing its continuity/discontinuity with Judaism, various responses to Jesus of Nazareth, writings produced during this period, movement’s encounters with its religious, social, and political world, and methods of research.

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Transitions: Becoming a(n) (academic) dad

Perhaps the reason that I have been so silent on my blog lately has been the monumental transitions in my life. At the top of that list is my coming fatherhood. My wife and I are expecting a baby boy, born in early December. Advent will have tremendous meaning for us this year!

Besides thinking about birth and parenting issues lately, I have been finishing up my last courses at Fuller Seminary and preparing for my first quarter as a doctoral student this fall at UCLA. My blog had previously been tied to my identity as a Fuller student in a drive to get into a doctoral degree. Now that my search is over and Fuller coursework will soon be finished, my blog has to adapt.

I now hope to adapt to the changes by writing about my doctoral studies at UCLA and my thoughts about being a dad in academia.

The classes I’m currently enrolled in are: History of the Early Christians (Bartchy), Spirituality and Sexuality in the Early Christian Movement (Bartchy), and Jews, Gentiles, and Christians in the Roman World (Boustan). I will also be studying elementary Latin at Pasadena City College, which is a more convenient commute and covers basically the same material as UCLA’s Classics Dept. I will probably also be a “reader” (aka a grader) for an undergrad course at UCLA, but that hasn’t been set in stone yet. That all begins at the end of September.

My first parental sacrifice seems to be that I will not be able to attend SBL in Boston. Since I grew up in Massachusetts, I’ve been looking forward to this one for a couple years. It’s very sad, but it really is a no-brainer given the timing. My baby is a higher priority than SBL! :)

More thoughts to come . . .

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Many Conversions in Process (Part 2)

In my previous post, I mentioned how I have thought about conversions this quarter. Since it is relevant to my vocation as a scholar and educator, I would like to reflect a little bit on my “intellectual” and “sociopolitical” conversions. I can point to a definitive moment when I had my major moral conversion (see my last post) and also my Christian conversion (at Christian youth event in high school). But for my intellectual and sociopolitical conversions, it is more difficult to nail down. In Donald Gelpi’s book, Committed Worship, he describes his own intellectual conversion:

Then came the day when I realized that I did not believe some of the things one of my professors taught. . . . I finally decided to formulate my own position on the subject. With that decision, I believe, I began to come of age intellectually. [25]

Something like this happened to me a couple of times. In my last post, I mentioned how I was a pretty bad kid in early adolescence. Not only did I cause trouble, but I was a very poor student. My dad told me that I made one of my elementary teachers cry because I was not living up to my potential. That was only the beginning. My academic low point was probably eighth grade (the same year I made my moral conversion).

My mind was truly captured for the first time after I became a Christian at 16 and attended weekly Bible studies. It was the first topic that I was so excited that I actually began to read . . . a lot. I read as much of the Bible as I could and asked lots of questions during the studies. What I didn’t realize was that I was being spoonfed a particular brand of biblical interpretation (some may call it fundamentalism).

Then, when I (barely) made it into college and began my study as a Bible major, I was introduced critical thinking. The Bible was no longer simply an “answer book,” a repository of information at my fingertips, but a complex compendium of documents written in vastly different historical and cultural contexts than my own. My early studies at Messiah nudged me out of my high school fundamentalism. Later, I began to develop the tools to question what my undergraduate professors were telling me.

Like Gelpi, I started to find my own intellectual voice. During this time, I became Anabaptist. Reading Anabaptist literature profoundly affected my intellectual outlook, but I also found that I was not walking in lockstep with all Anabaptists. I eventually found a way to be both committed to my Anabaptist faith and live with tons of intellectual questions.

I won’t go into the whole of my sociopolitical conversion, but suffice it to say that my inquisitiveness led me to question not only theological, historical, or literary ideas, but also present day cultural and societal norms. In turn, I’ve become an activist of sorts, perhaps a mild activist (e.g., I’ve never been arrested for civil disobedience), but I am engaged.

As I connect the dots with another earlier post on holistic teaching, I imagine these are the sorts of stories that I will meet as a pastoral kind of educator. My hope is that I can the kind of guide that my professors have been for me in my intellectual and sociopolitical conversion process.

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Many Conversions in Process (Part 1)

I have thought a good deal about conversions this quarter, which I didn’t expect to happen when it began. In my preaching practicum, “Making Doctrine Live,” I was assigned the text of Acts 16:25-34 (conversion of the Philippian jailer) and instructed to relate it to the doctrine of conversion. A few weeks before I was supposed to preach the sermon, we talked about conversion stories in my “Congregation as Learning Community” (CLC) course.

I have always thought of conversion as a process, more than the instantaneous transformation of one person from unbeliever to believer. When we discussed conversions in CLC, Mark Lau Branson pointed to the work of Roman Catholic theologian, Donald Gelpi. Gelpi outlines five areas in which conversion has both an initial moment and an ongoing process: affective (emotional), intellectual, moral, sociopolitical, and Christian (or religious). Branson adds “local congregation” as a sixth category. In these categories, Gelpi borrows from secular definitions of conversion, in which conversion constitutes:

“ . . . change from irresponsibility to responsibility that includes accountability, in which persons acknowledge a duty to render an account of the motives and consequences of their decisions to someone or to some community of persons. Conversion is possible in natural and supernatural spheres, which are interrelated.” (“Branson on Gelpi on Conversion,” in-class handout).

In other words, conversion is not as simple as we might believe if we listen to most television preachers. For example, I actually had a moral conversion before my Christian conversion. As it happens, I was a pretty bad kid as an early adolescent. In those junior high years, I shoplifted and generally got into lots of trouble with a buddy of mine that was my partner in crime (literally). During this two year phase of mine, my parents couldn’t do anything to change my behavior. Then, one day, my buddy and I got picked up at a local department store for shoplifting some junk food. It wasn’t the first time I got caught, in fact it was the second time that week, but this time was different.

Rather than pick me up herself, my mother decided to let the police escort us home. The officer that came to pick me up happened to be my DARE officer from sixth grade. I had tremendous respect for this man, who had taught me to “just say no.” So, when I saw the look of disappointment on his face and heard it in his voice, I was suddenly transformed. I stopped hanging out with my fellow hoodlum and concentrated instead on singing in school choir. I stopped my criminal activities and became good friends with a fellow choir member who eventually introduced me to the Christian faith.

This is an example of how one conversion was both “initial” and “ongoing,” while it also led down a path towards other conversions. Thinking about these conversions in class not only helped me see new and interesting things in the jailer’s conversion in Acts as I planned my sermon. The exercise also helped me consider what it means that conversion is a process in my own life.

This theme stood out so strongly to me, I think I will write a second post on some of my intellectual and sociopolitical conversions. The two categories are intimately connected for me.

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Dynamics of the Classroom/Congregation

During this quarter, part of the home stretch in my seminary career, I have been thinking about education in the context of a congregation. In “The Congregation as Learning Community,” we’ve been emphasizing a holistic kind of education, using buzzwords like “discipleship” and “missional church.” I came into the class thinking that we’d be mostly covering practical aspects of education within a church. But we spent a great deal of time thinking more about the purpose of the congregation and the people who fill it. We should not merely be dumping information into people’s minds, but educational leaders in the church should be guiding and equipping people in becoming transformed disciples.

It makes me wonder: how do we conceive of the student in the classroom? It seems like its easy to forget that students are whole human beings and not just warm bodies behind desks, or numbers on an excel spreadsheet. I have often thought of my pursued vocation as not only a professor, but as a pastoral kind of professor. If I connect the dots, then, I should broaden or deepen my understanding of the people I will be teaching in the future. I should also broaden or deepen my understanding of what my role is as a future educator.

“Disciple,” after all, is just another word for “learner” or “student.” Isn’t it natural to connect the dots between the two? Just like at any church, there will be a hundred different things on the minds of those who show up. Just like at any church, those who come are hoping to “get something out of it” for themselves. What if we could transform a classroom in the kinds of ways that the “missional church” movement is trying to transform the church? How can we not only engage the minds of students but provoke them towards action? How do we not only impart information but also help students to grapple with cultural implications to what they are learning? How do we make contextual connections inside and outside the classroom? I am certain the answers will differ from one topic or classroom to the next. But I think it’s good for me to start asking these questions before I dive headfirst into life as a full-time educator.

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