Teaching Ignatius: Recap and Reflection
Coincidentally, as my friend Kevin Scull was presenting a paper on Ignatius (“Self-Effacement in the Letters of Ignatius and Paul”) at NAPS, the class he was teaching (“Earliest Christian Documents in Historical Context”) was scheduled to address Ignatius’ writings (the very same day, in fact!). Clearly, Kevin could not be in both Chicago and Los Angeles at the same time, even if it was the same topic that demanded his attention. I was honored that he requested I step in for him to lead his seminar of about a dozen students on the topic of Ignatius. I had a great time.
It was a three hour seminar that began with a writing exercise (the class fulfills a “Writing II Requirement” or a “W” course at UCLA) on word precision and verb tense–not as dry as it sounds! The students had to have their rough draft of their final paper completed by that class session, so, they had examples to share with their peers.
Then we switched to Ignatius, the students having read his letter to the Ephesians and to the Romans. They had done some background reading from Ehrman and a scholarly article dealing with why Ignatius was arrested (external persecution or internal strife?). We spent some productive time discussing the major themes that Ignatius cares about: martyrdom, bishops, unity, and false teachings. We tried to connect the dots between his concerns regarding bishops, unity, and false teachings (false teachings bring dissension, the bishop dictates the boundaries of unity, etc.).
We tried to discern what those false teachings might have been. They identified “flesh” as an important topic in Ephesians, but weren’t sure what to make of it. One student thought that this could have been something “christological,” but when I explained docetism to them, they didn’t seem convinced that the false teachings were solely docetism. They thought that Ignatius was emphasizing spirit just as much as flesh in his comments, so they thought it could go either way.
When I told them about the old view that there was a singular “docetic Judaizing” group that Ignatius was fighting against in all congregations, just about every student thought this was ridiculous–as their faces expressed. This was a group very suspicious of the work of “scholars.” They almost reminded me of the way the sixteenth century Anabaptists talked about “the wicked scribes.” But their distaste was less for religious reasons as it was for logical ones. To paraphrase one student, “It seems like these scholars just decide some things, which have very little evidence, sound like good ideas and everybody just goes along with it and bases more work on it.” Teaching the issues of historical scholarship, particularly in the ancient world, to undergrads often reminds one of the speculative house of cards we academics live in.
For the rest of the class session, we talked about how Ignatius compares and contrasts with Paul (including the theme of Kevin’s own presentation on self-effacement) and the nature of persecution of Christians in the early second century (they had also read the Pliny and Trajan exchange, and a comment from Tertullian on how Christians get blamed for everything).
I love my own classroom, but it was nice to take a step back from seventeenth-century absolute monarchy and teach Christian origins again. And for a great group of students, too. Every student contributed something valuable to the discussion. I could tell that Kevin had been helping these students through some very challenging terrain in a masterful way. In the end, though, it does make me somewhat sad that I will not get to teach next year–even if it means I’ll be more productive in my research. I’ve already been looking for ways to keep a foot in the pedagogical waters next year.
Guest Post: Bridging Tech and “Old School” Respect in the Classroom
Responding to my recent little series on laptops in the classroom (see parts one, two, and three), I got a lengthy comment from Barry Goldenberg, one of my current students in Western Civilization (Circa A.D. 843 to Circa 1715) at UCLA. Barry’s comment was so thoughtful that I figured it deserved its own post. Some interesting things that I have learned about Barry is that he is on the UCLA tennis team (I gather he maintains their Twitter feed) and, in the fall, was an intern for a US Senator. Barry’s comments are a nice first person account of one undergrad trying to live in that in-between space of the technology generation, but also with some “old school” values (his words). So, without further ado, here’s Barry . . .
This is a great topic and one, as I continue to grow and change as a 3rd year undergraduate student, struggle with myself. Coming out of high school, it had rarely ever occurred me to use my laptop in classroom. Even though I came from a public school in St. Louis, Missouri, I had originally felt it was disrespectful to use laptops; I guess I was “old school” and felt that you take notes in your notebook, make eye contact with the Professor, do not wear hats, etc. Obviously, coming to UCLA from a suburb outside of St. Louis is–and continues to be–a culture shock and experience.
Regardless, I do not think I used my laptop my first year in the classroom, especially not in discussion. I effectively developed a “system” that worked to do well in college for me in terms of folders, color coded notebooks, my specific pen to takes with, and the works. And, quite frankly, I saw no reason to change. My old-fashioned notetaking (even amongst the large lecture halls) seemed to work as well as held to my beliefs about respect for my Professor (unfounded or not). This continued throughout my 2nd year at UCLA, until I specifically remember an instance in the Spring where I finally stopped being stubborn and thought about using laptops.
I spent all quarter furiously taking notes during Prof. Gelvin’s Israeli-Palestine conflict, in which his lectures were very dense, provided much information, as well as relevant practical information to debate with in the real world. Regardless, a student next to me sat next to me in the front row one day and with her Mac (I had gotten a Mac for the first time that year), opened up her Word document and typed in a “notebook-esque” way as the computer recorded the Professor speaking in line with her typing . . . I was amazed, I did not know I could do that! I thought to myself, “Why would anyone NOT do this?” The next day of lecture, I brought my computer and recorded my Professor while typing notes and I realized I would be foolish to not do so for a class that the Professor talks fast and provides a lot of information.
After that Spring quarter revolution, I now decide the format of the class use my computer (despite continuous peer pressure to always use one when the majority of the class uses it). In a class without a PowerPoint Presentation, I always take notes by hand because it provides me the best way for me to organize what the Professor is saying by ways of diagrams, arrows, stars, brackets, etc. When there is a PowerPoint, I still try to take notes by hand but if there is “too much” information presented, then I will think about using my laptop or if there is information in lecture that I want to repeat to in the future.
Overall, the laptop in my opinion, is a very powerful tool and sometimes I feel so foolish for insisting to always try to take notes by hand. To me, there is just “something” special and rewarding about having a notebook for of notes over a digital copy. But I know that notes on my computer will provide me easier access to information (as Pat mentioned about searching for specific things) as well as provide an invaluable recording of the lecture. However, if I don’t find it necessary to have either of those things in the context of the class and its structure, I still feel better taking notes by hand.
Above all, always sitting in the front row of every class, it just feels more respectful to do so for the Professor and especially in a discussion section; engaging in the material, making eye contact instead of staring at the computer screen helps me create a more personal experience/connection with the lecturer or class. However, I recognize how beneficial a laptop can be and have reached the point, at least now in my college experience, that I sometimes use them in class when I feel it will help me do better. As I continue my education, maybe I will have to/need to use them all the time inside the classroom, but for now, I usually do without.
Lectures and Laptops: Adapting Teaching Methods
To continue this series on laptops in the classroom (see parts one and two) . . . There is another issue here and that is whether we need to change the way we teach rather than ban laptops. Both Chris and Tim mention it: even the lecture shouldn’t be a straight lecture, but should encourage active student learning. I’m a bit on the fence.
Before UCLA, I had never experienced discussion sections. The big classes at UCLA have large lecture halls (somewhere between 120-300 students or so) with smaller sections that meet once per week for discussion (around 15-25 students, depending on the department). So, I would like to agree with Chris and Tim about the need to change the passive lecture into a more active learning experience, but I would like to qualify it a bit:
In a class like those at UCLA (lecture sessions + discussion sessions), there seems no real point in making the lecture into something reserved for the discussion sessions — where active learning can be much more effective. On the other hand, the lecturer should work hard to be animated and to speak in a conversational style. As an avid podcast listener (and a former high school thespian), I am a firm advocate for the power of the spoken word.
The lecture need not be a dictation-transcription sort of relationship. Make it fun! I think the lecture should tell a story in a way that excites the presenter. Occasionally, students could be called up to volunteer and act out some sort of historical scene or to model the manner of statues in a particular age or the like. But the focus of the lecture should, I think, be on the transferal of information in an engaging way. I do not believe the lecture is dead yet, even if John Cleese is carrying it over his shoulder trying to toss it on the cart for the dead.
For a large course without discussion sections (over 50 or so), it’s difficult to create an environment of active participation. One of my Fuller profs handled it well by assigning small groups that would share electronic responses with each other each week. Another Fuller prof handled it by creating small groups that would consistently meet together as a portion of the long class time each week. I like both approaches.
I may have appreciated the course content in large lecture classes otherwise, but my learning experience suffered if the professors made absolutely no attempt at connecting the students in any sort of meaningful way. Having a few people speak up in response to questions during large lectures usually descends into having a handful of outspoken students “ask questions” that are mini-lectures in themselves to show off their “intellect.”
For a survey course with a smaller amount of students (under 30-40 or so), it still seems to me that some sort of “lecturing” needs to occur. It is a class surveying material and I believe that students should have someone who can ably guide them through that material. Again, the lecture need not be dull. But the smaller classroom, even if it needs to have some sort of basis in information review, also allows for more active classroom activity: small group tasks, debates, and the like.
For a seminar type classroom (maybe 5-15 or so), I believe there should be very minimal “lecturing” (aside from the occasional rant about some perspective or approach of the material) and mostly student discussion.
What happens to the laptop in all this? I believe there is a place for the laptop in all of these environments. In the lecture course, as an educator, I don’t want to babysit students. It’s really impossible to enforce rules about laptop usage unless you want to ban the laptop (and as I’ve noted in the past two posts, I don’t want to ban the laptop). Making your TAs enforce laptop usage is really unfair to the TA’s and makes them into police rather than educators. The policing can even be more distracting than the inappropriate laptop usage.
So, as I’ve noted in this little series, I think for lectures we need to treat students like adults and let them do as they will with their laptops. I think I like the idea of asking students who plan to distract themselves sit in the back, as one Fuller professor did. As the classroom sizes descend smaller into more discussion based sessions, I still believe laptops have a place, even if it needs to be regulated a bit (like taking a point off their final grade for inappropriate laptop use as I do).
Laptops in the Classroom: An Autobiography
Sharing my own experience, I would like to follow-up from my earlier post on what to do about laptops in the classroom. I feel like I’m embedded in the generational transition into this technological problem. I am part of the “in between”. When I was an undergrad, nobody brought laptops to class — even my senior year (2002). After three years had passed and I entered seminary (2005), everybody had a laptop in class (all but a very, very small minority). From what I’ve seen, UCLA students are somewhere in between (though, my wife tells me that her Master of Public Health classes at UCLA had about the same laptop numbers as my Fuller Seminary experience).
From what I can see, there are at least two types of classrooms that need to be addressed: the lecture hall and the discussion classroom. So, here’s a bit about my own time in both:
Taking notes in lecture. I was not the ideal student as an undergrad. Let’s not go into too many of those details, but one of my problems was my entry into the digital age before it really took off in the classroom. For me, taking notes in class by hand felt so useless because I couldn’t search for things later. Relatedly, I was terrible at organizing papers, whereas I’m great at organizing things on my laptop. After the semester ended, both problems escalated: there was no way I was going to be able to control dozens of pieces of paper from each class each semester in any useful manner. Taking notes on paper just seemed (and still seems) futile to me. The notes I have taken on my laptop as a graduate student, however, have been invaluable, even years later. “I remember David Scholer mentioning some interesting Greco-Roman parallel to the Lukan prologue . . . what was that? . . . [searching files] . . . ah, yes, there it is. . . .”
I also tend to agree with the college student from the NPR story I mentioned last time: “‘It’s like high school. I mean we’re college students. I mean we’re paying tuition to come here, a lot of tuition to come here. We shouldn’t be treated like we’re elementary school students.” Yes, laptop computers (particularly when connected to the internet) are a bit risk for distraction. But in the lecture class (I’m talking somewhere over 50 students), I think students need to make the decision for themselves. If they decide to play Farmville instead of listening to the lecture on the agricultural revolution, they will probably get lower points on the exams. They should be free to make that choice, as long as distractions to others can be limited.
Laptops in the discussion-based classroom. Jared believes that laptops should be banned in discussion classrooms, while Chris believes we should be leveraging student attachments to technology. In my discussion sections at UCLA, I have found that there aren’t enough students with laptops to really leverage their presence as Chris suggests. But I am far from coming to Jared’s conclusion. I suppose it is from my own experience as a student. I can’t imagine myself without my Bible software in a doctoral seminar on, say, Deuteronomy. The extreme ease of going from one passage to another to a ancient near eastern inscription to a commentary to a lexicon to a Bible dictionary, etc., makes discussion so much more enriching. Not to mention how helpful it is to take notes on my laptop, as mentioned earlier.
While the undergraduate class on Western Civilization that I teach doesn’t need to be jumping around so much, it may help them to search for a key term in the primary documents we read for that week or to jot down some notes from the discussion. Perhaps even jot down a question before they ask it and then write down any responses to it after they ask the question.
Since attention is so essential in creating an effective discussion environment, I still deter nonessential laptop use by penalizing students’ grades. None of this frivolous “bring donuts in for everyone next time if your phone rings” stuff. If you’re messing around with the laptop, texting on your phone, or even doing the old school newspaper reading, you get one point off on your final grade each time. So, I may not ban laptops, but I have found that my policy (and my demonstration that I mean what I say) allows for a healthier laptop-to-discussion-classroom relationship. And I still (usually) have excellent participation.
Okay, I still have more to say, but I’ll will leave that for a “part three” to come, addressing different teaching methods we might take for different types of classrooms . . .
Another “Laptops in the Classroom” Article
My father-in-law forwarded this article from the Washington Post about laptops in the classroom. NPR covered a similar story yesterday on Weekend Edition. You may remember the article in the Chronicle last year. The two recent stories have a similar tone (NPR even uses this phrase): “be careful what you wish for.” Many universities offered laptops to all incoming students. More and more schools are doing this. But now that the students all have the laptops, they have the problem of laptop distraction in the classroom. Both NPR and the Post include a bit about Kieran Mullen freezing a laptop with liquid nitrogen and destroying a laptop in class to make the point (see the video).
The NPR story includes a point that you can also find made by Chris Heard last year. An undergrad interviewed in the story says: “I went through a history class that was just every single day death by PowerPoint. And it just, it was awful.” A professor interviewed agrees: “I think if no one in your lecture hall or your classroom is paying attention to you and you complain about that, that is like the baker complaining about the bread.” Chris believes that “enforced Ludditism does nothing but flex the professor’s power muscles.”
The Mullen laptop destruction presentation is a great example of professorial power muscles. Bolstering this perspective is the further point that distractions did not begin with electronic devices in the classroom. Chris makes this point, as does the professor interviewed in the NPR story. On the other hand, Jared made a good point last year as well, that doodling does not have the same sort of distraction power as does the connected laptop.
So, on the one hand, students have always found ways to embrace distractions. On the other hand, the distractions truly are more accessible and more difficult to avoid with the internet at one’s fingertips. Not only that, someone checking sports on their laptop screen is much more distracting to other students than someone doodling or even reading the newspaper. I had one professor at Fuller adjust for this by asking any students who plan to distract themselves online to sit in the back row, so as not to distract any students behind them. An interesting approach.
This getting a bit long, so I will stop here with the promise of a “part two” later, on my own experience as both student and educator. . . .
For further reading, you can see older reflections from Tim and Tyler. Tim touches on another point raised in Chris’ post, that of needing to change the way we teach, to encourage more active learning. I’ll come back to this.
You Have 50 Minutes to Teach about Hebrew Civilization and the Origins of Judaism. Go.
Coming this January, at a UCLA campus near you (or not so near, as the case may be), I will be presenting a lecture on Hebrew Civilization and Second Temple Judaism within the context of the course “Introduction to Western Civilization: Ancient Civilizations, Prehistory to Circa A.D. 843.” I will be TAing for two sections of twenty each for this course, but this lecture will be for the entire 300-something student class.
So, what would you like the bright and impressionable young minds of UCLA to know about the rise of Hebrew civilization, the history of Israel, the exile, the origins of Judaism, and the Hebrew Bible based upon a 50 minute presentation?
Remember that this is in the context of the broad sweep of ancient history, serving as the foundations for something nebulous called “Western civilization.” The course is unofficially known as “From Caveman to Charlemagne.” The lecture in the class meeting prior to mine is on “Egypt in the New Kingdom; The Mesopotamian Kingdoms,” while the one after is “Minoans, Phoenicians; The End of International Bronze Age (Troy).” We will have already read Hammurabi, Gilgamesh, and The Tale of the Eloquent Peasant. They will be responsible for reading the Book of Exodus the week of my lecture. The only other biblical document they will be reading is the Gospel of Matthew several weeks later.
I have some of my own ideas, of course, but I’d like to hear what others would choose to highlight with such a brief opportunity to cover such an important topic.
Teaching the Bible as Western Civilization
Teaching the Bible at a Christian college is one thing. And teaching the Bible at a non-confessional (“secular”) university is, of course, something else. But teaching the Bible for one class session during a ten-week course on the foundational history of Western civilization is another thing entirely. That’s what I’m doing this week.
I am responsible for teaching/facilitating two discussion sections (20 undergraduates each) of the aforementioned Western civ. course. Unlike the lecture, which is taught by the professor on record and covers the historical data, the discussions focus on the primary sources. Last week we looked at Gilgamesh and Hammurabi, and this week we covered three texts: portions from the Egyptian Book of the Dead, Genesis (12-17), and Exodus (12-14 & 19-24).
The theme of our weekly investigation is to find out how we “do history” with our primary sources. What do these texts tell us about the social situation of the people in this society? We were able to do that kind of thing with Gilgamesh, Hammurabi, and the Book of the Dead fabulously. These kids have some amazing insights! But when it came to analyzing these biblical texts which are so embedded in our own cultural knowledge, even for the those who aren’t devoutly religious, we hit some stumbling blocks.
The class had a hard time asking the same sort of questions and coming to the same sort of conclusions. Like, assessing the text as a human interpretation of divine action in history. Instead, many people talked about maybe God did such and such because God wanted to [fill in the blank]. I certainly could learn better how to assist the discussion, but it’s much bigger than any questions I could ask in this one session on the biblical texts, of course. This sort of “doing history” with biblical texts (and not just “historicity” per se) is the kind of mental exercise that could take up an entire quarter, were I teaching a class on biblical texts at UCLA.
It is my hope that maybe I can aim to take the same route as my esteemed colleague, Kevin Scull, who has TA’ed so many classes at UCLA that they have allowed him to design and teach his own courses. If I do reach that level, perhaps I will design a course on “doing history with the Bible” or “doing history with the New Testament” in order to take on these issues of hermeneutics and historiography with the students in a more in depth way.
For now, we march on to Homer and the Greeks for next week. Though I do have one more session on the biblical topics this week if you have any suggestions for hit-and-run biblical interpretation issues at a state school.
Two Things I Learned about Teaching Today
Today was my first teaching experience at UCLA. I have taught in a variety of contexts before, but being a TA at UCLA is a different beast. This is the first time I actually created my own syllabus for a course. When I told the other TA’s that mine was six pages, they gasped. The students didn’t seem to mind, though. At least they didn’t express it. I let them know the reason my syllabus was longer was because I wanted to give them more specific guidance with the assignments, not because I’m requiring more of them.
So, here are my two main learning experiences from the first day.
- As it was my first syllabus creation, it was also my first time going over a syllabus in class. Lesson: man, going over the syllabus is boring. One student put her head down on the desk and apparently slept through it. It has me wondering whether it really is the best way to begin a class. I did start out with introductions (students interviewed one another and introduced their partners to the class) and it seemed to really get some good discussion going. Then, the syllabus. Totally different tone. It’s hard to have fun with it, especially on those times when I have to “lay down the law”. I really wanted to start the class off with a feeling of jovial camaraderie, but the syllabus is such a downer. Part of the problem is I just hate hearing myself talk for so long.
- Second lesson: UCLA students are smart. The second half of the class session, we read together a portion from The Martyrdom of Perpetua and Felicitas (chapter ten — the vision in the arena “suddenly I was a man!”). They broke into pairs to discuss the text together and then reported to the rest of the class. The discussion flew! I was astounded at the insights that the students brought up about gender roles, the redefinition of victory, symbolism in the text, social expectations, etc. Things I hadn’t thought of. A few students banded together with some information from Greek mythology to answer another student’s question about the branch of golden apples (I didn’t have an answer ready). Saying that I look forward to learning from them is no mere token! I really do!
I might change a few things about my approach on Friday, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to get around the syllabus then either. I could do the Perpetua discussion first, but then we end the class (and the week!) with a reading of the syllabus and a monologue from me about the rules of the course. Blah, blah, blah . . . have an exciting weekend! Probably best to get it out of the way. Maybe we could put on some background music. Since we’re getting down to “business,” would it be completely inappropriate to play “Business Time” by Flight of the Conchords? Probably. Oh yeah. That’s right, baby. It’s business time . . .
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WGOohBytKTU]
Do you have any advice about making syllabus review more fun in a way that isn’t inappropriate? 
Teaching Assistant Orientation: The End of Anxiety?
Today was TA orientation for the History Department. It was definitely worth the while. Of course, we learned about our resources and who we should contact about whatever issue . . .
“And don’t forget to fill out those purple forms so that you can see your roster on MyUCLA. Talk to Hubert about any computer hardware things. Did we mention the purple forms? We’re going to get some sample syllabi on the grad student intranet for you. By the way, we have these purple forms that are really important. You will find the purple forms in your TA mailbox.”
But we also discussed strategies for creating syllabuses and lesson plans and the sort of demeanor you should offer in your first day of classes. The person teaching us suggested that she had to compensate for assumptions people made about her because of her size (she’s not tall). So, she had to assert her authority in a dramatic way from the get-go. I have been talking to a lot of people about that first day strategy lately. For me, I will certainly make myself clear about consequences, but I would like to emphasize the importance for discussion (it is a discussion section, after all). I’m trying to come up with as many methods as possible to get the conversation flowing.
In the orientation session, we held a little microteaching session with four volunteers. They were to do the first five minutes of their classroom. I found that really helpful, but in deciding what might be best for me and what I don’t want to do. One gentleman did very well, except that I found him quite threatening. As in, he started right off the bat about rule breaking, he waved his pointer finger around while talking sternly, and even held a body stance that said to me, “If you disobey me, I will cut you — after I knock your head off.”
Another person announced his “no electronics” policy, but offered a friendly “because those aren’t why we are here after all.” A little misdirection, like magic! One volunteer was fabulous with humor, but could have taken the speed of speech and gestures down a notch.
I’m leaning on my experiences preaching and leading small group discussions over the years to bring me home this quarter. If I’m honest, I do feel some jitters, but when I think about my lesson plan (we’re going to warm things up with the vision of Perpetua!) I get excited about teaching. This should be fun. Stay tuned.
Interview: Mike Cosby on the Bible, Publishing, and Pedagogy
Michael R. Cosby serves as Distinguished Professor of New Testament and Greek at Messiah College. He earned his Ph.D. from Emory University, with a dissertation on the rhetorical structure of Hebrews 11. In 1999, Mike published Portraits of Jesus: An Inductive Approach to the Gospels (Westminster John Knox). This year, he is publishing two works that have been a long‑time coming: Apostle on the Edge: An Inductive Approach to Paul (Westminster John Knox) and Interpreting Biblical Literature: An Introduction to Biblical Studies (Stony Run Publishing). On that last book, see the first part of my review here.
PM: Thank you, Mike, for taking the time to participate in this interview. You have had a profound impact on my own academic journey, as my advisor from my undergraduate days, and I am excited about the opportunity to pick your brain publicly!
I’d like to start by asking a bit about your background. You have lots of stories from your Montana upbringing that make their way into your teaching and writing. What was sort of religious influences did you have growing up?
MC: Most religious input came from my mother. Dad seldom went to church and seldom spoke about God. Sunday School and church services bored me. I was full of questions, but the message that I heard was “Our church teaches the truth. Your job is to memorize the truth, not ask questions.” It is a wonder that I continued attending after junior high school.
PM: As an undergraduate major at the University of Montana, you were a wildlife biology major. What turned you on to academic biblical studies? What drew you to the study of rhetoric in the New Testament specifically?
MC: I began attending InterVarsity Christian Fellowship my junior year of college. To be honest, I was lonely and wanted to check out the women in the group. I discovered much more. I ended up joining a student-led, small group Bible study of 1 Corinthians. It was life transforming.
The following summer, I attended an InterVarsity training camp and took part in a Mark seminar, where an energetic man named Paul Byer led us through a manuscript study of Mark 1–8. We studied the text of Mark on regular sized, 8 ½ by 11 inch paper. The manuscript contained no paragraphs or verse divisions. We had to deal with the text. That experience opened a new world of academic study of Scripture. Boredom with the Bible gave way to the excitement of discovery. This inductive Bible study experience shaped my approach.
PM: It’s amazing how simple exercises can have monumental consequences! What drew you to the study of rhetoric in the New Testament specifically?
MC: During my doctoral work at Emory University, while pondering a theological dilemma, I ended up doing research on Hebrews 11. As I searched the literature for what had been written about this chapter, I discovered a ton of sermons about the heroes of the faith; but I found very little scholarly work on it. I was shocked.
At first I thought that I would do a form-critical study, searching ancient documents for other lists of heroes. A consistent claim in commentaries was that Hebrews 11 represented a homiletical form, but no one actually documented it. That was to be my study. But I discovered no such form. I found a few lists of heroes or villains, but no form.
My study shifted to analyzing the rhetorical form of these lists. I discovered that they all used magnification techniques. In essence, the authors would list a few examples and then indicate in various ways that they could keep piling up more examples to prove their points. I became fascinated with ancient rhetoric, and that began a long journey into analyzing techniques for persuasive use of language.
PM: You have now published three survey textbooks on the Gospels, Paul, and now the entire Bible. What do you feel has been missing from textbooks already available on these topics and how do your own works address that need?
MC: My philosophy of education may be summarized as follows: Until students see for themselves the complexity of the New Testament documents, they will remain novices in the discipline of Biblical Studies. Reading good books about the Bible does not replace personal interaction with the Bible. My textbooks combine historical and cultural information with inductive questions that help students analyze NT books and discover for themselves the things that other authors mainly just explain to readers. My approach requires more effort from readers, but ultimately it is more rewarding for first encounters with the Gospels or Paul’s letters.
PM: What kind of “edginess” do you suggest Paul embodies in your new Apostle on the Edge?
MC: Paul was at the center of a raging theological storm in the early church. His forceful personality and no-compromise approach frequently put him into conflict situations not only with hostile Jewish crowds but also with Christians who resented his view that Gentiles did not need to obey the laws of Moses. Students are often shocked when they see the anger and sarcastic language in some of Paul’s letters as he lambasts his Christian opponents.
PM: While perhaps lacking in hot-headed attacks toward your opponents, your writing style in Interpreting Biblical Literature is conversational and often autobiographical. What inspired your personal writing style? Did it make writing the textbook easier or more difficult? Did you ever worry that you were taking a risk with this style?
MC: Various editors told me that I needed to write my book for professors, not for students. “Professors,” they said, “are the ones who order the books.” But I insisted that the book should be written for students, with their interests in mind. If students like the textbook and enjoy reading it and come to class prepared, professors will be pleased with better learning and classroom discussions.
Various readers criticized my use of personal stories in the book. They said that they wanted the textbook to just give the facts—that they would provide the stories in their lectures. But students consistently told me that one of the things that they most appreciated about the book manuscript was my stories. Students tell me Interpreting Biblical Literature is far more interesting than their other textbooks. Mission accomplished. I remain unrepentant.
PM: As well you should, of course! For your Interpreting Biblical Literature, you decided to start a new publishing company rather than publish with a household‑name company. Can you share a little about that process? What was your motivation and what were the hurdles to make it reality?
MC: My motivation was that I grew weary of dealing with editors who wanted me to write for professors instead of students. I also grew weary of dealing with transition in publication houses. An editor for McGraw-Hill was very excited about my book and promised to make it a best seller. But he was moved to the history division of the company, and his replacement in the religion division had no history with my project. My experience went from positive to infuriating.
I decided to do it myself. Starting my own publishing company allowed me the freedom to have artistic control over the format. But the amount of work involved in doing an entire project like this one is horrendous. Many times I wondered why I ever decided to embark on this path.
PM: Speaking of embarking on paths, many bloggers of biblical studies are young, aspiring scholars. Do you have any advice on deciding what sorts of books younger scholars should pursue? Do you have any suggestions on finding and working with publishers?
MC: Writing a book involves a great amount of time and effort. Finding a good editor who is interested in your work is difficult. My advice is to determine what you want to write and know your audience. Do your homework on what other books like the one you want to write are already in print. Profitability is the bottom line for publishing houses. They want to know who is going to buy your work. If you go to the trouble of identifying your target audience and explaining it to an editor, you have a much better chance of getting published. Don’t just submit a book proposal with what you consider to be a good idea. Think sales. That is what editors are thinking.
PM: With the beautiful presentation of your first project, many may want to know if you accepting new manuscripts at Stony Run Publishing. If so, what are you looking for in a manuscript? How would one go about submitting a manuscript?
MC: I am not even thinking about publishing other people’s books right now. Working with my own is keeping me insanely busy.
PM: Well, it seems to be paying off! I know that pedagogy is extremely important to you. It seems that most academics simply rehash the styles of their own educators. What have you learned in your years of reading about and experimenting with various teaching styles that these regurgitating academics might have missed?
MC: Try to think about how students learn and what facilitates that learning. Remember how bored you were with some of your textbooks and vow not to put others to sleep. Be creative. Think outside of the box. But you can’t get too far out of the box and be taken seriously by editors. Think through your pedagogy carefully and communicate it clearly to editors who publish works in the area that want to address. Do your homework on the kinds of things that various publishing houses print. Don’t do blanket submissions. Target your proposals.
PM: As a proud Messiah College alumnus (despite the name‑bashing we have received from Jon Stewart), I have to ask about the school. What led you to join Messiah’s faculty? What has kept you there?
MC: I came to Messiah College because of its academic reputation. Administrators here appreciate good teaching. They are pleased with my efforts in writing textbooks. I like my colleagues. My students are mostly polite and are open to learning. And I like the kayaking opportunities in the area.
PM: Would you mind sharing a little bit about what writing projects you might have coming in the future? More inductive textbooks? Any non‑textbooks in the pipeline? Commentaries?
MC: I am seriously considering doing an innovate NT survey.
PM: Thanks again, Mike, for indulging me here. I know my readers will appreciate hearing about your experience as an educator, author, and now publisher.
MC: I wish you the best in your doctoral studies. You have come a long way since your first semester at Messiah College when you were struggling with your initial exposure to academic study of the Bible. I find considerable joy in the successes of my students. I pray that as you and your blogger friends complete your formal studies and enter the teaching profession, you will remember that students are the highest priority. Too many academics publish just to advance their own stature. Do better.
Pay your dues and do good work. Advance the discipline. Be a credit to Biblical Studies. But never get into the cynical mindset that students are a necessary evil so that you can have a position just to do your research and impress others in the guild. Helping students develop their potential is an honorable occupation. If I understand anything about the Gospel of Jesus Christ, it is that serving others pleases God. Maintain your integrity.
And collaborate. You may take a bruising from others when they critique your work. But if your goal is to do a good job, you will brush yourself off, keep your hurt feelings and ego under control, and strengthen your writing in response to their sometimes harsh words. Learn to laugh at yourself. It will take you far. So will kindness. Treat others like you want to be treated.
Wise words, indeed! Stay tuned for more of that review.
-
Elsewhere . . .- Blog titles beginning with "A" to "Z" on your reader Mark Goodacre
- Of making many books there is no end Chris Brady
- Free Online: The Liddell-Scott Jones Lexicon S and C
- Does Higher Criticism Attempt to “Destroy the Bible”? II agathos
- Steven J. Friesen and the Identity of Satan’s Throne in Pergamum alan
- Does Higher Criticism Attempt to “Destroy the Bible”? agathos
- Bloomsbury buys Continuum Mark Goodacre
- Imperial America Peter J. Leithart
- C.F.D. Moule on the Birth of the New Testament d. miller
- Responding to Kostenberger (with comparisons to Marshall) Jeremiah
-
As a member of RevGalBlogPals, I am committed to building a supportive online community for women clergy, women church professionals, and women in religious life.
Research assisted by: