How You Were Taught Vs. How You Teach
Greg Carey asks a very good question on his blog today (receiving many good and helpful comments), in line with the theme of my previous post pointing to Joel Willits’ self-reflection. Here is the question:
There’s a huge gap between what I learned in seminary and how I teach today.
Thus, my question to other biblical studies instructors: How does your classroom teaching compare with what you received as an undergraduate or (if applicable) seminarian?
If you don’t teach, a different question: Looking back at your education, how do you wish you’d been taught?
I do not yet have the honor of calling myself a faculty member, but I have been imagining how I will teach for many years. First, let me ruminate on how I have been taught.
I did my undergraduate work at Messiah College and my seminary education was at Fuller Seminary. I am now a doctoral student at UCLA. A few differences stand out to me:
- Classroom size and attention to students. Messiah College classrooms were much smaller, even for the Gen. Ed. survey courses in Bible. Sure, you could coast along without getting noticed if you wanted to, but I always felt welcome to engage the professors on a personal level. At Fuller, the class sizes were enormous in comparison (though, not as big as for your average lecture course at UCLA). An average survey course, particularly by a popular professor, was packed out at around 60-80 students. It created a distance between professors and students. Professors sometimes tried various approaches to bridge that gap. One offered a time once per week after class to sit down and chat with her and other students–but this often felt like a competition of students trying to look smart for the professor. One Fuller professor, in particular, made it a priority for student to feel comfortable talking to him, about anything. This may have been a personality issue, but I do think that the larger classroom sizes contributed to a mentality of distance between professor and student as well. Sometimes, even when I had the individual attention of a professor, I still felt like I was an intruder in their personal time and space–and I’m a pretty motivated student!
- Introducing material that challenges faith. If you’re teaching biblical studies at a Christian institution, you will probably be shocking a few students who are attached to the sermons and Sunday school lessons they have learned growing up. I found that some professors at Messiah College had a sharper iconoclasm, while my professors at Fuller had a more gentle and cautious pedagogical approach. Messiah College gave you a dramatic “reveal,” if you will, of the historical data debunking popular notions of the nativity scene or the role of the authors’ own cultural situation in the writing of biblical texts. Fuller seemed to ease the students in, not throwing them straight into the messy trench of biblical criticism without a parachute, but offering hints of the trench–with quick explanations for how to negotiate the hard realities with deeply held confessional convictions. On the one hand, I think the approach I felt in my experience at Messiah offered the opportunity to dive further and faster to the real meat and potatoes of biblical scholarship. On the other hand, it often left some other students confused or even angry. It’s a bit of a continuum, between gently guiding students towards some important questions of biblical criticism, on the one end, and ripping apart any preconceived notions or biases on the other. Every educator needs to figure out where they are on the continuum.
- “Course reader” versus standard textbook. I don’t know how things work at Messiah nowadays with these sorts of issues, but while I was there, the emphasis was on having one or two hard copy textbooks. At Fuller, many classes were using an electronic “course reader” with PDFs of the necessary readings. At Fuller, we might have one dominant textbook, but lots of articles or chapters from other places. At UCLA, many professors opt for many PDFs which can be posted online for the students to download–sometimes without even requiring any textbooks. The nice thing about PDFs is that you can keep them with you anywhere on your laptop–or your Kindle DX, if you’re so blessed.
- Technology and the classroom. There wasn’t really much going on with this when I was at Messiah, but at Fuller I had a few professors experiment with approaches that I found helpful. One of the ways that John Goldingay compensated for a huge classroom was to use Moodle assignments in which small (virtual) groups were assigned. Each week, we wrote very short blog posts (no more than 200 words) responding to specific questions related to the biblical readings and secondary sources. Each person had to respond to at least three other group members’ blog posts every week. All of this was privately contained within the bounds of your small Moodle group. Prof. Goldingay would then select random questions and comments raised within the blog posts and address them in class (not revealing the authors). This lament psalm was something I wrote for one of his assignments–he asked me to read it for the class.
Now for what I hope to be as an educator. I would like to be a pastoral professor, approachable for any sort of question. While I would try to be clear about boundaries, I would want the students to understand that I know this material is both intellectually and personally challenging. And I’m available to talk it out. Even if I end up in large classrooms, I would try to find ways to remain as accessible as possible, and seek methods to help students connect with one another (like Goldingay’s Moodle groups).
As far as introducing challenging material, I think I would take lessons learned from both Messiah College and Fuller Seminary. From Fuller, I take away a desire to explain how difficult matters of biblical criticism might fit within a theological framework, even if it isn’t always nice and neat. From Messiah, I take away a desire to be totally honest with students about the tremendous challenges one faces in academic biblical interpretation. I would hope to balance the two.
On textbooks, I am rarely wowed with one particular book so much that I would want it to represent all of what I offered for students. So, I may choose one standard textbook, while offering alternate readings in PDF format that balance that book’s weaknesses or offer differing opinions.
With technology, I am very much interested in finding techniques that work. Goldingay’s method was nice. I’d look for others too.
The end game is that the students critically engage the material, ask hard questions, learn to think critically, and hopefully discuss the issues with their peers.
Joel Willits on His Own Teaching
I love to read about the experience of teachers, particularly as they share the mistakes from which they’ve learned. Joel’s post, “Developing as an Undergraduate Teacher,” is quite forthright and helpful to those of us who are only just beginning the pedagogical journey. He explains how he was gung ho for this one particular method (sentence diagramming and discourse analysis) and wanted his students to learn it, but he was warned by fellow faculty (Scot McKnight) that it was a lost cause. He tried to make it work in various ways but ultimately realized that it wouldn’t. While I would never try that specific method with students myself, I can easily imagine some other pet passion that could blind me to the needs of my future students. It’s a reminder to always be aware of the needs of your audience/students as well as your own personal quirks.
Teaching This Fall, Finally.
I have taught in a few different capacities. Several of those have been ministry-related–small groups, sermons, Sunday school, etc. My first teaching assistant position was for Greek as an undergrad, where I often helped go through homework with students in class. In that position, in TA spots I had at Fuller Seminary and as a reader at UCLA, I occassionally helped students outside of class. At Fuller, I did take over a few classes for the Greek course I TA’d when the instructor had a baby. This fall, however, I will be responsible not just for grading or sporadic tutoring, but for guiding my own section of a class, week by week, through an entire quarter. I wasn’t expecting to get a TAship at UCLA because they are competitive to begin with and the California budget is somewhere in the ninth circle of hell.
Being an educator is the biggest reason I got into this business of academia, even if the research side of things does energize me as well. So, I am very excited to start getting my feet wet with a real classroom. The bad news is that I don’t know yet what I’ll be teaching. I will be assigned to one of the larger survey courses in the history department, perhaps Western Civilization or World History. That means that on a given week, I may know hardly any more than the students themselves. This is one of the challenges of the TA system at UCLA, but also an advantage. Such challenges will stretch me to discover how to teach subjects beyond my expertise, and I hope will give me more confidence to enter my first real job in a couple years.
But one step at a time. Maybe I should start boning up on Western Civ in the meanwhile.
Generalist Versus Specialist in Biblical Scholarship?
Mike Bird notes his co-authored (with Craig Keener) piece in the SBL forum, “Jack of All Trades and Master of None: The Case for ‘Generalist’ Scholars in Biblical Scholarship.” While we need both specialists and generalists in academia, this article is an apology for a generalist approach–as the field of biblical studies has descended ever rapidly down a myopically specialist route.
I consider myself a generalist, even in my specialty. Obviously, in order to get our initial “stripes” in academic biblical studies, we need to specialize in something as we author our own little specialty showcase, the dissertation. The topic that I have chosen for myself, or I feel has almost chosen me, is indeed somewhat esoteric: apocalyptic thought. But, I have always had a wide range of interests in Hebrew Bible, history of Israel, Second Temple Judaism, New Testament, Christian origins, history of interpretation, etc. Studying apocalyptic literature and eschatology forces me to cover a wide range of historical sources and situations and has become something of a “bridge” for me to cover my wide-ranging interests as I pursue my own specialty. And I am concerned with not simply apocalyptic in its own right, but how it grows out of the social and theological environment of early Judaism and Christian origins.
So, I would say, why not be both/and–both generalist and specialist? Mike and Craig seem to be arguing for something like this. They mention well-known generalist scholars who, “though having a particular niche in which they cut their scholarly teeth, have produced works across the subcategories of their disciplines, revealing the value of operating trans-corpora or across the traditional subdisciplines.” They deconstruct the notion of one versus the other by noting that “the problem is not that of specialists versus generalists, but of specialists failing to recognize the value of other specialties.” That is, we are all specialists to some extent, but we should simply try to familiarize ourselves with other specialties: “One can stay in the preferred ‘zone’ and still produce specialist and generalist works.”
When I began to read their article, I was thinking what they eventually articulated about halfway through: that “the generalist may have an advantage over the specialist in the classroom.” Students need us to offer them some sort of walkable path to make their way through the trenches of complicated and nuanced arguments about difficult biblical texts. In order to do that, we need to be involved in a wider conversation than with our own little corners of dialogue.
Check out the article for yourself. Good reading.
Funny Teaching Assistants
My Latin course at UCLA is taught by two very idiosyncratic teaching assistants with their own distinct senses of humor. It is amazing how a little bit of humor makes learning so much easier. Even if it’s cheesy. I find Alex particularly funny because he makes jokes at such unexpected moments and in such a wry way. The other day, as he was handing back assignments, one student noticed that Alex had a very large bug on the back of his pants. Another student exclaimed, “Woah! That’s a cockroach on your butt!” That student then swiped the large cockroach off Alex’s pants with a piece of paper and stomped it. After a moment of looking a bit stunned, Alex commented nonchalantly, “People had been telling me that I had a bug up my ass, but I didn’t think it was literal.”
Just today, we were discussing “auguries” as a translation and students were confused about its meaning (the readings of the flights of birds as a type of divination). Alex shared, “Well, it really is a word you should add to your vocabulary. It’s useful. When you’re deciding whether to go to North Campus or the Union, look up at the birds. If you want to know whether you should go for the salad bar or a burger and fries . . .” A student interjected, “I usually just follow the signs of my stomach.” Alex (calmly): “Well, this is another approach you can consider.”
The first story is irrelevant to the course, the second is connected. Both help boost class morale, which helps learning immensely.
Quranic Studies Taking a Note from Biblical Studies?
In his lecture today, Prof. Bartchy referenced an intriguing article in the NY Times about current study of the Qur’an. The Qur’an is considered by Muslims to be the very words of God, spoken through the prophet (peace be upon him) who spoke the words of God for his companions to transcribe verbatim. For Muslims, then, the Qur’an represents the actual words of God–without a hint of human authorship: the final revelation of God. Prof. Bartchy often says that many Christians (namely, conservative Evangelicals) wish the Bible was the Qur’an. That is, many Christians wish that the Bible was wholly God’s word without any human influence.
Those of us who believe in the authority and inspiration of the Bible, but also engage in true critical scholarship, must be honest about the humanity which drips from every holy page. By accepting the Bible’s (divinely inspired) humanness, I am able to tackle difficult questions of history while also living my life in accordance with the divinely inspired message of the text. This position may make me a liberal to my more conservative Evangelical friends, while it makes me a conservative to my more “secular” friends. However you categorize it, this is the sort of position that is uber-controversial for devoted Muslims to hold when related to the Qur’an.
But are things changing a wee bit at a time? A recent conference at the University of Notre Dame, “The Qur’an in Its Historical Context,” represents a burgeoning intellectual movement seeking to apply critical research to the Qur’an. The site describes the conference as “a major international conference addressing the most recent theories, controversies, and discoveries in the field of Quranic Studies.” It builds off an earlier conference held at Notre Dame, intending to be “a unique forum for a discussion of the historical circumstances in which the Quran was formed, and of its relationship to earlier literature, notably the Bible.” A glance at the conference schedule reads like sessions in the program book for SBL.
Nicholas Kistof’s NY Times article makes an interesting parallel to critical scholarship of the Bible:
“We’re experiencing right now in Koranic studies a rise of interest analogous to the rise of critical Bible studies in the 19th century,” said Gabriel Said Reynolds, a Notre Dame professor and organizer of the conference.
The Notre Dame conference probably could not have occurred in a Muslim country, for the rigorous application of historical analysis to the Koran is as controversial today in the Muslim world as its application to the Bible was in the 1800s. For some literal-minded Christians, it was traumatic to discover that the ending of the Gospel of Mark, describing encounters with the resurrected Jesus, is stylistically different from the rest of Mark and is widely regarded by scholars as a later addition.
Likewise, Biblical scholars distressed the faithful by focusing on inconsistencies among the gospels. The Gospel of Matthew says that Judas hanged himself, while Acts describes him falling down in a field and dying; the Gospel of John disagrees with other gospels about whether the crucifixion occurred on Passover or the day before. For those who considered every word of the Bible literally God’s word [i.e., objective historical truth], this kind of scholarship felt sacrilegious.
This is my favorite bit from the article:
One scholar at the Notre Dame conference, who uses the pseudonym Christoph Luxenberg for safety, has raised eyebrows and hackles by suggesting that the “houri” promised to martyrs when they reach Heaven doesn’t actually mean “virgin” after all. He argues that instead it means “grapes,” and since conceptions of paradise involved bounteous fruit, that might make sense. But suicide bombers presumably would be in for a disappointment if they reached the pearly gates and were presented 72 grapes.
This point gets at the profound task that Quranic (or biblical) scholars have to undertake. An otherwise harmless word study has profound implications for how religious followers understand and act upon their faith. With Bartchy, I think this parallel has profound pedagogical relevance when teaching critical biblical studies to committed Christians.
On Grading: "The Most Fantastic Class Ever"
One of the things I will be looking for as I attend Scott Bartchy’s (my advisor) lectures for his course on the historical Jesus is his style of teaching. On the opening day, I thought he made a wonderful speech about grading. Bartchy told this story from his graduate work at Harvard of this cocky young professor, fresh out of his Ph.D. program, who tantalizingly told the class of Harvard graduate students, “One of you will get an A. Who will it be?” Of course, all of these students were accustomed to getting A’s all the time. Bartchy says he received his worst ever grade in that course.
He used the example to illustrate how silly that sort of grading is. He also said that educators who grade on a curve haven’t figured out what their standard for excellence is. If someone does superior work, they should receive an A. Here’s where I thought it got really interesting. This is loosely what he told the students:
If I gave an A to every person in this class—and I’m not known for grade inflation—the dean would call me into his office and ask me, “Scott, What’s going on?” And I would tell him, “I have had the most fantastic class I have ever had in the history of UCLA.” I would be proud to be able to say that.
When he started talking about the dean, I wasn’t sure where he was going with the hypothetical situation. I thought maybe he was going to say he’d use the scenario to challenge the way the whole system works. I really couldn’t guess. But I thought his way of letting the students know he’s on their side was brilliant.
I have only been at UCLA for a couple quarters now, but I can certainly already attest to the pressure most students feel to make A’s all the time. It seems important for a professor to show his concern for students who feel that pressure, while also letting them know that they still have to work for it.
Define Your Words (And Other Exam Advice)
Grading final exams, I find myself writing similar comments on many exams. One of the recurring comments is that the student needs to define a particular word. Here are a few examples:
- Salvation/Saved: If you’re talking about people needing salvation, particularly in a history course at a secular university, you need to explain from what people are being saved. Does salvation mean the same thing for all leaders, writers, groups in Second Temple Judaism and Christian origins?
- Blasphemy: On a question about why Jesus was executed, if you list “blasphemy” as one of the reasons, you need to explain what that means in context!
- God: Seems almost too obvious. What do you mean by “God”? Is it a God interested in individualist spiritual enlightenment? The God of community forming power? Different groups had different understandings of “God,” even within Judaism and Christianity.
- Christianity and Judaism: These are not two separate monolithic “religions” that are somehow instantaneously at odds with one another in the middle of the first century.
- Gospel: If “the gospel” is something that Jesus or Paul preached, state what you mean. What is the “good news”?
- “Literally”: If you’re going to say that some scholar is taking a particular text “literally,” what do you mean by “literal”? This is one of my least favorite words in relation to biblical studies. It is rarely, if ever, used accurately. You might as well just not use it. All biblical scholars should “read the Bible literally” when it is not symbolic, even if they offer alternative explanations for what the text means in historical context.
Other things to remember on exam essays:
Tell me why I should care (answer the question, “So what?” or “What is the relevance of this?”).
Use specific examples as evidence of your blanket assertions. You may not be able to get away from generalized assertions in final exam essays, but you need to at least say why you’re making them.
Try to connect topics in your essays. If two seemingly unrelated topics are included in the same question, the professor thinks there is a connection. Look for the link!
Also, ask yourself whether your answer lines up with what you’ve heard in lectures and read in course textbooks. If you found something “interesting” on Wikipedia that we didn’t talk about in class, you are susceptible to the aforementioned traps. I actually had a student come up to me after the midterm and defend his inclusion of an incorrect fact because it was on Wikipedia. Gasp! How could he be held responsible for incorrect information on unreliable website that he relied on for his exam essay?!
On a related note, get your facts straight. Pliny was not an emperor and Paul was not from a Gentile background (yes, someone actually said that Paul was a Gentile). And don’t just make stuff up, it wastes the grader’s precious time.
Cut the fluff. Don’t waste the grader’s time with flowery introductions and conclusions. Like the Gentiles, you will not be heard for your many words.
I would also like to make a plea that exam takers use caution when making their blanket statements. Note the kinks in your main argument. Acknowledge that it is a complicated topic. Use nuance. For example, avoid using words like “all” or “never.” If you are saying that something is “clear” or “certain,” there is a good chance that you are wrong.
Avoid careless phrases that you might use in common speech. If you say “against better judgment, Jesus flipped the tables of the money changers in the temple,” did you really mean that Jesus had bad judgment? Okay. Who has this better judgment? Why is it better? If you say that a claim that there were no women leaders in early Christianity can be “watered down,” what does that mean? Are you saying that the claim is partially true but not entirely? Okay. Then say that. Just so you know, use of casual phrases open you up to grader suspicion. I will assume you didn’t think through the logic very clearly.
Finally, don’t apologize for your work–if you think you did a bad job. It may actually be better than you thought, but then you make me think you’re not confident about your work. If you’re actually right, but not confident about it, that raises my suspicions.
Latin American Journey: Insights for Christian Education in North America by Robert W. Pazmiño
I would like to draw your attention to one more book on Christian education, this one from the perspective of a North American Hispanic man (my last post highlighted a Christian education book by an African American woman). Robert Pazmiño is a professor of religious education at Andover Newton Theological School, who felt inspired to learn more about his Latin American roots with his family. He journeys to Costa Rica and his ancestral homeland of Ecuador. The resulting book is a way of applying his lessons learned on that journey to his profession in equipping Christian educators.
In the first two chapters, Pazmiño reviews Latin American liberation theology, particularly those ideas related to pedagogy. He discusses the threats (“destroyers”) to life as God intended and calls to action as proclaimed by folks like Gutierrez, Boff, Guillermo Cook, and Orlando Costas. His discussion of education and its relationship to liberation theology appropriately centers on the work of Paulo Freire.
Pazmiño takes the rest of the book to flesh out what those theories look like in North American Christian education. He outlines how lessons from liberation theology help us in leading transformative Christian education. He also provides the reader with a tremendous resource for wrestling with multicultural challenges in North America. Any educator in the church would be wise to tackle this book along with Wimberly’s (see last post) in order to consider out-of-the-box ways of approaching educational ministry. As for me, I will be looking for ways to adapt these insights into the academic classroom in my search for creative pedagogy.




