Creation, Evolution and Schools

 

The classic creation/evolution debate seems to have considerable staying power, though over the years it expresses itself in new ways.  There is, however, an added dimension to the current dispute, which unfortunately, is not always clearly separated from the debate over evolution versus creation. (I am using “creation” to cover a range of approaches, including creation science and Intelligent Design. I personally accept theistic evolution, which attempts to combine the theories of creation and evolution.) In this article, I wish to limit my comments to the oft-neglected aspect of this debate – the teaching of evolution versus creation in our schools.

Throughout the U.S. and Canada, attempts have been made to challenge the general pattern of science instruction in our schools, where the theory of evolution is presently given almost exclusive attention, and where it is taught as scientific fact. In response to this established approach, attempts have been made in various states to pass laws requiring that “equal time” be given to the teaching of evolution and “creation science.” These laws, however, are themselves being challenged in the courts by those opposed to any kind of creation theory.

For example, a few years ago some devout members of the school board in Dover PA wanted to have a disclaimer read out to all ninth-grade students in schools at the beginning of their biology classes.  The disclaimer would say that Darwin’s theory is “not a fact” and has inexplicable “gaps,” and would direct them to a book about intelligent design. Eleven parents took the board to court, and on Dec. 20, 2005, U.S. District Judge John E. Jones III, sided with these parents.  He said, among other things, that the disclaimer “presents students with a religious alternative masquerading as a scientific theory, directs them to consult a creationist text as though it were a science resource, and instructs students to forgo scientific inquiry in the public-school classroom and instead to seek out religious instruction elsewhere.”           

 A central component of Judge Jones’s objection to the teaching of creation or intelligent design in the classroom has to do with its alleged non-scientific status.  Creation is understood to be a religious theory and so is thought to be inappropriate for a public school classroom. But, what exactly is a religious theory, and how does it really differ from a scientific theory? It is generally assumed that religion and science are very different from each other. But there are an impressive number of anthropologists, philosophers, and scientists who argue that religion and science are to some extent similar in aims, methods, and criteria used to evaluate the claims made.

 Both science and religion try to explain or make sense of that which we observe around us. Both move beyond experience and make assumptions about the metaphysical nature of reality. The claims of both are ultimately tested in the crucible of experience. A careful consideration of the nature of scientific and religious theories will show that it is very difficult to draw a sharp distinction or separation between the two areas. That is why logical positivism in philosophy is now “stone dead,” as one writer puts it.

 Thus, although I have some reservations about the Creation Science Research Center of San Diego, and the Creation Science Association of Canada, I am sympathetic with their approach of trying to justify the theory of creation scientifically. The teachings of the Bible do have scientific implications, and therefore can, at least in part be tested scientifically. Thus also my sympathies with Intelligent Design.

 I would suggest that the exclusion of creation or ID from the classroom on the grounds that it is a religious and not a scientific theory can be dismissed as another one of the many prejudices of a society committed to the religion of secularism.

 It can further be argued that the distinction between religion and science is not even relevant to the question as to whether the theory of creation should be taught in our schools. Our schools are, or at least should be, concerned about truth, or the search for truth, wherever it is found. The key question, therefore, is not whether creation is a religious theory, but whether or not it is true.

 Considered from this vantage point, the argument for excluding creation in our schools is again unsound. Let us grant that creation theory (or ID) cannot be conclusively established, and that there is an element of faith involved in accepting this theory. But, this also applies to evolution. Both theories cannot be finally established as “scientific fact,” whatever that might mean. Both theories begin and end with a leap of faith.

 The generally accepted aim of education is to promote rationality. Where there is not general agreement as to what is true, where there are theories competing for acceptance, whether in history, social studies, or science, the way to promote rationality is to present evidence for both sides, and to let students rationally weigh the evidence. The approach is not, or at least should not be to prejudge the truth, but to cultivate rationality in trying to arrive at truth. Thus, students should be exposed to any significant contenders for truth, in all areas of study. Creation theory is a significant contender for truth in explaining our origins. Therefore, it should be taught in our schools, and all children should be allowed to weigh the evidence for and against this theory.

 (This blog is adapted from an article that first appeared in “A Christian Mind” column, in the Mennonite Brethren Herald, Jan. 15, 1982.)

 

On Academic Arrogance

The know-it-all attitude of the undergraduate student at a university; the willingness to expound at great lengths on any and every subject on the part of the graduate student; the confident airs put on by the college or university professor – all of these are examples of academic arrogance. Academic arrogance is unfortunately all too common, and is enhanced, no doubt, by the attitude that persists in our society that the university-educated person or the educated professional are somehow superior to those who have received only a high-school education.

Arrogance is of course everybody’s problem, but it would seem that the academic is particularly susceptible to this vice. It is most significant that the forbidden tree in the Garden of Eden was  called a tree of  “knowledge” (Gen. 2:17). The essence of the original sin consisted of man and woman arrogantly telling God, “I know better than you. I think the fruit looks good and I will trust my own senses, my own reason, rather than take you at your Word.” And, ever since, arrogance tends to accompany our claims to knowledge, or even just the pursuit of knowledge (cf. Rom. 1:21-2; II Cor. 10:4-5).

Academic arrogance is wrong, first of all, because there is little reason for it. No matter how brilliant, or how well educated one might be, one’s knowledge is really very puny. Although humans have made great strides in science, there is still much that we do not know. Thus, it is rather appropriate that several scientists have published a book entitled, The Encyclopedia of Ignorance.

Academics also don’t really have an edge over the “simple-minded” in terms of avoiding problems of closed-mindedness, bigotry, or self-deception. Faddishness is common among intellectuals too – just browse through some academic journals and you will observe the frantic chasing after some intellectual fad that appears suddenly, and then just as quickly passes from the scene.

Knowledge is no guarantee of virtue; education is no cure-all for the ills of society, as is so often assumed. There is just as much, if not more, immorality on our college and university campuses, as elsewhere. It may perhaps be cloaked in more sophisticated forms, but sophisticated evil is still evil.

Academic arrogance is not only wrong because it is without much foundation, and hence really un-academic; it is also wrong because of its religious significance. It involves rebellion against God. The Christian academic therefore must be particularly on guard against the sin of arrogance.

Humility is one of the distinguishing characteristics of the truly Christian mind. Christian scholars are careful to maintain an attitude of humility before God, who is their supreme authority. “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge” (Prov. 1:7; Isa. 33:6).

Christian academics always acknowledge God as the source of all truth. They see themselves, not as the creators, but as the discoverers of truth.

The Christian mind is always aware of its limitations. Christians should always be careful not to give the impression that they have all the answers. We don’t! We only know in part. We only see through a glass darkly (I Cor. 13: 9,12).

Christian teachers are always a little surprised that they are called to teach.  After all, what have they got that they have not received as a gift from God?

Christian scholars do not shy away from trying to explain their profoundest insights to the layperson, and welcome the criticism this makes possible.

A Christian apologetic has a modest air about it. Our witness should always involve a humble proclamation of the gospel.

For the Christian academic, the discovery of truth should lead to worship (cf. Rom. 11:33-36). Worship is the antidote to all kinds of arrogance, including academic arrogance.

(This blog first appeared as an article in “A Christian Mind” column, in the Mennonite Brethren Herald, Oct. 23, 1981, and is here slightly revised.)

 

Limits of Rationality

 

A central concern of education today has to do with the promotion of rationality. What is meant by “rationality” is not always clear, but there seem to be two essential elements: the providing of good and relevant reasons with respect to one’s beliefs or one’s behavior; and the exercising of a critical spirit. The latter is seen as a complement to reason, because it forces one to critically examine one’s beliefs in order to find out whether they can be supported by good reasons.

Thus, we find that a favorite teaching method of university professors, especially philosophy instructors, is to challenge the beliefs held by students. Sometimes this is taken to the extreme and an attempt is made to destroy the entire belief system held by a student. This will supposedly enable the student to start from scratch in building a new and more acceptable belief system, where each belief is accepted only after it has been shown that it can be rationally defended.

This emphasis on rationality and critical thought has a long history. Plato suggested that the unexamined life is not worth living. An important seventeenth century French philosopher, René Descartes perfected the method of critical or systematic doubt as a method of arriving at certainty and truth. More recently, Bertrand Russell optimistically argued that “rational doubt alone, if it could be generated, would suffice to introduce the millenium.”

There is certainly something to be said in favor of critically examining our beliefs and trying to support all the beliefs that we hold with good reasons. Human nature is such that we tend to believe unquestioningly, to trust authority blindly, and to become enmeshed in tradition without reason. These tendencies can be dangerous in that they can lead us to believe that which is false. As Christians we value truth, and a critical spirit is often an important tool to eliminate deeply entrenched error and falsehood. Thus there is a place for cultivating a critical spirit. The Bible also clearly describes persons as thinking beings, who can and should support their beliefs with good reasons.

But, concern for rationality and a critical spirit can be taken to extremes. The problem with many thinkers and educators is that they fail to do justice to the limits of rationality and criticism.

The basic difficulty with the demand for adequate reasons for all of our beliefs is that it is impossible to satisfy. Suppose I have a belief and a skeptic challenges me to provide a reason for it. I do so, but the skeptic now asks me to provide justification for this reason. The skeptic is still not satisfied and so the process goes on  – ad infinitum or ad nauseam. It is simply impossible for a finite intellect to provide an infinite heirarchy of reasons for beliefs held. We must start somewhere, with beliefs that do not themselves need support. In other words, all knowledge ultimately rests on faith.

A similar problem exists with the concern for cultivating a critical spirit. All thinking, including critical doubt, can only proceed if there are certain assumptions or presuppositions which are themselves not subjected to criticism. Of course one can critically examine these assumptions at a later time, but here again, we can do so only by accepting other assumptions which for the time being remain unquestioned. It is simply impossible to question everything at once. Again, we can only proceed in our thinking by first accepting certain beliefs on faith.

The Christian does not deny the importance of rationality and criticism. He or she only insists that these are put into proper perspective. Rationality and the critical spirit are limited and need to be supplemented by other ways of knowing which ultimately rest on faith. For the Christian, the basic presupposition and only adequate starting point for all knowing is faith in God.

French Christian philosopher Blaise Pascal put it this way: “One must know when it is right to doubt, to affirm, to submit. Anyone who does otherwise does not understand the force of reason. Some men run counter to these three principles, either affirming that everything can be proved, because they know nothing about proof, or doubting everything, because they do not know when to submit, or always submitting, because they do not know when judgment is called for.”

(This blog first appeared as an article in “A Christian Mind” column, in the Mennonite Brethren Herald, August 28, 1981, and is here slightly revised.)

Some Temptations Facing the Christian Professor

 I am semi-retired, having completed a satisfying 36-year career as a teacher of philosophy at a secular college, and as a researcher and writer, primarily in the field of the philosophy of education. I am therefore going to dare to write a more experiential narrative in which I examine some of the key temptations that we face as Christian professors. My boldness in doing so is prompted in part by the fact that I wish someone would have given me a paper with this title at the beginning of my teaching career.[i]

1. The tyranny of teaching

            The first temptation I would like to deal with involves the danger of abusing our power as teachers. In an editorial that I have often referred to in the course of my teaching career, Hans Burki (1979) provides a masterful analysis of the danger of teaching becoming a form of tyranny. It is all too easy for teaching to degenerate into indoctrination. Indoctrination, understood pejoratively, involves the abuse of the teacher’s power, and as such is a synonym for teaching becoming tyrannical.

            There are various factors that make it easy for teaching to become tyrannical. It feels good to have a classroom of students see us as authority figures. Teaching involves the exercise of power. We shape the minds of our pupils. Students do become disciples. A theological school shapes the theological outlook of its graduates. Human beings simply aren’t as free as liberals pretend. We are subject to a host of forces, all of which shape our thinking. If there is anything that my study of indoctrination has taught me, it is this – we tend to exaggerate human freedom (see Thiessen 1993). Students are very much subject to the influence of teachers.

            Burki offers another reason why teaching can so easily become a form of tyranny – there is a universal lust for learning. Children are curious. Even as adults, we are always itching to hear more about anything, and therefore we gather around us a great number of teachers, as Paul reminds us in II Tim. 4:3. That is why education is big business. And we as teachers are thankful for the employment this brings. But, always there lurks the danger of teaching becoming a form of tyranny because of the lust for learning. 

            Jesus clearly condemned all forms of tyranny. “The kings of the Gentiles lord it over them, and those who exercise authority over them call themselves Benefactors” (Luke 22:25). Isn’t that a generous label for teachers – “Benefactors.” But Jesus condemns lording it over others. The writer to the Hebrews, quoting from the prophet Jeremiah (31:31-4), predicts a new covenant in which obedience will come from the heart. And then there follows an interesting statement that seems to suggest that there will come a time when teachers are no longer needed (Hebrews 8:10-11). It would be a mistake to interpret this passage as a rejection of teaching per se, as Scripture frequently endorses teaching. The ideal that is here being portrayed is a time when teachers are not needed, because each student will have internalised what they have been taught to such an extent that they no longer need to be taught. They are on their own, free, hopefully, following the tradition into which they were nurtured, and hopefully also creatively going beyond the insights they have inherited, as they also listen to the call of truth and to the voice of God within them.

            I have already begun to address the question of how we can avoid the tyranny of teaching. The teacher-pupil relationship has been described as one in which “the teacher has to learn to be in authority and to be an authority without being authoritarian” (Peters 1973, 47-8). The aim of every teacher should be to make himself or herself redundant, to have students become their own teachers. This will affect the teacher-student relationship in the classroom. As students progress, the relationship between teacher and students should evolve to greater equality. They should be seen as fellow searchers for truth. Teachers and students are better seen respectively as senior and junior members of a college or a university.

             I am intrigued with another warning of Jesus, against those who loved to be greeted in the marketplaces and to have men call them ‘Rabbi.’ “But you are not to be called ‘Rabbi,’ for you have only one Master and you are all brothers…. Nor are you to be called ‘teacher,’ for you have one Teacher, the Christ. (Matt. 23:8-10). Might this entail that we not allow our students to give us a titles such as “Doctor” or “Professor”? This would certainly help to achieve greater equality in the classroom.

            In the same Matthew text, there is another key to avoiding the tyranny of teaching. There is a call to servanthood. This same call appears in the passage I referred to earlier, where Jesus warns us not to lord it over others. But you are not to be like that, Jesus says. Instead, “whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant” (Matt.20:26-7). Teaching as servanthood. That is the picture we need to keep before ourselves constantly if we are to avoid the tyranny of teaching. We don’t call attention to ourselves, but to the God who has called us, and to the truth that has captured our imagination.

2. The temptation of neutrality

            There is the terrible danger that we as teachers try to avoid the danger of tyrannical teaching by trying to be neutral when we teach. This leads me to the second major temptation facing Christian professors. We are tempted to adopt a neutral standpoint as teachers. Because we are afraid of indoctrinating our students, we try to be neutral in the way in which we teach. I prefer to describe this as the temptation not to teach from and for commitment.

            The notion of neutrality is at the heart of our modern secular ideal of liberal education. This ideal of education is based on such enlightenment values as objectivity, rationality, critical thinking, tolerance, and a suspicion about tradition and authority. As Christian educators we have absorbed these values in varying degrees as we ourselves have been exposed to them via years of secular education, and as we live in a society dominated by a modern scientific world-view. I suspect we have been affected by these values more than we realise. Although I don’t want to discount these enlightenment values completely, I want to suggest that somehow these values have the effect of slowly and quietly undermining Christian commitment. And they have also led to a model of teaching that avoids teaching from and for commitment.

            I have experimented with various approaches to being honest about my own commitments in teaching. Sometimes I have made it a point to announce my Christian commitment on the first day when I meet a new class – it should be noted that most of my teaching has been done in a secular context. Sometimes I wait until well into the semester before I indicate the committed perspective from which I teach. The danger of an early announcement is that it may create unnecessary barriers for those students who are strongly opposed to Christianity. But, regardless of which approach I use, I have tried to be a whole person in the classroom, complete with my own commitments, not only about my Christian faith but about whatever subject I am teaching. There is no such a thing as neutrality in teaching. Thankfully, this truth is being increasingly acknowledged in today’s post-modern academic climate. If we as Christian educators are faithful in our teaching we will be honest about our Christian commitments.

            Not only will we be open about teaching from a committed perspective, we will also teach for commitment. Here again, over time, I have become bolder in what I do in the classroom. One of the courses I enjoy teaching is an introductory course in ethics. It is a course on the foundations of ethics, and I take it upon myself to prove to the students that there are indeed some ethical absolutes. This is quite an undertaking given that most students today are ethical relativists. On one occasion (it happens quite often actually), I was nasty enough to apply the idea of ethical absolutes to the area of sexual behaviour. After a few minutes of this, one of the girls spoke up in exasperation, and loudly, so that all in the class could hear: “You’ve just spoiled my weekend.” She was a beautiful girl, and I am sure I had created some discomfort. Sadly, she never returned to class again. But, that happens only seldom. This ethics course has, over the years, been the most popular philosophy course that I have taught. And I am sure the students are well aware of what they are getting into when they register for this course, as word gets around at a small college. But, they keep coming, though sometimes they are furious with me.

            Permit me here to be so bold as to confess to a worry. Occasionally some of my students who go on to Christian educational institutions, or who have come from such institutions report that there is a lot of hesitation to teach from and for commitment in some of these schools. One student described most of her professors at a Christian college as very neutral in their presentations. Only if she visited them in their offices, did they begin to open up about their commitments. This is wrong. It is a betrayal of faithful teaching. If there is one thing that today’s students need, it is teachers who are committed, and who dare to teach for commitment. Of course, we must be careful that we don’t let such teaching degenerate into the tyranny of teaching. What is needed is a delicate balance between teaching from and for commitment and teaching with openness.

3. The temptation of academic worldliness

            I want to suggest that there is a unique kind of worldliness that is particularly relevant to us as academics. I call it academic worldliness and I believe it is a temptation that we as Christian academics must be on guard against. At times I have been successful in resisting the temptation of academic worldliness. In my teaching and in my writing, I have tried to be very up-front about the Christian presuppositions that underlie my thinking, my arguments, and my critiques of various positions. But there are times when I am not so bold, when I succumb to academic worldliness – when I seek approval and validation via the secular route; when my agenda is driven by the secular world’s academic agenda.

            I have found an essay by Alvin Plantinga, entitled “Advice to Christian Philosophers,” particularly helpful in understanding and dealing with this temptation (1984). He makes three related suggestions. (a) Christian philosophers and Christian intellectuals generally must display more autonomy – more independence from the rest of the philosophical world. (b) Christian philosophers must display more integrity – integrity in the sense of integral wholeness, or oneness, or unity, being all of one piece. Attempts to graft our own ideas onto non-Christian thought will lead to compromise, distortion, or trivialization of the claims of Christian theism. (c) We also need to display Christian courage, or boldness, or strength, or perhaps Christian self-confidence. Plantinga is warning against academic worldliness. I think we as Christian academics need to pay heed to his advice.

            Plantinga goes on to argue that part of the task of Christian philosophers is to serve the Christian community. But the Christian community has its own questions, its own concerns, its own topics for investigation, its own agenda, and its own research program. Christian philosophers ought not merely to take their inspiration from what’s going on at Princeton, or Berkeley, or Harvard. The Christian philosopher has a perfect right to the point of view and pre-philosophical assumptions she brings to philosophic work; the fact that these are not widely shared outside the Christian community is interesting, but fundamentally irrelevant.

            We also need to heed Plantinga’s plea for the development of a uniquely Christian mind. To fail to do so is again to succumb to academic worldliness. Here Plantinga is merely giving contemporary expression to Paul’s admonition: the Christian is not himself subject to any man’s judgment; we have the mind of Christ; and let’s not be ashamed of it; indeed, let’s boast about it. Why? – because all truth is God’s truth. Because every thought needs to be made captive to Christ (II Cor. 10:5). Because “Your word, O Lord, is eternal; it stands firm in the heavens … your laws endure to this day, for all things serve you” (Ps.119: 89, 91). That is the kind of Christian self-confidence that we need to display in our teaching and scholarship. Our teaching and scholarship must be transformed by a Christian world-view which in turn is shaped by presuppositions articulated by God’s general and special revelation. And we don’t have to be embarrassed about the truth that is in God. Do we believe this as Christian educators? Do we express this confidence in our teaching? Oh, yes, there is a need for humility. After all, we only know God’s truth in part. But, let’s never forget that God’s truth is utterly reliable, and will endure forever.

            With God’s help, I believe that I have been able to resist this aspect of the temptation of academic worldliness. Very early in my academic career in philosophy I developed a passion concerning the cultivation of a truly Christian mind. Here I am indebted to a book I read while I was still an undergraduate student, The Christian Mind, by Harry Blamires (1963). Over the years various other books have continued to inspire this passion (Walsh & Middleton, 1984; Wolters, 1985; Blamires, 1988). More recently, there have been the important contributions by George Marsden (1997) and David Naugle (2002). Thankfully, more attention is being paid to worldview thinking and the cultivation of a Christian worldview in our Christian institutions of higher learning. But all too often I meet Christian academics in our secular universities, and even in Christian colleges and universities, who, sadly, have not begun to think of their discipline from a uniquely Christian perspective. I also worry about the contemporary pre-occupation and uncritical acceptance of post-modernism on the part of some evangelical scholars (see Thiessen 2007). Such scholars have, I believe, succumbed to the temptation of academic worldliness. The writings of Marsden (1994) and Burtchaell (1998), among others, have documented another expression of academic worldliness – the sad history of the secularization of Christian colleges and universities.

4. The temptation of Christian isolationism

            As with temptations generally, trying to avoid one brings with it the danger of falling into another. So avoiding the temptation of academic worldliness can lead to an opposite danger, namely that of Christian isolationism. While we must avoid academic worldliness, we are still called to do our scholarship in the world, addressing the problems of the world, and doing all this in such a way as to speak to our non-Christian colleagues. Christian scholarship (and teaching) is at the same time in the world, but not of the world (John 17). It is hard to walk this tightrope.

            As already mentioned, one of my passions has been the development of the Christian mind and this has led to an ongoing dialogue concerning the distinctiveness of a Christian curriculum and Christian scholarship (see Thiessen 1992; 1999; 2001, ch. 10). I like to stress that the Christian mind must start with distinctively Christian presuppositions that are derived from God’s special revelation. The central problem here is that if we stress the distinctiveness of Christian learning and scholarship too much, it leads to isolationism. Christian scholarship is now viewed as totally different from non-christian scholarship, and it becomes impossible to understand other scholarship or even to talk to other scholars.

            I quite agree that an overemphasis on the uniqueness of the Christian mind can lead to this kind of isolation, and to what is sometimes referred to as the problem of incommensurability of belief systems. But, as I have argued elsewhere, it is possible to avoid such an overemphasis (Thiessen 1997). It is possible at one and the same time to say that Christian scholarship is unique and that it has something in common with non-Christian scholarship. Christian scholars can and must speak to non-Christian scholars, identifying common truth, while at the same time exposing distortions that arise from separating truth from its ultimate origin in Christ.

            For example, in my book Teaching for Commitment (1993) I spend a good deal of time trying to accommodate the secular liberal ideal of autonomy. At the same time I am careful to add a qualifier to this notion of autonomy, talking instead of “normal autonomy,” to set this notion apart from the secular liberal ideal. I also make it a point to show that this qualified ideal of normal autonomy is compatible with Christian presuppositions, and in fact grows out of them. Of course, there is a risk involved in attempting to transform the secular ideal of autonomy. There is a danger here of succumbing to academic worldliness. But I like to believe that I have avoided this, while at the same time avoiding the danger of Christian isolationism.          

5. The temptation of arrogance

            There are repeated warnings against arrogance in the Scriptures. “I hate pride and arrogance” (Proverbs 8:13). “Knowledge puffs up” (I Cor. 8:1). I have already mentioned Jesus’ warning against the desire to lord it over others. Instead, we are to be servants as he was. I think we as teachers and academics have problems with this. We have difficulty submitting to authority, to administration, or to our supporting constituency. Arrogance is a besetting sin of academics. There is a constant temptation to adopt an attitude that goes counter to the biblical ideal of submission.

            I know I have struggled with this in my attitudes towards administration. I know better than they. I have found myself joining in on the favourite preoccupation of mid-morning coffee breaks at educational institutions – criticizing the administration. I forget that my job is to be a teacher, not an administrator. And, have you ever noticed, how many academics fail to abide by the guidelines and time limits set for presenting papers at conferences? We just ignore them. We think that what we have to say is so important that we should be given all the time in the world. Such behaviour is rooted in arrogance, in a refusal to be submissive.

            The problem of arrogance is, of course, rooted in the sinful nature of all human beings. But, I believe there is something about being teachers and academics that makes us more prone to this temptation. We are authority figures in the classroom. We like the title of Professor or Doctor. Our attitudes are also shaped by the education we ourselves have received. We have been taught to think for ourselves. We have been educated to be autonomous. Most of us have received a liberal education, at the heart of which is the liberal ideal of autonomy that stresses independence and freedom. And hence, we have difficulty submitting to anyone.

            But there is something fundamentally wrong about the traditional liberal ideal of autonomy. It fails to do justice to the human need for community. It fails to recognize our dependence on others. It fails to acknowledge the need for submission to tradition and authority. Above all we are to submit to God, and to the authority of his Word. This doesn’t mean that there is nothing right about the liberal ideal of autonomy. But it needs to be seriously qualified, to be in keeping with biblical presuppositions, and hence, as I have already explained, my qualified ideal of “normal autonomy.”

            A brief additional word in the need to submit to the authority of God’s word. I think we as Christian academics have problems with this. We have been trained to think, to think critically, and to judge what we read. And there is the danger that we bring these attitudes and practices to our reading of God’s word. We sit in judgement over God’s word, rather than letting God’s word sit in judgement over us. Here again, we have succumbed to the temptation of arrogance.     

6. The temptation of misplaced priorities

            Mark Schwehn tells the story of a group of academics from the University of Chicago sharing what each of them had written down as their “occupation” while filling their last income tax forms (1993:vii-viii). A clear pattern soon emerged as each scholar revealed his/her “occupation” – sociologist, anthropologist, historian, and psychologist. Meanwhile, Schwehn began to wonder whether or not he had the courage to be honest in the company of his senior colleagues. Though trained as an intellectual historian, he had never once thought to put such a designation down under “occupation” on his tax form. When his turn finally came, Schwehn admitted, that he had written “college teacher” under the relevant heading. When he made this disclosure, Schwehn writes, he felt that it was greeted with what might be best described as mild alarm and studied astonishment.

            Schwehn uses this story to illustrate a very prevalent way of understanding academic vocation in America. The most common complaint among academics is this: “I don’t have enough time to do my own work.” And this understanding of academic vocation Schwehn traces to what he considers to be one of the most influential accounts of the academic calling ever written, Max Weber’s “Wissenschaft als Beruf.” The modern university sees the academic vocation primarily in terms of “Wissenschaft,” the making of knowledge, or research. Teaching, the transmission of knowledge and skills is of secondary importance. And “Bildung,” or the formation of character, is not even in the picture.

            Schwehn feels that it is high time that we restore teaching, and particularly, the formation of character, as essential components of the academic vocation. I quite agree. Schwehn has surely captured, what for Christian academics should be obvious. Yes, research is important. But, let us never underestimate the importance of teaching, of passing on the traditions of learning to the next generation. Teaching is a holy calling. And, let us also never forget that our objectives in teaching must include “Bildung,” the formation of character. There should always be a pastoral dimension to teaching, particularly for those of us who feel called to be academics out of obedience to our Heavenly Father. Hence I have always benefited from a reading of books on the pastoral ministry, even though I am a college teacher. The Christian academic, will be committed to teaching, and will never complain, “I don’t have enough time to do my own work.” Of course, there may be some of us whom God calls to focus primarily on research. But for the vast majority of Christian academics, teaching can and should be viewed as the most important part of our calling. We need to resist the temptation of misplaced priorities.

7. The temptation to divorce teaching from discipleship

            I love teaching, and I love research and writing. But it is all too easy to divorce these from the call to be a disciple of Jesus. Yet, as Soren Kierkegaard reminded us, “Christ did not appoint professors, but followers.” We are also called to love God with our whole being – with heart, soul, strength and mind. Then there is the call to love our neighbour as ourselves (Matt. 22:37-40). I have struggled with these calls to love and discipleship, and I don’t think I am alone. I think we as academics are not very good lovers – lovers of God, or lovers of our neighbours. Somehow, the education we have received, and the entire educational enterprise seems to militate against love.

            Education shaped by enlightenment ideals have made us value being objective, instead of committed; detached, instead of loving; rational, instead of passionate. We have come to enjoy questions, instead of answers. Answers would spoil everything. They might just carry with them a call to be committed. Or, to use Max Weber’s prophetic description of the modern era, we have become specialists without spirit.[ii] We as academics seem to have difficulty blending academic excellence with piety and commitment and love.

            Here we as academics need to be reminded that although we may be good orators, and give the most brilliant lectures, if we have not love, we are only resounding gongs or clanging cymbals. And even though in our research, we uncover new mysteries and discover all knowledge, if we don’t love, we are nothing (I Cor. 13). We also need to remember that teaching and scholarship is not all there is to faithful discipleship. God also wants us to be disciples in all areas of our lives. There is a danger that we as academics become too preoccupied with correct belief. We need to be equally concerned about correct behaviour and character.

8. The temptation to avoid suffering

            Let me conclude by sharing a struggle that has perhaps been the most difficult part of my career as a Christian academic. This struggle arises out of an important part of academic life – applying for various kinds of research grants and fellowships. An essential part of this process is to have one’s proposals for such awards vetted by referees. It is a good process, and generally it leads to helpful comments on one’s work. But at times biases come to the fore as I have experienced on a number of occasions.

            In one case a referee described me as “dogmatic, inflexible, and narrow in training and perspective.” He went on: “It is true that in certain ways Thiessen marches to the beat of a different drummer than most of his colleagues in Canadian philosophy of religion and religious studies.” This same referee went on to encourage me “to adhere to a philosophical approach to [my] subject, and to avoid casual excursions into theology and other disciplines.” Another referee expressed concern about my “consuming research interests and studies,” which all seemed to focus on the defence of religion. And then this: “Could he overcome his own personal religious convictions and concentrate on developing philosophical arguments that could compel and stand against any critical inquiry simply because they represent philosophical thinking at its best.” This very same comment appeared again in a later evaluation of an application for a SSHRC grant. I suspect it was the same person.

            Well, I didn’t get that grant, nor the earlier fellowship. While I would be the first to admit that there may be some legitimate academic reasons as to why I didn’t get them, and while I am also prepared to admit that some of the criticisms made in these reports may have some justification, I do have a problem with their cutting edge. There are anti-Christian biases out there, and they hurt. After reading these reports, I had to swallow hard a few times, pray a little, do some introspection, and ask myself the hard question as to whether there was some legitimacy to some of the criticisms. But, in the end I needed to move on, still marching to the beat of a different drummer, and still writing about topics that I felt called to write about.

            I also had to remind myself that insofar as these comments represented an anti-Christian bias, I needed to accept them as inevitable consequences of my Christian commitment. After all, Christ has called us to share in His sufferings (I Peter 2:21). I find this hard. I am tempted to try to avoid such suffering. But, I am convinced that faithful teaching and faithful scholarship will lead to suffering, to insults, to misrepresentations, to lost fellowships and research grants. We should not be surprised at this. We should not succumb to the temptation of trying to avoid the suffering that is an inevitable part of being a Christian academic.

            This concludes my review of some temptations that I have faced in a very satisfying career of teaching philosophy, mainly at a secular college. This essay could just as well have been described in terms of reflections on some lessons that I have learned and am still learning in my teaching career. But, the emphasis on temptations is perhaps better in helping us to focus on issues that need to be faced. I offer this article as a template for self-examination. The reader might even want to ask a colleague to evaluate him/her on the basis of the above template. And if some guilt ensues from this exercise, never forget that repentance and confession before our loving and forgiving God will lead to forgiveness, and the freedom to try once again to engage in the high and holy calling of teaching.  

(Note: This blog is an expanded version of an essay that first appeared in Direction: A Mennonite Brethren Forum in 2008, Vol. 37, No. 1, pp.60-70.) 

Works Cited:

Blamires, Harry. The Christian Mind. London: S.P.C.K. 1963.

____________. Recovering the Christian Mind: Meeting the Challenge of Secularism. Downers             Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1988.

Burki, Hans F. “The Tyranny of Teaching,” Signposts: A News Bulletin of Waymeet, #5, Sept. 1979.

Burtchaell, James Tunstead. The Dying of the Light: The Disengagement of Colleges and Universities from their Christian Churches. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1998.

Marsden, George M. The Soul of the American University: From Protestant Establishment to Established Nonbelief. New York: Oxford University Press, 1994.

________________. The Outrageous Idea of Christian Scholarship. New York and Oxford:             Oxford University Press, 1997.

Naugle, David K. Worldview: The History of a Concept. Grand Rapids, MI: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 2002.

Peters, R.S. Authority, Responsibility and Education. 3^rd. ed. London: Allen and Unwin, 1973.

Plantinga, Alvin. “Advice to Christian Philosophers.” Faith and Philosophy 1/3 (July, 1984).

Schwehn, Mark R. Exiles from Eden: Religion and the Academic Vocation in America. New York & Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1993.

Thiessen, Elmer John. “In Defence of Developing a Theoretical Christian Mind: A Response to Oliver R. Barclay,” The Evangelical Quarterly: An International Review of Bible and Theology 64/1 (January, 1992):37-54.

_________________. Teaching for Commitment: Liberal Education, Indoctrination, and Christian Nurture. Montreal & Kingston: McGill-Queen’s University Press. (Co-published by Gracewing, Leominster, U.K.) 1993.

__________________. “Curriculum After Babel,” in Agenda for Educational Change, edited by John Shortt & Trevor Cooling. Leicester: Apollos, 1997, 165-80.

_______________. “Transformative Christian Education: a Response to Andrew Wright.” Journal of Education & Christian Belief 3/1 (Spring 1999):23-29.

__________________. In Defence of Religious Schools and Colleges. Montreal & Kingston:      McGill-Queen’s University Press, 2001.

__________________. “Refining the Conversation: Some Concerns about Contemporary Trends in Thinking about Worldviews, Christian Scholarship and Higher Education,” The Evangelical Quarterly: An International Review of Bible and Theology 79/2 (April 2007):133-52.

Walsh, Brian J. & J. Richard Middleton. The Transforming Vision: Shaping a Christian Worldview. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1984.

Wolters, Albert M. Creation Regained: Biblical Basics for a Reformational Worldview. Grand Rapids, MI: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 1985 (2^nd. ed., 2005).

 

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Endnotes:

[i] Versions of this paper were given at a faculty retreat at Canadian Bible College (1995), a “With Heart and Mind” conference at Trinity Western University (1999), and a meeting of the Graduate Christian Fellowship at the University of Toronto (2000). I am grateful to all participants of these events who gave me valuable feedback.

[ii] Max Weber, quoted in Schwehn, 1993, 18.