The Outrageous Idea of Christian Teaching

Review essay on The Outrageous Idea of Christian Teaching, by Perry L. Glanzer and Nathan F. Alleman (Oxford University Press, 2019)

This book is a welcome companion to George Marsden’s The Outrageous Idea of Christian Scholarship (OUP, 1997). Authors Perry Glanzer and Nathan Alleman (henceforth G&A) are both professors at Baylor University, a Baptist university with an international reputation for educational excellence and a faculty commitment to teaching and scholarship.

G&A frame the challenge of Christian teaching in terms of a relationship between two identities – being a Christian and being a teacher within the college and university context. After an initial chapter exploring the historical origins of widespread concerns about teachers’ religious identity, there are four chapters devoted to an empirical study of 2,300 teachers at 49 Christian colleges and universities. These chapters are not only descriptive in nature. The data is used to draw some conclusions as to how being a Christian should change one’s teaching.

Chapters 6 and 7 are devoted to the topic of teaching at secular and pluralistic universities. A final chapter reviews the strengths and limitations of three types of colleges and universities – church-related, interdenominational and pluralistic. In this chapter G&A also argue for a pluralistic system of higher education, citing the American university system as “the most pluralistic in the world” (p. 175).
This review essay will focus mainly on chapters 6 & 7, in part because I have spent most of my career teaching philosophy at Medicine Hat College, a state-funded secular college in Alberta, Canada. My interest in these chapters is also prompted by my having written a chapter on the topic of evangelism in the academy – see Chapter 9 of The Scandal of Evangelism: A Biblical Study of the Ethics of Evangelism (Cascade Books, 2018). Although G&A don’t frame the challenge of teaching in secular and pluralistic universities in terms of evangelism, this is really an underlying issue in their deliberations.

The introductory chapter is titled, “The Challenge of Identity-Influenced Teaching.” In chapters 6 & 7 this challenge gets translated into asking whether a Christian teacher’s own personal convictions can be shared in a secular and pluralistic university classroom, and if so, to what extent. Already in the introduction G&A draw on two writers to illustrate two contrasting positions that can be taken on this question. Stanley Fish has argued that it is inappropriate for a faculty member to “advocate personal, political, moral, or any other kind of views except academic views” in the classroom (p.7; Fish, Save the World on your Own Time, OUP, 2008). By contrast, Parker Palmer has argued that good teachers join the self and the subject. They are transparent about what they believe. They trust their own selfhood and “make it available and vulnerable in the service of learning” (pp. 8-9; Palmer, To Know As We Are Known. HarperOne,1983; The Courage to Teach, Jossey-Bass, 2007).

These two contrasting positions appear again in chapters 6 & 7 which deal with Christians teaching in the pluralistic university (pp. 134-8). G&A argue that both views are too simple. Fish’s assumption of neutrality on the part of the teaching is impossible, and it assumes a sharp distinction between the personal and the academic. Palmer’s transparent approach to teaching fails to address the need for some boundaries between personal identity and what is taught in the classroom. What is needed is a more nuanced approach to teaching that balances the personal and professional identities of the Christian teacher.

While G&A make some important contributions to providing a more nuanced answer to the question as to whether and to what extent a Christian teacher’s own identity can shape his or her teaching in the classroom of a pluralistic university, I believe their analysis is also very wrong in places. A problem already emerges in their definition of a pluralistic university. They argue that in theory, a pluralistic university “uses only academic requirements and identities to exclude students or faculty,” and it “does not espouse a particular religious or ideological identity, among other identities, and only educates with common human identities [or] ends in mind (e.g. enhancing our flourishing as human beings by discovering truth) or academic/vocational identities (e.g. fashion good biologists, sociologists, or economists” (p. 129).

The problem here is that this is a very idealistic view of the pluralistic university, and G&A are forced to admit that in practice, there are other identities and ideologies shaping the modern university. For example, in a footnote they admit that gender studies departments have become “feminist seminaries” (p. 230, n27). Indeed, I would argue that the idea of a university not espousing a particular ideological identity is not even possible in theory. Religious and ideological neutrality is impossible, as John Rawls discovered when wrestling with the problem of defining justice, and hence his later focus on “comprehensive doctrines” which are inescapable in liberal societies and institutions (p. 137).

There are also problems with defining our “common human identities” and assuming that today’s universities are committed to searching for truth, goodness and beauty (pp. 129, 147). The very notion of truth is hotly contested in all universities today. And do we really have common moral virtues (pp. 144, 146, 147)? Indeed, should “culturally agreed-upon views” even be the standard for what is taught at a university (p. 147)? So the problem Christian teachers face at a pluralistic university is perhaps better described in terms of how to interact with a competing and often hostile ideology that underlies the university. Although G&A do sometimes acknowledge the existence of hostility towards Christianity at pluralistic universities (p.196), they tend to underplay this. I have experienced this hostility in various academic contexts, and I know I am not alone. For some of the challenges I have faced as a Christian in a secular academic world, see my recently published autobiography, Stumbling Heavenward: One Philosopher’s Journey (Mill Lake Books, 2021, chs. 8,9,10).

Of course, there is still something to be said for defining the university in terms of plurality. Thankfully there is still a good deal of plurality at universities, reflecting also the plurality of our societies. And somehow we have to learn how to be an academic community despite our differences. So we need to find some common ground. I wonder sometimes whether the pragmatic need to get along is in fact the only common ground that we have. G&A go on to suggest that the moral basis of their analysis is both the Christian tradition and the liberal moral tradition of the contemporary pluralistic university, claiming that there is some commonality between these two traditions (p. 130). This too can and has been challenged, though I have argued the same elsewhere and will concede this point here (see my Teaching for Commitment, McGill-Queen’s University Press, 1993, pp. 54-6; and In Defence of Religious Schools and Colleges, McGill-Queen’s University Press, 2001, ch. 12).

My central concern with the position that G&A take with regard to the boundary-markers that Christian professors need to adhere to at a pluralistic university has to do with the “no unwanted identity conversion rule” that they adopt, drawing on Stanley Fish (p. 138). According to this rule it is wrong for “teachers to try to convert (students) to a particular ideology or political or religious identity, or to follow a particular vision of the good life” (p. 136). The pluralistic university is “a context in which identity conversion is not anticipated, stated, or desired” (p. 136). Indeed, seeking identity conversions is a violation of “students’ human dignity and the implicit social contract between teachers and students functioning in a liberal democratic society” (p.137).

There are a number of significant problems here. First, what is the basis for this “implicit social contract”? Who determines that identity conversion is “unwanted” at universities? I believe a pluralistic university could just as well be defined as a place where each professor tries to convert students to his or her position. Indeed, G&A quote Stanley Hauerwas who has argued that he wants students to think just like him (p.147). I happen to believe that this would make for a much more interesting university experience for students than the frequently assumed posture taken by professors who try to pretend that they are neutral.

Secondly, G&A wrongly assume that seeking identity conversions will necessarily be a violation of the dignity of students. Not necessarily. It is quite possible for this to be done in such a way that the dignity of students is protected. If students are alerted to this possibility and if persuasion is done in such a way that they are free to reject the professor’s position, then there has been no violation of student dignity. Sadly, today, the very idea of persuasion receives a lot of bad press, and is often seen as coercive in and of itself. I have argued elsewhere that ethical persuasion is possible. Indeed, my trying to persuade you about something that I view as important is in fact a way to honor you (see my The Ethics of Evangelism: A Philosophical Defence of Ethical Proselytizing and Persuasion, Paternoster, 2011, pp. 55-9, 146-7).

Thirdly, G&A assume that seeking non-academic identity conversion on the part of a teacher will necessarily conflict with student expectations “to be initiated into what it means to be excellent in particular academic identities” (p. 136). But what if there is an overlap between these two identities? As a Christian I believe that to become a really good philosopher my students should become Christian philosophers. After all, if the fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge, then seeking religious identity conversion is the most academic aim that I could have. Here I concur with Jeff Astley who has boldly claimed that: “Education and evangelism may be closer neighbours than many suspect.” (Astley, “Evangelism in Education,” International Journal of Education and Religion, 2002, p. 190).

I find it interesting that G&A give a different label to their rule later in chapter 6. They suddenly call it the “no nonacademic identity conversion rule” (p.142). The reason for this change is that they recognize that all professors do in fact seek identity conversion with regard to their own academic discipline. We want our students to think like us. But, why not extend this to our whole identity? The distinction between seeking non-academic identity conversion and academic identity conversion is an arbitrary distinction.

Fourth, it seems to me that there is a contradiction in the position taken by G&A. Already in chapter 6 they suggest that it is acceptable for Christian teachers to advance their own particular justifications for common moral principles (p. 146). A few pages later they argue that we shouldn’t downplay our particular identities in the classroom, and should expose students to “a wide range of identity commitments including religious identity commitments” (p. 149). At the end of this chapter they argue that it is appropriate for a professor to “confess” his or her religious identity in the classroom (pp. 150, 151). They expand on this theme in chapter 7, where they argue that it is appropriate for teachers “to start their courses with a confession of how their primary identity influences their teaching” (p. 155). To do so “is simply the practice of intellectual honesty” (p. 154). Now I agree with this entirely. But to do so is to introduce non-academic identity influence into the classroom. Indeed, for a Christian to start a class with a confession of faith is surely a kind of advocacy, which violates the “no nonacademic identity conversion rule” held by Fish and G&A. It is a form of Christian witness and can even be called evangelism.

Finally, there is another worry underlying the discussion of identity conversion, which tends to be down-played by G&A. It has to do with indoctrination. While G&A do at one point acknowledge the importance of this topic, they clearly prefer their own focus on identity-formed teaching (p. 174). But the notion of indoctrination does come up explicitly a few times in the chapters I am focussing on (p.139, 140, 145). And Fish is worried about professors using their power to “impose” their own views on “contested ethical” matters, which is “indoctrination if anything is” (p. 144). Ah yes, here we have the real worry underlying the “no nonacademic identity conversion rule.” It has to do with “imposition” (p. 136; cf. p. 155), “pressure” (p. 145), “oppressive opinion pushing” (p. 156), and indoctrination. The problem here is that all of these terms are rather vague, and “indoctrination” is notoriously difficult to define, as I have argued in Teaching for Commitment. I suggest that a more nuanced description of how religious and academic identities should intersect in pluralistic universities, requires a careful treatment of the problem of indoctrination. And we should also avoid all loaded and vague terms like “imposition,” “pressure” and “oppressive opinion pushing.”

I conclude that the “no unwanted identity conversion rule” is fundamentally flawed. Is there anything that can be salvaged in this rule? I believe there is. The teacher in a pluralistic university is primarily an educator, not an evangelist. Here I have introduced the notion of priorities. Indeed, at several points G&A talk about the need for teachers to sort out what they “prioritize” when they are teaching (pp. 138, 154). I quite agree that the primary purpose of the teacher at a pluralistic university is to teach philosophy or history or mathematics. While I don’t think we can exclude the introduction of nonacademic identities in the classroom, this should always hold secondary place. The classroom cannot be changed into an evangelistic rally. A philosophy of religion class cannot be changed into a course in Christian apologetics. Academic subject matter must remain the primary focus of the teacher. Of course, the notion of priorities is still rather vague.

G&A make a number of other helpful suggestions in overcoming this vagueness and in defining the boundaries between the professional and religious identities of a Christian at a pluralistic university. I have already touched on their suggestion of transparency on the part of the Christian teacher. “Teachers need to be both conscious and honest about how their identities and accompanying stories influence their approach to classroom objectives, curricular construction and pedagogy” (p. 155). I quite agree. Towards the end of my teaching career, I usually made it a point at the start of a new course to tell my students with a smile that they were stuck with a Christian philosopher and that my Christian worldview would colour everything I would say in the course. I also added that they could disagree with me and doing so would not at all preclude their getting an “A” grade in the course. Very seldom did I have a student object to what I was doing. G&A provide another illustration of this approach to teaching as per George Marsden (p. 156), and also deal with the topic of grading (pp. 170-2).

G&A also argue for justice in presenting varying viewpoints in the classroom (pp. 139, 158-64). Here they draw on Stephen Cahn’s Saints and Scamps: Ethics in Academia (Rowman and Littlefield, 2010). Cahn defends the introduction of personal opinions in the university classroom but argues that this must be done in such a way as to follow what he calls “an academic golden rule,” grounded in a general concept of fairness or justice (p. 158). Alternative viewpoints on any subject must be presented and these need to be treated fairly. I would add that in order to be fair the Christian teacher must also raise objections to his or her own perspective.

G&A also argue that the religious identity of teachers can be allowed to shape the way they design a course (pp.164-7). But again this must be done in accordance with the principle of fairness. For example, in teaching foundational ethics courses I included a section on religious ethics and would try to find texts that had some readings on Christian ethics, given that this was the religion most students would be familiar with. Then in the interest of fairness I encouraged students to raise objections to Christian ethics and would also do this myself. I also concluded my introductory ethics courses with what I told my students was a “philosophical sermon” – how scandalous! I issued a very personal challenge to students to live the moral life. In doing so, I also explored the difficulties inherent in accepting this challenge, including the problem of moral failure. And then, very briefly, I would mention the need for forgiveness when we experience guilt as a result of moral failure. I would then review a variety of options in dealing with forgiveness, including the idea of a super-cosmic Forgiver. You could usually hear a pin drop during this final lecture in my ethics courses (see The Scandal of Evangelism, p. 160).

One student, in an evaluation of one of my ethics courses wrote, “This was a great class, Dr. Thiessen. Unfortunately, you opened (up) my conscience; is there another class I could take so I can shut it off!” Unfortunately, I didn’t offer such a course, because I believe in teaching from and for commitment.

Until quite recently, little has been written about Christian teaching. Much of the focus has been on the nature of Christian scholarship. The Outrageous Idea of Christian Teaching is a welcome addition to the recent interest in the notion in Christian teaching. Much of past writing on Christian scholarship and the more recent work on Christian teaching has focussed on the Christian college and university. G&A are to be commended for including a treatment of Christians teaching at pluralistic universities in the volume under review. However, I think there is still more to be done by way of nuancing the discussion of the extent to which a Christian teacher’s identity can shape what he or she does while teaching at pluralistic colleges and universities.

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