Life has many commonalities that transcend culture and time. One customary facet of human development that most people have experienced throughout history involves the educational process (both for the secular and the sacred). Sadly, over the past several decades, too many students have entered into educational environments that were academically superficial (or skewed) and came out of the journey missing the very aspects that their schooling was designed for—the acquisition of a thorough consideration of valuable knowledge for productive personal and public use. Thus, the importance of proper educational presuppositions—especially concerning seminary goals and methods—has never been so evident as when considering the radical personal approach that postmodernity currently offers to twenty-first century seekers.
For decades, a populist movement has grown within Western society, with frustrated individualists actively working to throw off the modernist cloak of scholarly tradition that vexes them and hampers their proclivities (because of traditions’ embrace of archetypes, evidence, and restricted social avenues). Rather, they seek educational institutions with “fresh” conceptions of schooling. In Christian circles, this overlaps with people’s religious edification at church and in seminaries. One could consider this new postmodern perspective to be a hybrid of Christian existentialism and practical theology.
Many scholars would agree that for most progressives, traditional Protestantism carries with it a stereotype of vaulted religion that is all talk and no action (or too much talk and too much action). In the seeker’s mind, the sterile, stifling, and rigid environments that surround traditional seminaries can hamper and hinder their personally prescribed walk(s) with God. They often feel frustrated and frenzied because of their loss of self-control and self-direction.[1]
In rebellion and opposition to their perceived outdated academies, these postmodern “splitters” have broken off from traditional orthodoxy to find (or form) their own viable centers of theological reflection. These new learning bodies tend to sponsor apologetical flexibility, alternative spirituality toleration, heterodox beliefs regarding biblical interpretations, and unfettered theological acceptance of all recruits.[2]
With this new progressive attitude, they attract and increase enrollment (at least, initially) by providing more of a relational than an overarching doctrinal approach to theological studies, offering students degree programs that are ostensibly more individualistic and personally pleasing than rigorous and thorough, scholastically. As Schaeffer puts it, “Sadly enough, there is a kind of an anti-intellectualism among many Christians: spirituality is falsely pitted against intellectual comprehension as though they stood in a dichotomy. Such anti-intellectualism cuts away at the very heart of the Christian message.”[3]
As with any movement, though, there are problems associated with this new direction of religious learning. Specifically, whenever one moves away from the right, there is the danger of landing too far to the left. Supporting this, toleration and acceptance done in love and with biblical understanding are required in traditional Christian praxis but taken too far (2 John 1:9), they can be harmful if not even heretical. As C. S. Lewis wrote, “The heart never takes the place of the head: but it can, and should, obey it.”[4] A church full of emotion and compassion is a good thing, but when accommodation and hysteria overtake reason, it can lead to a shallow, imbalanced understanding that only tickles the ear (2 Timothy 4:3).
To counter this, Parker Palmer’s book, To Know As We Are Known, addresses these issues by offering academic understanding and commonsense guidance over what good teachers—and good educational institutions—embrace and exhibit. He begins his exploration by focusing on the archetypical foundations of learning and the dangers of the hyper-personalized ones.
The old adage suggests that knowledge is power, and Palmer recognizes this axiom. Many students work to increase their academic understanding only to increase their personal empowerment at work, at church, or in general society. Unfortunately, this political self-promotion can occur because of more than just the student’s selfish wants and demands. Often, the students become the product of the learning environment that has been designed to program them to think with a myopic agenda in mind (either of the institution or the student him/herself).
For the sake of clarity (and one quite relevant to seminary life), Palmer defines the beneficial teacher-student experience as “the study of sacred texts, the practice of prayer and contemplation, and the gathered life of the community itself.”[5] Thus, the student will be sitting on a three-legged stool, but if one of the legs is too long or too short, it can divert the student’s attention away from important facets of education.
Palmer goes on to expand upon these important truths of education and brings up the issue of objectivism versus subjectivism. He deliberates on the attributes and impossibility of being objective but also on the biased dangers of being too subjective. He offers, “The teacher is a mediator between the knower and the known, between the learner and the subject to be learned.”[6] With this in mind, it becomes a challenge to be completely objective, for the teachers cannot divorce themselves from the knowledge, but neither should they approach the matter solely focused upon themselves. This could lead to egotism and abuse. Palmer’s final advice is to embrace the knowledge—and to let it sink in deep and to engage it, personally and reasonably.
There are many different ways of acquiring knowledge and Palmer warns against taking the safe, secure road of theoretical conventionality alone. Instead, he suggests making the knowledge matter in the heart for, truly, “to learn is to face transformation.”[7] If students are to grow in knowledge, their learning should make a difference in their own lives—and others’ lives, too. If nothing happens, then the information passed on has been pointless and just a vain pursuit.
If transmitting and receiving knowledge is so important, then, Palmer suggests various techniques for encouraging good teaching and good learning. He states, “Both obedience and understanding imply submitting ourselves to something larger than any one of us, something on which we all depend.”[8] A proper humble attitude is crucial to making the educational process a success. The teacher and the student must be self-aware enough to not let their egos get in the way of discovering truth. Neither should the teacher or student allow their fears to determine the limits of their educational involvement.
Academic or scholarly equilibrium seems to be the key. This balance is not just to be in the teacher’s approach to the student but even more so in the whole educational environment that the student steps into. Palmer proclaims, “I am calling for teachers who bring the audience into the play, who create the space that draws students, teacher, and subject alike into truth’s own drama.”[9] Seminary students need to be made aware that learned truths and fallacies daily affect their lives. They need not fear truth; rather, they need to embrace truth and trust in it (John 14:6).
Finally, Palmer sums up this powerful pedagogy when he says, “The true professor is not one who controls facts and theories and techniques. The true professor is one who affirms a transcendent center of truth, a center that lies beyond our contriving, that enters history through the lives of those who profess it and brings us into community with each other and the world.”[10] These ideas are quite astute and yet so many professors are oblivious of their significance and requirements. Lectures are often given to promote personal agendas. Professing often becomes pontification solely to boost their egos. Personal partisanship often replaces proper education with proselytizing within the classroom. Tragically, professors such as these ignore the responsibilities of their position and abuse it (and their students).
Fortunately, books like Palmer’s (from authors such as C. S. Lewis, Oswald Chambers, Bruce Wilkinson, Nancy Pearcey, and the like) offer a lens of sensible guidance for being a good teacher (and a good student). The suggestions in To Know As We Are Known are powerful; a teacher or student who follows Parker’s admonitions will surely experience greater, more productive opportunities and an insurance of a full and meaningful educational experience—if they take the chance. Of course, which is riskier—to call oneself a teacher and yet not to actually teach truths, or to call oneself a teacher and to try to make a difference in a student’s educational life? Similarly, which is riskier—to call oneself a student and yet not be opened to fully learning, or to call oneself a student and humbly try to expand the understanding of oneself, God, and how the world operates (and why)?
Seeking truth (especially biblical truth) can be a scary pursuit that demands bravery but being courageous is not just being unafraid. Being a courageous teacher, then, is purposely teaching in ways that challenge students’ childish presuppositions, even when that pedagogy might evoke political or emotional responses. Likewise, being a courageous student, then, is being willing to hear new (and old) concepts that push back against any comfortable, deeply trenched personal understandings of Christianity and human existence.
Finally, it probably goes without saying that any good teaching or learning in a seminary rests, relies, and submits to the time-honored and proven divine resource of spiritual authority and proper praxis—the Bible. As Solomon wrote long ago, “Let the wise listen and add to their learning, and let the discerning get guidance—for understanding proverbs and parables, the sayings and riddles of the wise. The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge, but fools despise wisdom and instruction” (Proverbs 1:5–7, New American Standard Bible). Still, this is an excellent ongoing challenge for all teachers and seekers in the postmodern age. Even further, it embodies the spirit of a seminary after God’s own heart and His mission on earth.
(Originally published in the Log College & Seminary journal, Theolog 1:1, Spring 2021)
[1] John S. Knox, Sacro-Egoism: The Rise of Religious Individualism in the West (Wipf and Stock, 2016), 55.
[2] Paul Heelas, Linda Woodhead, Benjamin Seel, Bronislaw Szerszynski, and Karin Tusting, The Spiritual Revolution: Why Religion is Giving Way to Spirituality (Blackwell, 2005), 68–74.
[3] Francis Schaeffer, A Christian View of the Church (Crossway, 1994), 261.
[4] C. S. Lewis, The Abolition of Man (Macmillan, 1978), 29–30.
[5] Parker Palmer, To Know as We Are Known: A Spirituality of Education (HarperOne, 2010), 17.
[6] Ibid., 29.
[7] Ibid., 29.
[8] Ibid., 40.
[9] Ibid., 67.
[10] Ibid., 79.