Catholicism and Catholic Education

Though it was clear by the looks on some faces that several of you would not agree with me, I thought that class last night went well.  Practically speaking, we seemed to settle on an approach to our final group project.  Later today I will send an email with the group opportunities we discussed.  I also enjoyed the discussion about Catholicism, education, and the Catholic Worker movement, though (again) I realize that may just be me.

 

Because “religion” can be so personal, it is a difficult subject to “teach.”  Give a bad grade in a religion course, and you run the risk of arguing with a student about her or his faith or personal experience.  It’s true, experiences like those comprise the foundation of religious motives and beliefs, and any serious student of religion is obliged to listen to them carefully.  Grading them, however, can be tricky.

 

I thought that many of you did a fine job with this post because you established some connections between your more personal experiences and the more “objective” content of religion.  Jenn noted that there are important differences between a public school where religion may be carefully avoided and a private one where it is an open topic.  Camila, who was very open about her decision to remain independent of traditional religious beliefs and practices, nevertheless wrote about the value of studying religion as part of an academic program.  Obviously, I agree, and I think that our contemporary world bears out that value; we are not mired in problems in the Middle East, for instance, because we have succeeded as students of Christianity, Judaism, and Islam.

 

To “study” religion is to raise a lot of questions, which I suppose is why many today would rather set the academic approach aside and pursue religion as a personal matter.  Brita’s comment that some (maybe many) have come to Loras to avoid having their faith challenged is very perceptive.  Typically, I try first to build upon what such students have learned elsewhere and, given time, to point out where certain beliefs—which they have held for so long—might not be very consistent.

 

Hence the value of a comment like Jill’s-- that she looks for the place of scripture in Catholicism but everywhere she turns she only finds saints and statues of Mary and a pontiff in Rome.  At the very least, an observation like that should make Catholics aware that they are perceived differently than they see themselves; at best, such a claim should encourage the faithful to think about whether they have neglected certain aspects of a divine revelation that never fits neatly into the packages we provide for it. 

 

I understand those packages to be something like what Ryan means when he talks about “absolutes.”  They are the ideas and practices that we are certain of until God comes along and disturbs our slumber.  To think about religion—in this case, to study Catholic Christianity as an academic discipline—is to resign oneself to the “Catholic soup” that Maria writes about.  It’s mixed up and confusing (kind of like a Catholic Worker House).  But it does provide one of the best environments for seeing others for the people they are.  I find that swimming in the soup leads me to focus on the fact that we’re all in the same pot.  Thus, “drug addicts or single pregnant teens,” as Jeff writes, become more easily recognized as people.  Or as Ralph Ellison would say, they stop being “invisible.”

Politics and Power

Because this blog responds to others from the class (probably not the best use of this tool, but I kind of like it), I want to begin with a few general comments about recent work. Generally, I want to say that I continie to be impressed by your weekly efforts; however, this is also a chance for me to admonish that some of you have to push yourselves harder. I'll be sending out emails to some individuals reminding them that failure to post will lower their grades; others will receive an email encouraging them to add more substance to posts--they're getting thin on both details and insights. Finally, I'll add here that late posts by some mean that others can't reply on time--it's not fair to make them check blogs repeatedly to see if a post is ready.

Now, you've probably noticed that I have been trying to organize my responses to postings by calling attention both to patterns across all the comments as well as individual insights. I've tried to spread my references around, because so many of you make excellent points. Please understand that, if I don't refer specifically to your blog, it doesn't mean that I have not appreciated your comments.

Let me begin with the patterns I saw. There aren't many of you who like politics, and this election season isn't helping your dispositions any. I admit that I share your frustration, though I probably enjoy all this election stuff more than most (though I also get angrier than most at certain candidates and the coverage provided by speicfic networks--but that's another story). The political process and all of the rhetoric associated with it matters so much, I think, because, like it or not, democracy is based on words. The US is an outstanding example of that fact: our nation is founded on texts; we have no other basis for authority (though many other bases get trotted out every four years). So I think it not only matters what is said during an election season but how it is said. When Jefferson writes "We hold these truths" he is using a metaphor (we don't literally "hold" truths). Who would have preferred him to have written "We think these truths?"

In addition to using your blogs to share your feelings about national politics, you also noted that the term "politics" is much bigger than what happens in Washington. It can provide "structure," as Camila and Jill wrote; it implies a hierarchy, as Jenn noted (while describing a pecking order that leads me to think she goes home at night and kicks her cat); it is both positive an negative, as Ryan said (it builds buildings but also causes us to "lose ourselves"); it's frequently a topic of conversation as off-limits as "religion" (Caitlin) or "weight" (as Jime noted).

Within all of these other descriptions, many of you stressed the very point I was hoping you would: politics is about power. It is closely related to a term like "influence," as Abby said. And I would agree with Brita that it is all over Invisible Man. I think it comes out most forcefully in that book in the descriptions of relationships that the narrator has. At times, such as the description of the union meeting, it is an obvious force; at other points it is less obvious. Is power (and politics) a part of love? Is it wired into all of our conversations about a topic like race or, even more frightfully, is it present whenever we even look at (or are perceived by) someone of another race?

Many of you struggled to describe the role of politics or power at your service site, and I can understand why. Kate F. spoke about it, as did Russ, who noted a really interesting exchange at St. Pat's about the national election. In Russ's description, I was struck by how easy it is for people (myself included) to fixate on one individual as a symbol of the kind of power I either do or don't like.

Once again, my hat is off to all of you for staying with this weekly project. It won't last until the end of the semester; we'll break to we can push toward the final project. Please watch for a few emails from me; I have some information about the Saturday project and I have some ideas about how we can assign roles for this final project and maybe get it finished on time (such is my power over you). Take care. jw

Your service

I'm sure that many of you thought you were doing little more than filling up space during this class blog; after all, it's still very early in your time at your service site.  For some, it was a break through week just to find and visit a site that could help open this world up to you.  For a few, the break through was disappointing, since it meant that you discovered your site to be kind of dull and monotonous.

My first response to those who are struggling with their site is to turn your attention as best you can to the people around you.  Get their stories--where they came from, how they landed here in Dubuque; if they are workers at your site, what have they seen over the years; if they are people in need, what are their hopes and dreams?  I thought that the best parts of all the blogs were those moments when writers described their contact with others, even if the contact was brief. So, some really good postings and comments came from the instances when, for example, those of you at St. Pat's watched the faces around you.  What a surprise to see that the faces "looked like me," that they were the faces of families and, (shame on us) of veterans.  It was interesting to read that Tyler found them courteous, Russ kind of rude, and that Brita noted the similarities between the bossy attitude of some and the nasty disposition of that old man who stayed with Dorothy Day at the Catholic Worker House.  Nice connections.

It never occurred to me that "looking around" at a service site and at the people in it could invite a comparison with Invisible Man until I read David's post and Katie B's response to it.  At first it was amazing to read from David that children would so quickly see color, not just the whiteness of the other person but the blackness of their own skin.  Then it was surprising to read Katie's observation from the book Blink, which points out that we all see color this way,it's just that get really good and quick at such looks over the course of our lifetimes.  Then I realized this is what Ellison is talking about: that "blink" during which our brains register skin color and associate a long list of qualities.  Throughout that process, people remain "invisible" to us.

Although my basic advice still holds--look around you at your site--I did notice the many good insights people had from seeing the people around them in wider contexts than just their service sites.  For example, I do agree that it is important to think about and to write about the bigger problems that result from language barriers, health care unavailability, lack of transportation, organizational inertia, etc.    As we write next about politics, these observations are right on target.

Nice work, everyone.  See you soon.  jw

Catholic Identity and Loras

Hi folks:

It's late and I'm preparing to leave town tomorrow, but I did not want to go without commenting on your last postings about Catholic identity at Loras.  I was very interested in what you all had to say.

If I could organize some of the topics you raised, I'd probably start by noting that most of you separated Catholic identity into two areas: the impact of Catholicism on society (via the ideas and actions associated with Catholic social teachings) and the influence of the tradition on the way people think.  Everyone had something positive to say about the first area; the second met with a mixed response, though most were not happy with what they experienced here on campus.

I share many of your hopes and concerns.  Based on my own background (including age), I would add that I have recognized a profound change in the Church during my lifetime and, by extension, in Catholic higher education as well.  For example, this is the first time in the 16 years I have been teaching that I find myself looking out at students who are more conservative in their beliefs than I am.  Now, I realize that this is a broad statement subject to lots of qualifications: that certainly in not true in all classes (like ours, for instance) and no doubt it isn't true at all Catholic colleges.  But, I will say that, among students at Loras who truly are interested in matters related to religion, it is almost universally true.

Of course, I see the college through the classroom, and that is not necessarily the lens students use.  I was puzzled about how to make sense of many of the comments I was reading until I hit upon something Tyler wrote.  In his blog, he distinguished between the possibility of discussing controversial topics in the classroom but also the difficulty of doing so outside of class within the wider campus community.  So, in class you could find yourselves analyzing the position of the Church on women's ordination and discovering that this is a topic that has much more to do with historical choices and theological consistency than with, say, scriptural accuracy.  But once class was over, you would not really find forums on campus where you continue that discussion.  The reasons for this absence include things many of you mentioned: donors wouldn't like it, the local Church might not be comfortable, administrators may be nervous, and (here's where my earlier point about a more conservative student body comes into play) lots of your peers would be indignant.  Extend  your list of classroom topics to areas like homosexuality and abortion/contraception, and the indignant attitudes turn angry quickly.  Much of this begins to sound like what our narrator faced with Dr. Bledsoe.

I do not have an answer to this dilemma, though I really want to thank all of you for helping me understand it better.  I wonder if part of what Loras needs to do is (as Amanda suggested) stop making other faiths invisible.  To put it more positively, I wonder if we should begin really looking at others rather than looking for what we think we know already about them.  The Socratic approach that Nussbaum writes about is essential for such a goal, but I also think that Catholicism can be extremely helpful too.  It sounds like one approach would be to stretch this academic value into other parts of campus life, creating a more informed faith.

I hope we can continue this conversation as the class rolls along.  jw

 forwhere all of you Still, the Church has taken a decided turn toward a more strict orthodixy