Poetic Knowledge: Two Illustrations of How We Should Teach

(via Wikimedia commons)

I've been thinking a bit recently about poetic knowledge and its significance for life-changing learning.  In this post I will give a definition and two examples of how poetic knowledge differs from "head" knowledge and offer two simple ideas of how as teachers we can become more poetic in our instruction.

For a definition of poetic knowledge, I turn to Dr. James Taylor (no, not that James Taylor):

Poetic experience indicates an encounter with reality that is nonanalytical, something that is perceived as beautiful, awful (awe-full), spontaneous, mysterious… Poetic knowledge is a spontaneous act of the external and internal senses with the intellect, integrated and whole, rather than an act associated with the powers of analytic reasoning… It is, we might say, knowledge from the inside out, radically different from a knowledge about things. In other words, it is the opposite of scientific knowledge.

We have to be very careful with this definition or we risk doing great violence science itself. Taylor's definition concludes with a simple antonym to poetic knowledge: "it is the opposite of scientific knowledge." This is what Taylor means: we can know "with our head" or we can know "with our entire selves". This is the key: true, deep knowledge cannot be divorced from the head (it is not anti-rational or anti-"fact"), however, true knowledge also cannot be only, or even primarily, based in the mind and aimed at the other from a distance. True knowledge comes from coming close to another (whether it be a person, an animal, or a volcano).  Imagine saying that you "know" a woman whom you have never met because you have seen her lab work on a chart or know her DNA chain. Imagine saying that you know what a sunset or symphony is because someone has described the facts of the light and notes. This is the point Taylor is making.

Following are two illustrations of this distinction in types of knowing from the world of science and literature. First I want to demonstrate a volcanologist and PhD student from Cambridge experiencing poetic knowledge:

I want to highlight two moments. The first is at 1:40 when the PhD student is speaking. Look at his face; he can barely contain his joy. Listen to his word choice, "incredible," "special," "exciting," and "odd feeling." This is not the diction of the head or of the "unbiased observer". It is the language of the heart and the soul. Next notice that his mentor echoes him, having studied volcanoes for 40 years and finally getting to experience one! His language illustrates this key break in terms of knowledge even more perfectly! He says, "So, professionally I knew all about it, technically, scientifically, but actually experiencing it is a visceral experience, if I can put it that way, because it assaults all your senses at once." (Emphasis original) This is exactly the dichotomy Taylor laid out: the head versus the experiential knowledge of the whole person that coming into real contact with the Other gives.

Secondly, I turn to Dickens and his novel Hard Times, where we see the British master painting a picture of the preference for scientific knowledge over poetic in the schoolmasters of his day:

Thomas Gradgrind, sir. A man of realities. A man of facts and calculations. A man who proceeds upon the principle that two and two are four, and nothing over, and who is not to be talked into allowing for anything over. Thomas Gradgrind, sir—peremptorily Thomas—Thomas Gradgrind. With a rule and a pair of scales, and the multiplication table always in his pocket, sir, ready to weigh and measure any parcel of human nature, and tell you exactly what it comes to. It is a mere question of figures, a case of simple arithmetic.

For Gradgrind even humans are just "facts" in bodies, ready to be measured and divided using arithmetic. We are then introduced to his interaction with his students, "the little pitchers before him, who were to be filled so full of facts," with him looking forward to blowing them out of childhood by removing their "tender young imaginations." A sample of his teaching follows as he interacts with "Sissy," whose father works with horses and who is intimately familiar with them, and Bitzer, a pupil more to his liking. He instructs Sissy,

'Give me your definition of a horse.’
(Sissy Jupe thrown into the greatest alarm by this demand.)

‘Girl number twenty unable to define a horse!’ said Mr. Gradgrind, for the general behoof of all the little pitchers. ‘Girl number twenty possessed of no facts, in reference to one of the commonest of animals! Some boy’s definition of a horse. Bitzer, yours.’ ...

‘Quadruped. Graminivorous. Forty teeth, namely twenty-four grinders, four eye-teeth, and twelve incisive. Sheds coat in the spring; in marshy countries, sheds hoofs, too. Hoofs hard, but requiring to be shod with iron. Age known by marks in mouth.’ Thus (and much more) Bitzer.
‘Now girl number twenty,’ said Mr. Gradgrind. ‘You know what a horse is.’

Of course the reader is in on the tragic joke that Sissy knows infinitely more about horses than Bitzer and Gradgrind combined. She knows their sounds, scents, and majesty. She knows awe. But her "un-scientific" knowledge is not only inferior, it is not even knowledge according to Gradgrind. ("Now you know what a horse is.")

What does it look like as teachers and parents to continually introduce our children to real knowledge, knowledge that humbles them as they learn, because they are coming into contact with the things themselves, which are so much more than just the facts? In the very least it looks like getting out into the world for science and getting into the Great Books for literature and grammar. Instead of textbooks, let's get out to the volcanoes and into the books that change us as we interact with them.

Summer Projects

Growing up, my brothers and I mowed lawns. Year round. In the Texas heat. It was great. We learned more in that Texas sun than I can appreciate even now. For example, I learned about aiming at a long-range target in the context of our family heritage from my Dad: "Uncle Bob taught me this when riding the tractor on the farm. You have to aim at a far-off fence post. If you look only at the next bit of grass, your lines will never be straight." I still think about that lesson every time I mow my lawn. We learned about working for want you needed (school clothes and shoes) and wanted (Nerf guns and CDs). We learned a lot about dignity and responsibility. And I learned about skin cancer. (Ouch.)

In the move to South Carolina, perhaps the most unexpected joy has come from working on the lawn, the plumbing, and the car. While I did grow up working on lawns and landscaping, working on a car or any kind of plumbing has been brand new. However, when you don't have money to call out the plumber, what are you going to do? Be blessed in a very unexpected way. So, here are images of the plumbing I've gotten to work on this summer. Please note: I HAVE NEVER DONE ANY OF THESE THINGS. EVER. Not cutting or repairing dry wall, plumbing, using a reciprocating saw. NOTHING.

First, we realized that we had a very slowly draining tub (I have decided against posting the gross image here. Trust me, it was gross.). So, I tried to snake it to no avail. It was time to go in and check out the U-bend, which I learned about from an episode of This Old House. So... Time to cut into the basement ceiling under the tub.

And cut out the suspected section.

As soon as the saw started to cut into that cast iron, I got pretty nervous. This had gotten real.

As the drill went through, I was guessing that there was some serious grime built up in the 60 years of the house's existence. (Brown = yucky stuff)

Then in investigating the pipe, I realized there was just a ton of gunk built up. So I built a replacement pipe

and installed it.

Then, while checking and double checking for leaks, I found a drip coming from the tub upstairs. And discovered that someone had already found it...

...and did a crappy patch job rather than fixing the problem. So I took out the stem and bought a new O-ring (for $0.37!). 

And then it was time to test and re-test for any leak. And then I cut and installed new dry wall.

I tried to do the textured finish on the dry wall. I tried. :-)

So what did I glean from this and my other experiences? Here are some thoughts. 

1. It took a fun combination of courage and gusto to go for it. In the end, I was able to rationalize that I probably wouldn't do so much damage that I would cost myself more in the end if I did have to call out a plumber and contractor. They would have to cut into that ceiling anyways, right? (Right?) 

2.  I also had to be ok with the fact that I would mess up somewhere. I wish the dry wall looked perfect. But it doesn't. I'm ok with that. I think Lesley is too. I hope. 

3. I had to be able to follow directions and ask for help. This was a communal project. From watching Youtube videos, to borrowing a friend's reciprocating saw, to asking the burly gents at the plumbing supply shop for tips on the bath stem, to borrowing a neighbor's truck, this was an inherently non-individual effort. 

4. I had to delight in the unknown and try to figure it out.
5. Sometimes you fail. After hours of sweat and trying. I do not like failing. I was humbled by working on the car. But I did learn about the way some parts of the car work, and that is good. I failed to replace the studs on the car, but I learned how to take off and replace the brake pads for the future. There was growth in the midst of failure

I absolutely loved doing my projects this summer. Not only did I save some money, but I was blessed by getting to be a reparative creator. It was delightful to fix something by mimicking the actual professional who installed that pipe. I just had to re-make a bit of pipe according to the initial design. 

I have come to believe that one of the most de-Humanizing elements of living in an apartment is the loss of these kinds of work opportunities. (We were not allowed to work on our cars in the parking lots.) Instead of mowing a lawn and working outside, washing your car, or fixing something that went wrong, you simply called the superintendent or let the contracted lawn/snow removal company do the work. It is an inherently disconnected way to go about life. We are blessed when we get to use our hands, whether that is in restoring furniture or planting a garden. 

On Birds, Fruit, and Fruit

"Now the works of the flesh are evident: sexual immorality, impurity, sensuality, idolatry, sorcery, enmity, strife, jealousy, fits of anger, rivalries, dissensions, divisions, envy, drunkenness, orgies, and things like these. I warn you, as I warned you before, that those who do such things will not inherit the kingdom of God. But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control: against such things there is no law. And those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires." Gal 5:19-24

What does it look like to grow the virtues and the fruit of the Spirit inside of us?  What uses of our time grow us into Christ and help us kill "passions" and "desires"?

Before answering these questions we need to get some clear ideas from Galatians. If you look at the list provided of examples of living by the flesh (and Paul's summary terms "passions" and "desires" at the end of the section), you notice the concept that runs through it as the root cause is lack of self-control. The person engaging in such behavior is out of control. I immediately think of the stereotypical 18 year old freshman first heading off to college (think: Animal House) and my one year old at dinner time. There is only desire; there is only will to act in the now. The will to control and subject those desires is non-existent. When Rushing wants food he wants it NOW! Desire holds sway over the will, and wickedness and foolishness follows.

Paul bookends his list of the fruit of the Spirit with the two opposites of selfish passion: "love" and "self-control". Instead of unbridled desire, we find the character of someone driven by perspective: "What is the best thing for the other? How can I best love him? How can I be kind and gentle?" As Cornel West puts it, "Tenderness is what love looks like." So then, Paul can be summarized with the idea that, "The ungodly are lead by selfish passion and lack of wise lovingkindness, but those who are in Christ are lead by self-control and love for the other."

What should we spend our lives doing to encourage loving and gentle self-control? While watching the boys awaiting the birds this morning, I was thinking of Galatians 5 and what habits of the Spirit were being produced by birdwatching. Patience came to mind first, followed by peace and self-control. Finally though, I realized how joyful the boys are (including Rush getting so excited!) when a particularly vibrant bird comes to the feeder. (Bluejays, Cardinals, and Goldfinches are our favorites.) Seeing something wonderfully and beautifully made produces Love.

Two other activities that might produce the right kinds of fruit in your kids' lives: growing a garden and listening to classical music. Two of the blessings of growing something are that it takes you outside and it takes time. You have to be interacting with the creation and getting your hands dirty. On top of that, the growing of anything reminds us that there is a time for planting and a time for waiting and a time for harvesting, a vital lesson for learning perseverance amid suffering.

Classical music blesses us in this same way by forcing us to wait for themes to be developed throughout a work prior to reaching climax at the finale. That is, it is the exact opposite of popular music, where we are allowed to have a "finale" every 40 seconds or so. (Here is a great example. If you clicked this link, I bet you tapped your foot.) Beethoven makes me wait for 35 minutes! Who cares if that climax is so much more fulfilling?! I don't have time to wait! Many more examples come to mind: microwaves vs. charcoal, video games vs. board games, American football vs. soccer, time of "doing" vs. time for reflection and contemplation. The question to ask is, which pastimes and "hobbies" will instill in me and my children a delight in the Creator and a likeness to Christ? Pursue those things.

Richard Cory and Roland: Support and One to Grow On

For my previous post about the myth of money, I was reminded of the poem "Richard Cory" by Edwin Arlington Robinson in this morning's sermon.  As I said here, the knowledge of the failure of money to satisfy is not new (it seems to have always been a favorite reflection topic from the wise and poets). But this poem, published in 1897, is a stark example of the foolishness of longing for and envying wealth and what accompanies it.

Whenever Richard Cory went down town,
We people on the pavement looked at him:
He was a gentleman from sole to crown,
Clean favored and imperially slim.

And he was always quietly arrayed,
And he was always human when he talked,
But still he fluttered pulses when he said,
"Good-morning," and he glittered when he walked.

And he was rich--yes, richer than a king--
And admirably school in every grace:
In fine, we thought that he was everything
To make us wish that we were in his place.

So on we worked, and waited for the light,
And went without the meat and cursed the bread;
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head.

Also, looking forward to the next posts about growing our students in their likeness to Jesus:  I have been reading a good bit of medieval literature about knights and such to prepare for this year's history section at Veritas.  In the last weeks I've read Beowulf, King Arthur and His Knights of the Round Table, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, and The Song of Roland so far.  (Also, thanks to my newly received present of bagpipes, Braveheart is on in the background as I work.)

Besides feeling like I am a complete wimp (I have yet to unhorse even a single squire, nevertheless a great knight), I was struck while reading The Song of Roland how masculine and yet emotionally passionate the knights are.  I have been reminded of David and Jonathan's character and friendship a great deal. There is a rawness, an unbridled passion that exists in these Men. A few examples of how this passion comes out in what we might even consider "feminine" or "un-manly" ways, weeping and swooning.

The count Roland, when dead he saw his peers,
And Oliver, he held so very dear,
Grew tender, and began to shed a tear;
Out of his face the color disappeared;
No longer could he stand, for so much grief,
Will he or nill, he swooned upon the field. (Stanza 164)

Clear was the night, the moon shone radiant.
Charles laid him down, but sorrow for Roland
And Oliver, most heavy on him he had,
For's dozen peers, for all the for all the Frankish band
He had left dead in bloody Rencesvals;
He could not help, but wept and waxed mad,
And prayed to God to be their souls' Warrant. (Stanza 184)

It is essential to keep in mind that just prior to and following these quotations, Roland, Oliver, the Archbishop, and Charlemagne are killing men by the thousands, in especially brutal ways; we are not talking about Scarlett O'hara's fainting spells due to heat.  In the Song's vision of Men there is no problem for these valiant, virtuous men to confess their sins (or receive confession in the case of the Archbishop), ride into battle, kill the enemy, refuse to concede or retreat even when vastly outnumbered, weep and faint for lost friends, and then ride back into battle.  These men were Men.

How will we make such men and women of virtue and passion as of old? How might we disciple and train up men and women "with chests", as C. S. Lewis calls them in The Abolition of Man? We could be cynical and say that such "Great Men" never really existed, that they are a fabrication of the poet and pseudo-historian, but something deep within us testifies to the reality of the men of old. The world and God need such People badly, but institutes of education all around us are training children up in a way that will squash anything that might lead in the direction of true Humanity.  Lewis remarks:

"And all the time--such is the tragicomedy of our situation--we continue to clamor for those very qualities we are rendering impossible. You can hardly open a periodical without coming across the statement that what our civilization needs is more 'drive', or dynamism, or self-sacrifice, or 'creativity'. In a sort of ghastly simplicity we remove the organ and demand the function. We make men without chests and expect of them virtue and enterprise. We laugh at honour and are shocked to find traitors in our midst. We castrate and bid the geldings be fruitful."

More soon.

Reflection Weekend Thoughts (part 2)

"In the day-to-day trenches of adult life, there is actually no such thing as atheism. There is no such thing as not worshipping. Everybody worships. The only choice we get is what to worship. And the compelling reason for maybe choosing some sort of god or spiritual-type thing to worship--be it JC or Allah, be it YHWH or the Wiccan Mother Goddess, or the Four Noble Truths, or some inviolable set of ethical principles--is that pretty much anything else you worship will eat you alive. If you worship money and things, if they are where you tap real meaning in life, then you will never have enough, never feel you have enough. It's the truth. Worship your body and beauty and sexual allure and you will always feel ugly. And when time and age start showing, you will die a million deaths before they finally grieve you." 

-David Foster Wallace

 "Ecce, homo!" ("Behold, the Man!")  John 19:5

We are all lovers. We are all purpose driven. The question is what do we love? At what purpose are we aimed? David Foster Wallace hit it right on the mark only a few months before his tragic death. Whatever we worship, whatever we hold in awe, it will completely consume us. It will consume our passions, our time, our money, our all.  No matter who you are, or what you pretend to believe (or not believe), there is some goal you are aimed at, there is some idea of "the good life" you are pursuing.  If you don't believe me, just watch 3 commercials.  They will all paint for you a picture of the good life, the "blessed man".  Michelob Ultra will tell you that, "Blessed is the man who drinks a light beer, for he shall keep off the calories he has burned during his workout."  Lexus confesses, "Blessed is he whose sports car is perfect, for so shall he be perfect." And finally, Taco Bell preaches, "Cursed is the one who eats the food of the old, for he shall not inherit the hip-ness of the waffle taco."

These are silly examples, but one of the most important things to realize as members of Western society, is that the world all around us is built to shape the way we view "the good life".  The happy man is the man whose wife (or girlfriend) is attractive, wears the right clothes, with the right high heels, and isn't too much of a nag, especially when the guys are over.  The happy woman is she who is able to go out with her girlfriends, who is the thinnest out of those girlfriends, and for whom men buy drinks.  Underneath all of these miniature myths of "happiness" is the myth of money.

The myth of money (and its related "myth of the job") is what enables us to buy the cars, beer, clothes, workout machines/gym memberships, bikes, houses, (need I go on?) that we need to be happy. The myth of money is what holds up all of the other sub myths. Money is Zeus, and everything else springs from its head. It is to the myth of money that every presidential candidate and mayor must pay homage, "I will boost jobs and reduce unemployment"; it is to the myth of money that even universities now must submit, "96% of our graduates find job placement within a year."

However, as people and as society, we are learning that money (and the stuff and "prestige" that come with it) does not satisfy. Chuck Palahniuk put it this way,
"We are an entire generation pumping gas, waiting tables; slaves with white collars. Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy (stuff) we don't need... Our Great War's a spiritual war... We've all been raised on television to believe that one day we'd all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars. But we won't. And we're slowly learning that fact."
He is right.  The myth of money is old and dead. It perhaps hasn't been realized all the way through, but our level of decadence and depression with the myth of money is coming to its end. With what will we replace it?  Or, perhaps more to the point of this blog, what will our schools aim at, if not "good college placement so that our students can get good jobs"?

What I suggested in my last post is that we need a different aim as a school. As St. Augustine rightly observed in his Confessions, "We are all restless until we find our rest in Christ."   As a school, our aim is to make our students more Human by aiming them at Christ.  We want them to fall in love with Jesus. Our aim is to have kids walk out of our doors more Christlike than they walked in. Our aim then, in a word, is "discipleship" (from the Latin word disco-"I learn").  It is "training" or "discipline" that they need (also from disco) in the ways of true Love, as their loves and desires are horribly disordered.  They need to be trained up in the ways of true Humanity, and here is where Christ figures so centrally.

From ancient times education focused the eyes of the student on ideals.  Think of Pythagoras's pondering of triangles or the Golden Mean's hold on architecture.  The reason that art and mathematics (particularly geometry) developed to such an extent in the Greco-Roman world, and then again in the Renaissance, is that those who were studying and thinking were absolutely transfixed by the world of the ideal, by the image of perfection (remember the famous, "Is there such a thing as a 'perfect circle'?" debate).

The scholars especially would talk about what the blessed or happy or just man looks like in deed. What kind of life should you crave? What kind of person should you want your child to be? (See Juvenal's Satire X)  When we see Michelangelo's David, Michaelangelo is answering this question of the ideal as it pertains to beauty.  "What does the ideal man look like?"  This same question is answered by the Greeks with statues of Apollo and Hercules.  We might answer with a David of our own, Mr. David Beckham.  The question of beauty for women is answered in statues of Venus and in paintings of Bathsheba and Judith, Biblical characters described as especially beautiful to the eyes.  We answer with models on runways and cheerleaders on the sidelines of sporting events.

The concept of the ideal man/woman was called by the ancients the "tyrannical image".  It was literally an image/statue you couldn't hope to live up to.  It was an image that was terrible to look upon because it called you up to something higher and better than yourself, even while telling you that you could never reach that level of beauty or moral excellence. It was both infinitely encouraging and infinitely discouraging.

I want to suggest (following David Hicks) that Christ is that image for us and for our students.  He is the "tyrannical image" of MAN.  He is the second Adam. He is what we were and are supposed to be.  In Christ we see all that man's blessedness and happiness look like.  Humanity looks like living out the teachings of the Beatitudes (from beatus, which means "happy").

Before I have to sign off for this post, I want to add two rays of light to what Christ might look like as the tyrannical image.
"We are God's handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do." (Ephesians 2:10)
"Both the one who makes people holy (Christ) and those who are made holy are of the same family. So Jesus is not ashamed to call them brothers and sisters." (Hebrews 2:11)

These passages contain 2 basic elements that will shed light upon our future reflections on training our students up for following Christ: 1. God is the one who has made and is making us holy. It is through the sacrificial death of Jesus that we are made perfect. It is not our doing.  2. God very closely identifies with us ("brothers and sisters") and takes part in our working, not only with our salvation, but with what follows afterwards. This working, as the author of Hebrews makes clear later in his letter, includes both great times of success and discouraging times of failure.

Jesus as the tyrannical image of perfect Man dares to call us to to join him in his blessedness; he does not simply speak of our failure to measure up to his greatness. He calls us to join him in true Humanity as family.  The "tyranny" of the image is diminished significantly when we realize that we are his heirs and family. He died so that we too could be revealed as the glorious sons and heirs of his Kingdom.

Reflection Weekend Thoughts, part 1

Holy Face by Georges Rouault

"We must have some concept of the kind of person we wish to produce, before we can have any definite opinion as to the education which we consider best."

-Bertrand Russell

"Those who live in accordance with the Spirit have their minds set on what the Spirit desires...The mind governed by the Spirit is life and peace." "I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us. For the creation waits in eager expectation for the children of God to be revealed."
-The Apostle Paul, Romans 8

My posts this week will be a reflections stemming from our two days of teacher retreat last week.

Bertrand Russell, that philosopher who among other works penned Why I am not a Christian, could not be more right.  All education is goal oriented; it is teleologically ordered.  An apprenticeship program aimed at making HVAC repairmen will differ quite a bit from a soccer training program for FC Barcelona, and rightly so.  The aim of the one is to create a worker who knows electrical systems and common failings of machinery, the other aims at soccer tactics, fitness, and teamwork.  The one makes mechanics, the other athletes.  It is worth noting here that a football training school will be quite different from a football training school.  Preparation for American football will add in more weight training, upper body development, and quick reactions off the line, the other football will focus more on running and lower body finesse over the course of a long game. In fact, even different positions in the same sport will look at training differently. How does the goalie's education look different from the striker's? (By the way, what a performance from Tim Howard versus Belgium!)

Then the question we must ask as educators is, "What do we want to produce?" In the Christian tradition, we can ask, "What does God want us to produce?" or "For what end did the Creator create us and our students?"

These were the first ideas we talked about this past weekend, and the faculty came up with great definitions of humanity from Scripture, like:
"We are image bearers who exercise stewardship over the world as men and women." (Gen 1)
"We are glorious and bestowed with honor." (Psalm 8)
"We are the workmanship of God responsible for doing the work of God." (Eph 2:10)
"We are longing, unsatisfied, and hoping for justice. We are imperfect beings longing for perfection and beauty." (Eccl 3:11)
"We are forgetful. We are redeemed and yet often do not live that way." (Romans 12)
"Our children are gifts from the Lord and have infinite value." (Psalm 127)
"We are fragile, dependent on the Lord for life and salvation." (Job 14; Isaiah 44)

If this is who we are, then what is our purpose? Some of the purposes are already present in the "what is man?" answers. For example, if we are created to be present with the Lord but suffer from sin, we need to be perfected. We are longing for the new creation of ourselves. Here then were some of the purposes that flowed from the definitions of humanity:
"We are created to do the works Christ has laid out for us." (Eph 2:10 and Rom 4:11)
"We are created to have relationship with God. We are to know and fear him and delight in him and his creation." (Proverbs 2)
"We are to be still, be in awe, and worship." (Psalm 46)
"We are to be satisfied sitting with Christ." (Ps 65)
"We are to point others to Jesus by all means, with everything we do and are." (Matt 5:14ff)
"We are to love the Lord and those around us. We are to keep his commandments out of our love for him." (Matt 22 and Eccl 12:13)
"We are to cultivate and keep the creation as his image-bearing representatives."(Gen 2:15)

Simply put, what we are talking about is that we are to be images of God. We are to be Christlike, as Jesus the Messiah was the perfect representative and image of God. (Col 1:15)  So then, what does education look like that will cultivate and shape Humans, the sons and daughters of the second Adam? What kind of curriculum (literally, "course to be run") should be pursued if the finish line of the race course is Christlikeness?

On Inherited Truth (Tradition! Tradition!)

(Vermeer, Girl with a Pearl Earring)

I am currently working my way through Proverbs, and this morning I was struck by these verses:

"My son, keep your father's command

and do not forsake your mother's teaching.

Bind them always on your heart; 

fasten them around your neck.

When you walk, they will guide you;

when you sleep, they will watch over you;

when you awake, they will speak to you." (6:20-22)

First, I am struck by the similarity of the language of Deuteronomy 6, "These commandments...are to be on your hearts...Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. Tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads."  I am also reminded of the language of the blessed person of Psalm 1, "Blessed is the one who does not walk in step with the wicked...but whose delight is in the law of the LORD."  

The common idea that is highlighted by the beginning and end of this passage from Proverbs concerning the wisdom/instruction/teaching is that it is handed down and therefore is alive and personal.  It is given by the teacher or parent (as throughout Proverbs), from someone who knows and has walked the path.  It therefore has a voice ("they will speak to you").  The voice is to be heeded and impressed upon the heart and mind, whence it can be recalled. It is the grass of the cud.

This inherited tradition is what begins the human being on the journey of dialectic questioning.  We must have something to question. We must have a truth to kick around, probe, and attack, just as the clam must have an initial irritant or invader to begin to form the layers of the pearl.  It is in this sense that the blessed man "meditates on his law day and night." The rabbinic literature is full of rabbis and their students asking questions about the nature of cleanliness, shabat rest (and work), and the nature of idolatry and art.  It is these very questions that are often brought to Jesus. As teachers (and students ourselves) we have to be constantly ingesting the wisdom of others and hearing the voices of the greats of the past. We must then begin to chew on it, to fight it, to argue against it if we are to be nourished ourselves. We must let our students undergo this same process day in and day out. 

Grading (part 1 of ?)

I was listening to an interview of Jordan Ellenberg on NPR, and he makes a comment that when grading students' work he will only take half points off if the student tells him that "my answer is wrong, but I can't find my mistake" when the answer is nonsensical, i.e. "Suzy has -4 oz of water in her cup".

I like his idea of encouraging students to be aware of what they are doing, rather than just being breathing calculators. However, I'm not quite sure about the low level of expectations of students that giving half credit for knowing that they are wrong communicates.  However, if we look at it theologically, perhaps "apophatic mathematics" is closer to the way to go, "not made", "not possible to not sin".

On Metaphor and Gardening

Well,

One thing that I've promised is that with a move to a new state and new position is that I would be writing more. So here I am. I'll be trying to do 2 posts a week, even if they are just reaction pieces to someone else's article.

I was listening to a piece by Ken Myers (https://marshillaudio.org), and he was talking about when he first got a mentor.  I don't remember the exact lecture, but he mentioned that his mentor told him that of first importance for spiritual, personal, and (or?) professional growth was to get a hobby that involved him using his hands, such as gardening or woodworking.  I thought this was quite interesting, and it came back to me today while working outside weeding, digging a border and working outside at our new house.

As I worked I began to think about Christ's metaphors for the kingdom, including seeds, farmers with weeds, parties, and trees.  What I began to question is the common response we all get when we think about the images Jesus used. We wonder, "Why did Jesus talk so much about farmers, tenant workers and a day's wage, wicked servants, and birds in trees?"  The answer we have heard and pass on says, "Because Jesus lived in an agricultural context, so, as a good rhetor, he addressed his audience where they were. he used farmers and laborers as illustrations of the Kingdom so that those who worked in fields could understand him."

I wonder if this is so. Consider: in Matthew 22 Jesus tells of a wedding feast that a king is throwing for his son. Now, we don't have kings in America, so would Jesus simply change his metaphor? Perhaps President Obama would throw a party for a daughter? Perhaps the narrative would shift to rave at the coolest club in downtown Chicago?  Or, consider the many agricultural images used, "the flowers neither weave nor spin..." and "the birds of the air..." Would Jesus shift, or perhaps better, could Jesus shift to using images of computers, cell phones, and automobiles?

My question is this: is there something inherently more Kingdom of God in the natural world that is simply not present in the world of technology and science?  What if in order to better understand Christ in his context, and Christ in our day, we need to get our hands dirty in creation? What might this mean for curriculum and homework? Wood shop? Hunting and fishing class? A school garden?

**Update: it may have actually been a piece by Andrew Kern.