"Christian" Education: Jerusalm v. Athens

Education is a murky subject when the word “Christian” precedes it as an adjective. I’m not a big fan of separating Jerusalem and Athens. I understand the two are different, but when we compare and contrast them, we find they are extremely similar. In fact, I think they are not two things we should seek to join. Rather, they are two examples of the same thing: institutions or movements of faith and reason. How unfortunate, then, when I replace Jerusalem and Athens with Tertullian’s next infamous binary: the Church and the Academy. Those institutions are very different today than when Tertullian referenced them, for the Church birthed its own academy (perhaps from relations with the academy of which Tertullian spoke) that grew up and separated from it, as children are wont to do. With the Church and its separate academy in place, division emerges amidst the people involved in one, the other, and both.

Introduce any “Christian education” into this divisive mix and you have at least three groups seeking some sort of education based on their idea of Christian. Those three groups are those who attend the local church; those who attend the local church and have or are going to an academy, “Christian” or otherwise, and want to blend or merge the church and academy; and those who associate with and promote the academy over against the local church.

After some reading for class, I realized I mistrust the church's role in education. But I shouldn't have to. People don't go to the church for education. We go for community, for programs, for a positive environment for our kids (lol), and sometimes we even go for worship. We hardly even go for education when we attend Sunday school.

Education implies involvement and dedication. You surely can learn a lot at church and in Sunday school when everyone brings their experiences and thoughts to the table. But, sometimes we need to go outside ourselves and study. If people are dedicated to studying, then we can really engage each other in Sunday school. Sunday school could be a place for education and free thought, not indoctrination (concerning indoctrination, be on the lookout for a forthcoming blog: Inevitable Indoctrination).

Sure, Sunday school and church allow for some free thought. But in my reading, a group of writers determined missions education was only successful when a certain response was elicited from the education. I don't think education should have a predetermined response. In the text I read, "true missions education is a continuous action culminating in a missions lifestyle" (Terry). I think true missions education would lead in the students making their own decisions about missions, as with any type of education.

I mistrust the local church as much as I mistrust the academy. However unfortunate, the academy generally has the upper hand regarding education and theory, whereas the church generally has the upper hand in praxis. This unbalance leads to an ivory tower for the academy, and a local church that indoctrinates (and, hence, promotes) instead of educates. This unbalance creates an imbalance within the church itself, which is why I am hesitant with the church. The church’s internal imbalance is of power, a power where the church interprets itself as a leader, not a servant.

For example, Bosch says the church idealy “engages and challenges the world” (385). What about love? I am not against being involved in “God’s mission” per se (whatever that means), but when that involvement becomes leadership instead of service, then I question the conception of “God’s mission,” at the very least. Call it “God’s mission” or just call it the “Christian life” or “Christian journey” (cf. Bosch 472), I think we—the church, the academy, followers of Christ—should love and serve God, humanity, and all creation. And as far as I can tell, Jesus served people in this life before he tried to influence someone’s eternity, if he tried to influence their eternity (cf. Snyder qtd. in Bosch 378).

A Shift

I had another "vision" recently (to see why I put the word "vision" in quotes, see this blog). I was reading David Bosch's Transforming Mission while riding inside a Boeing airplane as it landed. The following unfolds my unfolding and refolding "vision."

I envisioned the end of the so-called "Christian academy," with the continuance of the church and the academy.

The idea scares me a little. Imagine the job loss, the slew of people applying for the few jobs open at the remaining colleges and universities. Hopefully the other private and public academies could hire more employees as Christians started attending other schools. The transition would take forever, if it were possible at all. Perhaps my vision is more of a way things could have been. Perhaps it is a vision of a way things could be, in some places.

Imagine towns like Boiling Springs as they writhe in the loss of their local economy. Imagine the buildings searching for purpose.

Outside the horror of this impossible transition, things would be set right.

Young Christians like myself would no longer separate themselves from the world with the invisible, permeable wall we build around our Christian institutions. Although I know people with a diverse set of beliefs, all but a few are self-proclaimed Christians. Such a situation cannot be what Paul meant when he wrote the famous statement about being in the world, but not of it. On the flip side, young Christians would be forced to create koinonia and forced to engage in a practical life of Christianity as they interact with the world.

The academy will then have a more proper separation from the church, because it will not be a schismatic event within the church. Instead of being a body divorcing, it will be natural. It will be a separation because the two are not of the kind that they can be one. Like a table cannot be a human, that Church cannot be one with the Academy.

Imagine a church that handles education--all the education. A church that teaches New and Old Testament classes with or without indoctrination, with or without possibilities, and with or without forums. A church that attempts to prepare the congregation to engage in ideas that are threatening to each Christian's private faith--or more importantly, a church that is available to engage those threatening ideas in a responsible way.

Imagine. Just imagine the possibilities and the consequences--the bad and the good, in all their (im)possibility.

Urinals & Church

I was at the Broad River Coffee Company this evening. Sometimes I feel like I will do more homework if I get out of my apartment, because I let my mind wander and my emotions wallow if I stay in my apartment, my safe place. The coffee shop helps, sometimes.

About halfway through my second cup of coffee, I got up to use the restroom, probably for the third time. The floor in the bathroom had just been mopped and I was pleased to stand near the urinal thinking all the pee splatter had been mopped up, which means it was mixed with soap and water and then spread all over the floor. And I began to think about the various reasons pee could get all over a men's-room floor.

I think it has little to do with aim, because the stream sometimes comes out in unexpected directions. Other times it is partly the fault of the guy. Maybe he stands too far away from the urinal and drips a little directly onto the floor. Sometimes an attempt to shake out the last few drops can send a drop of urine on the pants, shoes, or floor. You've got to be careful with the shake. And since urine is a liquid flowing with force from a small hole, physics dictates that the liquid will splatter after hitting its destination, be it the urinal cake, the wall of the urinal, or the puddle of toilet water near the drain.

I bet splatter is the main cause of urine on men's-room floors and I also bet a lot of study has gone into this issue. You might even say there are different urinal theories based on the many styles of urinals you see. It isn't as if urinals are designed to be aesthetically pleasing. No, they are designed in order to catch as much splatter as possible while also taking up as little space as possible. Or, so I presume. I haven't taken a class in urinalology ... yet.

And then I thought of the urinal fly, which is a great idea. I was at an airport once and noticed a fly in the urinal. Naturally, I aimed for it. It didn't move, though. I was pretty sure any live fly would either fly away or fall after being hit with the force of a stream of pee. Then I wondered if the fly was dead and squished against the urinal wall. Who would squish a fly inside of a urinal? Like any man would do, I changed my aim a little, thinking some indirect pressure might free the dead creature from the wall to the drain below. As I was investigating the fly with my pee, I decided it must be some sort of sticker or image printed on the porcelain, this decision made as any more investigatory urinating would require more ammo and result in me playing with myself (I hear it falls of if you do that and I certainly didn't want it to come off, especially not in an airport urinal). When finished, a few drops shaken onto the floor, another falling on on my thigh, I noticed similar fly images in each of empty urinals.

When I got back from the bathroom and returned to my studying--we're back in the coffee shop now, not the airport--I read about the Church. I'm sure I could make a lot of cheesy connections between urinals, the Church, and aim, but I'm afraid of being struck by lightning (or ignorance). The following sentences caught my eye:

"Throughout most of the church's history its empirical state has been deplorable. This was already true of Jesus' first circle of disciples and has not really changed since. We may have been fairly good at orthodoxy, at 'faith,' but we have been poor in respect of orthopraxis, of love. Van der Aalst reminds us that there have been countless councils on right believing; yet no council has ever been called to work out the implications of the greatest commandment--to love one another."

Bosch, the author of the text, and Van der Aalst with him probably aren't suggesting we--here come the puns--toss faith and belief down the pisser or flush the fly out with the toilet water (I couldn't resist). But can you imagine what would have been the result of a bunch of Evangelicals getting together and not writing a manifesto and worrying about identity, but rather making a plan of how to change the world, letting anyone and everyone help them. What if the Pope called for a council that was only concerned with enacting love and embodying Christ, that is, agape? What if we didn't hear sermons about doctrine, but about how we could love and these sermons were followed by groups of people--you and me included--flocking outside the church walls instead of being concerned about what goes on inside those damned boundaries--groups of people who didn't change things inside the church so that people would come, but went out and just loved on some people.

Love. Period.

You. Me.

Imagine.

That's fly.