Finding Boundaries: Confessional Schools and Exploration Related to Publishing

At least I’m going to relate it to publishing. Which, if you think about it, is what I do to almost everything.

J. R. Daniel Kirk has announced he will be leaving Fuller (James McGrath comments here). You can get a feel for Dr. Kirk’s comments in Homosexuality Under the Reign of Christ on the Baker Academic web site. Yes, that’s old, but if you want to catch up with the details of the news, start from McGrath’s article. I’m already way behind.

This reminded me of a post I wrote shortly after Pete Enns lost his position at the time, Confessional Schools vs. Freedom to Explore. There is very little I’d want to add to that post, though that won’t keep me from writing many words. I would like to note that there are also boundaries to the exploration in schools that are secular, progressive, or moderate. The boundaries are just set up differently. If I might summarize, despite the fact that I had my own problems with a confessional school, as a student rather than as faculty, the pastoral concerns and responsibilities of an organization do mean that there will be some limits. Each time a professor is fired, resigns under pressure, or is edged out of one of the more conservative seminaries we have a storm of reaction. While I often sympathize with the person fired, I look back at my own choice. When I found I could no longer support the denomination in which I grew up, I left. Many years later I found another.

I even publish some authors who have lost jobs under these circumstances, and I appreciate their work very much. The fact that I publish their work should let you know that I don’t think their voices should be silenced. But while I’m often concerned by the particular boundaries set, I don’t see that confessional schools can exist without boundaries, nor do I see that any school actually does, whether confessional or not. There is a great deal of variety provided by the simple fact that there are many, many schools out there and students are not restricted to just one. And the fact is that the people who lose their jobs in these high profile cases generally find something elsewhere. I think in many cases the school doing the firing (or pressuring to resign) is impoverished because of it, but nonetheless, academic exchange goes on.

And that leads me to publishing. I have been told that I publish an extraordinary range of opinions for an individually owned publishing house. I haven’t really done any sort of survey to find out how true this is, but I do know that I have quite a variety. I sometimes wonder if certain pairs of my authors would get along well if I got them in the same room. I know some of them would differ vigorously, but would they find the dialogue constructive?

Some people assume that I do this because of a high degree of tolerance. Perhaps I am tolerant. I’m not entirely sure. But that’s not the reason for the variety.

I publish a variety of views because I find value in those views. I think they need to be considered. I believe there are few things more dangerous than coasting along with a trend either spiritually or intellectually. I heard this argument when I was in graduate school. Why are you writing that topic? Everyone now is trending away from that view. My question was whether that trend was right. Sometimes it was, for example in reigning in rampant parellomania. In other cases not so much. In some areas I’ve seen the trend roll in like a tide and then recede again, even further out than it was at the time I was urged to ride with it.

A trend can go in any direction, and the trend can be different according to the faith tradition in which you are involved, the school you attend, or your country/region of residence, amongst other factors. One of the weaknesses of academic activity, in my opinion, is that even in with the internet, people in the various streams tend not to talk to one another seriously. Certain ideas are simply dismissed without full consideration. I might be willing to assume that the ideas had received full consideration, and thus had been rejected on a broad basis, but when I look back at the writings of those who should have been providing that serious consideration, I really don’t see it.

In the hard sciences I see the boundaries much more clearly. There are specific ways that one needs to challenge those boundaries. Find new data. Do experiments. Do field work. Do the hard detailed analysis that is required to challenge a consensus. But in social sciences or historical study, I often see simply a drift of consensus as I read.

I experienced this in graduate school in the following contrast:

Form criticism is a new, wonderful tool and ought to be used all over the place. My question: Why?

vs.

Form criticism is a tool of the devil designed to destroy our faith in the inspiration of scripture. My question: Why?

I’ve come to view form criticism as a tool which is occasionally useful when used in the appropriate context on materials that have, in fact, been orally transmitted, and in a cautious way with results stated with care. I found it difficult to find the details necessary to come to that position and examine it when I did. The ratio of assertion to explanation and critique is somewhat unbalanced, in my opinion.

Pastoral concern can cover a multitude of sins. It doesn’t have to. It shouldn’t. It does. Protecting people from ideas is usually not a good strategy.

In quite a few study materials used in the United Methodist Church, for example, I see scholarly consensus views thrown out with no other explanation or support than the fact that lots of scholars believe those things. What’s the problem? You may be wondering what should be taught if not consensus views when obviously a full survey of everybody’s position is excluded for lack of time. Frequently when I talk to members and ask why they believe a certain thing they’ll respond, “Isn’t that what scholars believe?” (Which scholars? Why?)

How about spending a little bit of time explaining how scholars come to those conclusions? Perhaps you could discuss why it is that others disagree. I’ve noticed my pastor recently even in sermons noting alternative positions. The other day he mentioned that most scholars believe Mark was the first gospel. Then he also said that position is being challenged and that he thought it was possible that the consensus won’t hold. That lets the congregation know that there is lively discussion going on. If it was a class with a bit more time, perhaps one could talk about how these things are argued by historians and biblical scholars.

So not only do I find value in these various views, even (or especially) those I disagree with, but I find value in the discussion that results from making people aware of them. Let the dialogue grow!!