Ground zero

Christian Century, April 18, 2001 by Frederick Niedner

Forming students through the Bible

FEW BYTES OF HUMOR have logged more miles on the Internet than certain bloopers and gaffes collected by Richard Lederer (in Anguished English and More Anguished English), and those excerpts having to do with religion seem to circulate most widely. Consequently, most e-mail users have seen such Sunday school gems as "Noah's wife was called Joan of Ark," "The seventh commandment is thou shalt not admit adultery" or "When Mary heard that she was the mother of Jesus, she sang the Magna Carta."

Teachers of biblical studies can match these examples of mangled scripture with our own private stashes of things discovered in exams and papers. College students have amazed and amused me over the years with descriptions of events such as Moses and the Israelites barely escaping the Pharisees--who had pursued them through the wilderness. In one paper, a student explained that "when Moses went to the Sermon on the Mount where he died, the dream was worked out that loving everyone included our enemies." And the Book of Ruth, I've learned, tells the story of a "good woman who married Boas and eventually found out she was David's grandmother." One can't help but wonder if the Bible makes any sense whatsoever to a student who could write, "Jesus' last words in Mark were, `My dear Lord, why have thou portrayed me?'"

The most disconcerting feature of these misunderstandings is that they appear after classroom study, not in the initial discussion. Moreover, it sometimes seems that attempts to teach the stories and provide their historical context confuses rather than clarifies. At the end of a unit on portions of scripture that involve the people of Israel's time of exile, a student once wrote, "The temple was the home of God's `name' and `glory,' although the exile allowed God to move around and be transcendent."

As a matter of principle, I never share the students' bloopers with them. I have occasionally thought to amuse them, however, by reading from Lederer's compendium of anguished theology But when I do, I am struck by how few of the items get any reaction. As with exchange students from another culture, catching the humor in jokes takes longer than finding the restrooms or deciphering a menu.

Nearly all of the students in a typical undergraduate class at a church-related college consider themselves Christians, and most come from families more or less active in a church. Nevertheless, the world of the Bible is a mostly foreign land.

Mixed in with these "resident aliens" are some who startle us with what they know. I recently asked a group of freshmen what the word "theology" means. A student astonished me by responding, "Faith seeking understanding." He had attended a Catholic high school, found mentors within the order that operated the institution, and read extensively in the writings of Thomas Merton. His familiarity with the discourse of theology approximated that of a first-year seminarian, not a garden-variety 18-year-old.

Some young people--an increasingly small minority--arrive at college with extensive knowledge of the Bible. They know its contents and even have a general grasp of biblical history. While these students seem more receptive to biblical study in an academic setting, they represent a curious mix. Some are steeped in a piety that employs the Bible as a vast, flat strip mine from which one picks and applies texts without giving any attention to problems of interpretation. Other students come with firmly fixed ideas and opinions that they feel bound to honor.

I've seen something like primal chaos descend during discussions of the creation accounts in Genesis: students have insisted that the earth initially had above or around it a physical firmament or dome that shielded animal life and vegetation until mature species and systems could thrive without protection. This assertion, apparently taught in the religion classes of some parochial high schools, comes from attempts to view all of Genesis "literally." Once a student told me that her pastor had included among confirmation vows the pledge that she and her classmates would never in their lives, under any circumstance, entertain a theory of evolution.

If we take familiarity with basic elements of Christian tradition as a reflection of how effectively "formation" happens in our homes and congregations, we must admit to remarkably mixed results. This is not to say, however, that the current student generation lacks common components of formation.

For several years I have asked students in introductory theology classes to make a list of the half dozen most important and foundational things they believe about themselves, the universe and their place in it--convictions that clearly affect the choices they make and the ways they choose to live. As one might expect from students at a church-related university, most cite things like "I know my parents love me" or "God loves me" or "I am a child of God." A goodly number list principles such as the Golden Rule or "Love your neighbor as yourself."