More from Alan
Hirsch’s book ‘The
Forgotten Ways’: between pages 120 and 125 he says that we have transformational
learning all wrong in the church. We have opted for the idea that you think
your way into acting, instead of acting your way into thinking. We are
influenced by Greek approaches, whereas ‘acting your way into thinking’ is the
Hebraic model that Jesus used in leading the disciples. He is therefore
critical of the way we train leaders in a seminary approach that mimics the
secular academy.
There is some strong merit in what he says. And it isn’t
merely about academic training. It’s also about popular spirituality. Take this
extract from a popular Christian paperback. It illustrates the problem well.
It’s an uncomfortable thought that has nagged me for years,
but it persists: ‘Why is it that some folks, who apparently spend lots of time
in prayer, are so downright nasty?’ I’ve bumped into Christians who allegedly enjoy
a splendid prayer life, but they don’t seem remotely to resemble the Jesus with
whom they spend so much time. Surely, if their praying were effective as well
as lengthy, they would manifest some love, some kindness and grace to others,
and even a little humour here and there? Why, if they really do spend so much
time in the company of the ultimate Architect of grace, are they so graceless,
so negative, and so addicted to spiritualised snooping and finding fault? Ironically,
for some their spirituality has been a toxic force that has affected them for
the negative; they are the worse for their praying.
(Jeff Lucas, How Not To Pray,
p110f)
Clearly there are many for whom the theoretical approach
doesn’t work. But ‘acting into thinking’ doesn’t work for everybody, either. I’m
one of them. I once had to work with a colleague who was a pain in every part
of the body to me. We didn’t have theological differences – in fact, we were
quite close in our convictions. We fell out over other issues. I tried blessing
in the hope that my feelings would change. I brought him a bottle of wine home from
a holiday on the Algarve, and so on. But my heart never changed. In the end we
had to stop working together.
Equally, I do know the value of learning in practice. When I
was exploring God’s call on my life, I listed various ways in which I believed
God had spoken to me. I was very close to offering for the ordained ministry
when I went on a college placement in Bradford.
One of my objections to the ministry was that I was a quiet, introverted type. I
found myself working with a vicar (who is still there twenty years later – see the
Bradford hyperlink) with a similar personality. Yet he had a fruitful ministry.
It was the last domino to fall.
However, I wonder whether the question of learning is more subtle
than whether we act our way into thinking or think our way into acting. At my
first college I was introduced to Peter Honey’s Learning Styles
Questionnaire. We had to take the test in order to be aware both of our own
preferred learning styles and that members of our congregations might be
different. I came out as very strongly a theorist, next I was a reflector, I had
a small amount of activist and I scored nil for pragmatist. Now while the
reflector and activist aspects of my personality might fit with ‘acting my way
into thinking’, the high theorist score doesn’t. The question of learning
styles is a complicated one, and it cashes out differently for the great range
of human personalities. A valid question against the Peter Honey approach might
be, ‘Learning what?’, but enough of his analysis chimes with me to make me
think that this is a complex issue.
That leaves Hirsch’s criticism of the seminary approach. He notes
that the Forge Mission Training Network,
where he serves, only appoints staff who are practitioners. They also teach by
throwing students into practical situations where they are out of their depth,
and looking for what can be learned as a result. Having had experience of two
theological colleges, I can see his point. My first college was superb, but my
second was dire. One difference was theological (the first was thoughtful
evangelical, which I like to think suited me), the second was liberal with a
constitutional disdain for evangelicals, even those like me who undertook
postgrad research.
But there was a major difference in teaching style, too. At the
first, the academic and the practical were integrated. The staff all had to be
rooted in local church experience, even while they were tutors. And if any did
go off into some ivory tower flight of academic fancy, we students would soon
bring them down to earth and ask exactly what this high-falutin stuff had to do
with ministry. Not only that, we felt like Christian community. When a
Singaporean student lost her mother back home, we raised the funds for her to
fly home. When Shell were up to naughty things in Nigeria, some students
picketed local garages. And that is just the two examples that immediately
spring to mind.
At the second college it was different. I paid a visit
before starting there, and the Principal, knowing my theological college
background, bemoaned the students who failed to engage in theological
reflection. He had just marked an essay where the student hadn’t connected his
academic studies with ministry. Terrible, I thought. But I understood why when I
got there. For the academic and the practical were separated: academic studies
happened at the university theological faculty, where the tutors were under no
obligation to make connections with ministry, and the practical, ministerial
studies were back at the college. The college did teach a course on theological
reflection, but not until the third year. Any salvation came in summer
placements.
Conclusion? Difficult: I’ve been out of theological colleges
for fifteen years. Much has probably changed. I thought it had, and I hope so. But if Hirsch is right, not
enough has changed. Is he right? Perhaps those who have been studying in recent years can enlighten me.
Technorati Tags: AlanHirsch, JeffLucas, HolyTrinityIdle, PeterHoney, ForgeMissionTrainingNetwork, learningstyles, TrinityCollegeBristol, HartleyVictoriaCollege, LutherKingHouse
Hi Dave
Jeff Lucas here. I picked up yours from a blog alert, and find your comments here really helpful and thought provoking. No answers from me, but you’ve got me pondering. Thanks. And blessings on you in all that you’re doing.
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Hi Jeff,
Thanks for stopping by and your kind words. I’ve found your writing a breath of fresh air in recent years. On more than one occasion I’ve used your Christianity column as opening devotions for a Church Council meeting. The one where the violinist played on with three strings spoke very powerfully to one of my churches. ‘And also with you’ on the blessings front!
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