The Life of the Mind

Mark Noll describes the life of the mind as:

“…the effort to think like a Christian—to think within a specifically Christian framework—across the whole spectrum of modern learning, including economics and political science, literary criticism and imaginative writing, historical inquiry and philosophical studies, linguistics and the history of science, social theory and the arts…to think like a Christian the nature and workings of the physical world, the character of human social structures like government and the economy, the meaning of the past, the nature of artistic creation, and the circumstances attending our perception of the world outside ourselves” (The Scandal of the Evangelical Mind, p. 7).

In other words, the life of the mind works to understand a subject and measuring its validity.

Attending a Christian college that strives to integrate faith into learning does not automatically apply Noll’s concept.  John Brown University, for example, does a wonderful job in encouraging us to explore all aspects of God’s creation, to passionately pursue knowledge and truth, and to gain a solid understanding of this world.  Yet, the JBU faculty cannot make us think like Christians.  It can only teach and encourage.  We must be willing to let God transform our minds into truth-seekers founded on His Word.  It does not take as much effort to learn a subject well as it does to engage in the subject and weigh it against scriptural truth.  To engage in something, one must ask questions and strive for understanding about why that something works the way it does or is the way it is.  So much depends on our attitude, though.  We have to be willing to grow intellectually and must learn from Jesus’ parable about the three servants by investing our minds in knowledge instead of burying them in the ground of willful ignorance.

Well, now I would like to know, how did North America fall into an apathetic, intelligence-lacking evangelical mind?  And, how can I tell if I or another person lacks evangelical intelligence?  How does one discern something like this?

Intrinsic Goodness

Clifford Williams presents his definition of intrinsic goodness in “Is Thinking Good for Its Own Sake?”  Here is the definition in my words: Intrinsic goodness has neither a need of a lawyer to prove its goodness nor a manufacturer to construct its goodness.  In other words, intrinsic goodness just is.  It does not need to be explained or to be made good.  It simply is.  And I confess.  Even after reading that intrinsic goodness can do without justification, I still want to know why it is good and what makes it good.  I wish I had the answers.  All I know is that sometimes, things just are.  Intrinsic goodness is one of those things.

Is there any intrinsic goodness left in this fallen world?  Yes, as a matter of fact.  I can name at least twenty intrinsically good things:

1.         God Himself is intrinsically good (and I must say that I am slightly surprised that Williams did not place Him in his list.)

2.         Playing musical instruments like the piano, guitar, violin…

3.         Sunshine

4.         Colors

5.         Dancing

6.         Laughter

7.         Singing

8.         Splashing creeks

9.         Swinging

10.      Snow

11.      Prayer

12.      Home-cooked meals

13.      Family

14.      Reading

15.      Climbing trees

16.      Traveling across the world

17.      Building new relationships

18.      Changing seasons

19.      Growing in faith

20.      Holidays

21.      Mountains

22.      Zip-lining

23.      Baking

24.      Gardens

I remember an assignment in my biology class that involved going outside and spending an hour outside.  For the first ten minutes we had to be perfectly still.  I was not very excited about this project because I did not want to give up a whole hour in my already packed day.  However, during those first ten minutes, I found it so peaceful and good to just be still.  There was not exactly a benefit from being still because instead of resting for an hour, I had to be alert and take note of what was happening within the nature around me.  Basically, I just stopped and drank in nature for that hour.  It was intrinsically good because the assignment really did not have a point—there was no way to justify it or make it good.  Honestly, the long and short of it is that it was good to sit quietly in nature for an hour, but I cannot explain why it was good.  It just was.

Questions:

On page 32, Williams quotes John Henry Newman’s The Idea of a University: “Knowledge is a state or condition of mind, and since cultivation of mind is surely worth seeking for its own sake, we are thus brought once more to the conclusion…that there is knowledge, which is desirable, though nothing comes from it.”  I completely agree that knowledge is desirable, but I want to know, why is it intrinsically good even if it is not useful?

Can we humans produce an item or an action that is intrinsically good?  Why?  How?  Since we have fallen into sin, and though we can be redeemed through Christ we still battle with sin every day of our lives, how can we do anything intrinsically good?

What's the Point?

Paulo Freire, author of Pedagogy of the Oppressed (my reading assignment for Honors Orientation this week), suggests that most education systems within a classroom setting are more like “banks” than actual education.  In other words, Freire argues that children in school are not truly learning; they are simply being filled with information as banks are filled with money.  Children are taught facts and information, but they are not learning to use this knowledge to grow their understanding of the world.  They simply repeat and recite and memorize to pass tests, write essays, and pass with a decent grade.

I will not reveal names of people nor the real classes in which I have felt banked, but I will say that I have felt “banked” in class before.  In one particular setting, I copied down as many notes as I could, read what I was supposed to, wrote what I was told to write, and listened to my instructor’s lectures.  I placed all this information into my brain and just left it there until it was needed.  In a similar way, I deposit money into my bank account and just leave it there until I need it.  Once the money is used, it is gone.  The chances of getting it back are less than slim.  In this class, once I withdrew the information needed for a test or a paper, what have I done to retain that knowledge after I needed it?  Sadly, I usually do not go out of my way to truly understand and grasp most information that comes my way.  I am a student who likes to see the “A”, and I do what it takes to see as many as possible.  But, I am not going to be graded in a job.  Nor will I be graded on my faith in Christ.  So, what’s the point, really?

I want to be growth-minded.  I am far too much of a perfectionist in everything.  God has been teaching me to let go of everything and leave it in His hands.  I have been fighting Him all the way.  I am tired of fighting, yet still I hang on.  Why?  Because I fear.  Lots of things.  I think this is really funny because I love adventures.  Looking back though, I realize that I prefer adventures in which I maintain some control.  Some adventure.

But, let’s return to education and a growth-mindset.  I understand that growing requires failing.  I hate that feeling.  But, I don’t want my mind to be a bank of information that I only keep until it’s needed.  I want my mind to be like the library in Beauty and the Beast, a place I can visit over and over again for both necessity and fun.  (Sounds silly, I know, but I happen to like libraries. J

        

Now I have questions…

Freire states on page 73 that “the teacher chooses the program content, and the students (who were not consulted) adapt to it”.  Should the student be consulted and why?  Why do we let the teachers choose what we should study?  When we choose a major in college, is it better for us to follow the four-year degree-plans for our majors as encouraged by our advisors or should we pick and choose whatever we think is best for the degree we want?

Grades, Learning, Success...What's Really Important Here?

As I am reading John Tagg's article "Why Learn? What We May Really Be Teaching Students", I feel like my Honor's Orientation class is returning to a subject brought up in the beginning of the semester.  Back then, we were questioning the definition and measures of success and wondering what really matters in college: grades or learning.  I believe learning is more important, but I think college professors typically use grades to measure how much the students have thus far learned.  From what I have seen, the Honors Program at JBU places more value on learning than grades--for which I am grateful--but what about the non-honors courses I am required to take?  And scholarships like the Arkansas Challenge?  I have to keep a certain GPA score to maintain those scholarships.  How do I keep my focus on learning when I need to make the grades that keep the scholarship that made it possible for me to learn at JBU?  What is the balance between qualitative learning and quantitative learning as Tagg mentions in his article?

ExCo vs. JBU

   This evening I explored the website of Experimental College (ExCo) of Haverford, PA.  This college is unlike any I have ever heard of before.  ExCo is student-taught and student-run and neither offers the students nor pays the teachers.  Their goals are “to connect people who share diverse interests in learning outside the classroom” and “to enrich [their] education by allowing [them] to share [their] knowledge, interests, and skills with each other in a cooperative and relaxed environment”.  At the bottom of their “Teacher Guidelines” page, ExCo encourages the teachers to experiment as much as they want: “ExCo is not just about learning unusual subjects,” they state, “it’s about a different kind of learning, too.”

   Unlike John Brown University (and many other colleges and universities in the U.S.), ExCo gives the students no credit or transcript.  The course catalog consisted of four courses: “Beginner Ceramics”, “Roman Baroque Art”, “The History of Punk Rock and the Role of Punk Rock in Contemporary Western Society”, and “SEPTA and the Real World: Getting Out, Knowing How, and Using the Resources We Have to Take a Break from Haverford”.  This program seems to be a place where one can “learn unusual subjects in a different way”.  Experimental College is just that—an experiment.  I do not understand how attending this place would prepare one for the real world, although I do appreciate their goal to bring different people with diverse interests and backgrounds together in order to learn from each other.  They seem to place more of an emphasis on learning and gaining knowledge than on career training and preparation.  Here at John Brown, the goal is to provide “an academic, spiritual, and professional foundation for world-impacting careers”.  JBU does focus greatly on learning through a Christian worldview (the Gateway Seminar, a required course for all new students, is specifically designed  to teach how to integrate faith into learning) yet also prepares its students for careers and graduate programs, something that ExCo does not seem to do.

   For this reason, as well as others, I do not think that JBU should adopt ExCo’s educational approach.  I do not believe one has to go to college for the mere purpose of learning from others and studying “unusual subjects” (is there any other way to describe that course catalog??)  I am attending college both to gain a strong foundation in the liberal arts and to prepare to serve God in the field(s) to which He has called me.  My other reason for rejecting ExCo’s approach are found within the “Teacher Guidelines”.  One of the questions is, “Somehow I managed to get into one of the top colleges in the country, but it was all a fluke.  I really don’t know enough about anything to teach a class.”  ExCo’s response is, “You don’t have to know everything to teach an ExCo class.  ExCo is about learning together, not necessarily leading or following.”  I personally view my teachers as mentors in their particular subject.  I want a teacher who can answer my questions or help me get started on seeking answers.  Moreover, I want a teacher who can and will tell the truth and point me toward the truth.  That is why I came to JBU—to learn the truth and be guided into the truth.

"What Say You?"

I am finished reading Donald Miller's A Million Miles in a Thousand Years.  On page 188, Miller says, "There is no conflict man can endure that will not produce a blessing."  I am not so sure.  What about Adolf Hitler or Osama bin Laden or Herod from Matthew 2?  What blessings came from the conflicts in their lives?  I was relieved as anyone else to learn of their deaths, but they are in Hell now.  How is that a blessing for them?  (Perhaps I am being extreme on this, but other examples would be either too close or unknown to me.)

Chapter 29 is titled "The Reason God Hasn't Fixed You Yet".  The difference between stories and reality, Miller explains, is that stories have climaxes, relief of tension, and a "happily-ever-after".  Real lives do not have those moments.  Miller says that "the reason we like stories so much is because they deliver wish fulfillment" (page 200).  As much as I love stories with their climaxes and happy endings, I have to wonder...should we allow ourselves to escape to a reality that we will never know?  Christians, if Jesus Christ is our ultimate fulfillment, why do we feel the need to escape to the non-reality of stories, especially if these stories leave us dissatisfied with our own lives?  Or are some stories meant to inspire us to pursue a better life in Christ?

Lost in the Crowd

   Due to an unusual health-related experience I had last Thursday evening, I had to travel with my parents to an overnight speaking engagement they had agreed to do.  (They wanted to keep me and my health under their watchful parental eyes. :)  While there, I was able to sit with the crowd and hear my parents speak about relationships and marriage.  While it was pretty cool to see and hear my parents work together like that, I felt so out of place.  I was the only single person in that room.  Everyone else was married, engaged, or seriously dating.  Most of them were college students as I am, but I felt like a high schooler.  I felt shy and afraid of being seen as a tag-along.  I have no idea why I felt uncomfortable.  Everyone I talked to was so nice and welcoming.  Yet, I still felt out of place.  It could be because I still was not feeling my best, but I began to think of all the other times I have felt lost in the crowd.
   I am a very shy and reserved person (though my recent experiences in drama have helped me overcome the shyness a bit) and a people-pleaser.  I hate confrontation.  I hate being the new person in a group of people who know each other.  Nine out of ten times those people will talk with each other instead of trying to get to know me.  I feel that in my old church youth group, I had to struggle to become friends with the people I saw most often.  I was home schooled and loved it, but knew very few other people in my youth group who were.  The people I liked the most, I saw the least.  Before I moved from Texas, God enabled me to let go of the people I was trying to be friends with and pointed me toward friends who would support me and whom I could support.  I'll be honest.  I was trying to get into the "in-crowd" at church.  Not that these people were mean or snobbish–they were simply unaware of my insecurities.  And truthfully, I don't remember wondering about theirs.
   I have rarely felt completely accepted into a group of people.  I feel that I have hopscotched around from group to group for a great portion of my life.  This has made me fearful.  I am fearful of polite people who smile and ask, "How are you?" when they see me yet do not go out of their way to include me.  Whenever I was around my friends who went to public school, I felt lost and ignorant when they discussed their doings in school.  Oh, I would ask what public school was like and try to understand their lives, but I could not.  It was so different.  Sometimes, I am so confused that I give up listening.  Then, when I am ready to jump into the conversation, I remain silent because I feel that I have nothing to offer.  When interacting with people of different backgrounds, I fear looking like a fool when I ask about something that only I don't understand.  I am afraid of being the intruder, the busy-body, the tag-along that no one wants.  I, the redeemed daughter of the King of Kings, am just plain afraid of the crowd.  Although HE has more than accepted me, I cower and weep because I want to be accepted and loved by people I fear.
   Over the last few years, God has shown me both sides of the "acceptance/rejection issue".  He has made me aware that there may be people who feel just as lonely and unwelcome as I do–perhaps more.  I feel convicted whenever I ignore someone who appears lonely.  I don't think God wants me to throw away my new friends in order to be a friend to the friendless or something.  I just haven't figured out a way to balance the two.  My school schedule is so rigorous that I feel I barely have enough time to take care of myself and spend time with my new friends.  Let alone go seek out more people.  But, if I have truly given myself up to Christ, shouldn't I just let myself be led by the Holy Spirit and not worry about this?
   Looking back over all my experiences with people, I realize that God has blessed me with unexpected friends if you will.  I was not looking for these friends nor do I believe they were exactly looking for me.  I remember reaching out to one girl thinking, "She looks like she needs a friend."  It turns out that I needed her friendship.  (Our God has a sense of humor–don't try to tell me otherwise!)  These unexpected friends did not take God by surprise.  He knew I needed them, and that they needed me too. I am not the only lonely person on the planet.  I pray that God will continue to shape me into an includer, a person who is bold enough to speak out on the behalf of others yet who is sensitive to those who need. Jesus befriended the friendless.  I cannot call myself His follower if I do not let go of my fears and shyness and do the same.