This post was written by Randy Newman on May 19, 2008
If we lead people to Christ, will they inevitably grow? If we teach the Bible, will people inevitably want to tell others about it? If we ground Christian academicians in doctrine, will they inevitably integrate their faith with their scholarship? If we teach about spiritual formation, will Christians inevitably experience transformation?
From the looks of things, it would seem that the answer to each of the above questions would be a resounding, “yes.”
In churches, campus ministries, faculty fellowships, and even in some seminary classes, I sense an assumption about inevitability. It is worth challenging these assumptions and, if they are to be discarded, to formulate alternatives.
There have always been tensions within the body of Christ between evangelists and disciplers. The evangelist wants to reach out more broadly while the discipler wants to build in more deeply. The evangelist sees lost souls. The discipler sees shallow believers.
Instead of valuing each other as complimentary parts of the body, the opposing forces pit themselves against each other and argue over which task is more important or central to the mission. Part of that posturing often employs the argument of inevitability.
Evangelists see the need for grounding new believers in some basics and then training them to reach others. But after that, they assume young Christians will just grow as the inevitable result of putting themselves in challenging evangelistic outreach settings.
Disciplers (pastors, teachers, and the like) come at the situation from the opposite direction. If we just teach the scriptures and the power of the gospel, they imply, people will inevitably start reaching out to their unsaved friends. How could they not do so?
The world of academic integration parallels this debate. Some argue for “just” evangelizing professors and training them to reach their colleagues and students with evangelistic strategies that are relevant to intellectuals. Integration of faith and scholarship will inevitably follow. Others think that a full-orbed Christian worldview, delving into all of God’s world with all of God’s truth, will inevitably spill over into conversations which lead to presentations of the gospel.
Wouldn’t it be wonderful if such assumptions worked out! They haven’t so far and I doubt they ever will.
Instead, why not think through and implement strategies which pursue goals of both evangelism and discipleship, outreach and integration, reaching the lost and maturing the saved, adding numbers to the rolls of the redeemed and deepening the effects of salt to prevent decay.
This post was written by Randy Newman on May 13, 2008
Professor Laurence Thomas of Syracuse University thinks he’s found a way to respond when students send text messages from their phones in class. He walks out. As you can imagine, this has caused quite a stir on campus and in discussions about the world of higher education.
To make matters more messy, Thomas has introduced a note of ethnic tension to the discussion by pointing out that one offending student in his lecture is Latino. Thomas is African-American. Now the discussions, online and in print, have had to include attempts to answer a diversity of questions: Why did Thomas point out the text-message-sender’s ethnicity? Don’t white students also text? Should Thomas have walked out or handled the offense in some other way? Fail the student, for example. What can be done in an age of technology where, rather realistically, students could be texting, sending email, playing solitaire, buying stocks online, filling out a survey that rates the professor, or any other number of activities while listening to a professor’s lecture?
Professor Thomas says the issue is about respect. He asserts that students who text during the lecture are not showing respect for the lecturer. But, as several students have asked, “Isn’t professor Thomas showing a lack of respect to the other, non-texting students (who have paid some significant dollars to be there) by walking out?”
I interact with many professors and many students and hear frustrations from both sides of the desks. Professors are (quite understandably) frustrated that students pay less attention in class than they used to. Their laptops and cell phones compete with lectures. Students, on the other hand, say they can pay attention just fine while taking care of important issues via cyberspace.
From my vantage point, I see both sides’ valid points. If I were a professor lecturing to a bunch of disengaged students, I’d be tempted to walk out as well. (Although my fear would be that no one would notice). On the other hand, I’ve sat in several lectures and longed for anything – a cell phone, a laptop, a long novel, or even a deck of cards – to occupy my mind because the speaker was a terrible bore. I’ve even taken a class (a doctoral level one!) where the class of only 5 students required a level of interaction and discussion that would make texting or emailing downright horrible. In that very class, one time, the professor (!) was checking email. I was tempted to ask for some of my tuition back.
Is there some Christian insight to this mess? Here are a few thoughts:
- Respect is a big issue because all people are created in the image of God and are worthy of respect – regardless of level of intellect or dexterity with technology. Walking out of the classroom does strike me as rather arrogant, something a Christian would want to shun. Respect is a two way street and professors need to honor their commitments to the students who have paid tuition to attend class.
- Excellence in teaching could help here and many professors do a lousy job in that area. I’m sorry to be so blunt but a Christian who seeks to do his or her work “as unto the Lord” should seek to be the best possible communicator and educator possible.
- There does seem to be variances between a large lecture class of 400 and a small discussion seminar of 20. It does not seem unreasonable for a professor to restrict the use of laptops and cell phones in a small discussion setting. It seems virtually impossible to demand that in a room that holds more than 50. Setting out rules and expectations at the beginning of the class could help but only to a limited extend.
- There is a larger issue that I’ll need to leave to learning theorists to address. All this multitasking does take its toll on people’s ability to reason at a higher level. Many issues are more complex than many people’s ability to reason. The long-term societal problems this can cause are not insignificant. (I’ll save that for another blog). But, truth be told, many lectures do not demand that level of thought.
- These situations could and should lead to deeper discussions beyond mere policy procedures. Such conversations could lead to spiritual topics. How technology affects people is an important touch-point to the theological category of personhood and image bearing. Let’s make the most of every opportunity to point people beyond that little screen on their cell phone.
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