Theory, methodology and method in the scholarly study of homiletics

Tags

, , , , , ,

When I was an M.Div. student, a homiletic theory usually referred to some mode of preaching within the guild’s (mostly white) story of homiletical development – inductive preaching, narrative preaching, propositional preaching, expository preaching, etc. Methodology was a word naively interchanged with method and referred to “how to preach” – as in “My homiletic method(ology) begins with an introductory story, followed by a problem, followed by a solution.”

Somewhere in the midst of this way of talking and thinking, I began to realize that my interests lay elsewhere – in another set of questions and issues. These issues were more epistemological in nature – i.e. they had to do with how we actually know what preaching, in all of its aspects, is and does – as distinct from other kinds of utterance.

In the transition into studying these issues, a paradigm shift occurred for me in the meaning of these words. Here’s a new set of meanings for these words, as I see it at this stage of the game:

  • one’s homiletic theory refers to one’s overall proposal for establishing preaching, or some aspect of preaching, as a legitimate scholarly subject among other subjects – as in “theorizing preaching,” or “theorizing ethical preaching. Or, “I theorize ethical preaching as a testimonial practice grounded in God’s desire for the flourishing of the vulnerable human other.”
  • one’s homiletic methodology refers to one’s way of establishing a method as a legitimate method – as in “my methodology argues that instead of ontologies grounded in propositions, narrativity (scriptural or anthropological), or common human experiences of the sacred, an ontology of the face or visage (cf. Levinas) contains a deconstructive ethical “supplement” that can keep homiletics from self-reflexive ethical closure as a discipline and practice.”
  • one’s homiletic method refers to the way one takes an established method and uses it to study an established (or theorized) subject, and highlights what is learned along the way – as in “Levinas’ deconstruction of ontology by ethics exposes ethical preaching’s need to (continually) exit its authorities as potentially violent to others.”

Is counterculturalism killing us?

Tags

, , , , , , , , , ,

In the current generation, the most predominant and popular image for the minister might be labeled “minister as counterculturalist.” William Willimon is perhaps the strongest proponent of this view, taking many of his ideas from the work of theological ethicist Stanley Hauerwas. (cf. Hauerwas and Willimon, 1989, Willimon, 2000). Charles Colson (2003), Walter Brueggemann, (1978, 1997, 2010), Rodney Clapp (1996), and John Howard Yoder (1994) are other prominent spokespersons with different theological perspectives who have articulated a similar view of the minister.

For those who adopt this image, the minister is a countercultural leader. Ministers are “aliens and exiles” (I Pet. 2;11) who march to the beat of a different drummer. They understand the current-situation as post-Enlightenment, post-Christendom, and post-denominational. In this situation, the church is freed from its overly comfortable co-optation by the dominant culture, and can now recover and express its true countercultural genius. The minister will not look or act like anyone else (managers, therapists, etc.) because the minister is ordained to be an utterly unique person whose actions and words will always seem odd according to prevailing cultural standards and mores. The gospel demands radically distinct forms of behavior and speech, including pacifism, non-violent resistance to principalities and powers, an insistence on the oddness of biblical language, the rejection of any attempt to translate biblical language and categories into cultural terms, and an inculturationist or catechetical approach to liturgics, preaching, and evangelism.

The idea of the minister as counterculturalist is built on a particular kind of narrative theological method sometimes called the “Yale school” of narrative theology. (Comstock, 1986). Ministers attracted to this theological method believe that all religions, denominations, and cultural worldviews are defined by the way that they narrate the world. In today’s context, larger “meta-narratives” such as the metanarratives of Enlightenment, Socialism, Capitalism, and Christianity, have been reduced in size and importance and now take their place alongside other cultural and social narratives. These narratives are like games, or “language-games,” generating very different worldviews.

In this situation, ministers are radical pluralists. They believe that the rules and concepts for one game cannot be translated into the rules and concepts of another. The world is a pluralistic arena of competing language games or worldviews, some religious and some not. In this situation, the Christian minister is obliged to represent the Christian language game as forcefully and conspicuously as possible. The odd grammar of the Christian language game, provided by scripture and tradition, must be made larger, more consistent, and more univocal.

But is this, in fact, the best way to read the situation in the world (and church) today? Instead of a situation of competing narratives, in which we must learn to compete better than anyone else and win, it appears to me that our situation, both inside the church and in the surrounding culture is one of divisive, and increasingly violent cultural-narrative entrenchment. The church’s current social and political context and its inner life has become a potentially dangerous and divisive climate of competing and mutually exclusive narratives and monologues. Entrenchment within different and competing cultural narratives is destroying the fabric of life both inside and outside the church, creating a situation in which “countering” others has been turned into a force for division across religions and cultures that has tremendous destructive potential.

In today’s popular media, countering opposing narratives has become the prevailing model for political rhetoric. Increasingly media outlets are adopting strict, consistent ideological/narrative frameworks. It is now evident that “counter-speaking” is what sells. People tend to seek out like-minded, self-referential news sources that are defined by their stances against certain others. In a nutshell, counterculture has been commodified and largely co-opted by the prevailing culture. Paradoxically, counterculturalist ministry mirrors this prevailing cultural norm, in which competing monologues vie for control and power as commodities within the marketplace of ideas. And it trains communicants in this kind of behavior.

For ministers to adopt the image of minister as counterculturalist is to adopt the predominant cultural image for courage and “authenticity” within popular culture itself.

I do not wish to wade into arguments regarding whether, in fact, it is possible to be un-tainted by other cultural currents – whether, in fact a counter-cultural posture is even possible. Kathryn Tanner has demonstrated adequately the difficulties inherent in all culturally separatist thinking. (Tanner, 1997) Neither do I wish to argue against the importance of standing up to unjust or potentially violent cultural or religious ideas of impulses. A critical posture to dangerous or violent worldviews is a crucial component of any minister’s identity.

I only wish to argue that in our present context it takes more courage, and requires more genuine Christian authenticity to adopt what may, at first glance, seem to be a less exciting image for the minister: something like “the minister as informed conversation partner.” What is needed most in this generation are not narrativists, but pragmatists. In a situation of competing cultural narratives or worldviews, what is needed are not those who are focused on further cultural-narrative entrenchment, but those who are able to relate and connect worldviews, and negotiate shared meaning and truth across differences on behalf of the common flourishing of all..

Another way of putting this is to say that we need dynamic pluralists, not radical pluralists. The dynamic pluralist, like the radical pluralist, agrees that each worldview or religion has a narrative quality including rules, practices, and symbols often shaped by a long history. Where the dynamic pluralist disagrees with the radical pluralist is on the possibility of communication and correlation across worldviews. For the dynamic pluralist, there is much to be learned from strangers who are living according to the rules, practices, and symbols of other language games. In fact, the dynamic pluralist sees all of us as constantly conversing between, correlating, and re-framing multiple worldviews. This is not to completely de-center the Christian worldview. Rather, it is to insist on the permeability of the boundaries of that worldview, and to seek to honor the way in which Christianity is, in fact, always “othering” itself – seeking its deeper identity through creative relationships with those who are different.

(THIS POST IS EXCERPTED FROM VARIOUS PARTS OF A BOOK CHAPTER THAT IS PART OF A BOOK PROPOSAL – IDEAS FOR IMPROVEMENT WELCOMED)

Bass Playing and Teaching

Tags

, , , , , ,

Here’s something I read this morning about research correlating bass guitar players and golfers. Theologian Tom Beaudoin, another bass guitarist, posted it on one of my favorite blogs, Rock and Theology.

It turns out that bassists are among the “dullest” musicians, personality-wise – at least from the outside. I’m a bassist from way back, and I’m thankful that I also play electric guitar, and keyboard – instruments that, by analogy, must pull other personality characteristics out of me on a regular basis. But the bassist in me is, to be honest, kind of foundational, (pun intended), and explains a lot.

I’m not a golfer, but the article infers that bass playing and golfing are roughly parallel, in terms of crowd-pleasing behavior. Here’s the most telling quote: ‘The golfers just did a few practice swings and lots of pretend looking into the distance after their imaginary ball and the bass players just swayed ever so slightly, did a lot of out-of-tune humming, and asked for a pie. God it was dull.’

This explains much of what I see when I review video tapes of my teaching. (I think the preaching tapes are more influenced by my rock guitarist alter ego) With this in mind, I appeal to my students, past and present, to be forgiving, and to recognize that, when teaching, I may appear a slight bit dull, but I’m really living the rock and roll dream. Just re-imagine me with my (heavy) bass guitar slung over my shoulder, on stage at the Royal Albert Hall, and this should energize the entire experience.

Homiletical Self-congratulationism

Tags

, , , , ,

I read this great newspaper article in the Nashville Tennessean this morning  by Peter Cooper.  Peter is miffed at country music song-writers for what might be called self-congratulationism. Now, that’s a mouthful, but translated it means that their songs create a perjorative, stereotypical, and often sentimental self-image for “country folk.” Instead of writing genuine country songs that wrestle with the tough road to redemption among those who struggle from paycheck to paycheck, and from harvest to harvest, they write songs that are patently self-congratulatory about “being country.”

I couldn’t help but think about all of the self-congratulatory sermons I’ve heard over the years, sermons celebrating “our church” or “our story,” the “let’s give our selves a big bear hug” sermons that paint an overly idealized picture of “us” – our inclusivity, our love for one another or the world, our choir, our children’s program, our fellowship, and on and on. Not that positive thinking about our church is necessarily a bad thing. I’m speaking about sermons that have no particular story line apart from the good old “back pat,” and provide no real feel for the tough road to redemption for many in and beyond the congregation.

To tell the truth, what often goes missing is honest particularity, which will include some picture of sin or the human condition in our midst. Just take a listen to Hank, “rapping” about country life in A Picture from Life’s Other Side.  I know this song is a bit over the top. But where has the real country in much of our country music today gone?  And where are the pictures from life’s other side, right there in our churches, that might find their way into our sermons?

Jumping right in

My daughter, Leslie Rodriguez, is a Ph.D. student in sociology. We were taking a walk the other day, and she was going on and on about how much she appreciates the blogs that many of the academics in her field create. She is a review editor for a journal in sociology and reads through these blogs regularly as she looks for faculty to review articles. Several things stood out about her comments that made me think that blogging might be a worthwhile and genuinely helpful practice.

First, blogging can help to humanize and contextualize scholars. By seeing bits and pieces of the scholar’s life, pictures, videos, and so on, they become regular folk who are not wholly defined by their work. I will post this kind of blog entry in the category entitled “Who is this?”

Second, blogging can help others understand the relationship between a scholar and their work. When reading scholars’ blogs, my daughter seemed to learn a lot by connecting the life-passions and interests of scholars to their work. It connected the dots between the scholar as a person and the scholar’s work. These sorts of posts can  be found in the category called “Connecting the Dots.

Third, reading blogs can help to bring the scholar’s work “down to street level.” Whereas published essays and books are important for developing careful arguments based on careful research, a blog can be a place to see how these ideas work themselves out as part of a “mind set” or habitus. Whereas publications require absolute consistency, blogging opens the door for real-time inconsistency, pragmatic conversation with other perspectives, and making a host of connections that were not made in the published material. I am putting these posts in the category called “Views From the Street.”

Finally, a blog allows a scholar to push beyond their published work and to think out loud in real time about other ideas and issues in and beyond their field that may have little or nothing to do with their research and writing.These sorts of posts appear in the category called “Musings.”

With these things in mind,  I’m “jumping in” for better or worse. I hope this practice is helpful or of some interest to my current students, ex-students, and other new friends in the great new social network of provided by the Internet.”