Dare I share this particular thought? I know it may get me into
trouble. I have to admit that I am nervous about being so easily
misunderstood. Religion, which so often has a bad rap as being
anti-intellectual, isn't exactly greeted with open hands on our supposedly
open-minded campuses. Oh, well, as a dear friend of mine, Lynn Anderson,
said, I am a risk-taker. So, here goes.
Understand, I am not about to challenge the Establishment Clause
in our Constitution. Although I think too often it's interpretation has
been carried to the ridiculous extreme, I did lead the charge on my campus
to ban the use of sectarian prayer at official university functions. So
many of us academics, when we hear the word "religion," so immediately
have these knee-jerk thoughts of extremism and close-mindedness that we
ourselves become extreme and close minded. In a fit of objectivity so
many of us become so subjective and intolerant. Before us dance visions
of the American fundamentalist right wingers who believe God is anarmed
American capitalist, who are negative to say the least towards anyone who
doesn't believe as they do, who promote ideas that are intellectually
unsupportable, or who use religion as a cover for racism,
ultra-nationalism, capitalism, anti-government, anti-diversity,
anti-feminism, and even the right to bear arms. And, the events of and
since 9/11 haven't helped. We so easily think of religion in terms of
zealotry, hypocrisy, and even ignorance. We so easily dwell on the
"anti's" that we don't easily think of religion in terms of those who
encourage a commitment to mutual cooperation and to service of others and
of society as a whole. We so often see such charitable activities as
having the ulterior motive of proselytizing.
And yet, whatever your belief, it goes where you are. I freely
and openly admit that over the past few years it seems that my outlook on
life and my profession has been increasingly shaped by my Jewish faith.
To be sure, I am far from being what some might call either fundamental or
orthodox. To the contrary, I am not a ritualist. I am far more of a
culturalist. My faith is more one of the heart than of the ceremony.
Micah 6:8 is one of my favorite passages in Scripture. I think I am close
to being a Jewish deist with a touch of Jewish Zen. My son, Robby, once
called me a "practical spiritualist." I believe that how I live, how I
treat others, how I treat myself, is my most sincere prayer. How I relate
to those supposedly "problem students" or "difficult students" or
"disruptive students" or "they don't belong" students is a measure of my
moral code. The extent to which I am an agent of transformation
determines the extent, as someone once said, my life is an inspiration and
memories of me are a benediction.
I believe that I must struggle to follow three paths laid out by
my faith. The first is Tikkon Olam, the obligation of actively working to
better the world. The second is tzedakah, being just, virtuous, and fair.
And the third, is gimilut chasadem, performing deeds of loving kindness.
I work hard to work these tenets into my teaching. They give me unbounded
meaning. I believe good works are better than Scripture quoting or
church-going. I hold each student sacred and accord him or her profound
respect. I am more willing to act on what I know to be right. I am less
willing to act in harmful ways. I am more inclined to act the way I
should feel and for the benefit of others. With each small act of
kindness, with each moment of mindfulness and practice, with each effort
to serve others in their efforts to transform, I help build a new and
better world and thereby make a difference
I bring this up this hot-button, sensitive, emotionally charged
issue because we had just completed a "vigorous" discussion about the
"Laramie Project," the play about the 1998 hate-killing of a homosexual
student attending the University of Wyoming. I had asked the students in
all the classes to see the play and be prepared to discuss their reactions
during our "Tidbit" discussion day. Needless to say, the discussion of
hate crimes eventually swung around to the morality or immorality of
homosexuality, on to religious beliefs, and the extensive role religion
has played and still plays in the American experience. At the end of one
class, a student who had sat silent during the discussion came up to me.
"Are you religious, Dr. Schmier?"
"In my own way, yes," I answered.
"Do think religion has a place in education?.
"Yes," I answered.
"I didn't believe you thought we ought to have prayer in school
and teach Creationism," the student concluded.
"I don't." He was more than a bit surprised.
"But, you said that you believed that religion has a place in
education. I don't understand."
"Does religion have a place in your life?" I asked.
"Yes."
"What does that mean?"
"I read my Bible everyday. I pray everyday. I go to church on
Sundays. I accept Christ as my Saviour. I let God into my life every
day."
"That's not enough. Do you live your religion? Do you follow the
Golden Rule and put it into action every day? When I said, 'yes,' that I
believe religion has a place in the classroom, I meant you have to meet
the ethical and moral expectations of your religion. Religion is really
about offering a guide of how you are supposed to live, not merely about
the beliefs you hold or the ceremonies you perform."
"I don't understand."
"You say that you let God into your life and yet last week you
didn't"
"How did I do that?"
"You lied and cheated."
"No, I didn't. I'm not dishonest."
"You're not? In your journal last week you dated each entry as if
you followed the rules of making an entry each day, didn't you?"
"Well, yes."
"But, you actually did them all at once on the day the journal was
due. Right?"
"Yes, but...."
"No, 'buts!' Did you feel bad about it?"
"Not really."
"Did you think it was a 'no big deal?'"
"Well, it wasn't like it was a test or an exam. I mean I had lots
of work to do and I didn't have the time. I wasn't the only one who did
that. And, I didn't really think you really read the journals anyway."
"You didn't really think it meant much or that you'd get caught."
"Something like that."
"But, you said you did something which you didn't do. Isn't that
lying and cheating? Isn't it the same as being dishonest? Isn't that
saying you did something that you didn't do? Isn't it being hypocritical
to say you are religious and then do something that is contrary to being
religious?"
"I never thought about it like that."
"You don't keep God out of your life when its inconvenient and
challenging or you think you won't get caught."
"I guess," he replied in a quieted voice.
"You know, your religion, my religion, is like soap. It isn't
much good unless you use it. If you're sincere, the beliefs you hold, the
words you speak, the attitudes you have, the behavior you display, and the
actions you take have to mesh--every moment."
"That's not easy."
"Anyone ever say it is? It sure is a lot harder than reading the
Bible or going to church."
To me, whether the student's intent was otherwise, my answer had
nothing to do with ritual, theology, or ceremony. It had nothing to do
with the issue of prayer in school, teaching creationism, school vouchers,
Christmas or Chanukah decorations, hanging the Ten Commandments in each
room, and all those other emotionally charged issues. Those trappings
have little to do with being religious. Having character does.
Education broadly should be one of the ways people are socialized
into the culture and prepared to play a constructive role within it.
Preparing students to perform useful roles in society is not
controversial. Our educational system, however, is not culturally neutral
and objective. After all, in our schools at the k-12 level and in higher
education, especially in the publically funded schools, we teach "the
American way." Required teaching of American history is not cultural
neutral; required teaching about the American constitution is not
culturally neutral. No, neutrality is an impossible goal for schools.
Schooling cannot be abstracted from the communication of values. The
question is only which set of values will be transmitted in what form.
That is controversial.
Slowly, I am coming to the realization that I am increasingly
becoming a spiritual and character seeker. About that I offer no
apologies. And, that has nothing to do with those ridiculous positional
labels of left, center, right, left of center, right of center, a tad to
the left of right of center, a bit to the right of left of center, etc.
The tangible world of social and physical sciences is important to me.
The rational world of problem perceiving and critical thinking is also
important to me. The non-rational world of emotion and attitude is is
important to me as well. And, so is the world of human relationships.
These latter two world evoke questions of first principles, how and for
what purpose knowledge will be used, the validity of morality and virtue,
and, most important, the meaning and purpose of the educator's existence.
To me, the issue of religion and education should nag at us and
students to wonder, to speculate, to ask the difficult questions, to
ponder the often unanswerable questions. To me, education should be a
nutritional source for character, the spirit, as well as for the
intellect. It should help teach a student how to live as well as prepare
a student for earning a living. It should be more hospitable to the human
spirit. I am coming to feel that the education of young people must
involve not only their intellectual, emotional, and social development but
also their spiritual growth. Without a religious sensibility on our
campuses, issues of morality, meaning, and the pursuit of a sustainable
truth to live by tend to get marginalized, leaving most of us and the
students desperate for an enduring meaning.
Those issues pop up in the course of relationships college
students develop from shared experiences, mutual interests, and a common
environment. As college students seek to establish their independence,
make new friends, and master complicated new surroundings, they are drawn
together and create a new social culture. It is a shared perspectives on
the relative importance of academic performance, extracurricular
activities, social life, and work. It exerts a powerful force on what a
student learns, because it influences the kinds of people with whom a
student spends time and the values and attitudes to which the student is
exposed. And, it exerts a powerful influence on the kind of person a
student will be in years to come. I am concerned with fostering
approaches that encourage a commitment to those matters of the heart and
spirit, as well as the mind, which help students develop a particular
voice as they struggle with the thorny issues of ethics, morality, and
virtue. Student culture can be understood as the assumptions, norms,
behaviors, values, beliefs, attitudes, rituals, and activities that
inform, shape, and animate how students interact with and make meaning of
their collegiate world.
Now, before some of you jump all over me, I'm not saying
you have to be religious to be ethical, moral, and virtuous. I am saying
if religion is important to that student and to you, so are moral,
ethical, and virtuous thoughts, feelings, words, and actions. To me,
religion in education is a force, though not the only force--I repeat,
though not the only force--to lay a claim for our classes as soulful
places of learning where spiritual and character dimensions are welcomed.
Now once again, I am not talking about the teaching of any particular
religious doctrine. I am not talking about hanging the Ten Commandments
in each classroom. I am not talking about opening each class with a
prayer. I am not talking about creating a William Bennet style
"virtue-ocracy" to enforce perfect standards of behavior. What I am
talking about has to do with authenticity, honesty, integrity, justice,
compassion, sensitivity, mindfulness, kindness, sacredness, respect. It
has to do with the extent personal ethics and morality and virtue play in
our own lives at home, at play, at work, off campus and on campus. If
religion is important to that student so must ethics and morality be
important in everything he does at all times. He has no option. He has a
mandate. He has an obligation. And, so do we. To profess a religion
without any concern for following its moral teachings, is like buying a
car and never putting gas in the tank. It just doesn't go any where or do
anything. It becomes little more than useless, high-priced, good-looking
junk.
That student was right. Ethics and morals and virtues are not for
wimps. They aren't easy. It's easy to read a book; it's easy to quote
Scripture; it's easy to go to a church or a synagogue or a mosque. It's
easy to be an arrogant and self-righteous holier-than-thou. It's easy to
proclaim, "I love God!" It is not easy to live the godly life. It's not
easy to have principles over grades. It's not easy to stand up for your
beliefs and still respect the different viewpoints of others. It's not
easy to be honest when it might be costly. It is not easy to maintain
your integrity and be a target of tomatoes. It's not easy to be
consistently kind. It is not easy to resist giving into the surrounding
peer pressure. It's not easy being a moral, ethical, and virtuous person.
It is especially not easy to do any of this when so many around you
aren't. And, that is why it is so important!
Make it a good day.
--Louis--
Louis Schmier www.therandomthoughts.com
Department of History www.halcyon.com/arborhts/louis.html
Valdosta State University
Valdosta, Georgia 31698 /~\ /\ /\
(229-333-5947) /^\ / \ / /~ \ /~\__/\
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