I really have no excuse for my long silence other than that I fell in love with an insane teaching method that gobbled up most of my January and February.
For the first seven weeks of the semester here at Fordham I taught a one-credit mini-course in Catholic Social Thought and Economic Justice. It’s basically a march through the economic encyclicals (from Rerum Novarum to Centestimus Annus) flanked by selections from the Ken Himes collection of commentaries, Modern Catholic Social Teaching, and further discussion of potential application of CST principles to a variety of legal, social and economic contexts. Specific topics of discussion included the liberation theology debates, work schedules in law practice, tort law and a critique of consumer culture, and the debates about corporate social responsibility and corporate structures. The class concluded with the question of how to communicate CST principles in a pluralistic profession.
At the beginning of the semester I go around the room (it was an elective seminar with 16 students) to get a sense of how much exposure they have had to CST, or to Catholic teachings generally. The answer is for the most part: very little or none at all, beyond elementary school preparation for the sacraments. At that point I think the temptation for many of us is to find a way to “open head, pour in concepts”—to try to make up in some way for the lack of formation.
Instead, I tried an experiment. I decided to completely let go of my own agenda (other than that they focus on the church documents as primary texts), and let the conceptual flow for the discussion emerge from their own questions, as set out in their reaction papers and blurbs turned in 24 hrs prior to the class. (This is where the insanity came in – the time to absorb their work prior to our class meeting, set up the discussion so that everyone would contribute, every week, followed by weekly comments on their papers in order to help them push the envelope on their conceptual development).
The result? It was magic. Perfect attendance. A class dynamic that congealed almost immediately, and sparked a sustained energetic conversation throughout the seven weeks. A sense of equality in diversity – they had very different perspectives on the material, but seemed to genuinely enjoy learning from each other. Profound intellectual engagement with the documents and the various applications, and in many cases a capacity to appreciate the profound personal and spiritual challenges of CST. For the Catholics in the class, I noticed that for many, even in just seven weeks, they came to claim their tradition in a pretty profound and genuine way. As one student put it in her paper for the last class, “On my first day of work last summer, I took off my cross and put on a string of pearls, because I was afraid of what the cross might communicate. I now think that was a mistake.”
I will be chewing on this experience in preparation for the upcoming Religiously Affiliated Law Schools Boston College Conference panel on “Teaching Through the Lens of Faith: Successfully Engaging Religious Issues in the Classroom” and look forward to further conversation with many of you about pedagogy and method while we are there. Amy
On a jaunt that is somewhat related to our broader project of tapping into resources for the "faith-life" connect, I spent the weekend in Chicago at the Catholic Common Ground’s Twelfth Cardinal Bernardin Conference, which focused this year on “Understanding the Ecclesial Movements and their Interaction with the Local Church in the US Today.” It generated an incredibly rich conversation about how to foster a better connect between local church communities and the resources that the ecclesial movements and new communities offer for formation, evangelization and building lively faith communities. BC Theologian Robert Imbelli, also present at the conference, has noted some of the key insights, “Mysticism and Method,” over at dotCommonweal. Amy
Sherif Girgis asks:
As an immigrant from Kenya, your father found new hope in America’s noble principles and vast opportunities. The same promise brought my parents here from Egypt when I was still too young to thank them. Now you have inspired my generation with your vision of a country united around the same ideals of liberty and justice, “filled with hope and possibility for all Americans.”
But do you mean it? . . .
You have asked me to vote for you. In turn, may I ask you three simple questions? They are straightforward questions of fact about abortion. They are at the heart of the debate. In fairness, I believe that you owe the people you would lead a good-faith answer to each:
1. The heart whose beating is stilled in every abortion — is it a human heart?
2. The tiny limbs torn by the abortionist’s scalpel — are they human limbs?
3. The blood that flows from the fetus’s veins — is it human blood?
If the stopped heart is a human heart, if the torn limbs are human limbs, if the spilled blood is human blood, can there be any denying that what is killed in an abortion is a human being? In your vision for America, the license to kill that human being is a right. You have worked to protect that “right” at every turn. But can there be a right to deny some human beings life or the equal protection of the law? . . .