Liberal Education for Pentecostals

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Articles Orienting Our Lives: The Importance of a Liberal Education for Pentecostals in the Twenty First Century1 Michael Palmer Not long ago, C-SPAN2’s Book T.V. channel broadcast a discussion of a new translation of Homer’s Odyssey. Four scholars, including the transla- tor, talked with each other and responded to callers. One caller, who identi- fied herself as a “tongues-talking” Christian from Mississippi, groused that too much time and money is wasted perpetuating the Greek and Latin clas- sics, whereas more pressing issues are evident all around us. The scholars responded briefly, but their remarks were fragmentary, hinted of condescen- sion, and generally failed to discern the caller’s underlying concern about what is worthy of human endeavor. It would be convenient for all of us if the caller happened to be a hypocrite, a person incapable of comprehending an answer, or simply a kook. For in that event we could easily justify dismiss- ing her out of hand. But she was none of these things and, in truth, she speaks for many Pentecostals. Her concern may be framed as a question: Why do texts and subjects that have no readily discernible application to the church or to issues of contemporary life continue to receive attention among intellectuals and in institutions of higher education? More generally, the question is whether the processes and assumptions that underlie the study of these texts and subjects-processes and assumptions traditionally subsumed under the label ‘liberal education’-have any prospect of playing a decisive role in the lives of Pentecostals as they cross the threshold into the twenty- first century. I intend to answer this question affirmatively. Salient Features of Liberal Education Precisely demarcating the essential features of a liberal (or liberating) education is not an inconsiderable task, partly because of the various intel- lectual endeavors, forms of training, and programs of preparation with . 1 An earlier version of this essay was presented on March 9, 2001, as a plenary address at the 30th annual meeting of the Society for Pentecostal Theology in Tulsa, Oklahoma. 197 1 which it is often confused, and partly because the theme itself is elusive. Thus, to be educated liberally is not identical to engaging in scholarship. The former has more to do with a process someone might undergo; the latter identifies a certain kind of intellectual activity engaged in by learned people. Liberal education also bears no essential connection with the array of pro- fessional and vocational programs-education, marketing, journalism, and computer science, to name only a few-that have proliferated in colleges and universities during recent decades. Professional and vocational pro- grams exemplify what John Henry Newman called the usefiil (or instrumen- tal) arts, regimens of study designed to impart specific skills and forms of knowledge applicable to certain roles or career paths.2 Liberal education, by contrast, has less to do with preparation for specific roles or careers than with developing certain capacities, not the least of which are those necessary for self-understanding and for assuming responsibility within the larger community.3 Newman himself described it this way: “This process of train- ing, by which the intellect, instead of being formed or sacrificed to some particular or accidental purpose, some specific trade or profession, or study or science, is disciplined for its own sake, for the perception of its own prop- er object, and for its own highest culture, is called Liberal Education.”4 It is a well-known fact that what we today call liberal arts educational institutions originated in Europe during the High Middle Ages, and that what we call the liberal arts referred then to two groups of academic disci- plines, one of three arts, another of four arts. The threefold group (which medieval writers called the trivium) were communication arts: grammar, rhetoric, and logic. The fourfold division (the quadrivium) consisted of “mathematical” or, as we would describe them, nonliterary arts: geometry, 2 John Henry Newman, The Idea of a U>7iversity (Notre Dame, IN.: University of Notre Dame Press, 1982), Discourse VII, “Knowledge Viewed in Relation to Professional Skill,” I 14-135. 3 For an illuminating treatment of this line of reasoning, see Henry G. Bugbee, Jr., “Education and the Style of our Lives,” Profiles 6:4, University of Montana (May 1974), 4-5. Arthur Holmes makes a similar point: “Liberal learning therefore takes the long-range view and con- centrates on what shapes a person’s understanding and values rather than on what he can use in one or two of the roles he might later play.” The Idea of a Christian College, rev. ed. (Grand Rapids, MI.: William changing B. Eerdmans, 1975), 29. 4 Newman, Idea of a University,115. To those who insist that liberal education must have some instrumental value, Newman offered this reply: “If then a practical end must be assigned to a University course, I say it is that of training good members of society. Its art is the art of social life, and its end is fitness for the world. It neither confines its view to particular professions on the one hand, nor creates heroes or inspires genius on the other” ( 134). 198 2 arithmetic, music, and astronomy.5 But this specific curriculum was aug- mented almost from the outset. The empirical sciences (in their formative stages) and theology provided the subject matter for rational inquiry in the High Middle Ages. The Renaissance saw the curriculum broadened to include the study of classical languages (Greek and Latin) and classical lit- erature (drama, poetry, philosophy). By the beginning of the twentieth cen- tury the curriculum ranged across a broad spectrum of disciplines from the humanities to the natural and social sciences. Today, a century later, it is more cross disciplinary and cross cultural than ever before. The historical trend to expand and revise the liberal arts does not prove that the curriculum is altogether arbitrary. (Certain texts and materials do in fact lend themselves more readily, fully, and enduringly to the educative process.) But it does show that the curriculum itself, the specific subject matter, if you will, does not essentially define liberal education. As a first approximation to providing a positive account of liberal edu- cation, I take my cue from Newman’s description cited earlier: He spoke of a process of training, by which the intellect is disciplined for its own sake and for the perception of its own proper object. What are the essential fea- tures of an educative process that thus disciplines the intellect? To begin with, liberal education involves awakening to the living sig- nificance of the seemingly dead past.6 The general semanticist Alfred 5 Although the seven liberal arts (composed of the trivium and guadrivium) formed the core of university education in the High Middle Ages, the specific groupings originated much earli- er with Martianus Capella, a fourth-century contemporary of and a fellow North African. Martianus introduced the seven arts (and the distinctive threefold-fourfold Augustine in a treatise with the curious groupings) title, The Marriage of Philology and Mercury. By the time he ulated his stip- specific curriculum, Christians were already studying grammar, rhetoric, and classi- cal literature, following the Roman and curriculum. The practice was controversial: Tertullian objected strenuously to the system adoption of classical culture. But others, including Jerome, Ambrose, and Augustine, saw value in classical culture and classical education. Augustine, who was highly critical of some of the classical tradition, Christians to adopt the Roman system of education and the use of aspects classical literature for urged pragmatic rea- sons : to maintain a literate church. To that end he advocated the preparation of compendia of the liberal arts, which took the form of summaries of those aspects of classical philosophy and literature deemed to be consistent with Christian doctrine. For a fuller treatment of these and related issues, see Norman F. Cantor, The Civilization of the Middle Ages (New York: Harper Collins, 1993), 66, 67, 80-84. Also see Arthur F. Holmes, Building The Christian Academy (Grand Rapids, MI: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 2001 ). 6 What I here call awakening to the past has certain affinities with Gabriel Marcel’s use of the term “recollection.” See “On the trans. Ontological Mystery,” in The Philosophy of Existentialism, Manya Harari (New York: Citadel Press, 1956; reprint, Carol Publishing Group, 1995), 9-46, esp. 23-25. Also, see Marcel’s treatment of the French word reconnaissance and its cog- nate reconnaitre in “Philosophy As I See It,” in The Owl of Minerva: 199 3 deliberate judgment. To say, therefore, that liberal education entails tutelage in choice means that liberal education has to do fundamentally with devel- oping in individuals the capacity for deliberate judgment.9 But the exercise of deliberate judgment can hardly be realized apart from enlivening the imagination. Practical people-people disposed to action directed toward immediate or tangible results-sometimes criticize liberal learning on the grounds that it yields no definite answers. In a certain narrow sense the criticism is accurate. The caller who asked the scholars on C-SPAN2’s Book T.V, “Why, in the face of so many pressing issues, we should continue to study classical literature?” made a valid assumption. Studying Homer’s Odyssey is unlikely to have a direct bearing on even a sin- gle important contemporary social issue. In that sense-and here is the crit- icism-it is useless. The same can be said for the study of any particular piece of literature, drama, philosophy, poetry, or history. But the assumption on which the criticism rests quite misses the larger point. Studying these works does not aim to provide specific solutions to practical problems. On the contrary, it aims to enliven the imagination, and this means that the chief value of studying them lies with their capacity to provoke thought and pres- ent familiar things in unfamiliar ways.10 Bertrand Russell made this point when he said that the value of philosophy lies less in its ability to provide definite answers than in the uncertainty it engenders: The man who has no tincture of philosophy goes through life in the prejudices derived from common sense, from the habitual beliefs imprisoned of his age or nation, and from convictions which have grown up in his mind without the cooperation or consent of his deliberate reason… unable to tell us with certainty what is the true answer to the doubts which it raises, is able to suggest many possibilities which Philosophy though enlarge our thoughts and free them from the tyranny of custom.l I Russell’s point about philosophy holds equally for literature, poetry, history, and any of the other subjects of inquiry ordinarily associated with the liber- al arts. They all enliven the imagination and thereby militate against various 9 See my “Elements of a Christian Worldview,” in Elements of a Christian Worldview, ed. and comp. Michael D. Palmer (Springfield, MS: Logion Press, 1998), 19-78, esp. 24-27. 10 Edward De Bono uses the expression “lateral thinking” to describe the in unfamiliar “Lateral he “seeks process of looking at familiar things ways. thinking,” says, to get away from the pat- terns that are leading one in a definite direction and to move sideways by reforming the pat- terns.” New Think (New York: Avon, 1971 ), 15. 11 Bertrand Russell, The Problems of Philosophy (New York: Oxford University Press, 1969), 156, 157. 201 4 Korzybski once described humankind as “a time-binding class of life His description evokes an intriguing image of what it means to live humanly. We do not so much build upon the past as gather it together and pull it forward to our own time; we do not so much stand on the shoulders of our predeces- sors as assimilate their contributions and treat them as if they were our own. Korzybski does not say so, but surely much of this time-binding activity, perhaps most of it, is unintentional. It goes on day in and day out, but the individual for the most part does not notice (much less comprehend) what is being thus gathered and bound together to make a self. Liberal education explicitly turns attention to the time-binding process and explores the tem- poral strands from our cultural and intellectual heritage that we have unwit- tingly gathered together to form ourselves. Through the study of the past- whether in the works of philosophers, church fathers, poets, playwrights, or novelists-liberal education helps us remember who we are. Liberal education is also tutelage in choice. This becomes evident if we consider the way people commonly acquire the core beliefs and practices that comprise their worldview. Children, for instance, receive their world- view uncritically as an inheritance. Their core beliefs, priorities, and ideals show up in their speech, actions, and social arrangements, but they lack appreciation of either their origins or implications. Possessing them in this sense (uncritically, as an inheritance) is not yet to have chosen them and is thus not yet to own them fully. Mature ownership requires the exercise of choice. But choosing, in the respect intended here, does not mean merely that one selects one set of beliefs, priorities, and ideals from among several available options, as if picking a box of breakfast cereal from the shelf at the supermarket. It refers rather to a circumspect style of life characterized by alertness, careful and thorough consideration of alternatives, appreciation of logical commitments, and awareness of consequences. Such a style of life cannot guarantee uniformly good results, but it does minimize the likelihood that one will fall prey to the whims of other people or succumb to the con- tingencies of natural forces. As one author has pointed out, “We may not be the captains of our fate and the masters of our soul with total ability to con- trol the environment around us, but we are the captains of our fate and mas- ters of our soul in our ability to be deliberative about the life we lead…”8 Quite simply, choosing, in the sense intended here, involves the exercise of Philosophers on Philosophy, ed. Charles J. Bontempo and S. Jack Odell (New York: McGraw Hill Paperbacks, 1975), 119-122. ‘ 7 Alfred Korzybski, Science and Sanity (Lakeville, CN: International Non-Aristotelian Library, 1933), “Preliminaries,” 1:7-18; “Introduction,” 3:38-52. 8 Vincent E. Rush, The Responsible Christian (Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1984), 94. 200 5 forms of dogmatism, prejudice masquerading as common sense, and cultur- al bias. Enlivening the imagination has much to do with learning to appreciate questions, by which I mean learning to attend to them carefully, not for a brief time but patiently and searchingly over the long haul. In this connec- tion, I am reminded of Rainer Maria Rilke’s response to a young aspiring poet who once sought his advice on several issues, especially ones about his poetic ability and his own unmade future: You are so young, so before all beginning, and I want to beg you, as much as I can, dear sir, to be patient toward all that is unsolved in heart and to your try to love the questions themselves like locked rooms and like books that are written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without 2 noticing it, live along some dis- tant day into the answers.l2 Rilke’s recommendation to live the questions represents an invitation to adopt an essentially reflective posture toward life.l3 We reflect when we attentively attend to the ways and extent to which we are implicated in what we study or experience, when we consider what something means to us, or when we weigh the moral claim that something or someone has on us.l4 Much (perhaps most) of our thought is analytical and calculative. Analysis and calculation make ordinary life possible because they aim at solving problems. Their goal is to provide specific answers to specific questions. The products of analysis and calculation are things like structural drawings, digital devices, business plans, deductive logic proofs, and solutions to chess problems. By contrast, reflective thinking is more like waiting, taking time to let questions deepen by affording them patient consideration. Reflection is less an abandonment of answers than preparation of the self to receive answers in due time. It is also preparation to understand that some of the answers central to our well-being can never be grasped definitively, but must 12 Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet, rev. ed., trans. M. D. Herter Norton (New York: W. W. Norton & Company, 1934, 1962), 34, 35. 13 For a particularly engaging example of reflective thinking, see Henry G. Inward A in Journal Form Bugbee, Jr., The Morning, Philosophical Exploration (State College, PA: Bald Eagle Press, 1958; reprint, Harper and Row, 1976; reprint with an introduction by Edward F. of Mooney, University Georgia Press, 1999). 14 The expression “retlective thought” comes close to Martin Heidegger’s use of the expres- sion “meditative thinking.” See Discourse on Thinking, trans. John M. Anderson and E. Hans Freund (New York: Harper & Row, 1966), 46. 202 6 always and necessarily remain partial and tentative. Reflection, even when it yields no conclusive answers, liberates us from naive optimism and petty fear as well as from the misconceptions that everything must go our way and that no one else’s interests are as important as our own. A Theological Argument . To this point I have described what I believe to be the essential features of liberal education, education characterized not so much by its specific cur- riculum as by the types of thinking and responding it attempts to foster. These features include developing an historical sensibility, learning to choose (deliberately and circumspectly), learning to think imaginatively and with appreciation for questions, and adopting a reflective posture. This list, though not exclusive, does identify some of the most important features of an education that can liberate us from the provinciality of immediate expe- rience, enhance our resourcefulness, and deepen our capacity to assume responsibility for meaning. For some, the foregoing discussion provides ample evidence in itself, without further elaboration, of the value of liberal education. Understanding its processes and aims constitutes sufficient grounds to establish its validity and importance. Whenever I am tempted by this line of reasoning, I think of people like the Book T.V. caller, and countless others whom I have known over the years in various Pentecostal congregations, for whom the value of liberal education is far from evident. Their skepticism typically draws on several sources, including broad cultural trends, such as the pragmatism and can-do-ism so common among Americans; long-standing and deep-seated anti-intellectualism; and simplistic and narrow views about the activity of the Holy Spirit and the role of the Bible in the life of believers. In the remainder of this paper I address these concerns with two kinds of argu- ments : one theological, the other practical. I begin with the theological argu- ment. Among Pentecostals, developing appreciation for liberal education is difficult for the reasons just now cited but also because it does not seem to integrate obviously with the theological principles that have historically driven Pentecostalism. Like most other branches of Christianity, Pentecostalism has claimed to take the entire canon seriously. But also like most other branches of Christianity, it has emphasized some passages more than others. Functionally it has developed a canon within the canon. For instance, Acts 2 figures prominently within the Pentecostal canon, as do cer- tain prophetic and eschatological texts. As a movement devoted to the work of missions, Pentecostalism has also made Matthew 28:18-20, the so-called 203 7 great commission, a central text in its canon. 15 In fact, this text has played such a prominent motivational and theological role in Pentecostalism (and has been interpreted in such a narrow way) as to create the misleading impression that humankind’s most fundamental call is to engage in evange- lization. The practical upshot of this misconception is both good and bad. Pentecostalism has become a leading force in missions work, and Pentecostal churches worldwide have grown spectacularly during the twen- tieth century; but education has generally suffered, being reduced to the role of vocational training for missions or parish work. Pentecostals have rightly reminded the Christian world that authentic worship has an affective com- ponent ; but they have largely banished the intellect from their conception and practice of worship. The emphasis on missions and evangelism has brought dignity and prestige to ecclesiastical callings; but it has demeaned all other callings by relegating them to second-class status. Without in any way denigrating the work of evangelism, we must insist that our most basic call lies elsewhere. It is best understood by reference to the Genesis creation account: that we were created in God’s own image (Genesis 1:26, 27). The Scriptures seem to imply two primary purposes for being created in God’s image. The first concerns communion with God. That we have been formed in God’s image (something not claimed for any of the other creatures) suggests a certain affinity and mutuality between God and humankind: We are not God’s equal, but we were created to be God’s vis-a- vis. The Westminster Catechism acknowledges this purpose when it pro- claims that “Man’s chief end is to glorify God and to enjoy him forever.” Everything else is subordinate to this purpose. The work of missions and evangelism, though urgent, is related to this ultimate purpose only indirect- ly, due to humankind’s estrangement from God. When explicit proclamation of the gospel is successful, it places men and women in a position to realize their ultimate calling: communion with their Creator. In the history of Pentecostalism, the so-called “great commission” in Matthew 28-“Go therefore and make disciples of all nations”-has been read narrowly as a commandment to undertake the work of evangelism. But it need not be read narrowly. Making disciples can perfectly well be under- stood as a mandate to tutor people toward a full understanding of their pri- mary calling before God and to assist them in freely responding to that call. If so understood, then whatever else this tutelage entails, surely it must include restoring, developing, and disciplining the full range of God-given 15 Matthew 25:31-46, the judgment of the nations, has been notably absent from the Pentecostal canon, though there is some recent evidence that this is beginning to change. 204 8 potentialities associated with the life of the mind-such as those elaborated earlier. The second purpose of creation concerns secular things: It calls for human beings to undertake a range of endeavors summarized in the expres- sion “dominion” (Genesis 1; Psalms 8; Hebrews 2). Broadly speaking, these endeavors are cultural activities (leading some to speak of a cultural man- date to manage our own and nature’s resources creatively and wisely).lt’ They include everything from attending to nature (as in naming creatures and having dominion over them 17) to making artifacts.1 g But here it is important to exercise care in describing both the purpose and the activities that exemplify it. In the divine scheme of things, culture- making is not fundamentally different from communing with God. In other words, we quite miss the point if we suggest that in the first instance God calls us to communion and then later directs us to leave the divine, holy pres- ence and dirty our hands by engaging in culture-making. Rather, culture- making articulates specific ways of preparing for, entering into, and express- ing communion. By taking the cultural mandate seriously we give concrete expression to our relationship with the Creator in whose image we are made.19 9 From this vantage point, the connection with liberal education is not dif- ficult to see. Even in its most humble elements-learning to read, to write, to listen, to perceive sensitively and noticingly, to entertain possibilities, and to draw inferences-liberal education is preparation for answering responsi- bly to tht cultural mandate in all of our creaturely activities. More general- 16 See Holmes, The Idea of a Christian College, 19. In addition to a mandate to create culture, Miroslav Volf sees in Scripture a mandate to with God in transforming culture. “Work,” in Elements of a Christian Worldview, ed. cooperate Palmer, 219-239, especially 228, 229. 17 For a fuller discussion of the way in which naming is a culture-making activity that evidence of how human beings are made in the image of God, see Twila Brown gives Edwards, “The Place of Literature in a Christian Worldview,” in Elements of a Christian Worldview, ed. Palmer, 339-375, “Creation,” 341-348. Additional notable sources include: Michael Edwards, Towards a Christian Poetics (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1984); J.R.R. Tolkiett, “On Fairy Tales,” in The Tolkien Reader (New York: Ballantine Press, 1966); and Madeleine L’Engle, Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith and Art (Wheaton, IL: Harold Shaw, 1980). 18 The writer of Exodus singles out two artisans, Bezalel and Oholiab, for special comment. Of Bezalel we are told, “See, I [the Lord] have called with divine with and by name Bezalel … and I have filled him spirit, ability, intelligence, in kind of craft, to devise artistic designs, to work in and knowledge every gold, silver, bronze, in cutting stones for setting, and in carving wood, in every kind of craft” (Exodus 31:1-5). 19 As Arthur Holmes has said, “While all nature declares the glory of God, we human beings uniquely image the Creator in our created creativity.” The Idea of a Christian College. 21. 205 9 ly, within the framework of a Christian worldview, liberal education must be understood as developing our capacity to image God in the fullness of our humanity, which is our highest call. Practical Considerations If the preceding theological argument is cogent, it applies to all Christians, without regard to denominational affiliation or historical place- ment. In the final section of this paper, I turn to some practical considera- tions with the aim of demonstrating how liberal education can assist Pentecostals in facets of life that matter, or ought to matter, deeply to them. But before launching into the substance of the arguments, I wish to clarify precisely the nature of my thesis. I am not saying that, after a century (more or less) of missionary endeavor, church planting, and instruction in doctrine, Pentecostals are now sufficiently mature spiritually to cope with the tempta- tions posed by the arts, sciences, and humanities. Nor am I saying that, after decades of freeing themselves from the lowest socioeconomic stratum, Pentecostals have now earned the right to indulge themselves in some edu- cational luxuries. Liberal education is neither a temptation that only mature Christians can be trusted with, nor a fringe benefit for upwardly mobile peo- ple who have “arrived.” In my view, Pentecostals currently find themselves at an historical turning point that is at once hopeful and precarious-hope- ful, because demographics and wider acceptance by the dominant culture have placed them in a strategic position both to challenge and to shape the surrounding culture: precarious, because for too long they have traded on the experiential aspects of faith and sold short the life of the mind. The precariousness of Pentecostals shows itself in two general ways. First, although they have long criticized negative trends in the surrounding culture, their lack of a robust intellectual tradition has left them vulnerable to being coopted by the very trends they claim to disdain. For instance, Pentecostals (like evangelicals) have created and embraced “Christian” pop music that is little different from American pop music, with secular musi- cians leading the way and calling the tune. Second, Pentecostals’ tradition of anti-intellectualism has left them with only scant resources for dealing with new cultural and intellectual issues. They have yet to learn that to combat the opponent one must thoroughly understand him. So my thesis about the importance of liberal education has nothing to do with Pentecostals availing themselves of “interesting” or “nice” educational electives from time to time-as if to say, reading Homer’s Odyssey is OK after all, so long as it does not distract from the really important tasks at hand. In the last analysis, whether Pentecostals come to value liberal education is a matter of immense practical consequence and considerable urgency, because how they finally 206 10 come to live their lives will depend in large measure on the stewardship they exercise over the processes that shape their minds. I see two significant areas in which liberal education can have a salu- tary effect on Pentecostals: (1) appropriating the past in an active and searching manner; (2) deepening and informing moral consciousness. In the remainder of this essay, I speak to each of these briefly. Appropriating the Past To say that Pentecostals lack historical perspective is only partly true. Several Pentecostal denominations and some universities have developed archives. Furthermore, never before in the history of Pentecostalism have there been more or better Pentecostal historians, not to mention several out- standing scholars of Pentecostal history who do not themselves claim to be Pentecostal. In addition, the vast majority of Pentecostal institutions of high- er education offer courses on the history of the modem Pentecostal move- ment. With few exceptions however, these sources of Pentecostal history are having little discernible impact on the thousands of Pentecostal churches around the world. Yet it is primarily at this level, the local church, that his- torical perspective is at one and the same time most evidently languishing and yet most urgently needed. Sometimes with good intention, and some- times seemingly with no intention at all, Pentecostal churches have adopted “contemporary” forms of congregational worship. Hymns, which maintain minimal connection to the past, are commonly set aside in favor of contem- porary worship songs. In the attempt to keep pace with the popular youth culture, some churches have relegated adults, particularly the oldest ones, to the sidelines. Even where this has not occurred, congregations are often seg- regated according to age and interest, with the effect that children and teens have little or no contact with the older members, who are the bearers of tra- dition and who provide a critical link to the past. Also, many Pentecostal churches, following the seeker model, have banished all Christian symbol- ism from their places of worship.20 Since Pentecostal churches generally lean strongly toward the non- liturgical side of Christian tradition anyway, and thus have few community rituals to connect them to the past, the loss of any residual symbolism does not bode well for nurturing appreciation for the past. Finally, Pentecostals, like their contemporaries in the rest of the cul- 20 Pentecostal churches have also followed the lead of other churches in down-playing, or even their ties to denominations. In the words of Robert Wuthnow, “Growing numbers of churches might be characterized as open systems, attempting to embrace everyone, while abandoning, to impose little on anyone.” Christianity in the Twenty-first Century: Reflections on the Challenges Ahead (New York: Oxford University Press, 1993), 49. attempting 207 11 ture, struggle with transition. For various reasons, families relocate with increasing frequency and so lose whatever connection they may have had with their former place of worship and commonly have no opportunity or reason to delve deeply into the traditions and defining practices of their new church. Of course, none of these phenomena, taken singly, leads inevitably to loss of meaningful connection to the past. But in sum they paint a picture of churches that, at best, ignore their history. But why is this a problem, and what might liberal education do to ameliorate the situation? Quite simply, the answer to the first question is that churches are communities. If they are to be genuine, sustaining communities in the midst of an otherwise individ- ualistic nation, they must have a robust conception of the past. To borrow an expression from Robert Bellah and his colleagues, churches must be com- munities of memory, communities that do not forget the past because they actively engage in telling and retelling their central story.21 This story, or collective history (what Bellah calls a “constitutive narrative”), is not a detached recitation of dates and events but a living tradition that offers examples of men and women who have embodied and exemplified the meaning of the community. In Bellah’s view, communities of memory are essential to the formation of an individual’s identity, precisely because they provide individuals a collective history, a tradition. Alasdair Maclntyre puts the matter this way: A living tradition … is an historically extended, socially embodied argu- ment, and an argument precisely in part about the goods which constitute that tradition. Within a tradition the pursuit of goods extends sometimes through generations, through many generations. Hence the individ- ual’s search for his or her good is generally and characteristically con- ducted within a context defined by those traditions of which the individ- ual’s life is a part.22 . If a church’s collective history is weak or ignored-in short, if a church defaults on its role as a community of memory-then the people whose lives are interwoven with that church are also likely to have a weak or passive sense of their own identity as Christians. As Robert Wuthnow has observed, “While the idea of church-as-storyteller may seem to diminish its impor- 21 Robert N. Bellah, Richard Madsen, William M. Sullivan, Ann Swindler, and Steven M. Tipton, Habits of the Heart: Individualism and Commitment in American Life (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1985), 152-157. 22 Alasdair Maclntyre, After Virtue : A Study in Moral Theorv, 2d ed. (Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 1987), 222. 208 12 tance, this function must actually be seen as having the utmost significance. For the very likelihood of anyone in the future retaining the identity of ‘Christian’ depends on it.”23 If the preceding analysis is correct, reinvigorating a sense of historical placement is a matter of considerable significance for Pentecostal churches. But addressing the current situation will take more than simply pointing out the loss of tradition. For Pentecostal churches to become genuine and sus- taining communities of memory will require precisely the kinds of intellec- tual commitments identified earlier as defining features of a liberally edu- cated mind. Congregations and their leaders must look not only prospec- tively, but also retrospectively, which is to say the past must be made a mat- ter of conversation. But to be successful over the long haul, this conversa- tion cannot be entered into haphazardly or intermittently. It must be initiat- ed as a matter of genuine choice (deliberately), approached in the vein of asking what the past can mean for the present (reflectively), and undertaken in a purposeful, sustained, and concerted way. Informing Moral Consciousness In order to establish a framework for talking meaningfully about informing the moral consciousness of Pentecostals, I begin with a point of comparison.24 In the Catholic tradition, Thomas Aquinas’s treatment of nat- ural law comes quickly to mind as exemplifying what it means for a Christian tradition to embrace a principled, widely applicable, and distinc- tive approach to moral issues. Classical Pentecostals have not yet embraced a similarly compelling and clearly articulated moral theory. This fact is less indicative of outright disagreement among Pentecostals than it is of the embryonic-or perhaps missinb state of discussion over moral theory in Pentecostal circles. Holiness Pentecostals, for example, have written at length about the nature, value, and role of sanctification. But beyond saying what sanctification might mean for one’s outward appearance, for example, conservative dress codes, or personal behavior, such as refraining from con- suming alcohol, smoking, dancing, gambling, and going to movies, they have generally drawn few moral implications. On the other hand, Finished 23 Wuthnow, Christianity in the Twenty-first Century, 48. For a fuller discussion of the of the church as a community of memory, loss of topic tradition, and the importance of story telling, see especially chapter 3, “The Place for the Christian,” 42-54. 24 The remarks in this section derive from my essay “Ethics in the Classical Pentecostal Tradition,” in The New International Dictionary of Pentecostal and Charismatic Movements, Revised and Expanded Edition, ed. Stanley M. Burgess, assoc. ed. Ed van der Mass (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2001 ). 209 13 Work Pentecostals, such as the Assemblies of God, have generally down- played the importance of developing a comprehensive moral theory. As a result, it is possible to sketch only in the most tentative and provisional way the main lines of a Pentecostal moral theory. Murray Dempster, one of only a few Pentecostal scholars to attempt such a sketch, has proposed general criteria for a Pentecostal moral theory.25 In his view, an adequate Pentecostal moral theory must be theocentric. This means, in part, that a clear understanding of God (particularly God’s holi- ness and goodness) must guide one’s life. But more importantly, it means that Pentecostals must distinguish themselves from other Christians in their view that God’s Spirit resides at the center of all aspects of Pentecostal life-including its social, political, and economic practices and institutions. In addition, Dempster believes that an adequate Pentecostal moral theory ought to be distinguished by its concept of the Imago Dei, its portrayal of what it means to be a covenant people, its prophetic tradition of social criti- cism, and its concern for the poor, the weak, and the disenfranchised. Elaborating on a theme first articulated by Stanley Hauerwas, Dempster also contends that an adequate Pentecostal moral theory should provide a place for imagination. In his view, human imagination can be an effective instru- ment of God’s Spirit to stimulate redemptive and transformative action in a fractured and chaotic world. Within a network of valued relationships and activity, an ethics of . ination stimulates the moral agent in response to God’s acts to reenact the imag- human actions of liberation, justice, love and reconciliation through a profound identification with the theological convictions and ethical norms of the biblical stories associated with God’s creative power. An ethics of imagination not only aims at the reenactment of its stories, but also at the embodiment of its stories in the formation of the church as the new society.26 I shall return later to Dempster’s interest in “an ethics of imagination” in connection with the role of liberal education in the lives of Pentecostals. Howard Kenyon, another Pentecostal scholar, believes that, although it is appropriate for Pentecostal ethicists to call attention (as Dempster has done) to the experience of Spirit baptism, “what is equally needed is an 25 Murray Dempster, “Pentecostal Social Concern and the Biblical Mandate of Social Justice,” Pentecostal Theology 9:2 (Fall 1987), 129-153; and “Soundings in the Moral Significance of Glossolalia,” in Pastoral Problems in the Pentecostal- Charismatic Movement, ed. Harold D. Hunter (Cleveland, TN: Church of God School of Theology, 1983), 1-32. 26 Dempster, “Soundings in the Moral Significance of Glossolalia,” 31. 210 14 understanding of the significance that the concept ‘Age of the Spirit’ has had on the Pentecostal worldview.”27 What made the early pioneers truly Pentecostal was more than just the ability to speak a language they had not formally studied. What made them Pentecostal was that their entire orientation was governed by the bold notion that they were living in the Age of the Spirit.28 For Kenyon, this broader emphasis on the concept ‘Age of the Spirit’ means that an adequate Pentecostal moral theory must be eschatological and prophetic. To be eschatological is to be future-oriented: “The final hope of the believer lies in the blessed hope, this hope that Christ will return and that the fulfillment of all promise lies in the age to come.” To be prophetic means to proclaim God’s word boldly and to articulate its social implications for the present day, rather than simply to foretell future events. (His under- standing of the prophetic role of Pentecostals resembles Dempster’s treat- ment of the prophetic tradition of social criticism.) Finally, Kenyon believes that an adequate Pentecostal moral theory-eschatological and prophetic at its core-will embody three fundamental themes, which will provide its points of departure for action: liberation, reconciliation, and justice.29 It is important to keep in mind that the sketches of moral theory described here are idealizations. At no time during the rise of Pentecostalism have they (or any other models for Pentecostal moral theory) been formally discussed and filled out in a comprehensive way (much less adopted) by the governing body of any Pentecostal denomination or movement. In a certain respect, this result is exactly what one would expect from a religious move- ment whose pioneers were bound by a common experience rather than a common creed. But there is reason to believe that the historical reality is actually more complex and regrettable than simply saying that Pentecostals have not yet developed a full-bodied moral theory. Dempster, for instance, implies that Pentecostalism has come perilously close to what he calls “trivialization” and “evangelicalization” of the moral life. The moral life is “trivialized” when Pentecostals diminish its weightiness by focusing narrowly on incon- sequential, personal, and external behaviors. It is “evangelicalized” when they occlude or reject altogether certain distinctively Pentecostal beliefs and 27 Howard N. Kenyon, An Analysis of Ethical Issues in the History of the Assemblies of God (Ph. D. diss., Baylor University, 1988), 419. , 28 Ibid., 414. 29 Ibid., 419, 420. 211 15 practices and uncritically assimilate themselves into the evangelical main- stream.3? Although Dempster does not actually say that Pentecostals have succumbed to these reactions, the historical evidence strongly suggests that both have occurred in varying degrees in classical Pentecostal groups. Kenyon carries the critique farther than Dempster. Identifying the Assemblies of God as an example of what can go wrong with a Pentecostal movement as it proceeds through various stages of institutionalization, he argues that in three areas – the status of African Americans in church mem- bership and ministry, the role of women in ministry, and the participation of Christians in war-the Assemblies of God has “developed a set of moral principles lacking the distinctiveness of a thoroughgoing Pentecostal social ethic.” In its early formative years, according to Kenyon, the denomination’s ethical posture was shaped by four theological emphases: the imminent return of Christ, the authority of Scripture, the present Age of the Spirit, and the priority of world evangelization. He contends that, of the four, only two-the authority of Scripture and the priority of world evangelization- continue to have significant impact. In his view, the Assemblies of God has been “reactionary, portrayed in the denomination’s ambiguous attitude toward blacks; dogmatic, demonstrated in the fellowship’s mixed approach to women in ministry; and pragmatic, illustrated in the General Council’s dramatic shifts in its attitudes toward participation in Mel Robeck offers an even broader critique of the Pentecostal move- ment.32 In his view, Pentecostals have been quick to recite the proclamation Jesus made at the beginning of his ministry: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor” (Luke 4:18-19). But having invoked this passage as though they were empowered to do the same things as Jesus, Pentecostals have actually appropriated them 30 Dempster, “Soundings in the Moral Significance of Glossolalia,” 32. 31 Kenyon, An Analysis of Ethical Issues in the History of the Assemblies of God, iii. 32 Cecil M. Robeck, Jr. “Pentecostals and Social Ethics,” Pneumu: The Journal of the Society for Pentecostal Theology 9:2 (Fall 1987), 103-107. Robeck prefaces his critique with two histor- ical observations: First, revivalism and the Holiness Movement were both deeply revivalism and to involved in about social transformation. Second, Pentecostals are heirs both to the Holiness bringing Movement: “The spiritual and social commitments of these movements lie behind the birth of Pentecostalism” (103). Robeck believes that there is ample historical evidence of this heritage of commitment to social transformation. He cites a number of examples including A.J. Tomlinson and his ministry to the poor of Appalachia, Lilian Trasher and her orphanage for Egyptian children, Aimee Semple McPherson and her Temple Commissary, and William J. Seymour’s contribution to racial equality in the church. 212 16 only in a narrow and limited way. Robeck says, . While Pentecostals have ministered freely to those have often enduring spiritual poverty, they ignored the plight of the economically of deprived our society. The approach all too often has been to move away from the city, and away from the and to argue that Jesus anticipated that we would always have the poor, problem of the poor around…. Pentecostals have typically overlooked those who are captive to the abuses of the unjust structures of or ideology, and at times have turned their eyes away from the society plight of those who are oppressed by their fellow human beings, whether by economic, political, social, military or even religious means.33 ‘ Robeck believes several factors explain why Pentecostals departed from their historical heritage of social ethics. Among them: “[T]he rise of the old liberalism and the social gospel tended to taint Pentecostal, holiness, and evangelical involvement with issues of social justice. [Social activism] became identified as a ‘liberal’ tool, and therefore as something ‘off limits’ to Pentecostals.” Moreover, “the issue of peer pressure also came into play. As Pentecostals rubbed shoulders with evangelicals they also adopted the values and concerns of evangelicals who stood over against ‘liberals’ who employed the social gospel.”34 Robeck’s analysis reinforces the point that Pentecostals lack a general and principled approach to moral issues. As a result they have ended up responding to new social developments and moral challenges in an ad hoc manner, which in part explains why their history is scattered with moral lapses and compromises. Of course, embracing a general moral theory is no guarantee that similar moral lapses and compromises can be avoided in the future. But surely Pentecostals have little prospect of avoiding them in the absence of such a moral framework. We may ask, therefore, “what it will take to develop a clear and distinctive moral theory that is true to the move- ment’s most basic historical and theological commitments?” Asking this question, of course, is not the same as asking what such a theory would look like. Rather, it involves focusing on the conditions necessary for developing a satisfactory theory in the first place. And here I wish to focus the discus- sion once again on the importance of liberal education by recalling Dempster’s evocative expression “ethics of imagination.” Dempster implies that an ethics of imagination both reflects on the moral thrust of the Bible’s central narratives and seeks to instantiate the 33 Ibid., 104. 34 Ibid., 106. 213 17 moral implications of these narratives in the church. Unquestionably, reflect- ing carefully on the biblical narratives has the potential to enliven the imag- ination. But we must not underestimate the degree to which these narratives are encrusted in a tradition of interpretation (including recent Pentecostal tradition) that militates against reading them afresh and engaging them in a way that truly offers the prospect of refocusing the church’s moral energy. Moreover, twenty-first century Pentecostals are no less susceptible to dog- matism, cultural bias, and prejudices masquerading as common sense than Christians in other branches of the church or during other historical periods. These facts make it clear that constructing an ethics of imagination poses formidable challenges. What can help us address these challenges success- fully ? Not surprisingly, the answer here is similar to the earlier one about becoming communities of memory. Constructing an ethics of imagination requires precisely the kind of intellectual discipline, awareness of issues and alternative approaches, and tolerance for uncertainty that I have already associated with a liberally educated mind. Theologians, ethicists, and other intellectuals in the church must assume a leading role in the process of con- ceptualization. As Dempster rightly points out, attending attentively to the biblical narratives is indispensable. But the moral imagination can also be sparked by careful, patient reflection on the writings of philosophers, the- ologians, novelists, and playwrights outside the Pentecostal tradition as well as those of scholars in the social sciences and humanities. This type of reflection not only helps reveal models that have already been articulated, but also, and perhaps most importantly, assists us in discovering and assess- ing our own moral assumptions. Finally, although Pentecostal scholars bear a special responsibility to lead the way, the process must continue in the churches. The clergy, who control the governance structures in all Pentecostal denominations, must concede the poverty of simple proof-text approaches to moral questions. They must acknowledge the need for a com- prehensive and principled approach and must give enthusiastic endorsement to the kinds of intellectual efforts necessary to undertake such a task, know- ing full well that no algorithm exists for completing it. Moreover, they must endorse the development of educational programs in the church and in our colleges and universities that are based not on the dissemination of moral dogma but on the development of moral reasoning. Moral education, while it cannot and should not exclude preaching, must include teaching and dis- cussion. Conclusion Appropriating the past and informing moral consciousness 214 , are two 18 obvious ways liberal education offers the prospect of making a discernible contribution to Pentecostals at this point in their history. Certainly they are not the only areas of stewardship that merit attention. Consider, for instance, that in many parts of the world Pentecostals no longer occupy the margins of society but find themselves increasingly in a position to build and shape culture. What will they offer? That will depend in no small part on how crit- ically and imaginatively they are finally able to think within a Christian framework across a broad spectrum of subjects, from economics to political science and social theory, and from the humanities to the empirical sciences. Consider, too, the new digital technology, which not only presents remark- able opportunities but poses certain fundamental challenges as well. If past is prologue, Pentecostals will repeat the mistakes they made at the beginning of the television age: criticizing the content but failing altogether to under- stand the philosophical, social, and moral implications of the device itself. The new digital technologies, exemplified by the Internet-connected com- puter, have the capacity to transform community life more profoundly than television and to reshape our understanding of Scripture (hypertext is not the same as printed text). How will Pentecostals respond? Here again the answer has much to do with the stewardship they exercise over the educative processes that shape their minds. The temptation, of course, is to concede that the “tongues-talking” woman from Mississippi, who wondered whether we could any longer jus- tify devoting attention to classical literature like Homer’s Odyssey, is right. How can we afford to spend time with literature or poetry?-or with works of history, philosophy, theology, or ethics?-or, for that matter, with the principal stories and heroes in our own brief Pentecostal tradition? Faced with urgent and formidable problems, should we not address ourselves sin- gle mindedly to solving them? These questions presume the priority of prob- lems over the development of the self who is expected to meet the chal- lenges that such problems pose. They also express a way of thinking that explains why liberal education languishes among Pentecostals, at every level and in point of recognition as their most basic educational need. The fundamental question facing Pentecostals however, is not whether they will be able to acquire the material or political resources to “solve problems,” but whether they will prove to be adequately prepared to meet the responsibili- ties that will inevitably be thrust upon them in the twenty-first century. At bottom, this is a question about whether they will bring to problems an his- torical sensibility, a deliberate and judicious frame of mind, and the capaci- . 215 19 ty to think imaginatively and reflectively. In short, it is a question about the formation and discipline of the mind.35 35 I am indebted to my colleagues Robert Berg and Gary Liddle for reading and offering criti- cal commentary on this essay. 216 20