The title of this entry will remind readers of a certain age of a popular sitcom that played around the theme of an alien, a Martian, living with a middle-class American family. Mystics in our world are something like this. We are generally all for “spirituality,” but the mystic’s witness to an immediate experience with God is baffling, challenging, and somehow compelling. It is baffling, of course, because we cannot understand God himself very well, nor the person who claims to have had some kind of intimate contact with God. It is challenging because mystics seem to speak with a special authority, and it might seem to contradict other religious authorities. It is compelling because, well, if someone witnessed to an immediate sense of touch, or union with God, might we not want to know about it? God too often seems to be the silent partner in a dialog of prayer.

Often we can go to the Middle Ages for examples of Christian experience. It is in some ways a laboratory of Christian practice and thought. In fourteenth-century England, the age of the Hundred Years War, the Black Death, Geoffrey Chaucer, John Wycliffe, Piers Plowman and Sir Gawain and the Green Knight there were four individual mystics that are often on course reading lists, and are popular with readers and practitioners of spiritual disciplines. Richard Rolle is very personal and almost chatty; he has personal appeal. The Cloud of Unknowing (author also unknown) is deeply philosophically and learned. Julian of Norwich is one of the great female mystics of the age whose striking images and experience are both disturbing and profound. All of these are read with enthusiasm.

But my favorite fourteenth century mystic is Walter Hilton, the more down to earth, the teacher, the less read I think, the fourth of the group. Hilton was a priest in the north of England near York, a canon who lived a regular (monastic) life, but served in a parish and so taught and worked among the people. In The Ladder of Perfection he writes to a “sister,” presumably a nun, who has questions about spiritual and mystical experience. It is the great gift of Hilton to us to describe the spiritual practice of contemplatives, how to discern between true and counterfeit spiritual experience, the relation of this experience to theological teaching like the necessity of grace given to commune with God, and the grace given to regenerate or sanctify the soul. He is methodical, and insightful. He notes types of experiences and compares them to other types; he points to methods of self discipline, meditation, contemplation, and discernment of the causes and effects of sin and grace in us.

A couple of unique teachings anchor us. First he offers counsel on living what he calls the “mixed life” (especially in a brief tract of this title). The mixed life is that of those called to an active life in the world of family, friends, service, business or school, who yet have a desire for deeper communion with God. He counsels that we must fulfill our obligations to our world of commitments and human struggles and joys, and offers ways to practice a life of prayer, meditation, and even contemplation (you will have to read him for these distinctions).

Second he explains that mystical experience must be grounded in at least two ways. Because God is good and holy we must make ourselves ready for his touch by moral and intellectual discipline; we must incline to the good, and practice disciplines that encourage the growth in us of humility, justice and righteousness, compassion for others, moderation, and love. This moral discipline goes along with intellectual disciplines that help raise the mind to the realms of God where our intellectual categories and our ability to describe what is true and good are transcended. Here we face the risk of losing our way theologically, or at least our intellectual balance. He also counsels that our spiritual practice must not be separated from the church, regular worship and the reading of Scripture. The God we are individually to seek in the “spiritual” realms is also the God who has called us to be a part the Church. He has given us the body of Christ in which to worship, to hear the word preached, to receive the sacraments through which grace is renewed in us. In and through the offices of the church we are instructed and learn charity towards our sisters and brothers.

I suppose it is this very practical and down-to-earth quality that I am drawn to in Hilton. He gives guidance, offers balance, and reminds us that whatever gifts we are given they are in and for his body, his people, the Church. He reminds me that the goal is to know and offer the love of God to others, and that this is not an easy task or the result of some splashy experience. He tells us that God is waiting, but that he is oftentimes hidden behind the many things we put in his way. He reminds us that our normal Christian experience is the path of our seeking. And yet in this down-to-earth life, God is waiting for us in silence.

“For prayer is nothing but a desire of the heart rising into God by its withdrawal from all earthly thoughts; and so it is compared to a fire, which of its own nature leaves the lowness of the earth and always goes up into the air. Just so, when desire in prayer has been touched and set alight by the spiritual fire which is God, it keeps rising naturally to him from whence it came.”

Walter Hilton, The Scale of Perfection, J.P.H. Clark and R. Dorward, trans. Classics of Western Spirituality (NY: Paulist, 1991) I, 27.

I was honored to be invited to give the 2013 FPU commencement address. As President Menjares noted afterwards it was something of a tribute to our faculty. Below I have included only the descriptions of the three characteristics or “virtues” of our Hidden Curriculum. I have had to leave out all of the illustrative stories of students and faculty, but I only have so much room in each post. For those of you who are FPU alums you will be able to find your own examples… Congratulations once again to the Class of 2013.

***

 My topic is the hidden curriculum that you sometimes unknowingly have studied. We may have spoken about it at times, have hinted, but for the most part it is tucked into and behind the way we approach and practice education. I have spent all of my professional life here at Fresno Pacific, so what I have to say is the fruit of my work with my colleagues. They have taught me. I have listened to them, watched and discussed the characteristics of education I will outline with many of them, and many who came before them and are now retired. I am grateful for being a part of this faculty and their readiness to examine and understand that mysterious thing we call higher education.

***

 The first hidden virtue within our curriculum, I think, is “truthfulness.” This is indeed the first virtue that Paul mentioned, although I have expanded it from just the “true” to “working with each other and living in truthfulness.” Sometimes we speak of this as “academic integrity”—a euphemism for not cheating. But it goes much, much further than that. We don’t often claim that we have the truth, for we know that truth must be shown in truthful action; it is most clearly seen when we live in the truth, rather than in some particular theory, or articulation of it. The truth exists in God. And Jesus, we believe, is the way, the truth and the life. But we ourselves, with all of our scholarly tools and methods, will only have an approximation of that truth. Even the great philosophers like Plato knew that the truth was hard to find and impossible to utter. St. Augustine claimed that we would never be at peace until we rest fully in God, who is the truth. For the classicists among us, he put that statement in the subjunctive mood, indicating that we are always seeking the truth and peace of God and in this world cannot claim to have it in fullness as our own. Those who claim full truth, whether it be as knowledge or a particular vision of how we ought to live in this world, know neither what nor who they are nor the depth and height of what they seek, said St. Augustine.

***

Tucked into the FPU Idea is a statement about this search for truth: “All authentic knowledge and experience are unified under God. All aspects of reality are understood to be parts of a larger whole. There is no contradiction then between the truth of revelation, of scholarly investigation and of action.” This is our beginning–we see no contradiction between the truth we seek in the laboratory, the library, the classroom, in experiences working and serving and the truth we seek in scripture, in worship, and in following Jesus.

***

 The second virtue that we hope has become a part of you also builds on our understanding of community, and it lies behind our recognition that professors are more than advisors, they are mentors. This second virtue I will call “Imitation.”

 Most institutions of higher learning, and the modern world in general, believe in the myth that learning is about facts and reason, data and skills. All you have to do is get the right information, practice the skills to manipulate that information and you will have what you need. How simple it would be if that were the case.

 It is never that simple. St. Paul says in Phil 4:9, the reading you heard earlier, “those things which you learned and received and saw in me, these do, and the God of peace will be with you.” Imitation is in the seeing, receiving, and doing. “What you received and saw in me…do.” Your professors and others you have worked with in the library, in student life, in the Regional Centers, on committees and projects, in work in the community, and on the athletic field have let you in on their lives and professions. When you have researched with them, traveled with them, discussed difficult topics, struggled over choices to make, examined the problems in your field of study, they have become models for imitation. We might paraphrase Paul’s message like this, “what you practiced in the classroom or in the community or in research, what you saw me model for you, do this and you will be on your way to learning.” 

***

 There is one final characteristic or virtue of learning that composes our hidden curriculum. It is caring or love. It too is part of the larger community ethos of Fresno Pacific. I learned a long time ago that one of the secrets of the success of our faculty was that they cared for or loved their students. Our professors would do whatever they could to help their students learn, succeed and move on prepared for the next stage of their lives.

Care is a less emotional way of saying love. But it is the word that our greater community uses often. It lies beneath the language of “service”.

***

 Someday you will find yourself saying something familiar and you won’t be able to place it. Or you will pursue a problem or question all the way to the bottom until you are sure you have as much of the truth as you can find. Or you will respond to a colleague, a student or a customer with care and love for their needs, hurts or aspirations. And after a moment’s reflection you will say, ‘I remember, Professor or coach or RD or a staff person…you fill in the name…said or did that” and you will be reminded of the hidden curriculum of truthfulness, imitation, and of care and love, that is now a part of who you are and what you have become as a graduate.

I was asked to speak at the MA in Leadership/MBA Graduate dinner for the School of Business Dinner last week. There are many such events near commencement as programs and schools celebrate the success of their students. It gave me a chance to think about what it means to have a “masters” degree. I like these invitations to offer a brief talk (in this case about 5 minutes)—they make you get the heart of a topic or offer one story. Here is my attempt for the School of Business graduates.

You are now a “Master”

Congratulations once again. You won’t get tired of hearing that between now and commencement next week. Sometimes it is good to step back and reflect on just what a particular accomplishment is. So let me do a little comparison…from Medieval History (of course)

A BA gets you started. Its name comes from the young men who formed the first students in European Universities…not yet married, not yet professionals, just beginning.

An MA comes from the language of guilds. The master is one who was in a literal way a master of a craft, or in this case the field of study. Teachers in the medieval university formed a guild. The masters are able to apply their expertise to particular circumstances. A new master has at least applied the knowledge of the field of study to one significant project, and can do so for others. To become a “master” in a particular craft in the guild system you had to create a “masterpiece”—your thesis or project is your “masterpiece.”

You are now masters of your field—this signifies that you have “mastery” in leadership or business. You are seasoned in your understanding. You are professionals. You can apply your knowledge in multiple situations. You are ready to practice your craft—you are leaders in your guild.

I hope you now recognize this in yourself, in the way you approach your work, whether it is in business or in some other kind of organizational leadership. I hope you can take a moment to reflect, see this in yourself, and indulge yourself with a little self-congratulation.

I have a confession to make. I have been practicing leadership and management for three decades, helping to lead and manage a very complex organization. I am mystified by much of leadership, even though I have taught it to undergraduates. I could use your conceptual tools.

Many practical leaders walk in my shoes—we intuit what must be done; our experience guides us. But we are not quite sure how to do it; so we muddle through by trial and error, developing our own little rules that are more or less helpful. I have learned to turn to people like you who have the mastery I don’t have. I tell you this because you now have the knowledge and understanding to put yourself forward to people like me and help us out of our mystification. We need you!

500 years ago Francis Bacon claimed, rightly, that “knowledge is power.” But it is more than this. It is opportunity to serve. Your mastery of your field of study is a gift that you can offer to others. Of course you will be tested. No leadership situation, no management problem is ever exactly like another. There are too many variables—you know this. And knowledge doesn’t necessarily translate into success. But you can offer to come along side, stand with, and offer some guidance to those who are starting or running a business, leading a non-profit or community organization, or guiding and shepherding churches (church leaders often ask me where they can find assistance).

You can offer yourself and your knowledge to those facing challenging situations. You have the tools to start a new, with a distinct mission, and see it thrive. You have something valuable with which to succeed and to serve.

Let me offer you a final thought. St. Paul says it this way (Col 1:9-10) “For this reason…we have not ceased praying for you and asking that you may be filled with the knowledge of God’s will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding, so that you may lead lives worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to him, as you bear fruit in every good work, and as you grow in your knowledge of God.

A Benediction: May your knowledge and expertise abound in all good works, in service to God, his people, and in knowledge of God. May you know yourself prepared for this work. May you find that place of unique service where your knowledge and gifts are used for the good of many.

This is the Latin phrase shouted yesterday by crowds in Rome when the white smoke signaling the choice of new pope rose into the air, and when Pope Francis I appeared in his white robes. Mennonites and Evangelicals have historically not been much interested in the papacy, but all of that has changed both among these traditions which have been founding and majority Christians among FPU students and faculty, and at FPU.

At FPU Roman Catholic students are our largest single religious denomination. If you group together other denominations in to families (non-denominational, Evangelical, or Charismatic, for instance) you will get larger numbers, but as a single body Roman Catholics are first at somewhere around 18-20% of the total student body, about 14% on the Fresno Campus, and just under 30% among our degree completion students in the regional centers. Over the years we have had various Catholic student clubs, and Catholic-Protestant clubs meeting to understand each other and for unity in faith. And some of our students are passionately faithful Catholics for whom a new pope is a great sign of hope and of Jesus’s care for his Church. We celebrate with them!

But Francis I in choosing the name he has, and in his reputation for serving the poor in Buenos Aires, for living humbly, and for pastoral care resonates with our practice of service and mission. And it resonates with our understanding of the practical following of Jesus at the center of our faith.

Some commentators have emphasized already (it’s been less than 24 hours) that Francis brings a new sense of openness, pastoral warmth, and willingness to engage with the people of the Church and the world. Our memories are short, however (says the historian). It wasn’t long ago that this was one of the hallmarks of the great papacy of John Paul II with his appeal to the youth of the world. And if Benedict XVI was not as open and warmly personable as his predecessor, he was one who carried on John Paul II’s pastoral concerns. His first encyclical was entitled “Deus Caritas Est,” God is Love, and his major accomplishment may well be his three volumes on the life of Jesus. It is a good time for Catholics and Protestants to be together at FPU. We represent in a small way the healing of the wounds of division that have separated us for almost 500 years.

There is one more thing that we from different denominational traditions can share in the coming years and decades, I think. For the past generation Evangelicals, Mennonites and Catholics have been joining hands over two shared commitments: common moral and social concerns, and a witness to traditional, orthodox, or Biblical beliefs in Jesus as redeemer and Lord. We have grown together as wings in many of the denominations and unaffiliated movements have left these more traditional commitments and turned to alternative understandings of Jesus, and identified social programs and electoral politics as the practice of the faith. Our churches have split within themselves and the divided wings have found partners among other denominations.

One of the more prominent examples of this is the group of thinkers who produced the joint statement “Evangelical and Catholics Together.” Fr. Richard John Neuhaus of First Things and Chuck Colson of Prison Ministries International led the movement. And more recently George Weigel, biographer of John Paul II, has written of “Evangelical Catholicism.” Among its defining characteristics, he writes, are “friendship with the Lord Jesus Christ,” “conversion of life” and “participation in works of service and charity,” and being “biblically centered…that reads the Bible as the Word of God for the salvation of souls.” Evangelical Catholicism, he says, “awaits with eager anticipation the coming of the Lord Jesus in glory,” is “ordered to mission–the proclamation of the Gospel for the world’s salvation,” and “enters the public square with the voice of reason, grounded in gospel conviction.” (See First Things, March 2013, available through the Hiebert Library’s databases.) Along with these characteristics that many will share, are others of specifically Catholic doctrine and practice that they will not. But the common commitments that have animated the spiritual life and practice of FPU are here, shared among bodies of believers that were once divided.

I have found this life of, as we sometimes say, “Evangelical, Anabaptist and Ecumenical” Christianity at FPU spiritually and intellectually enlivening. It has been my honor to teach our students, both Protestant and Catholic, about their “Catholic” history and ancestors. We are part of the Christian world that is bringing together sisters and brothers from many of the divided churches for learning, faithfulness to God’s call, and service to our churches, communities, schools, businesses, city, and world.

We celebrate with our Catholic students a new pope, Francis I. In some ways we can all say “Habemus papam!”

I spent the last few days in Phoenix with the Chief Academic Officers (CAOs) of the Council for Christian Colleges and Universities (CCCU) at our annual meeting. There are two elements that I really enjoy about these meetings. First I get to catch up with friends and colleagues from around the country. It is always comforting, in a strange sort of way, that most universities have similar problems and similar opportunities. We struggle with the same things and have some of the same hopes. We share ideas, complain about struggles, and, because it is the CCCU, worship together.

Second for a couple of days we leave administrative tasks behind (though everyone is checking back with their offices, sending emails, making calls, mediating disputes by phone—”leave…behind” I suppose is a relative phrase) and discuss substantive higher education topics such as students and their needs, faculty, scholarship, the mission of Christian Higher Education, and the integration of faith and learning. This year we met jointly with the Chief Student Affairs Officers (as far as I know there is no acronym—CSAO?) to discuss recent research on the character of the current traditional university attending population.

This year’s discussion was the third book by Christian Smith, Professor of Sociology at Notre Dame (and a graduate of a CCCU institution), the principal investigator on the now decade long National Study of Youth and Religion (NSYR). And it is an extra, previously unplanned book. Let me explain. This national study follows a cohort of students from their teen age years, through traditional college age, and then through their mid- and late-twenties. The first book was about the teen age years, Soul Searching: The Religious and Spiritual Lives of American Teenagers (2005);
the second investigation of the study caught back up with these students in the college years and resulted in Souls in Transition: The Religious and Spiritual Lives of Emerging Adults (2009). The research is now being done on the mid- late-twenty years; the data and reports can be found at the website of the NSYR.

Smith and his team of researchers felt that there was more to say about emerging adults (aged 18-29, but not yet “real adults,” meaning without adult responsibilities like homes, children, etc.). The title explains it: Lost in Transition: The Dark Side of Emerging Adulthood (2011). The topic is of obvious importance to those of us in universities. We need to know about our students in order to teach well, understand their particular needs, and address issues they face and may not even know how to articulate. And this generation, different from previous ones, is facing a series of trials that we need to understand, address, and help guide them through, if we can and they will let us.

The chapter titles illustrate this “darker side” of the souls in danger of being “lost in transition.” Smith was there with us in Phoenix and walked us through the research in some detail and added good anecdotal illustrations. This cohort of students suffers from being (1) “morality adrift;” they have been taught or absorbed that moral rules, guides or codes are fundamentally “relative”—what’s right for one is not right for another. They are (2) “captive to consumerism;” they expect material comfort and rewards and think that if they are not part of the general desire to acquire the economy will suffer. So why not join in? They seek release and comfort through (3) “intoxication’s ‘Fake Feeling of Happiness;” a fairly high percentage of students drink or take drugs to excess as a way of covering over their anxiety and unease.

This is the second and third generation after the sexual revolution of the 60s and 70s. They experience (4) “the shadow side of sexual liberation;” and this experience of casual sexual activity, temporary relationships, and lack of commitment has consequences for them both short and long-term. Finally (5) they suffer “civic and political disengagement;” they do not think that they can have an effect on the culture or governance of our society. This is ominous (I am speaking out of my own discipline now) in a number of ways: it turns them to focus on themselves and their individual temporary desires, assuming they have no responsibility for their communities, and it leaves them subject to demagoguery and ideologues without knowing how to sift through their claims. This chapter, by the way, the result of rigorous research, contradicts some of our previous assumptions that said young adults were highly concerned with justice and social activism. Or perhaps we have a slightly younger cohort of students and attitudes have shifted from one to the next.

Let me offer one result of this discussion. I spoke with Prof. Smith for about 30 minutes following his last session. I asked how he translated his findings into teaching, particularly chapter 1 on “morality adrift,” into the teaching of ethics. In the past we who teach ethics have often started with the sense that our students bring a narrow sense of right and wrong to the discussion. We then try to open them up to how different peoples and groups understand what is good and this sometimes means that we have to show the limitations of what they bring—to relativize their thinking, ask them to consider other notions of what is good or bad, and how to understand them. This seemed, and did, fit the student of past generations and decades. Now the need is the reverse. Now we must help them ask the question about their assumed moral relativism, and whether there might indeed be rights and wrongs that need to be recognized. He noted in his presentation that “cultural relativity” is not the same thing as, nor does it necessarily imply, “moral relativism.” We talked in those short minutes about how to teach this “emerging adult” population.

One of my tests of the depth of an author or scholar is whether they recognize the limits of their conclusions. Smith noted several times that the data did not give us enough information to answer the question posed. And he noted new questions that had arisen. He satisfied my test. I have left a lot out—the sociological background, how churches are affected, how young people struggle in this new world, their hurts and hopes, and on and on. As Smith told us “read the book!”

Last week we were once again delighted by the annual “Visiting Writers Series” named in honor of and supported by two long time friends of Fresno Pacific Jean and Louis Janzen. Jean is well known both locally and nationally (and beyond) as a poet with what I think of as a sacramental insight and gift. At least this is how I experience her poetry. I don’t know if she would agree. I just picked up her new prose collection Entering the Wild: Essays on Faith and Writing (2012). The title comes from one of the essays in the volume on writing, the last section of which is on spirituality. It’s in my brief case for immediate reading.

Our poet this year for the Visiting Writers Series was Julia Spicher Kasdorf who read from her recent collection Poetry in America (2011). The title is wonderfully ambiguous, as is much good poetry. Prof. Kasdorf teaches at Penn State and had been with us several years ago in the same series. Her poetry, again in my experience, is playful, sometimes ironic, and very witty. Here’s one sample:

    Sun rises late over the frozen graves

    across from my porch. Smoke lifts from chimneys.

    Snow scrims and clings to everything. Season

    of books and chairs, season of bickering….

By the time we get to the books and chairs, we can almost smell the tea or coffee and feel the warmth of the fire, then that “season of bikering” arrives. There was surprise and laughter at the reading a week ago, and much thoughtful listening.

Poets help us see and name things and experiences we perhaps noticed, but couldn’t comprehend. The poet can open our eyes to depths we did not know existed, depths of the good, beautiful, and holy, and depths of evil and pain. They show us the magic of words, sound and rhythm. We can’t plan, calculate and resolve everything. Perhaps there is little we really can. Poetry moves us from problems to mystery in the words of the philosopher Gabriel Marcel. This is one of the reasons all students are required to take courses in the arts, even if they are science and business majors. I think we could do with a bit more poetry.

My thanks to the English department, and especially Dr. Eleanor Nickel for coordinating and hosting the Visiting Writers Series.

Education happens on the weekends too. Yesterday evening, Friday, we were Christ Temple Church for the first part of a two day event organized and hosted by Dr. Karen Crozier, Assistant Professor of Practical Theology and Special Assistant to the Provost for Peace and Justice Initiatives. The event was officially sponsored by my office, the Provost’s Office, but Karen is the person behind and in front of the event. The first such weekend of study and celebration was last year–we may be on to an annual event.

Right now I am in Wiebe Center with a group of about forty students and ten instructors and presenters discussing one of King’s speeches read to us by FPU student (and track athlete) Norris Lee, “Why American May Go to Hell.” King preached on Jesus’s parable of Dives and Lazarus. Dives, the “millionaire,” ignored the poor at his door. Lazarus, the poor man, ended up in Heaven; Dives landed in Hell. As Jesus said what you do to the least, you do to me. A sobering speech, not often printed, not comfortable to listen to, but powerful in content and in Norris’s delivery.

Last night we heard Howard Thurman’s eulogy for King. In the Peace Circle (Karen is very skilled at hosting and managing these) I was in two of our group had grown up as black children in the Jim Crow South of the fifties and early sixties. They could tell stories of the segregation or races and injustices they and their families faced. After the circles and reports, we listened to a panel of local pastors who work directly with the issues of segregation, unequal treatment, and poverty that King championed. In particular they discussed the Church’s role in this work. I was struck by how most of them combined into a working harmony the preaching of the Gospel to save the lost, the nurture and care of families and congregations, and active work in their communities on behalf of the poor, those in need to bring justice to their communities. Pastors have to work out an effective and subtle theology to help them understand the complexity of the work they do. I learned much from the panel. You will recognize a couple of them who are long time supporters of the FPU—in particular Pastors Paul Binyon and Jonathan Villalobos.

Now we are beginning another panel with Prof. Anna Berardi from George Fox University, Prof. Ryan Schellenberg from FPU’s Biblical Studies department, and Prof. Karla Kirk, instructor and program coordinator of African-American Studies at Fresno City College (and a BA and MA graduate in history of FPU). Later this afternoon the speakers for the afternoon panels will arrive, two from the City Council of Fresno, Blong Xiong, and Oliver Baines, Greg Garner from the Fresno Police Department, and Holly Sims (she says she is not a professor yet) from Indiana University, along with several others. The panel beginning now is about education. The afternoon panels are about Community and Civic groups, and later “The New Jim Crow.”

This final topic comes from a book of that title by Michelle Alexander who argues that the large proportion of African-American men now incarcerated amounts to a “new Jim Crow” society. It is a powerful thesis and there is something to it. Alexander notes that it is not the result of a conspiracy or an official policy, but the result of our basic social inequities, the uneasy relationships between races, and hopelessness among the African-American community. Pastors in the Black churches can tell you about the reality of what Alexander writes. Last year I was on a panel on this topic with Greg Garner and a FCC instructor. This one will take several years of work.

Prof. Berardi has now told personal stories about racial conflict as she grew up, and about how she attempts to teach her students. Prof Schellenberg explained how he tries to teach students to see elements of the text of the Bible that are somehow hidden from them—like the poor Lazarus in King’s sermon. Karla Kirk has reminded us of the need not to think that reflection on justice and injustice in our society is not the something that we take up one week in January each year. It is something we have to live.

But since I am blogging, I suppose I can have the last word. First we at Fresno Pacific owe a debt of appreciation to Dr. Crozier for her work on this event. I hope we can make it an annual event and we grow from the fifty who are here, to one hundred and fifty or two hundred.

Second as I have listened to and read King over the last weeks, and last semester when we read a couple of his brief works in my course on the history of political theory, I have become more and more impressed by King’s contribution in three ways. He is a consummate rhetorician and preacher and so his words grab us and shake us until we have to respond. Perhaps only Abraham Lincoln has the same stature in the American tradition of political speech. He is also able to bring together the best of the Christian and American intellectual traditions into his work. He brings in Jesus, Paul, St. Augustine and St. Thomas; he refers to natural law and the declaration of independence; he knows intimately modern theologians like the Jewish scholar Martin Buber and the Christian theologian Reinhold Niebuhr. He convicts us by judging us against the law of our deepest commitments. And finally King was an extraordinary gifted analyst of political and social situations and needs. He pointed out like no one else the character of southern society particularly and American society generally and the crucial need for civil rights, practical access to voting, and opportunities for jobs for all American. (I haven’t mentioned King’s non-violent approach—I am sure someone else at FPU is much more competent to do so than I am—but we can’t ignore.)

Well, maybe I shouldn’t have the last word, Karla Kirk is right now reminding us that King’s insight, passion and work grew out of his Christian faith. And she is encouraging students to see what we are discussing as a “calling,” a religious calling to follow in the way of Jesus. That seems a fitting close for this note.

An interesting discussion reoccurred in one of our academic meetings this week. It comes up with some frequency–sometimes sides are picked, and sometimes a mediating solution is proposed. For the first time a way through came to mind with some clarity. So let me try it out.

It is sometimes claimed, often in fact, that to be ready for today’s world students need to spend some time and gain some experience in international travel, especially to “third” or as they are sometimes now called “majority” world countries. This is the region of the future, the region of the majority of world population, the place of dynamic change, and a place of need. This is the world for both service and business opportunity. Students should be learning Spanish before French or German, and Chinese and not Russian. Sometimes a further claim is added that students do not need to travel to Europe, or learn the literatures or thought of Eurocentric thinkers. This is all in the past, or oppressive or now irrelevant. The first claim is certainly true; we do need to spend time in these parts of the world. There is need and dynamism. It looks like the future will be influenced more and more from these areas. There is also great need and suffering, and where people suffer God calls us to action. The second claim is at least questionable.

On the other side of this occasional debate is the claim that the classical liberal arts are necessary for a good education. A couple of arguments are regularly made, sometimes singularly, sometimes together. First it is claimed that the traditional liberal arts and sciences are necessary to develop critical thinking, good communication, and sophistication of analytical ability. They are the avenues or lenses of learning, or we need to know the languages of learning. Secondly it might be claimed that it is the content of the liberal arts that is important. Plato, for instance, raises the question of justice and the philosophical tradition develops it. We need to know the tradition of that development. There are “canonical” works, great works, the standards, that should be known, and that these great works are the furnishings of an educated mind. Without them we are left with derivative learning, lesser, compromised, or mere utilitarian professional learning. We are left without depth, and perhaps without truth. One or the other or both of these claims might be put forward, sometimes with sensitivity and nuance, sometimes without.

It struck me that both are in some measure true, but that they each speak to different goals of learning.

One of the goals of learning is to understand the world in which we live, the questions, problems and opportunities that confront us. We do need to know the global world around us, the dynamic world we live in, and we must enter into the new trends, needs and opportunities that confront us. The majority or third world is with us here now, not out there. It is no longer a Eurocentric or Amerocentric world. The west may indeed be losing its dominance, and will play a different role in the future. Spanish fluency is needed, and so is or will be Chinese. And as educators we want our students to know this global world, and they want to know it as well. We and they need to spend time there, to understand the dynamics we and they face, and to enter into a connected, mutually habitable world.

Another goal of learning is to engage in deep reflection on perennial questions, and to engage critical awareness. The so call traditional arts do not so much convey a particular truth as debate interconnected questions. They debate the meaning of justice. Plato only initiated one part of that discussion. The Old Testament, for instance, initiated another. Jesus refined it. Others in the so called canon disagree with all of these, and develop alternative understandings. Similarly there are others that debate the problem of political freedom, and the necessity and dangers of power, the origins and distribution of wealth, the nature of virtue and how we know what is good, and the nature and limits of human knowledge. John Locke and Adam Smith make particular claims about how property and freedom are necessary for the creation of wealth; Karl Marx worried, and rightly so, about the effects of industrialization, and distribution of wealth. Smith and Locke don’t agree with Marx, but they all must be understood unless we are to repeat painful and costly errors of judgment. Literary works feed the imagination that we take with us to global travels; history gives us some perspective and might inoculate us against chiliastic dreams; philosophy, theology, and religion enter into the deepest questions and provide glimpses of answers and remind us of mysteries beyond our small minds. The sciences provide both understanding of complexity and how forces and combinations can be altered and used.

Both goals of education are legitimate and necessary. Students who travel to the developing world engage deeply in the world we live in, and develop a broader horizon of experience and understanding. They see a broader world, and learn to tolerate, appreciate, and welcome differences, complexity and ambiguity. They see their homes differently and perhaps more critically. Their experiences are often life-changing. They sometimes find their vocation, their calling, their passion. It is a risky part of our education, but rich in rewards.

Students are also grabbed by the power of great works, by philosophical arguments, by imaginative creations; they gain a depth of understanding of people, the world and the nature, possibilities, and limits of their own understanding. To see the world through the eyes of Aristotle, Augustine, Dante, of Confucius, or Nietzsche, or Achebe is to gain depth of insight and understanding. These great formulations, whether we ultimately adopt any one of them as our own or not, are touchstones against which we can test our experience and understanding. Sometimes disagreement with a great thinker helps shape positively our understanding. Knowledge of history or economics, of the sciences will open our eyes to the character and processes of the places and things we experience. This core of knowledge need not be Eurocentric. There are works of great depth and beauty in all places where the human mind has flourished. We need to sit at their feet for a time, and both appreciate and wrestle with their offerings. But “modernity,” the globally connected world of dynamic change, for good or ill, is of European or western origin, and we ignore this at our peril. Scholars in the majority/third world struggle to understand this modern, western creation and so must we.

Our travel to and experience of the new and developing world is a legitimate, exciting, and even necessary element in our education. It brings questions, problems and opportunities to us. But we must understand how we might approach these experiences. Other, more mature minds have wrestled with our questions before us. We do well to attend to their discussions. Those discussions are not the be all and end all of education. They are to be taken to the world we live in and experience, a changing world of new places, peoples, ideas, schemes, hopes and tragedies.

Somehow we must include both of these goals and both elements in our educational process. They work together; they are not at odds. We are the poorer for it when we neglect either one. I have only touched the surface here, but you have been very patient to have read this far.

What a catchy title and stimulating topic!

Now that I have been in this area of higher education for about eight years, it seems like it is time for me to explain what it is that we as academic administrators do. I actually came up with this a few years ago, when I was Dean of the College, and used it to explain how higher education works to parents and students. It has helped me put the wide variety of things we do into perspective, and seemed to help those who listened to grasp what we did. I believe that what I will outline actually helps explain both a Christian and secular university, the religious institution just adds a layer of complexity that others might not have, and some additional possibilities as well. Here is how it goes.

As a kind of shorthand I describe academic administration very simply as bringing together three central blocks or groups of the educational experience. We bring together for the success of all: the faculty with its gifts and responsibilities, students and their needs and desires, and the educational program with its multiple requirements and constituencies. Let me explain in a little more detail.

At the core of a university is a faculty. They are part of the university before any single group of students arrive and remain after it graduates and leaves. As a body they design and approve the educational requirements of the university, its programs or majors, and its entrance and graduation requirements. They are also active scholars. A contemporary university exists in the midst of rapidly changing bodies of knowledge. Our faculty contributes to the growth and application of that knowledge. The administration must work to encourage the work of the faculty particularly in encouraging and making available the possibility of excellent teaching, creative development and assessment of academic programs that meet requirements of various constituencies, and the unique scholarly contribution of the university’s faculty.

The students are the next group. The university exists to teach the various academic disciplines, and, more importantly I think, how students can become something of scholars themselves, life-long learners as we sometimes say, or professionals who can practice, develop and lead in their disciplines. Students come to the university with particular desires—to complete a degree, gain entrance into a profession, and for broader and deeper learning for leadership in society and church, the goals of the traditional liberal arts. Sometimes they do not understand their desires and needs in quite the same way that the faculty does. Sometimes they are in close harmony.

Finally the faculty (and other university professionals like those in student life and spiritual formation departments) and students work together in and through an educational program—general education, academic majors, elective courses, co-curricular experience in student life, international travel, spiritual formation, residence programs, service learning and ministries, athletics, and performing arts—to accomplish the goal of higher learning, graduation and entrance into professions, leadership and service. The academic program must meet professional standards, governmental standards (state and federal, increasingly so), and must achieve its particular mission, in our case as a Christ-centered university.

I think of these three blocks or groups as overlapping circles.

We want them to overlap as much as possible. We seek and work for the success of all three. When mission, goals, purposes and understanding, efforts, and requirements coincide we see the success of all three.

We try to keep them from looking like this…

This little diagram illustrates what we do. Whether we are developing a new program, planning new classroom or performance spaces, assessing the outcomes of programs, planning new majors, preparing an accreditation report, bringing a speaker to campus, working on a budget, evaluating our work as faculty, making time for scholarly work, developing and assessing the co-curricular program, developing library resources, making sure information technology is functioning, setting up international partnerships—whatever the particular thing that we might be working on at any one time, we are working to make it possible of students and faculty to come together around an academic effort that is creative and insightful, and leads to the success of each. That is my shorthand for academic administration.

In one of my current doctoral courses, Social and Political Perspectives on Education, we have been reading, The McDonaldization of Society by George Ritzer.  If you have not read it, I would recommend that you get a copy.  As I reflect on my reading of this book, my eyes have definitely been opened.  McDonaldization values efficiency, predictability, calculability, and control in a system.  There have been moments of depression for me as I realize how much my family and I have bought into the principles of McDonaldization.  I felt especially attacked when Ritzer talked about vacations.   My favorite family vacation is a cruise because, as a dad, I do not have to see money leaving my wallet each time we choose to participate in an activity or eat a meal.   Also, you set your own schedule.  You can be involved with the ship activities or you can just go read a book on the deck and fall asleep.  We have a family campground membership as well but it is not really roughing it.  We do sleep in a tent trailer but we have many luxuries such as a clubhouse, nice showers, planned activities, etc.   Along with this, we have busy lives that necessitate the use of microwaves for simple cooking, the eating of fast food, and driving through Starbucks on the way to work.

On the other hand, I feel that Ritzer does give very little credit to the American consumer.  When we do travel, we try not to eat in the chain restaurants.   We search out the unique and local flavor of the community.  We choose to go to farmer markets to buy fruits and vegetables instead of Walmart when we have the opportunity.   We do try to cook more at home and spend less eating out.   We fight consumerism and materialism by serving others and giving to charity.  Consequently, Ritzer, at times, does overstate his case.  American consumers are not complete robots.  We can make good decisions and I think that he should explore these virtues to bring balance to his book.

Over the last 10+ years, I feel that the principles of McDonaldization have been applied to K-12 education.  No Child Left Behind brought about the national movement toward standards, accountability, and standardized testing.  As a result, NCLB was based completely on the implementation of efficiency, calculability, predictability, and control of the American school system from the federal level.  For more than a decade, I feel that we have had scripted education that is focused on student achievement measured by standardized tests.   We have taken away creativity, critical thinking, problem solving, project based learning, and the ability of teachers to be in control of their own classrooms.   I know that I am overgeneralizing and that there are schools and teachers out there that have found ways to resist these trends.  Yet, when I talk to K-12 educators, you can’t help but see the impact of the “caging of the human spirit” and its effects on students, teachers, and administrators who have been fighting the good fight.

Yet … I see hope on the horizon with the advent of the Common Core standards.   There will still be testing and accountability, but hopefully, the teaching strategies that I listed above will be allowed so creativity and critical thinking can flourish again.   The scripts and pacing charts will be gone and teachers will again be able to be the masters of their classroom.  We will have to see if this swing back helps break the chains of McDonaldization and frees the American classroom again to meet the needs of the whole child.  What do you think?   Does McDonaldization have a grip on your life?