Tampilkan postingan dengan label deg's posts. Tampilkan semua postingan
Tampilkan postingan dengan label deg's posts. Tampilkan semua postingan

Rabu, 06 Juli 2011

I Got More Qualms than the Bible's Got Psalms

Darren Grem

What do you get when you take the head of Sojourners and the director of the Southern Baptist Convention’s ERLC and toss them in a virtual room with one another?

This video throwdown on the federal budget!

Well, maybe "Skyped airing of qualms" is more accurate. In any case, for anyone interested in the rivalry between true believers on the American left and right, this one is ripe for analysis. (Bonus points for anyone keeping track of the number of hiccups in logic and fact made by both sides). Available for watching in 5-6 minute-long segments or 35-minute-long director's cut.

P.S. Good to see all y'all again after the long hiatus.

Selasa, 05 Januari 2010

Responding Religiously to the Great Recession

Darren Grem

Jim Wallis has a new book coming out soon on what he sees as the religious underpinnings and implications of the recent--and continuing--recession. As what I suppose is a boilerplate for that book, Wallis recently wrote this column for the Washington Post, offering a "religious response to the financial crisis." A selection:

Clearly, the financial crisis is a structural meltdown that calls for increased government regulation of banks and other financial players. Members of faith communities, such as those who joined me in front of the Treasury building, are helping to push for this sort of reform. But at its core, this is also a spiritual crisis. More and more people are coming to understand that underlying the economic crisis is a values crisis, and that any economic recovery must be accompanied by a moral recovery. We have been asking the wrong question: When will the financial crisis end? The right question is: How will it change us? This could be a moment to reexamine the ways we measure success, do business and live our lives; a time to renew spiritual values and practices such as simplicity, patience, modesty, family, friendship, rest and Sabbath.


It seems that any time Wallis writes a column, the volleys begin almost immediately. The American Enterprise Institute did not disappoint:

After reading his opinion piece in the Washington Post, however, I’m a bit baffled. What exactly does Wallis mean by a “religious response”? To be substantive, it should offer some added theological value not available elsewhere. And to be useful, any response must first understand the crisis itself. It shouldn’t just add biblical stories, phrases, or paraphernalia to common myths and misunderstandings of the crisis.

There's some more back-and-forth's on this matter available at your local Google.

Jumat, 13 November 2009

Bethany Moreton at Demos in NYC

Darren Grem

Hear ye! Hear ye! For anyone in the New York City area, Bethany Moreton will be at Demos on November 23, 2009 to talk about her new book To Serve God and Wal-Mart: The Making of Christian Free Enterprise (Harvard, 2009). Jeff Sharlet, author of The Family, will comment. Lew Daily, author of God's Economy, will be the discussion moderator.

In the spirit of service, here is a description of Moreton's book and a link to the event. All of the proceeds from Moreton's book go to the Economic Justic Coalition of Athens, Georgia and the InterFaith Worker Justice Center in Chicago.

Kamis, 08 Oktober 2009

Rebels with a Cross – New Book: Eileen Luhr’s Witnessing Suburbia

Darren Grem

Coming back from a long, dissertation-induced hiatus, I thought I’d push a book I read over the summer, Eileen Luhr's Witnessing Suburbia: Conservatives and Christian Youth Culture. From the publisher:

Witnessing Suburbia is a lively cultural analysis of the conservative shift in national politics that transformed the United States during the Reagan-Bush era. Eileen Luhr focuses on two fundamental aspects of this shift: the suburbanization of evangelicalism and the rise of Christian popular culture, especially popular music. Taking us from the Jesus Freaks of the late 1960s to Christian heavy metal music to Christian rock festivals and beyond, she shows how evangelicals succeeded in "witnessing" to America's suburbs in a consumer idiom. Luhr argues that the emergence of a politicized evangelical youth culture in fact ranks as one of the major achievements of "third wave" conservatism in the late twentieth century.

This is ground covered before by Colleen McDannell and Heather Hendershot. Yet, Luhr brings something new to the table, linking suburbanization, consumer culture, sexuality, post-modernism, youth culture, and evangelical politics. Luhr creatively reads her evidence, ranging from fan magazines to album covers to a Christian youth concert she attended in Orange County, California. Her take on Christian heavy metal—and how it fit into the sexual politics of the 1980s—is particularly provocative and a wonderful selection for courses in American religion and popular culture. (The picture of Robert Sweet, the drummer for Stryper, posing on the cover of Kerrang! magazine, proudly sporting chest hair and a NIV Bible, is worth the sticker price alone.)

As a whole, however, the book suffers a bit from repeating its points throughout the four main chapters and from not dealing with matters of religious consumption. Luhr offers little insight into how or why certain resources—from Christian punk fanzines to radio programming—were bought and used by suburbanites or how these products added to the religious identity of suburban youth. A point hinted at throughout, namely that race had a lot to do with the construction of suburbia and something to do with suburban forms of religious understanding, also should have been fleshed out more. It’s interesting to think of, say, CCM as a hyper-white brand of rock, ready for consumption by white suburbanites. Still, this is a solid addition to the growing body of literature on conservative politics and, more importantly, points us toward thinking of conservatism as both cultural practice and political impulse.

If only the Conservative Bible Project was out when she wrote the book…

Kamis, 08 Januari 2009

Quarterbacking for the Lord

Darren Grem

Tonight, in the BCS National Championship, the Florida Gators will lose to Oklahoma by 10 points (at least, that's what I want to happen). Leading them to this big disappointment will be Tim Tebow, a self-professed evangelical who has captured the attention and affirmation of the sports media (especially UF homers Todd Blackledge and Kirk Herbstreit) through his play on the field and demeanor off it.


Altogether, I think Tebow is a great example of how masculinity, race, evangelicalism, and celebrity culture intermix. Eileen Luhr and I talked about this at the AHA this year, discussing his parents' missionary work in the Philippines and involvement in legitimizing the Christian homeschooling movement. Tebow himself has also had connections to the Fellowship of Christian Atheletes (an organization certainly deserving of more study) and his own summer and spring break work in various missions fields has marked him as a sort of folk hero in evangelical circles.

I know we've talked a decent amount on this blog about football and religion, but I'd really like some comparative focus. I guess I get the grounding for Tebow's status as an evangelical folk hero. But is there something specifically evangelical about his status? Would similar social or religious dynamics underscore a non-white quarterback? Or a quarterback/star player at, say, Notre Dame or BYU?

Any thoughts on this would be welcome, especially since the big game's coming up. . . as long as, of course, everyone agrees that Matthew Stafford would have been better than Tebow on a neutral field.

Selasa, 23 Desember 2008

Best of Times, Worst of Times

Darren Grem

What happens to religion when the economy goes belly-up? Apparently, it results in a boom for evangelical churches:

“It’s a wonderful time, a great evangelistic opportunity for us,” said the Rev. A. R. Bernard, founder and senior pastor of the Christian Cultural Center in Brooklyn, New York’s largest evangelical congregation, where regulars are arriving earlier to get a seat. “When people are shaken to the core, it can open doors.”

This excerpt comes from a recent NYT article, and, it stands alongside this one and this one and this one to make a general, albeit anecdotal, answer to the question. Some quick googling reveals some more perspectives, like this one and this one and this one and, of course, our homespun ones here and here.

The economic fallout has also already affected holiday sales, seriously undercutting our "consumer rites" and spurring the first few rounds of gesturing about the "true" meaning of Christmas, Hanukkah, and Kwanzaa. The commodification of Festivus, it seems, is going smoothly despite the economic downturn. Festivus Pole sales are pushing 4,500 since 2004.

So, what does it all mean? Which groups or individuals will benefit most from the economic crisis? Which will take a hit? Economic panics have been instrumental in shaping American religious life before, but what about this one?

Maybe those questions are too speculative. But hey, speculation got us into this problem. Maybe it ain't all bad.

Jumat, 19 September 2008

PBS Prayer in America

Darren Grem

In the spirit of Ed and Matt's interview about Pentecostal conceptions of divinity and revelation, I thought I'd post the website for the PBS documentary Prayer in America. I believe it was run last November, but I caught it in re-runs more recently. Although less focused on a history of prayer in America than James P. Moore, Jr.'s book on the matter, the documentary offers a nicely varied set of clips about prayer's contemporary prevalence and power. Great for classroom use, especially on matters related to public religious life and lived religion.

Minggu, 17 Agustus 2008

Obama, McCain, and the Faith Forum

Darren Grem

In case you missed the "Faith and Politics Forum" at Saddleback Church last night, here's a site with all the transcripts. YouTube videos are available as well, starting here.

If you did catch it, either in part or in whole, I'd certainly like to open the floor for debate on the relative value of this forum, the opinions presented by the candidates, the political/religious impact of the forum, the rhetorical strategies employed, etc. Personally, I'm not sure the forum offered much in the way of serious engagement by either candidate with faith and politics, mostly because Rick Warren's brand of evangelicalism loaded the questions. But it certainly made for interesting viewing nonetheless.

Selasa, 24 Juni 2008

Stop the Presses! Or Not.

Darren Grem

How much of a role younger, white evangelicals will play in the November elections remains to be seen, but they're certainly flying around in pre-season reports. Reporters seem devoted to the notion that younger, white evangelicals are either apolitical or now ready to slap Obama stickers right next to the magnet Jesus fish donning their vehicular posteriors. To be sure, there's some Pew research to back these notions up in a very basic, general way, although it comes with some big caveats. Often overlooked in fly-over accounts was that the Pew Center concluded that younger, white evangelicals were "Less Republican, [But] Still Conservative," noting that they weren't much different than most conservatives (or Americans, for that matter) who are fed up with the Bushies. In turn, they remained more conservative than counterparts their age on questions concerning Iraq, law and order, abortion, and (I would proffer) free market capitalism. As such, though the opportunity is there, Obama probably shouldn't expect a windfall of younger, white evangelicals falling into his camp. John Green said as much, pointing out: ". . . Relatively few of the evangelicals who have moved away from the Republican Party have become Democratic, most have become independents." The numbers don't lie. In 2001, 55% of young, white evangelicals held Republican affiliations and, in 2007, only 40% do (still, that's a decently large minority). In the same period, Democrats only picked up a measly three percentage points while independent affiliations rose by six percentage points. I guess that means that if I ran as, say, a Bulldawg Party candidate, I'd be getting more younger, white evangelical votes than Obama.

What does this all mean come November? I'm willing to bet a case of Milwaukee's finest that it won't be an election maker or breaker since Bush has handily alienated more Republican constituencies than just plus-30 evangelicals and more swing voters than their Facebooking counterparts. Try as he might, McCain probably won't be able to overcome that fact. I'm also willing to argue that, in the long run, it won't be the cultural shift that some folks think it will be. To be sure, younger evangelicals might not jump in as short-list, "issues voters" as fervently as their parents' generation, but whether they will continue a drift leftward or middle-ward remains to be seen, especially as they get into their thirty and forty-somethings, have families, get corner offices, and start paying property taxes. As I believe John Turner has mentioned on this blog before, in four to eight years, we might be seeing report after report about the "revival of the Religious Right."

Meanwhile, James Dobson has officially thrown his two-cents in. I'll see your hermeneutics and raise you, sir!

Kamis, 29 Mei 2008

Deg's Dispatches, Part X

Dispatches from LeConte Hall 323 – Part X
by Darren Grem

Well, I finally received my course evaluations from my students, and they more or less related what I thought they would. Most students liked the variety that the “uncoverage” approach offered, particularly how we alternated between films, music, lectures, and discussions. They also enjoyed – to varying degrees – the course’s final assignment and how it offered an out-of-class opportunity to review material instead of having to do so via a final, comprehensive exam. Concerning whether the course helped them attain a greater appreciation for the subject matter, most students affirmed that it did, although a noticeable number averred that the course’s design and/or assignments prevented their grasp of the material. The workshop essays seemed like “busy work” for about a dozen of my students, and a strong majority recommended that they either be changed in format or dropped altogether. Not surprisingly, the reading quizzes were not appreciated and described as “nit picky” and “irrelevant to [the course’s] other assignments.” Overall, however, the students seemed to like the experiences that uncoverage offered, even if they remained skeptical of its full benefits or resentful of the workload.

Course evaluations are, of course, completely de-contextualized documents and, as such, some have to be read with a grain of salt. Who knows what the real reason is for some evaluations, particularly the ones that flame the course or the instructor. But, taken in general, they can offer some good critique and, in my case, I agree with most of the ones my students made. When considering my experiment with uncoverage this term, I have come to some conclusions about the pedagogy that I will certainly use to revise the course for next time around. They are:

1) Workload – For me, more work was required at the planning stages, but once the term got going, it was comparable with previous terms (although admittedly a little much at term’s end). For students, it was certainly a challenge. Some did not think the workload was too demanding, while others were completely swamped. Personally, I don’t think you’re working if you’re not working over 30-40 hours a week on your schooling. But, since a number of my students also work full-time or part-time outside of school, I’ll probably drop a number of assignments or reframe them to make them less time-consuming. This leads me to the next point. . .

2) Purpose-driven work – Rick Warren would be proud. I think that some of the assignments – particularly the essays – lost their gleam, both for them and me, because they weren’t as purposeful as they should have been. Sure, they were able to work on their grammar and style (and I saw significant improvement in both among a number of students). But, writing an essay per week can get repetitive and predictable – as can grading them – which tended to undercut a real benefit of uncoverage, namely offering students a chance to “dig” into documents. Given that, I will most likely write questions that will direct their readings of the documents in the future. These will be “purpose-driven” assignments, which explicitly state which historical/critical thinking skills they’re working on and then try to develop those skills in ways that weekly essays simply don’t.

3) Exams – As much as I don’t want to admit it, I think exams need to have a place in an uncoverage class. The reading quizzes tested whether they read the assigned selections, but did little to ensure actual learning. Exams may or may not do this either, but they do offer an opportunity for students to know what they’ve synthesized over the course of a month or so. I didn’t have an assignment that did that in the course, and I think three or four exams in a term would do that. So, quizzes out, exams in.

4) A/V Selections – The students loved these, and I liked seeing their gray matter humming when they were analyzing the film and music selections. Some will be retained and shown in full (Sister Aimee, This Far By Faith, Pluralism.com) while I will use selections from others (Black Robe, The Ten Commandments, Jesus Camp, etc.). I may use these to supplement lectures instead of just having stand-alone days for these A/V selections, but all in all, the films and music I used in the class are here to stay.

5) Course design – Having separate days for A/V viewing, lectures, and discussions led to a bit of disjointedness between classes. Likewise, leading off with A/V viewings left some students floundering for the main points of a section until I provided them to them in a follow-up or concluding lecture. So, in the future, I’ll probably lead off with lectures, give some scaffolding for a given section, and then follow them with A/V viewings and other supplementary exercises.

All in all, I think the uncoverage approach offers much for anyone wanting to teach an elective in American religious history. Taking cues from uncoverage techniques – such as workshops and A/V selections – are a marvelous way to focus on issues that a coverage approach might have to drive-by. In turn, you can use a workshop or A/V day to supplement a lecture or replace one, offering variety to the in-class and out-of-class experience for students or offering different ways to make the same points. This, however, has to be balanced with an eye toward synthesizing material for students, so that they don’t get lost in a forest of disconnected topics and points. The final assignment certainly does that, but a more traditional lecture can also be valuable tool in an uncoverage course, making students follow the leader a bit so they might later get more out of their own readings and self-led examinations of course material.

Regardless, if you decide to try it out, I would offer this final thought. Uncoverage offers a lot of valuable options, and its predominant value is in its options. So, if or when you do it, make those options work for you and your students. Next fall, I will try to make it work for a new elective on post-1945 America. We'll see how it goes and, if you're curious, feel free to contact me.

Jumat, 23 Mei 2008

Reading the Faithful

Darren Grem

Now that teaching's done, I've been able to get to my summer reading stack (and put the hurt on some dissertation chapters). First on my list was James M. O'Toole's The Faithful: A History of Catholics in America, recently published by Harvard UP.

I've been needing to brush up on my Catholic history, and this is an effective synthesis, telling the "bottom-up" story of American Catholicism from the perspective of lay Catholics. O'Toole's treatment is nicely divided into six "ages" - "The Priestless Church," "The Church in a Democratic Republic," "The Immigrant Church," "The Church of Catholic Action," "The Church of Vatican II," and "The Church in the Twenty-First Century" - that non-specialists and, especially, students, will find a helpful conceptual model for comprehending American Catholic history. To be sure, I doubt that Catholic historians will find many startling arguments in here, but I've found his narrative eye-opening, particularly his chapters on Catholicism in the the colonial era and early republic, and his treatment of the pope's relationship to the American "faithful" (as lay Catholics preferred to describe themselves). The implications of his book, as O'Toole sees them, are pressing since "A new age of the church in America has begun, and what form that church will take, what combination of old and new, will be up to its people to decide." One of the faithful himself, O'Toole wonders aloud: "What will be our collective national culture and ethos? How shall we behave toward each other, and especially toward the more unfortunate among us? What kind of discourse will we have with one another about what really matters to us as individuals and as a nation?" Most of those questions, O'Toole points out, are old ones, but also questions that Catholics share with most Americans. As such, his history is not just a religious history or a denominational history, but a readable, pertinent, and timely national history.

Jumat, 02 Mei 2008

Deg's Dispatches, Part IX

Dispatches from LeConte Hall 323 – Part IX
by Darren Grem

We finished the class up this week with the “culture wars.” By this point, my students should know that the “culture wars” ain’t all that new. Americans have been struggling to “define America” for quite some time, and religion has played a vital role in that struggle. Still, I wanted them to focus on the issues that have been divisive in the past forty years and why religious affiliations and affections have exacerbated those divisions or helped overcome them.

The “uncoverage” approach offered some interesting opportunities to navigate the culture wars, and I thought it best to begin by manufacturing a miniature culture war in class. I had the students watch clips from Jesus Camp and peruse several web pages connected with Harvard’s Pluralism Project. How would the youngsters and adults portrayed in Jesus Camp respond to the efforts of the Pluralism Project? In turn, how would those who support “pluralism” view militant evangelicals and their youth camps? Personally, I don’t like Jesus Camp very much as a documentary. And I have several qualms with the Pluralism Project’s thesis about the “new religious America,” but that’s why I picked both of these “sources.” I wanted students to use the sources to see where fundamental disagreements, mutual disparagement, and cultural disconnections could come from. Although we didn’t engage in a debate as in classes past (with the students acting out these dynamics as the historical actors themselves), we did have a fruitful, informal debate about how the participants in the various Jesus camps and the Pluralism Project contribute to and exemplify contemporary struggles to define America. Indeed, by the end of our debate, the students concluded that our subjects had differing takes on acceptable “traditions” and “innovations.” As such, the next few class sessions attempted to add more perspective on such questions of “tradition” and “innovation.” Students read about another miniature culture war – Catholic conflicts over Vatican II – and then read documents detailing the religious experiences of American Buddhists and Muslims. We used these documents to talk about how the “culture wars” reach into any number of religious corners and are not just limited to the classic "Jesusland vs. U.S. of Canada" binary. Clearly, cultural conflicts hit different religious groups in different ways, thus making notions of “tradition” and “innovation” less predictable than expected. Still, to ensure that they had a framework for understanding the political aftereffects of the culture wars, I gave a lecture on the Religious Rights, Religious Lefts, and Religious Middles, and why some members of each group have had more influence over the political process than others.

I made a number of these final classes optional in terms of attendance and reading because the students were starting work on their Final Assignment. Taking a cue from Lendol Calder’s Final Assignment – in which he has students pick between a conservative and liberal interpretation of post-war American history and defend their choice with documentary evidence – I had the students write a proposal for a national curriculum that would address America’s “religious literacy.” A number of students were thrown by the term “proposal,” and I had to clarify for them that what I wanted was essentially an argumentative essay about what documents they would use to increase American religious illiteracy. The goal of this project was to provide an alternative to the standard, final exam. Like a final exam, they had to treat American religious history as comprehensively as possible, but also select what documents and issues they wanted to emphasize as the “high points” that Americans needed to know. Since they weren’t under the time crunch of the usual three hour in-class exam, they could mull over ideas, use all the texts available to them, and, hopefully, show that they had learned something about how to think and write like historians, proposing a solution to a problem and defending it with historical analysis and documentation.

I’m currently grading these assignments, and I’ll offer some final thoughts about them – and the pros and cons of the "uncoverage" approach as a whole – in my final post. Until then...

Kamis, 24 April 2008

Deg's Dispatches, Part VIII

Dispatches from LeConte Hall 323 – Part VIII
by Darren Grem

Things are winding down in our “uncoverage” study of American religious history. Breaking into the late twentieth century this week, we studied the religious underpinnings of political activism, focusing on the civil rights movement and women’s movement. Another selection – Freedom Faith – from the PBS documentary This Far By Faith started us off. I wanted students to consider more than just the notable leaders of the civil rights movement, so they took notes on how this film portrayed the religious activism of African-Americans in the rural and small town South of the 1960s. By giving them some leading questions to guide their note taking, I tried to tie this film back to what we had studied previously about African-American religions and politics, as well as more theoretical concepts like the “religion of the American Way of Life” and “civil religion.” They were more successful at the former analysis than the latter, sometimes skipping completely over questions about how these activists both criticized and utilized notions of “religious freedom,” “religious individualism,” and “civil religion.” Only a few students caught on to these more conceptual connections, and this problem continued as they analyzed documents from the civil rights movement and women’s movement. Utilizing selections from King’s “Letter from a Birmingham Jail,” Malcolm X’s “Letters from Abroad,” and Mary F. Daly’s Beyond God the Father, I wanted them to consider the overlap between notions of “religious freedom” and “religious liberation.” How are the two connected? How might the former notion, however defined in various religions, inform similar or different interpretations of the latter notion? Oddly, our discussion of these matters was decidedly unsatisfactory, at least from my seat. Even though I graphed out some of their ideas on the board, this didn’t enliven our discussion much in either the morning or afternoon class. When thinking back, I believe I was asking the wrong questions – or too vaguely put questions – to elicit responses that helped them understand - or debate - the nuances of the material better. But I think their difficulty with this section was also symptomatic of another issue I’ve been having recently with certain aspects of this course’s “uncoverage” design.

Most history classes flow from lectures into discussions. “Uncoverage” works in the reverse, starting with discussions of “raw” history and then following with a concluding lecture. Although I think this reorganization is great for jolting students out of their comfort zone early in the term, I’ve increasingly come to believe that it grants diminishing returns later in the term. Students need scaffolding, and, frankly, nothing like straight-up lecturing grants that. That’s not to say that I’m going to return to a lecture-driven pedagogy for smaller classes like this one; rather, I want to reintroduce lectures at the beginning of specific sections of the class, particularly ones where I think the broad historical context is a necessary foundation for understanding a given set of documents, a film, etc.

There’s a number of other edits that I want to make to the course, but I’ll relate those later, after I get back the end-term course evaluations. We’re moving through our last section of the course – Religion in “Culture War” America – this week, and will finish things off with their writing portfolios and final assignment in the next. Until then…

Kamis, 10 April 2008

Deg's Dispatches, Part VII

Dispatches from LeConte Hall 323 – Part VII
by Darren Grem

How has religion been used to define and defend an “American way of life?” We pursued this question via the most recent section of our “uncoverage” tour of American religious history, and, to start off, I had my students reflect on the marvelous collection of FSA/OWI photographs that Colleen McDannell has collected for her Material History of American Religion Project. I asked them to consider both the artistic elements of these photos, but also how each used religion and religious groups to relate certain ideas about “genuine American-ness” and the “genuine American.” What did these photos say about Catholics and American identity? About rural Baptists? About Jews in northern farming communities? About African-Americans? After addressing these questions, we considered what these photos don’t say about American religion in the 1930s-1940s. The lack of religious conflict portrayed, as well as the exclusion of other prominent religious groups, seemed to reflect the desire of federal officials to simplify religious scenes and groups into role models for individualism, collective sacrifice, and cultural harmony. We continued our inquiry by looking at another cultural product from the 1950s that taught similar lessons in the midst of the Cold War – The Ten Commandments. How did Cecil B. DeMille use the Moses story to teach American moviegoers about America’s role in the Cold War? What was he trying to say about the state, “freedom,” individualism, and the implications of this conflict? How was he trying to appeal to multiple audiences and how might those audiences – Protestant, Catholic, Jewish, etc. – have responded to his efforts?

Since I thought both the photos and the film showed, visually, the constructed union between American religion and an “American way of life,” I also wanted my students to reflect on what various observers in the 1930s-1950s thought about this union. Selections from Will Herberg’s Protestant-Catholic-Jew reiterated many of the points made by the A/V selections, while selections from Dorothy Day’s The Long Loneliness and Jack Kerouac’s Dharma Bums complicated them. Could one retain a religious approach informed by, say, communist activism in an intensely anti-communist environment? If Protestant-Catholic-Jewish affiliations were acceptable, what did Americans think about other religious traditions, such as Kerouac’s quasi-Buddhist interests? Why or how did Day and Kerouac challenge – or perhaps affirm – the “American way of life” lauded by the FSA/OWI and DeMille? To firm up their answers to these questions, I finished off our inquiry into the immediate post-war period with a lecture on how American religions were affected by the broader social and political context of the Cold War. Through this lecture (and the week’s work), I wanted my students to reflect on how the Cold War could create a remarkable amount of religious awareness and consensus but, ironically, also encourage challenges to the religious status quo. As such, this section was as much a set-up for future weeks as anything else, preparing my students to see why later movements – whether led by civil rights activists, feminists, or others – used religion to affirm and reject certain elements of the “American way of life.”

Since I work on the post-war era, this section was more or less in my wheelhouse. The students, also, recognize much in the period, either from their own impressions about the 1930s-1950s, their parents’ and grandparents’ remembrances, or Tinseltown’s various portrayals. Given that, I also tried to remind them – as I’ve done throughout the term – that the past is a foreign country, the 1950s no less than the 1850s or 1750s. To be sure, its proximity to our own time makes it more recognizable, but that doesn’t mean that interpreting this period should rely on mere intuition. By making my students consider how both government and individuals united religious affections to national affirmation, I wanted them to detach themselves from easy interpretations about the naturalness of the period and its strange uniting of religion to an “American way of life.” In turn, I wanted them to understand how and why certain groups and individuals might be alienated or angered by such collusions, and why that might lead to political action. At this point, it’s hard to gauge how well this lesson took, but as we move to study the religious conflicts created by various liberation movements, I believe they’ll see how the “American way of life” could take on more religious meanings than they might expect.

Senin, 31 Maret 2008

Deg's Dispatches, Part VI

Dispatches from LeConte Hall 323 – Part VI
by Darren Grem

For the past few weeks, we explored the coming of “modernity” and its impact on American religions. To start off, my students explored the impact of immigration on America’s religious landscape, looking at the “theologies of the street” that American immigrants created in urban centers like New York and Chicago. I’ve been a big fan of Robert Orsi’s since I read his work on the subject as an undergrad, and I tried to drive the students toward considering his conclusions about what “street theologies” can teach about the immigrant experience. Thus, they viewed A/V selections of the Italian festa, along with slides of Irish Catholic festivals and Jewish practices in the Hester Street community, analyzing how immigrants used public displays of religion to state something about their immigrant communities, their collective identities, and their relative status as religious insiders/outsiders. After this, I had them consider the impact of consumer capitalism on American Protestantism. To do so, I lectured on “economic modernity,” integrating into the lecture the conclusions they developed from reading selections from Russell Conwell’s “Acres of Diamonds” sermon and Walter Rauschenbusch’s writings on the Social Gospel. Finally, we had a debate – lightly attended due to the coming of Spring Break – about religious nativism, looking at how and why certain Native American, Catholic, and Protestant observers conflicted over the definition of “mainstream” religious America.

Given that earlier in the term we spent nearly a week and a half on the creation of the “religious marketplace,” I probably should have spent more time on this important period in American history. Although their essays and A/V analyses showed that they “got” the major trends of the period, I thought that we should have studied it more thoroughly. Boiling fin-de-siècle America and its religious transformations into three days made the period go by too quickly for my tastes and, as such, I thought we only skimmed the surface of why the period matters. Our study of fundamentalism – which happened after Spring Break – perhaps granted more context, but, even with it I thought we over-focused on the particulars of the fundamentalist/modernist controversy. Instead of connecting it to the larger shifts in the era, I believe we treated it as a solitary conflict, somehow related to larger demographic, economic, and cultural changes but not clearly related to them. Missing a viewing of Sister Aimee, the PBS documentary based off Sutton’s book, due to some technical difficulties, didn’t help. That documentary lays out the context for fundamentalism quite nicely, and it was a real loss to have it go by the wayside.

Of course, I have yet to read their essays on fundamentalism, so I may be overstating the problem. My students have continually surprised me with how well they understood the major points of the document sets they’ve read, as well as how well they’ve connected them to larger trends we’re studying. Thus, my concerns may be allayed when I pick up the green and red pens for one more go-round. In addition, their debate on the matter of public funding for religious instruction was a pretty good one, showing that they knew certain “broader” reasons for fundamentalist/modernist conflicted over evolution then, plus how and why that debate has both continued into today.

With that debate (since it was our last), I also think that I can start draw some preliminary conclusions about the effectiveness of these historical simulations. First, I will certainly use the debate format again. They were a nice break in the flow of the class, and they yielded both some valuable frivolity and valuable insights on the part of my students. Second, in the future, I will institute some way to police students to ensure that they’re preparing properly for the debates. Like many open-floor exercises, there tended to be distinct talkers and sitters, and I want more of the former and less of the latter. Perhaps including a mandatory talk policy would help matters, decreasing the opportunity for students to sit back and let the more talkative (and, presumably, more well-read) students lead the way. Any suggestions on how to reframe these debates so students can get more out of them would be appreciated.

Up next: Religion and the “American Way of Life” (whatever that means).

Kamis, 06 Maret 2008

Deg's Dispatches, Part V

Dispatches from LeConte Hall 323 – Part V
by Darren Grem


During a review session for an exam I gave in this course last fall, a student remarked that the early nineteenth century’s religious history was the most confusing subject she had ever studied. That’s understandable. The era has certain qualities that students might find familiar, such as the voluntary principle, and others that are completely unfamiliar, from Shaker communalism to slaveholder apologetics. The sheer number of religious groups that fight for prominence – or fade from prominence – after the Revolutionary era likewise can be daunting. Thus, to make it more of a sensible mess, I divided up the pre-Civil War section into three parts: 1) the “early religious marketplace” 2) African-American religions and slavery and 3) the Civil War era.

We started our investigation of the early religious marketplace with the evangelicals, looking at how and why revivalism spoke to Americans in the early 1800s. I’ve often found it hard to convey through lectures why revivals were meaningful events, so I decided to use the “sights and sounds” of the early revivals to do the job for me. I showed a number of slides that detailed what occurred at camp meetings and coupled these with early evangelical song lyrics, hoping to get students to think about why someone living in the early nineteenth century might find these events attractive or off-putting. By following this analysis with selections from Alexis de Tocqueville’s Democracy in America and Philip Schaff’s America, I wanted students to consider how the voluntary principle could have long-ranging effects, allowing new groups to develop followings while fundamentally reshaping the relationship between religion and the broader political order. De Tocqueville and Schaff offered the additional benefit of having my students reflect on how others have tried to make sense of America’s religious environment, much like they were trying to do in the class (other readings, such as selections from Will Herberg’s Protestant-Catholic-Jew and Robert Bellah’s Habits of the Heart will follow in this vein). Initially, I thought the tour of evangelical revivals was more successful in conveying the ramifications of a religious marketplace than the more conceptual reflections of de Tocqueville and Schaff. But after reading their essays on these observers, I noticed that they grasped the complexities of the religious marketplace well enough, which set us up to start playing with their first impressions about the liberties of that marketplace.

In a lecture about “religious insiders and outsiders” I told my students that “religious freedom does not necessarily result in full scale religious tolerance.” They read selections from Leonard Dinnerstein’s Anti-Semitism in America to drive home this point, as well as several chapters from our textbook, Butler, et al.’s Religion in American Life, which detailed the various religious groups that were at odds with “respectable” religious practice in early America. To illustrate why certain religious groups – like evangelicals, Mormons, Catholics, Transcendentalists, and African-Americans – would conflict with one another, we had a Presidential-style debate in the class after the lecture. The idea for a mediated debate came from one of my undergrad professors, who frequently used them to show why certain historical conflicts were reconcilable and others were not. To prepare for their debate, the students read documents from five different religious figures – Joseph Smith, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Charles Grandison Finney, Elizabeth Ann Bayley Seton, and Jarena Lee – and were instructed to engage in a debate with anyone in the room on matters of religious authenticity and authority. They had to speak in the voice of the figure they represented and had to be aggressive (for some reason, undergrads have a tendency to be too nice with one another during exercises like this, working toward consensus instead of conflict).

Both classes got into the exercise to varying degrees, but I was especially pleased with how well they assumed the perspective of the leaders under study. Some were more difficult for them than others (e.g. Emerson), but all in all, they laid out the conflicts and concessions of the era quite well. I worried afterward, however, that they might remember the debate as a fun exercise instead of an instructive one. Could they, if I asked them now, remember the particular points that, say, Smith and Finney disagreed about? I suppose I will have to wait until their end-of-the-term comprehensive papers come in to find out. Regardless, it was a nice exercise that forced them to read the documents under study (to avoid embarrassment during the debate) while breaking up the rhythm of the course.

We started our study of African-American religions with the first episode of the excellent PBS series This Far By Faith. This documentary lays out the multiple genealogies and expressions of African-American religious culture, and it set us up for broader considerations about how the religious history of slavery fit into America’s early religious marketplace. Since we had been on the topic of religious freedom, insiders, and outsiders, I asked students to view African-American religions along those lines, looking at how slaves, free blacks, and ex-slaves utilized religion to craft their own interpretations of “religious freedom.” Frederick Douglass’s Autobiography, Thomas Wentworth Higginson’s account of “Negro Spirituals,” and W.E.B. Du Bois’s commentary in The Sorrow Songs helped them do that, offering perspectives on pre- and post-emancipation black Christianity in particular. Their papers on these individual accounts of black Christianity were quite insightful (grammar and style, of course, remain a never-ending battle). In general, however, they showed that they grasped how and why religion mattered for slaves, slaveholders, and ex-slaves. To clarify the long-term importance of this religious culture, I lectured about the history of African-American Christianity after slavery, reiterating that the “outsider” status of many blacks continued to grant an important role for religion (and encourage religious innovation), both in the South and in the North.

We also stayed in the post-Civil War period briefly to end our examination of the pre-Civil War era. I took the students (on a particularly frigid day for Georgia!) down to a Confederate Monument downtown. Like other monuments to the “Lost Cause,” this one is double-dipped in religious imagery. The students did some field work there, making inferences about how this monument’s religious aspects helped (white) southerners make sense of the war’s coming and going. Given that the monument proclaimed the Civil War to be a “religious event,” I asked them to make connections between it and documents from before the war, which likewise interpreted the conflict over slavery in religious ways. Via the writings of Angelina Grimké, Catharine Beecher, and George Armstrong, they were exposed to abolitionist, gradualist, and apologist perspectives on slavery. They debated in small groups how each utilized religion to build their various platforms and we inferred from their writings whether the Civil War fit the definition of a “religious war.” I think that the next time I teach this class, I will need to include an additional day to make more explicit the connections between the pre-war religious sentiments circulating about slavery and the post-war interpretations of the conflict. By compressing the topic into two days, we simply didn’t have enough time to draw those lines as tightly as I would have liked. In addition, we didn’t get the chance to connect the war as clearly to the broader themes of voluntarism, religious tolerance, insider/outsider status, and the ironies of “religious freedom.”

Overall, I think the exercises I used to navigate the students through the pre-war religious marketplace were good, although some were better than others. I relied a great deal on Butler, et al’s Religion in American Life to fill in the blanks, which I might supplement next time around with more direct instruction. In turn, I wonder if some of the debates helped clarify particular matters for students or prevented them from deeper understanding since they were depending on one another’s understanding of the readings instead of my direction. All in all, I don’t think they misunderstood the importance of some of the era’s major themes and, as far as I could tell from their essays and comments, they certainly “got” that there was certainly a lot of considerations and conflicts that you have to take into account when you talk about the meaning of “religious freedom.”

Next up, immigration, industrial capitalism, and fundamentalism.

Minggu, 02 Maret 2008

God's Row and America's Religious Landscape


“God’s Row” and America’s Religious Landscape
by Darren Grem


Since we’ve lately been on the topic of the nation’s contemporary religious landscape, I thought I’d broadcast an interesting article from Sunday’s NY Times. According to James Angelos, storefront churches and temples have been popping up with increasing regularity along a two-mile stretch of White Plains Road in the Bronx, changing the borough’s religious environment and possibly affecting its economic well-being. We’ve discussed religious organizations as economic entities before, but this story relates another perspective. Detractors think this area of the borough needs more than spiritual rejuvenation, arguing that the churches and temples along “God’s Row” take up real estate that could better serve the community if zoned for business. Religious leaders disagree, arguing that the economic problems in the area predated the “revival” along White Plains Road.

Regardless, the row over God’s Row hints at some of the broader social and economic ramifications – whether direct or indirect – caused by the various religious restructurings currently occurring across America. Read all about it here.

Jumat, 15 Februari 2008

Deg's Dispatches, Part IV

Dispatches from LeConte Hall 323 – Part IV
by Darren Grem

In my experience, if students know anything about American religious history, they “know” about colonial religious history. “Anything,” of course, is a relative term because much of what they know tends to be incomplete, off base, or downright mythic. As such, I think teaching colonial religious history is one of the hardest tasks of the term. How do you enliven discussions about the Puritans they’ve been hearing about since sixth grade? How do you complicate the dualism that presumes all colonists were either for “religious freedom” or for “religious intolerance?” How do you discuss how politics and religion mixed during the Revolutionary War? How do you get students – who are post-establishment to the core – to understand why certain colonists accepted certain sources of religious authority, such as the state? How do you make the First Amendment make sense, according to the logic of the 18th century?

To meet these challenges, I had the students look at how and where colonists worshipped (and didn’t), why they accepted certain members into their religious communities (and didn’t), and why they advocated colonial independence (or didn’t). I wanted them to understand that notions of religious authority informed notions of social and political authority in the 1600s and 1700s in ways completely foreign to us today. For instance, by looking at the interior and exterior of an Anglican church from low country South Carolina, they could make certain inferences about how Anglicanism supported a certain social order. By the same token, a Congregationalist church in Boston or a Baptist church in Virginia sent similar messages, albeit with different theological and religious emphases. After introducing them to questions about religious authority through this visual tour of colonial “houses of God,” we tackled the Puritans by reading a number of Puritan documents.

Of course, ideological treatises like John Winthrop’s “A Modell of Christian Charity” were examined, but I wanted them to compare such high-minded statements about Puritan society to documents that detailed how Puritans lived and worked. They were surprised to find what historians have found – that Puritans lived in a complicated and changing religious and political world. The “other witch hunt” that Richard Godbeer has detailed at Stamford revealed these complexities, but I think the students had difficulty removing themselves from accepted stereotypes of Puritans to take these complexities seriously. Despite evidence to the contrary, the mythic Puritan – continually pious, unthinkingly devoted – retained its hold, and I’m not sure that my assignments and instruction changed these impressions much. The fact that Puritans drank, danced, courted, and even consorted on occasion with “cunning folk” was missed by more than a few of my students. Of course, the Puritans were, as they rightly noted, distinctly opposed to religious infiltrators, but few considered why they were intolerant when they were. Rather, most concluded that the Puritans merely had intolerance written into their DNA.

I unfortunately caught a bad head cold for the next section, so they had to read about the middle and southern colonies on their own. We returned to questions about religious authority, however, via our study of the Revolutionary era. How did religion inform the politics of pacifism, loyalism, and revolution? I presumed that most students have heard, to some extent, about the influence of religious ideas on revolutionist supporters. As their papers on the topic showed, some of them had likewise internalized the revolutionists’ arguments (no doubt a byproduct of the very “civil religion” that the era birthed). The perspectives of religious pacifists and loyalists, however, complicated such impressions and set us up for another set of questions: How do people who believe God is on their side deal with military victory and defeat? In turn, if one’s notion of religious authority determines which side you’re on in a military conflict, how might you fiddle with such notions once the military situation turns for or against your favor? The students seemed most interested in the various negotiations that Anglicans, Mennonites, and Quakers were forced into making with the coming and going of the revolution. And, I think exposure to their accounts helped make the reading of revolutionist sermons – such as Jacob Cushing’s “Divine Judgments Upon Tyrants” – more contextualized.

At the end of these sections, I wanted students to have a firmer grasp on how and why notions of religious authority informed (or didn’t inform) life in colonial America. In turn, I wanted them to rethink how religion shaped the conflicts of the Revolutionary era and why the First Amendment both alleviated and amplified some of these religious conflicts. For the most part, I believe that my students learned from these lessons. Yet, as products of the very “religious marketplace” that the First Amendment legalized, these concepts were the most foreign to them and the most difficult for them to grasp. No less difficult, I believe, is the idea that “religious freedom” doesn’t necessarily mean full-tilt “religious tolerance,” something that we’re going to explore more fully during our sections on the religious worlds of the early Republic. More on that later…

Selasa, 22 Januari 2008

Deg's Uncoverage Course, Part III

Dispatches from LeConte Hall 323 – Part III
Darren Grem

This week we studied “Religious Encounters.” To start us off, I dropped the students into the middle of Black Robe, a film that details the fictional journey of a French Jesuit priest to a Huron mission in the 1630s. Aside from certain inaccuracies and oversimplifications, this Hollywood portrayal does a decent job of presenting both the complete and incomplete conversions that often resulted in the “middle ground” of post-contact America. Hence, I asked the students to take “field notes” of what they saw, listing the specific beliefs and practices of the Jesuit missionaries and the Algonquin, Iroquois, and Huron. Then, they had to explain why conversions did or did not take place.

Documents from Gaustad and Noll’s A Documentary History of Religion in America complicated matters further, but also, I think, offered more perspective. The tendency (honestly come by, to be sure) to see the result of religious encounters as a historical given faded for most students after reading these documents, each of which presents a more complicated – but no less disturbing – portrayal of religious encounters in New France and New Spain. Their papers on the documents showed a greater willingness to consider why religious encounters unfolded as they did, instead of merely restating their initial reactions to Black Robe, which mostly simplified those encounters into a one-way history of inevitable conquest.

After our discussion of these documents, I reiterated their conclusions via a lecture and slideshow, but also reminded students that going overboard with some of their conclusions wasn’t advisable either. Just because we noted that “religious encounters” were often unpredictable and messy didn’t make the history under study any less unsettling. We must strive, I reminded them, both to understand why religious encounters in colonial American unfolded as they did, but also why they resulted in more religious deletions than religious accommodations and adaptations. Given that our next section will deal with all sorts of religious conflicts and collusions between colonial Christianities, I stressed the point more than I initially intended, and I believe they grasped it. I suppose I’ll find out next week and down the road when they’re working on their final assignments.

This was the first “graded” week of classes, as well as the first week where students encountered the “uncoverage” pedagogy in full force. Fortunately, I was able to speak with a few students as the week went on and gather some initial impressions from them. One described the class as “interesting,” while another assured me that the pedagogy was a “refreshing” way to look at history. I had a longer discussion with another student, however, who wanted more context for the documents we studied. Her concerns were apt and well placed, and, frankly, I sympathize with them. Historians often start with documents first and use them to form conclusions about the economic, cultural, and/or political context second. But is that the best way to teach history? Admittedly, it gets students to “do history” as we do it, with all the fun and frustration thrown in. But should we grant more context up front, or let them come to their own conclusions – within appropriate limits – about that context via the “raw” history under study? That’s an issue I’m glad the student raised for me, and one that I will no doubt continue to consider.

Senin, 14 Januari 2008

Darren's UnCoverage Course, Part II


Dispatches from LeConte Hall 323 – Part II, BY DARREN GREM

The first week’s set of classes focused on two questions: 1) What is religion? and 2) How should we go about doing religious history? Since our answers to both of those questions shape how we approach America’s religious past, I thought it pertinent to begin with them.

Regarding the first question, I asked my students to list reasons for why UGA football should or shouldn’t be considered a religion. I was pleased with the results from both the morning and afternoon classes. They thought hard about the matter and presented apt reasons for both sides of the matter. UGA football, most concluded, had both qualities of a religion and of more “secular” enterprises. It didn’t have a central deity, but it certainly deified legendary running back Herschel Walker, head coach Mark Richt, Uga VI, and Larry Munson (the radio “Voice of the Dawgs” for over four decades now). It didn’t encourage “worship” of a supernatural figure or appreciation for supernatural events, but it had venerated spaces, icons, rituals, and rites of passage. Its sense of ethics was fuzzy at best (or temperamental, depending on like or dislike of particular referees, plays, coaches, etc.), but it taught what was anathema and taboo (Steve Spurrier, the Florida Gators, all things Georgia Tech).

All in all, the students seemed reluctant to call UGA football a “religion” in any definitive sense, primarily because it didn’t deal in metaphysics (what one student called “the big questions of life”) or in the supernatural, inexplicable, eternal, and divine. When I pushed my first class to reflect on how, say, a Christian or post-Enlightenment view of certain notions – like “the eternal” and “the inexplicable” – shaped their perspective on religion proper, I had to lead the class a bit more. As such, I’m not sure how well I illustrated my points about how a Huron’s or Buddhist’s definition of religion might result in a different narrative about religious history (they seemed confused), so I dropped the points for the second afternoon class, seemingly with no harm done.

Regardless, I think they enjoyed the exercise and were especially attentive when I suggested how we define “religion” shapes what we study as religious historians. Should UGA football – or sports in general – be included in a text on American religious history? Sadly, we didn’t have enough time to deal with this question as much as I would have liked, but they got it in their notes.

If the first question drew the students in, the way I taught the second one – how do we do religious history? – seemed to leave a few behind. I wanted us to focus on how historians write about the “unseen,” and I thought a provocative essay would help (Grant Wacker’s “Understanding the Past, Using the Past,” in Bruce Kuklick and D. G. Hart, eds., Religious Advocacy and American History, Eerdmans, 1997). The essay isn’t an easy read, but it’s an important one, providing models for writing religious history as well as suggestions on how to interpret sources, recreate historical settings, and draw moral meanings from the past. To prep for this class, the students wrote short paragraphs (ungraded) about what they envisioned the discipline of religious history to be about. They also had to take some guesses about the types of challenges historians face in the archives and afterwards. In general, they saw our jobs as a mix of the following: categorizing religions, describing the development of religions, explaining denominational splits, detailing theological conflicts, and showing how religious groups shape politics and popular culture. Most of the challenges they detailed would make any post-modernist proud. How to know if a subject actually had religious experiences? How to determine bias in documents? In the researcher’s methods? What if the documents provided don’t tell the whole story? Can any history of religion be objective? I was impressed. I never knew they carried so much existential baggage.

They were along for the ride as we worked through their results. But when we turned to Wacker’s essay, I undoubtedly lost a few of them. It didn’t help in the first class that I myself mixed up Wacker’s categorizations and suggestions (it was a light moment as we all laughed at my fumbling of the ball, but still a bit embarrassing). But more importantly, the lines between Wacker’s concerns and our own were not drawn clearly enough by either the students or, frankly, by me. The end result, I think, was a more conceptual than concrete set of conclusions about how we should and shouldn’t “do religious history.”

This week we’re going to study religious encounters in New Spain and New France, and hopefully some of the past week’s lessons carry over. I’m editing the course as we go along, and I’ve decided that, for as much as I like Wacker’s article, I’ll probably exchange it in future go-rounds for something that teaches the interests and challenges of the field in more direct ways (making sense of religion in this election season, perhaps?) For now, however, I was pleased with the first week’s set of classes. Despite some bumps and bruises here and there, I think we made our way through a conceptual forest that has lost a few students – and even a few of us – along the way.