Let’s start with Maureen’s theme for our time together: “Where Do We Stand, How Do We Dance? Religious Education and Theology in Relationship”
Suppose we engage our theme in a mood of playful curiosity.
“Where do we stand?” A good first question - but in order to dance, don’t we have to move from where we stand?
“We” implies “plural” - which makes dancing possible, yet one can dance alone. Indeed, in American culture, individuality is often assumed - each must do “their own thing.” Similarly, much Christian thinking insists that response to God is a highly individual matter. What does that do to “relationship”?
I am curious: How do people become a “we”? Do we, can we, assume that because there is more than one of us, that we are a “we”? What makes up a “we’? Is that an issue defined or shaped by theology and/or by education? Or might it be necessary to begin by acknowledging that theology and religious education are each necessarily already a “we’? Both theology and education exist as centuries long traditions of practices (plural) which have shaped our present consciousness. Can those traditions dance? Do they inhibit or do they enable our dancing today?
Yet, “we” individually and collectively may “stand” in quite a variety of different places, religiously, educationally, and theologically - which would imply that there is no one way to answer the question - let alone a single right answer.
In fact, where we “stand” (which assumes a static posture) might be much less important since what is envisioned here is that we might want to dance. How do we do that? What kind of dancing is possible? Is this a square dance? A fox trot? A break dance or a line dance? (Has “Dancing with the Stars” widened our awareness of the variety of dance forms available for consideration?)
Is it assumed that “theology” should make normative judgments about what kind of dancing is appropriate if the education is to be “religious”? Might John Calvin, Karl Rahner, James Cone and Kathryn Tanner recommend different dances?
I am also curious about who are to be the partners in this dance: theology and religious education. Apparently “education” is not singular, for it is modified - implying there are many kinds of education, yet we are to dance with the one that is “religious.” Or is that not also plural? (I’m even curious about what work this adjective “religious” does in this term. Are “math education” or “vocational education” not “religious”? I once had a neighbor who worked on his automobile more religiously than other neighbors worked on their religion.)
This dual term itself is problematic: If “education” is the noun, and the adjective “religious” modifies that noun, how or in what way is “education” modified by “religious”?
If theology is standing there waiting for a partner - how will theology know if the education that shows up is really “religious”? What if education wants do the Charleston and theology wants to square dance? Which raises another question: Does someone (who?) “lead” and another “follow”? If so, who?
I am curious: to what music shall we dance? Who decides that? Or do we leave that up to the musicians? (Personally, I hope we are not assuming the music will be limited to “golden oldie” hymns!)
So how are we to understand the “dance” between theology and religious education? (I will not address the matter of “practical theology” since any theology that is not practical is not theology - at least in a Christian, Jewish or Muslim context.)
I’m curious about what Wimberly might say: If narrativity is one form of dance, what kind is it - a line dance that moves from beginning to end? Or could a narrative only go in circles?
I look forward to help from you with my many questions - can you help relieve the “itch” of my curiosities?
Peace, Chuck
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When we dance with a partner, both participate fully. The whole body of each is engaged in the movement and rhythm. Following this analogy, neither theology nor religious education will be normative. Instead the whole of each is engaged and each influences the other. The partnership of dance is mutual.
ReplyDeleteMargaret Ann, do you mean your comments to be descriptive or prescriptive? As I watch dancers, it seems to me not always true that the "whole body of each is engaged..." nor does the partnership seem fully mutual. Sometimes it appears one of the partners is either reluctant to fully engage, or perhaps feels that they can't or won't use their "whole body" - Could that also sometimes be the case with the influences of theology and education on each other? Actually, I think I've seen that happen... perhaps you have as well?
ReplyDeleteChuck and Margaret Ann,
ReplyDeleteAnd, of course, a lot depends on "where" the dance takes place--does one do the rumba the same way in the US as in Britain or Tanzania or Korea? I often find our differing understandings of what constitutes "religious education" across country and cultural lines makes the dance awkward.
On another point, Chuck, you commented:
(I will not address the matter of “practical theology” since any theology that is not practical is not theology - at least in a Christian, Jewish or Muslim context.)
I certainly agree, but could the issue of whether both partners—theology and religious education—participate equally in the dance be due, to some extent, to how the RE partner understands the theology partner? If an educator does not share your assumption that all theology is practical, might he/she be reluctant to bring theology into full partnership?
Maureen
P.S. In reading the comments in Gabriel Moran's thread, especially those by Jack Seymour, Bert Roebben and Gabe, I'm struck by the implication that religious education itself needs to have many partners for the dance, especially interfaith and intercultural ones. Theology would seem to become one partner among potentially many--so does the dance change, then, from one-to-one partnering to something more collective? More of a circle dance?
ReplyDeleteI love the metaphor of the dance and of dancing. It can help us name current perceptions and imagine new realities. For me, it is prompting reflections on the recent dance at the Episcopal Divinity School which our new President and Dean hosted as part of her Installation Celebration. Knowing the drummer from the parish she served as Rector, our P&D invited a gifted 7 member band to play on campus. This told us a lot about her, as well as providing a great community-building opportunity for the campus which was filled with alumni, board members, faculty, staff, residential and commuter students, bishops, representatives from the Boston Theological Institute, and other local dignitaries.
ReplyDeleteBeantown was the name of the group and their musical repertoire was expansive (fast/slow, pop, Motown, jazz, reggae, etc) giving access to those present who ranged from dance-challenged to expert dancers. The lead singers, a man and a woman, were particularly skilled at working the crowd to invite our participation. I especially enjoyed watching the dance floor - noticing the ebb and flow of movement there.
Sometimes the dance floor was packed and other times more sparsely populated. Sometimes committed partners danced together, sometimes they danced with someone else, sometimes they danced alone, and sometimes they stood or sat at the tables surrounding the dance area to watch. Sometimes dancers held each other close and sometimes they barely touched. Some of the dances were freeform while others were obviously choreographed, like a line dance, and had leaders immerge from the crowd to help those unfamiliar with the moves join in. Regardless of state or status, for this brief time, we were all united by a joyful energy.
As I ponder the correlations between theology, religion, education, and dancing, I am struck by the power of such diversity. What united us was a space that offered both comfort in what was familiar and challenge to explore unfamiliar forms. We were welcomed as we were and invited to expand our horizons. There was also a process – managed by the band – to move us through the evening. Despite the reality that time was structured by the band’s play list and breaks, there was freedom and many moved about the space to engage in dance, conversation, or simply sit and relish what was happening around us.
All to often it seems one form of music or dance is privileged, discounting the value and contributions of others. I wonder what our churches would look like if we consciously set up our interactions like this dance so that there was some familiarity and structure while also encouraging more exploration into less familiar practices… trusting it was good….