I will accept the challenge of chronicling my take on the integration of faith and learning. The process begins with faith and living, and did for me as a teenager in Richardson, Texas. I had become a committed follower of Jesus and I had to learn what it meant to be a believer and student. The early stages for me were immersed in a legalistic regimen of “do’s” (go to church, have a quiet time, etc), and “don’ts” (don’t drink, don’t do drugs, and avoid all things sexual). A strength of legalism is that it does not require deep thinking. One simply refers to their list to see which category a particular behavior falls under. This phase lasted me through college. When I got to seminary, I made new friends who were more into license than legalism, and as such, were happy to drink and party and still manage to love Jesus with a clear conscience. My personal pendulum of living and learning swung their way, for a short while. Granted, it was fun, but not spiritually satisfying. I married two years after seminary, and even as we started dating, I could tell that I had left my new friends’ freedom, and had moved back toward a broader, central place between the two extremes.
After our marriage, Diana and I started going to the University of North Texas together. She finished a Master’s Degree, and I started a Ph.D. in sociology. I think of this short (11 year!!) period as the time that I got the “unintended consequences” education (a sociological theory by Merton). I was studying sociology, which was new to me, but I was also learning about technology (post punch card, pre- PC and email when I started). Suddenly, I was taking classes with “those” people (gays, Lesbians, feminists, liberals, atheists, Democrats, etc) that I had never been around and was taught to fear and avoid in my previously conservative education. Again, I was faced with the integration of faith and learning and being a Christian in front of people who were openly hostile towards all conservatives, but especially evangelicals. I now believe melding faith and learning is a lifelong pursuit. The scenery may change, but we are called to live our faith out loud.
For instance, I was teaching my Sociological Theory class last Spring about Mead’s theory of the generalized other. Simply stated, we base much of our decision-making on what other people think we should do. As an example, I showed a photo of my car, a 2004 Nissan Pathfinder with 224,000 miles on the odometer. The theory suggests that we buy cars based on what our peers think is appropriate for us to drive. Next, I showed a picture of a Toyota FJ Cruiser. I asked the class if I could buy this vehicle. They assured me it would be fine. I then showed them a picture of a VW Beetle Convertible, which was turquoise green. It is my dream car, but they said they would never “allow” me to buy such a car. (peer pressure at my age?) I then confessed that I was actually happy with the Pathfinder because it was the way God was blessing me right now…no payments, virtually trouble- free, and when things have gone wrong, I was able to fix it myself. I think our meta-story comes through to the students as we teach, so I try to be very deliberate and show God as the foundation of my story.