Before the semester began, I heard rumors about my theology class. Past students assured me the class would be difficult. “There’s so much reading,” they moaned. Some students mourned the harm done to their GPA before taking the class. But despite all the warnings, everyone said the class was worth it. So I felt timid, but intrigued.
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And the rumors were true. The reading load was dense and sometimes each page I read felt like a victory. But the real battle was the classroom itself. Each student had to read the material, bring one question about the reading, and prepare to argue. If you don’t like the sound of that setup, you might think you could fade into the background or avoid the arguments entirely. You would be wrong.
My professor knew how to get the class talking by pushing the right buttons. I’m not saying he badgered students, but he made sure we spoke to each other. He set up the chairs in a circle, so we had to argue face-to-face. He rarely left a comment without scanning the room for disagreement. “So everyone agrees with what Mitch just said? Really?” After that comment, the conversation would heat up. More times than not, arguments were the driving force of the class. My professor guided us, so that we didn’t chase too many rabbits. But he made sure people didn’t get away with fluff.
At this point, you’re thinking, “Don’t we argue enough already? Why would ministers to spend valuable time at seminary arguing with each other?” Yes, I agree: humans are argumentative animals. And yes, it’s possible there has been a recent uptick in our argumentative spirit due to political divisions, social media, and anxiety about the future.
But the problem is not the quantity, but the quality of our arguments. We don’t argue well, and in my experience, the church is not setting a great example. We’re passive aggressive. We write books in response to other books without naming the author we’re criticizing. We’re uncharitable, arguing with caricatures of a position as if that made us smart. We’re disrespectful. We resort to bashing someone’s character as soon as we think our position is losing ground. We assume the worst in the other person. We know what she’s really trying to argue. We have our shtick of eye rolling and sighing. “Isn’t it obvious how wrong he is?”
Arguing in a systematic theology class taught me a better way. I’m still learning, but the class gave me time to cultivate strong habits for arguments that I couldn’t have without it. For example, my classmates and I would argue about material we both read. This practice taught me to see how to argue with someone when they weren’t as prepared as me. And it showed me that I didn’t want to be humiliated if I was less prepared!
Another example: I had to face people with whom I disagreed. I had to make eye contact and say the words, “I disagree with you.” I had no idea how uncomfortable it would make me. This practice taught me that disagreement behind someone’s back does nothing to advance a conversation.
More than these practices, I knew that in-class arguments had no (or at least very few) personal stakes. I wouldn’t lose my job based on an argument. I wouldn’t anger some church leader or member. I could argue freely, and I knew I had that freedom because my professor ensured the freedom to argue for the rest of my classmates. In what other environment could future ministers learn how to argue?
Don’t get me wrong. I don’t mean seminaries should train ministers to win every argument in church. Ministers need to pick which theological fights to argue. A member of the church may say something crazy in a Sunday morning class and the minister might have to move on. It may not be worth it to unpack all of the craziness. But how can ministers discern which arguments to have if they weren’t trained to do so? Or worse, if they buckle at the first sign of disagreement?
So the damage done by a minister who avoids arguments is real. A minister can trap the congregation in a bait-and-switch. They’ll think the minister was on the same page with them about some subject, but now – all of a sudden! – the minister changed his or her mind. The minister had unintentionally trained people not to argue. So when arguments inevitably come up, no one at the church is trained to argue. Especially not the minister.
So, what good is a class in seminary that shies away from disagreements? Not much. Instead, seminaries should create healthy environments for arguing so that ministers take the best practices for arguments with them into the church. That way, he or she can model good argumentation while discerning which arguments he or she should have.
One bonus of a minister who can argue well: clarity. And clarity is a huge need. Lay Christians complain all the time about “intellectual” ministers. The frustration they have is a minister who shows intellect at the cost of clarity. Suppose a preacher drops a big word in a sermon: “Today we’re talking about eschatology.” A preacher who can argue can clarify. “I know you’re rolling your eyes, but ‘eschatology’ has been important to Christians for two thousand years. The word refers to the end times, specifically what God has in store for the future, for everyone and everything. So, if you’re a part of ‘everyone,’ eschatology has to do with you.” In three sentences, the preacher did not apologize for being “intellectual,” but he also maintained clarity in the process. If seminaries train ministers to argue well, they can have ministers who speak with clarity.
In my last post, I said seminaries cannot and should not train ministers for everything. But seminaries should train ministers to think on their feet – particularly with theology. For example, one time a professor asked me during a presentation, “Do human beings have free will?” I almost said back to him, “But my presentation isn’t about free will.” But, I realized what he was up to. He was making me answer something I hadn’t prepared to answer. You know, just like people who go to church. Because not only should ministers be able to argue well, they need to argue well without prep time. What better place to learn these skills than a seminary?