Around these parts we muse on matters catechetical and scholarly, and the engagement between the two.
As a high school teacher, like most high school teachers of any subject, I was constantly unimpressed by the materials from which I had to teach, even when I chose them. The fact is, at the time I was teaching (I left teaching to write full time in…let’s see…1997, I think. So it’s been a while and my authority to speak on such things is considerably diminished.), the religious ed textbook scene was a sorry one, indeed. (It’s getting a bit better, but only a bit. The bishops have stepped in, some publishers have responded by stepping out, interestingly enough, and there are materials with a bit more substance available – believe me, I do the rounds at the trade shows, just to keep myself informed).
But that’s really not the point of this post. One of the big questions for both youth and adult catechesis over the past decades has been…how much should contemporary scholarship, particularly theological and Scriptural scholarship, be integrated into catechetical (and in this we can include preaching) efforts?
The basic assumption has been that we’re adults…or working towards adulthood, scholars are doing and writing all kinds of interesting, engaging things as they seek to engage with new discoveries, insights, and modern paradigms. So why not incorporate all of that?
There are arguments for and against, but the most powerful argument for caution is simply: Times change.
And note, I say, "caution." That’s different from "not doing it."
Let’s get specific. For decades, most high school Scripture courses have begun by teaching some standard historical-critical method and form criticism. Old Testament courses always begin with an explanation and application of the Documentary Hypothesis – the theory that there are 4 primary strains of authorship running through the Pentateuch (and evident elsewhere, particularly in the historical books) – JEPD, for short.
New Testament courses always begin with discussions of who wrote the Gospels, what their audience was, and…Q.
So what’s the problem?
The problem, in my mind, is that these theories are just that – theories, and they are not undisputed in the scholarly community. Further, they don’t contribute anything to a deeper spiritual encounter with God through Scripture. This isn’t the same as, say, understanding the historical context of 1st century Galilee in order to better grasp the questions about Jesus as a person hailing from Nazareth, or the context of 1st century agricultural life in order to dive more deeply into Jesus’ parables. Or, for that matter, taking note of the clear distinctions and jumps in the Creation narratives, pondering that and grappling with where these two accounts come from and what they mean in context. And so on.
No…I’m talking only about a catechetical pedagogy which, right off the bat, asks young people to look at the Scriptures as the product of redactors and asking them to rest their initial intepretations on why those redactors did what they did and how. Kids. Who hardly read the Bible at all, in whose lives the Scriptures play absolutely no role. Even adults – who, if we’re talking Catholics sitting in Church listening to a homily in which the focus is, say why Matthew’s "Sermon on the Mount" is different from Luke’s "Sermon on the Plain" and what each evangelist was trying to do through the composition of each.
It works to distance us from the text, not, as the assumption has been, to draw us more deeply.
Case in point: Q.
All of us know about Q – the source that Matthew and Luke supposedly had that Mark did not. There’s not a high school intro to New Testament around that doesn’t highlight Q. And honestly, what’s the harm? It’s just a potential source, which seems fine. Matthew and Luke had sources…why not bring Q into the mix?
Perhaps because its existence is theoretical and there are strong arguments against it? Mark Goodacre had a recent post on this on his NT Gateway blog , which leads us to the webpage dedicated to his work on the subject: "The Case Against Q" – you might start with his Top Ten reasons to question Q. His is a minority opinion, to be sure, but it’s out there, and if you read even a little bit of New Testament scholarship you will see other assumptions being called into question, even those about the audience various evangelists were writing for and so on. Matters which are all in chapter 1 of the emblematic Intro to Scripture HS text, on which we all very happily tested away.
The question is not the validity of the scholarship, but the pedagogy for young people and unformed adults that puts scholarly theories, which are adapted, change and debunked, and which function to distance the already-prone-to-be skeptical young person – at the front and center of Scriptural catechesis.
And you have to ask…has it worked?
Update:
Just to clarify, I use "Q" as the center of this post, not because it lacks explanatory power for the new Scripture student, but because it’s simply an example of a theory that’s put front and center of Scriptural catechesis as much more than a theory, but has interesting and powerful arguments against it. My point is that presenting it as a crucial first stage in "understanding the Gospels" for 1oth graders contributes to them profoundly missing the point.
Cathy raises the excellent point of, well then how do explain the differences when the students encounter them? She uses the infancy narratives as an example.
The hope is not to ignore the differences or engage in labored harmonization exercises, but to deal with a range of possibilities. The problem is that in the current catechetical climate, the fruit of what most young people and your average Catholic adult hear (their primary catechesis being homily time) is: "Matthew and Luke made up different infancy narratives to fit in the rest of their thematic take on Jesus’ life and ministry."
Is that really the only possible explanation? No. But it’s basically all we get down here on the ground nowadays.
And I’d point you to reader and Protestant pastor Jeff’s comments – they’re spot on.