Resources

Site visits provide an irreplaceable learning experience to students in both religious studies and the emerging field of interfaith studies. The conceptual core of this thesis is the claim, drawn from feminist epistemology, that an embodied pedagogy – a pedagogy which engages students not only intellectually, but as embodied beings who inhabit a space, engage in physical activities, and undergo various sensory experiences – is ultimately more enriching than a pedagogy centered exclusively in the classroom. Factors that make a site visit a successful instance of embodied pedagogy include the provision of sufficient context to students in advance for them to understand and appreciate the experience, an opportunity afterward to reflect on this experience in an intentional way, ensuring the site and the community whose space it is are treated with proper respect, and ensuring that the religious sensibilities of one's students are also similarly respected.

In our ostensibly secular age, discussing the real-world contexts and impacts of religious traditions in the classroom can be difficult. Religious traditions may appear at different times to different students as too irrelevant, too personal, or too inflammatory to allow them to engage openly with the materials, the issues, and each other. In this “Design & Analysis” article Aaron Ricker describes an attempt to address this awkward pedagogical situation with an experiment in role-play enacted on the model of a mock conference. This description is followed by four short responses by authors who have experimented with this form of pedagogy themselves. In “Conplay,” students dramatize the wildly varying and often conflicting approaches to biblical tradition they have been reading about and discussing in class. They bring the believers, doubters, artists, and critics they have been studying into the room, to interact face-to-face with each other and the class. In Ricker's experience, this playful and collaborative event involves just the right amount of risk to allow high levels of engagement and retention, and it allows a wide range of voices to be heard in an immediate and very human register. Ricker finds Conplay to be very effective, and well worth any perceived risks when it comes to inviting students to take the reins.

This paper introduces Rewritten Scripture and scriptural rewriting as a creative process that, when mirrored in a teaching exercise, may serve as an effective practice in teaching sacred texts. Observing changes made between scripture and its rewriting may allow readers to identify different contexts among these texts. Furthermore, the act of rewriting scripture mirrors descriptions of creativity, which itself is argued to be the highest level of cognitive operation in learning. Therefore, the paper shows how scriptural rewriting can be simultaneously the object of the lesson and the method of learning through a two-step teaching process, using an example of scriptural rewriting in a Dead Sea Scroll. The first step offers a way to understand the meaning of Rewritten Scripture and what exegetes can learn from it, while the second step engages creativity by practicing rewriting scripture itself.

One of the most illuminating finds in Barbara E. Walvoord's Teaching and Learning in College Introductory Religion Courses (2008) is what she calls “the great divide,” a mismatch between instructors’ goals for their courses, which are academic, and the students’ reasons for taking them, which relate to their personal interests and development. Motivation – or, rather, the lack thereof – is not explicitly considered as a potential victim of this mismatch. This article will turn its attention squarely to this issue. First, I will review data about the “great divide” and link them to the common practice of asking our students to bracket the personal when they take our courses. The article will juxtapose this practice with what research tell us about motivation, which will allow us to further explore why the divide Walvoord and others have identified is so problematic. The article will conclude with pedagogical strategies that can help instructors intentionally influence motivation in religion courses. Ultimately, I suggest that we may be doing students – as well as ourselves, as the purveyors of our discipline – a disservice, if we do not attend to (or, worse, if we actively avoid) what we know motivates students to learn.

This article explores the disconnection between ethical theory and ethical practice in ethics courses at secular U.S. colleges and universities. In such contexts academic ethics focuses almost exclusively on “ethical reasoning” and leaves the business of practical moral formation of students in the realm of “student life.” I argue this disconnection is inevitable given the dominant understanding that moral formation must be guided by a consistent ethical theory, and must eventuate in certain prosocial behaviors, while norms of pluralism and free inquiry mandate that academic courses not attempt to dictate certain views or behaviors as normative. Drawing on the Confucian model of moral cultivation expressed by the early Chinese figure Mengzi, I argue for a different understanding of moral formation that focuses on open-endedness, self-direction, and the acquisition of skills in directing attention and will. This approach avoids the most serious challenges to practical moral formation in secular contexts, and I suggest some broadly applicable principles for implementing these ideas in ethics courses.

The field of biblical studies lends itself well to decentered online learning – a kind that uses active learning to engage primary texts and their interpretations. Not only does such an approach work well in online and hybrid formats, it more readily welcomes readings that are more contextual, constructive, and collaborative. Three aspects best characterize a decentered approach to active learning online: an orientation toward primary texts, collaborative inquiry, and enhanced learner initiative. This essay describes the significance of each in turn, along with naming some best practices. I argue that this approach not only shifts focus toward learners and the learning environment, it works particularly well for teaching Bible courses online and in hybrid formats where interpretation of primary sources is the fundamental goal.

This article focuses on Reflective Structured Dialogue as a set of practices developed in the context of conflict resolution that are well suited to handling quotidian uneasiness and extraordinary moments of disruption in religious studies classrooms. After introducing Reflective Structured Dialogue's history, goals, and general practices, the authors consider its uses in classroom settings. They argue that a classroom in which teachers understand themselves as facilitators, and in which students are experienced in structured dialogue practices – including being comfortable in a state of intellectual “wobble” – is one more apt to be able to engage with, and more likely to benefit from, disruptive events.

A panel at the 2016 American Academy of Religion conference staged, taped, transcribed, and edited this conversation about the challenges and opportunities of teaching in a “nano department” – an undergraduate religion or religious studies department (or combined religion and philosophy department) with only one, two, or three faculty members. Two things quickly become evident: one is the impossibility of coverage of the full religious studies curriculum, and the other is the necessity for collaboration with other departments. Neither of these is unique to nano departments, but there exists an intimacy between students and faculty in small departments, a necessary freedom to rethink the place of the study of religion in the liberal arts curriculum, and a disruptive value in what can be critiqued and contributed from a marginalized position. Arguably, nano departments are the canaries in the academic coal mine, charting the future of the humanities that cannot be discerned from the vantage point of Research-1 contexts.

An extended metaphor for teaching. This essay draws out the useful parallels between the best kind of teacher and the Good Witch of the North, Glinda, from The Wizard of Oz. Unappealing to many viewers or readers of the classic children's story, Glinda offers an inspiring reminder of four important pedagogical points: (1) the master teacher always treats her student as a peer; (2) the master teacher acknowledges and encourages her student's abilities but lets her learn how to exercise them on her own; (3) the master teacher is often not equivalent or even similar to anyone the student has encountered before; and (4) the master teacher is not a surrogate parent but a more distant figure.

This article reports on a practitioner action research project focused on developing, trialing, and reflecting upon a continuous and formative-assessment plan for a foundational New Testament survey course. Three pedagogical convictions are discussed and drive the design of the assessment. Seven to nine assessment items (depending on level of study) based on course learning outcomes and informed by Bloom's taxonomy of learning, were developed and implemented. Students provided feedback on the assessment through an anonymous online survey. The results demonstrate that students preferred continuous assessment to an exam and major essay, and that they better achieved the course learning outcomes. In conclusion, this style of assessment is effective in driving and assessing student learning and so provides a basis for further action reflection.