Presentation Abstracts

2016 Baylor Symposium on Faith and Culture
Thursday, October 27-Saturday, October 29
Panel Presentations

Jim Mello, Franciscan University of Steubenville
Cory Maloney, Franciscan University of Steubenville
Daniel Miles, Franciscan University of Steubenville

Paul Gutacker, Baylor University
Elizabeth Travers, Baylor University
Cody Strecker, Baylor University
Nicholas Krause, Baylor University
Panel Moderator: David I. Smith, Calvin College

Brian Gregor, California State University-Dominguez Hills
Jeffrey Hanson, Harvard University-Institute for Quantitative Social Science
James Taylor, Loyola Marymount University

The ancient Greek conception of "higher learning" is best expressed in the rich idea of /paideia/, which denotes the culture or formation of the student as a true human being. This model of education has been increasingly eclipsed by a vision of education as the mere transmission of information and theoretical knowledge. Yet this ancient model of paideia has never been fully lost. The papers in this panel will examine the efforts of recent philosophers-particularly Kierkegaard, Gadamer, and Hadot-to recover elements of the Greek model of education as existential and ethical formation.
Catching Up with Yourself: A Kierkegaardian Theory of Education
In Kierkegaard's Fear and Trembling, the pseudonymous author Johannes de Silentio asserts that spiritually speaking each individual is not helped by the accumulated wisdom of the past, but that despite the apparent "progress" of past generations we must each "start over" from the beginning. "What then is education?" asks Silentio. "I had thought it was the curriculum the individual ran through in order to catch up with himself; and anyone who does not want to go through this curriculum will be little helped by being born into the most enlightened age." Silentio does not develop this thought further, but with the help of Vigilius Haufniensis, the pseudonymous author of The Concept of Anxiety (which Kierkegaard was writing concurrently with Fear and Trembling) we can flesh out a Kierkegaardian theory of education. According to that theory, each individual catches up with him- or herself not on account of the content of their curriculum but by education in "possibility." While it is true that every individual is a beginner in the world of spirit, succeeding generations do make spiritual advances by accumulating quantitative consciousness of possibilities for human action, though this accumulation does not mitigate the imperative that each individual make his or her own qualitative leap of choice.
Higher (Un)Learning as a Contest between Truth and Knowledge
These days we hear that we are swimming in knowledge but lacking wisdom. Although expressed in souvenir shop slogans, this sentiment points to a common frustration: why hasn't our vast knowledge also provided us with some sense of who we are and what we're here to do? I suggest that the modern focus on acquiring knowledge-on possessing it, mastering it, even using it for good purposes-contributes to a general ignorance about more fundamental matters like who we are and how we might live. To make my case, I distinguish between two forms of experiencing the world and encountering truth: one (Erlebnis) that asks about facts and collects knowledge, and another (Erfahrung) that questions the fundamental framework that organizes our ways of encountering objects in the world. Following Martin Heidegger and Hans-Georg Gadamer, I claim that in the modern age, Erlebnis has not only become our primary manner of knowing the world, but that this primacy serves as a means of avoiding a deeper encounter with the truth of who we are. I appeal to Socrates as one who refused to let knowledge prohibit him from encountering the truth, and I propose that Erfahrung is essential to higher learning in the 21st Century.
Philosophical Paideia and Askesis in the Contemporary University
For the ancient Greeks and Romans, philosophy was not merely a scholarly venture, but a way of life, an art of living, a model of paideia involving specific practices of askesis, or spiritual exercise. Is it possible to retrieve this model of philosophical formation in the contemporary academy? I am especially interested in what this might look like in the context of a secular state school, in contrast to the explicitly sectarian schools of the ancients. It is no longer possible to promote a specific way of life (like Stoicism or Epicureanism) in the classroom, which is the site of debate between competing philosophies of life, as well as conflicting visions regarding the aims of higher learning itself. This does not, however mean that philosophical education must give up on the practice of /paideia/. It is still possible to implement formative exercises, such as reading, cultivating attention, and curating hypomnemata. I will discuss my own use of such exercises in my freshman seminar, "Philosophy as a Way of Life." The aim of this philosophical education is not a regimented, comprehensive system of paideia, but to open the possibility of philosophical life, and to introduce the sort of exercises and habits that can actualize this philosophical formation.

Lyn Prater, Baylor University Louise Herrington School of Nursing
Shelby Garner, Baylor University Louise Herrington School of Nursing
Cheryl Riley, Baylor University Louise Herrington School of Nursing
Lori Spies, Baylor University Louise Herrington School of Nursing

Higher Learning: Cultivating Student Travel as a Spiritual Event
Students enter university today for many reasons. Because many begin this experience as 18 or 19 year old young adults, they are developmentally open to new ideas. Their thought processes are being refined, and they come to university with many questions about who they are and what they actually believe. As a result of these converging factors, faculty are in a unique position to influence, encourage and mentor students not only in their academic courses but in extracurricular pursuits as well. This paper aims to present the philosophical connection between international travel and spirituality and to propose how universities can cultivate a richer conception and practice of teaching and learning, particularly in the disciplines of the helping professions. Through understanding the spiritual attributes of international travel, faculty can foster students' ability to develop spiritual intelligence, build trans-cultural skills and learn cultural humility. The philosophical connection between elements of travel and elements of spirituality is especially important as we teach students within the context of a faith-based University.
There is a long-standing tradition of global pilgrimage; from treks to Lourdes or Machu Pichu for soul enriching experiences to other sites such as famous museums or ruins (Scriven, 2014; Warfield, Baker, & Fox, 2014; Cousineau, 2012). Many of these journeys are motivated by faith and it is not always the destination but also the journey that is of significance. Spiritual attributes of travel are linked to the desire for personal transformation that can happen when one steps outside the routine of daily life, becomes ensconced in another place and is able to view life from a different perspective. Experiencing diverse cultures so unlike our own provides opportunities to respond to the universal sameness we share as humans (Paulsell, 2014).
As faculty, we desire to bring our students alongside us as we live out our passion and profess the tenets of our disciplines. By traveling with our students, either on study abroad, service learning projects, mission trips or field trips, we can help them sort out their experiences and work through the disparities that may exist between students' self-perceptions and actual cultural humility. In this way, travel with our students can be a time of spiritual transformation for both student and faculty member alike.

Students of the University of Mary Hardin-Baylor
Chair-Brent Gibson, University of Mary Hardin-Baylor

Why Read Literature? The Study of Literature and Higher Education

David S. Cunningham, Professor of Religion at Hope College and Director of the Scholarly Resources Project of the Network for Vocation in Undergraduate Education

William T. Cavanaugh, Professor of Catholic Studies and Senior Research Professor, Center for World Catholicism and Intercultural Theology, DePaul University
Douglas V. Henry, Associate Professor of Philosophy, Baylor University
Hannah Schell, Professor of Religious Studies, Monmouth College
In recent years, conversations about “higher learning” have taken on an urgent tone. The discussion ranges not only across the usual issues (concerning cost, access, privilege, and diversity), but is probing into deeper, more philosophical questions: What is the purpose of higher education? Are colleges and universities the appropriate vehicles for the development of a well-functioning adult population? Should these institutions even continue to exist in their present form?
Despite the deep and longstanding cultural disagreements about the purposes of higher learning, many commentators agree that, at a minimum, students should be allowed, encouraged, and sometimes even forced to think about their futures. This may focus primarily on the world of work, but concerns about employment are hardly exhaustive of what students face as they look five, ten, or twenty years down the road. During that time, they will encounter a panoply of opportunities, obstacles, and questions: where and with whom they will live; how they will engage with civic, philanthropic, and religious institutions; how they will be affected by increasing globalization; and how they will navigate a future that, in some ways, cannot even yet be imagined. And their puzzlements in facing the future are intensified by the fact that they are still in the process of trying to understand themselves—that is, to determine what sort of persons they are, and who they will become.
Historically, colleges and universities sought to create a certain amount of relatively unfettered time, as well as a “free and ordered space,” that are necessary for thoughtful and reflective consideration of one’s future and one’s own character in relation to that future. Such reflective consideration has traditionally been described as the exploration and discernment of one’s vocation, which is to say, one’s calling in life. These words draw our attention to two important networks of concern (and to the interface between them). The first of these is the specific range of characteristics—personality traits, talents, abilities, judgments, and general approach to life—that is particular to each human being. But vocational discernment also requires an exploration of the world into which one has been “thrown”—and not just in its present state, but also the world of the future.
This panel comprises authors who contributed to a recently published a collection of essays advocating vocational exploration and discernment as an important aspect of higher learning today. This book, At This Time and In This Place: Vocation and Higher Education (Oxford University Press, 2016), explores the specifically theological contours of vocation, as well as its applicability in more secular settings. Professor Cavanaugh will focus on the way that vocation disrupts and reorients the “culture of choice” in which our students live, providing them with some relief from the deleterious effects of being overwhelmed by every decision they make. Professor Henry will discuss the importance of framing narratives, both for higher education generally and for individual students, as they discern their own vocations within those larger stories. Professor Schell will describe the importance of the language of virtue, which helps to provide a moral shape and structure for the work of vocational reflection and discernment. Professor Cunningham will conclude the panel’s discussion with a brief description of the theological tensions that may be created by the language of vocation. He will also briefly describe a second volume on this topic, also published by Oxford, which will appear this winter as Vocation across the Academy: A New Vocabulary for Higher Education. This book will focus on the applicability of the language of calling and vocation across a range of academic disciplines and applied fields—suggesting that, given its capacious, dynamic, and elastic qualities, this language has the potential to bring these diverse fields of study into deeper and more productive conversation with one another. He will also provide a few indications of what readers can expect in a third volume (the writing of which is now underway), which will focus on vocational discernment in multi-faith contexts.

Rick Ostrander, Council for Christian Colleges & Universities
Rod Dreher, American Conservative
Matthew Bonzo, Cornerstone University
Trisha Posey, John Brown University

"Engaging the culture” is a mantra at Christian colleges and universities in the U.S. Many of these institutions have mission statements that speak of preparing students to engage, influence, impact, change, or transform culture. Indeed, preparing leaders to influence today’s culture is the raison d’etre for many Christian universities. Such a commitment reflects the popularity in recent decades of a Kuyperian approach to cultural transformation among American Christian educators.
In light of the increasingly secular nature of mainstream American culture, however, signs suggest that many American Christians are moving away from a cultural engagement model. James Davison Hunter signaled such a shift a few years ago when he argued that Christians should exercise a “faithful presence” rather than trying to change the world. More recently, Christianity Today editor Andy Crouch, in a July/August 2016 editorial entitled the “Stop Engaging the Culture, Because It Doesn’t Exist” suggested that the way forward for Christians in today’s fragmented culture is to focus on “loving your neighbor” in particular communities rather than engaging culture in general. In the same issue, Australian pastor Mark Sayers argued that “resilience” in faithful Christian communities, not cultural relevance, should be the goal for Christians today.
These various threads of critique can be summarized in what author Rod Dreher calls the “Benedict Option.” To cite Alasdair MacIntire in After Virtue, “What matters at this stage is the construction of local forms of community within which civility and the intellectual and moral life can be sustained through the new dark ages which are already upon us.” Just as St. Benedict led Christians living amid a collapsing Roman empire to form disciplined, separate communities that reinforced a particular way of life, so Christians face a similar task today. Writes Dreher, “forming Christians who live out Christianity according to the Great Tradition requires embedding within communities and institutions dedicated to that formation.”
If Dreher and others are correct, then the Benedict Option has profound implications for Christian institutions that claim to be committed to cultural engagement. Our session, therefore, will evaluate the Benedict Option and explore its implications for faith-based higher education. Is the primary task of Christian universities preparing students to go out and change the world, or to form resilient communities? If it’s the latter, how would our educational practices be different? Is a turn inward a good thing for Christian universities, or is this simply a return to the fundamentalist separatism of the mid-20th century? These are some of the significant questions that our session will explore.

Joe Creech, Valparaiso University
Jane Rodeheffer, Pepperdine University
Mark Schwehn, Valparaiso University
Chair—Peter Kanelos, Valparaiso University

The Lilly Fellows Program in Humanities and the Arts and the Current Landscape of Church-Related Higher Education
This session will stimulate answers to the question: how should Christian theology and practice inform the aims of higher education in light of contemporary challenges. Three panelists and one convener/respondent will draw on their experiences in the Lilly Fellows Program in Humanities and the Arts (LFP) to assess the recent and contemporary state of church-related higher learning, draw on Christian thought and practice to articulate particular contemporary visions for higher learning, and discuss how the LFP fellowship programs, in particular, offer models for connecting Christian mission to the aims of higher learning on church-related campuses.

Kevin Ryan, Boston University
Dan Guernsey, Ave Maria University
Jane Robbins,American Principles Project
Anthony Esolen, Providence College

Rendering unto Caesar: How Common Core Undermines Catholic Education
In recent years, the majority of the nation’s public schools have adopted an educational innovation called the Common Core. This effort to nationalize the standards of close to 100,000 public schools across the nation began in Washington, D.C. in 2008. Consultants hand-picked by private trade associations and foundations created a set of English language arts and mathematics standards designed, supposedly, for superior college and career preparation. These standards were then pushed onto the states as part of a competitive grants program sponsored by the U.S. Department of Education. The stated purpose behind this national effort has been to establish uniform and rigorous educational standards throughout fifty states. Many Catholic elementary and high schools have adopted or adapted these standards. This paper takes a critical look at the issues and principles behind the Common Core movement and, in particular, their effect on and suitability for Catholic schools.
The paper opens in Part I with a chronology of the relationship between the Common Core and Catholic schools. The National Catholic Education Association (NCEA), which claims to represent the nation’s Catholic schools, very early on urged Catholic schools to get on board with the Common Core lest they miss out on this promising change in American education or possibly fall behind the public schools. Although many followed their advice, voices of concern within the Catholic community began to speak up. In 2013, a group of 132 Catholic scholars sent a letter to the American bishops warning against adopting the Common Core, asserting that to do so would be detrimental to the mission of Catholic schools. Since then, the opposition to the Common Core, both in religious and public-school circles, has only grown.
Having explored how Catholic schools have arrived at where they are today with the Common Core, and before addressing the academic and moral insufficiency of the Common Core for Catholic schools, the paper, in Part II, addresses pragmatic concerns related to secular pressures that have led some Catholic educators to support the Common Core. Eight of the most common arguments for adopting the Common Core are presented and then refuted. The eight arguments are as follows: The Common Core standards are high-quality, and for self-preservation reasons Catholic schools must adopt them in order to stay competitive with public schools; Some states require Catholic schools to take state-derived tests, which will be based on the Common Core standards; College admission tests will be based on the Common Core standards and thereby threaten the competitive position of Catholic-school graduates; Teachers, both in their initial preparation and in-service developmental work, will be trained in the Common Core standards, and thus their training will be misaligned with the curricula of non-Common Core Catholic schools; Catholic schools need to adopt the Common Core because most textbooks and materials will be based on and derived from the Common Core standards; The criticism of the Common Core is based on political objections rather than educational principles; Catholic schools can safely adopt the Common Core by simply “infusing” Catholicism into the existing standards; Since the Common Core standards are not a curriculum and therefore will not really affect what, when, and how Catholic schools teach, there is no serious objection to their adoption.
Having dealt with such pragmatic issues, in Part III the paper shifts to a presentation of more philosophical concerns about the use of the Common Core and its effect on the goals of Catholic education. The paper focuses on three primary concerns. First, the paper reveals that the Common Core is undoubtedly and unacceptably workforce-oriented, thereby misinforming student character and impoverishing academic content. Second, the paper exposes the severe inadequacy of the Common Core’s approach to literature by drawing attention to its complete misunderstanding of the nature of man and the nature of literature in the life of man. And, third, this part of the paper exposes how the Common Core’s stunted utilitarian approach to education affects not just reading, but other disciplines as well.
In its presentation of the philosophical insufficiency of the Common Core for use in Catholic schools, this section begins with an examination of the school’s role in the formation of good character. Essentially, the mission of character education is to help students form virtues, or good habits, that lead to a well-ordered and flourishing life. Historically, character education was a primary responsibility of tax-supported schools in America, with biblical Christianity serving as an integral part of the schools’ efforts to promote character. This era is long past, and currently the public schools’ tepid efforts in character formation rest on little but an appeal to students’ self-interest. In contrast, Catholic schools typically embrace character education and rely heavily on language arts, history, and religion curricula as crucial means to educate and inspire students toward a virtuous life. Adopting the new standards may seriously compromise this essential effort.
The paper next documents how the Common Core’s initiators and architects see “workforce-development” as the proper goal of education, and how much of the standards’ political support is founded in that belief. The workforce educational model currently being promoted by the government relies heavily on the concept of training. It aims to train students in certain skills of information-processing and mathematical abilities that transfer rather directly to today’s world of work. Training consists of learning how to accomplish a task and getting “the job done.” At the heart of the Common Core agenda is a century-old dream of Progressive educators to redirect education’s mission away from engaging the young in the best of human thought and focusing instead on preparation for “real life.” While a reasonable but quite secondary goal, workforce-development is dwarfed by Catholic schools’ transcendent goals of human excellence, spiritual transformation, and preparation for “the next life” as well.
The paper next tackles this disconnect at it compares the effects of commandeering the educational experience for secular self-gain to those of celebrating education in the name of authentic human flourishing. This disconnect is perhaps most clearly seen in how a community understands and approaches the study of literature and the language arts. This section explores the soul-shaping and soul-expressing power of literature and the language arts against the Common Core’s eviscerated, one-dimensional approach of simple skills-development detached from truth, beauty, and human excellence. [KR1]
This paper next explores how the Common Core’s misunderstanding of the humanities is not limited to literature alone and threatens to dehumanize other subjects as well. Lacking a sense of what a fully alive human is, the Common Core also necessarily misunderstands all of the humanities: their power and their purpose. Even though the Common Core is primarily focused on the academic disciplines of English and mathematics, its truncated and errant view of education affects all aspects of schooling including history, science, and the arts. This section not only begins to highlight what is lacking in the Common Core, but turns proactively to the tremendous insight the Catholic intellectual tradition has always offered into the wonder, value, and glory present in all of God’s creation. Authentic academic inquiry and a fuller understanding of the human experience are completely fulfilled in the Catholic educational experience. Catholic schools have a distinct insight and a competitive advantage over public schools because of this.
Finally, in Part IV, the paper builds on the long Catholic educational tradition, including recent Church and papal writings, to present a positive foundation for moving Catholic schools forward in a post-Common Core world. In particular, the lens of the transcendent and universal attributes of truth, beauty, and goodness is suggested as a way to highlight the unique contribution of Catholic schools and distinguish them from their more limited government-school competitors. Beauty can help evoke wonder and delight, which are foundations of a life of wisdom and inquiry. Goodness teaches about the perfection of being and the enduring goals of each of us. Truth is to know reality, and proper schooling provides the tools to reason and to gain access to the true nature of reality.
The paper concludes that this attractive, unified, transcendent, and receptive approach to knowledge cannot be adequately explored or engagingly presented in a Common Core cage. The Common Core has, through its insufficiencies and lack of insight into the nature of humanity and education, shed light on the advantage and importance of Catholic education for a meaningful life in the modern world. Specifically, the paper calls for further development of curricular standards for Catholic schools to match their specific mission and their key insights into the nature of reality. Such standards should address elements of intellectual development and moral reasoning and dispositions that are a critical part of a Catholic school’s mission in every academic field. The advent of the Common Core has not only provided clarity to the unique value of Catholic schools, but also offers the opportunity for their advancement and the articulation of their competitive advantage. Never were they more attractive. Never were they more needed.

Kenneth Van Treuren, Baylor University
Cindy Fry, Baylor University
William Jordan, Baylor University

Preparing Engineers and Computer Scientists for the Workplace
If an engineer or computer scientist is working “with all their heart, as working for the Lord,” they will apply the totality of who they are – their values, beliefs, skills, qualifications, and experience – to the job at hand, owning the responsibility for the success of what it is that they are doing. In this light, they will look at what they are doing not only with the end goal in mind, but also with curiosity, with the idea of connecting what they are doing to the needs around them, with a mind toward creating value:• Curiosity: “I know what my objective is, but is there a way to respond to the challenge differently? In a way that may not have been considered? Have I determined the answer to ‘why’ the problem statement and the objectives are to be met in the way specified? Have I looked beyond the scope and objectives to see what other opportunities might be available?”• Connections: “How does this challenge answer not only my company’s immediately need, but can it be extrapolated to similar needs in the world or my community? How does my company’s objectives align themselves with the needs in the world around me?”• Creating Value: “Have I considered how the intrinsic value created for the immediate challenge can be extrapolated to the opportunities/needs around me?”
One way this has been done at Baylor is through collaborations with other institutions of higher learning. One such course was called “The Front and Back Ends of Innovation,” a senior-level course taught collaboratively with the University of Detroit Mercy (UDM), involving students from Baylor, UDM, and St. Louis University (SLU), and team taught remotely by faculty at UDM and Baylor. The premise of the course is to “fill in the gaps” in the typical engineering design sequence. In the design sequence, most engineering programs emphasize preliminary and final design, not necessarily having time to look at the processes that occur before preliminary design (idea/concept generation, concept feasibility, customer needs, market analysis, etc.), as well as those that occur during and after final design (operations and maintenance, financing, marketing, etc.). In the “front end” of innovation, students must consider factors beyond technical feasibility, and include concepts such as societal needs, existing infrastructure, culture, etc., in the determination not only of ideas, but also in the feasibility of concepts selected for preliminary design. In the “back end” of innovation, students must consider decision factors typically not included in their engineering coursework in order to make a wise decision with as many of the necessary factors as possible in order to determine how best to meet the needs of industry and customer, creating value for both.
Another way that our students are exposed to their calling as engineers and computer scientists is to participate on trips to the developing world to use their technical skills to improve people’s quality of life and fulfill their Christian calling. We have a very active student group, Engineers with a Mission. This group does engineering mission trips, largely in the developing world. In recent years we have taken teams to Rwanda and Haiti. While on these trips the students learn how to practice engineering in a difficult context and how to practice engineering in a way that directly helps poor people. For example, in 2015 we helped create five small solar power businesses in rural villages in northeast Haiti. They will provide a real service to these poor communities as well as help create new businesses in that region. In addition to helping the poor people in the developing country we have the goal of changing the lives of the students. After a trip like this they will never be the same. Their view of engineering is changed. They now want to use engineering to help others. They will be more valuable engineers because they know how to work well in teams, and how to do quality engineering work in very stressful environments.
Related to these international trips is conducting research whose goal is to eventually help poor people in developing countries. Dr. Jordan has now had three Master’s students do research in banana fiber reinforced plastics. This is traditional research, but on an untraditional topic. They will have skills that are desired by industry as there is an increased desire to use natural materials in products."

Students of Oklahoma Baptist University
Chair-Glenn Sanders, Oklahoma Baptist University

Honor Students of Union University
Co-chairs: Scott Huelin, Justin Barnard, and Walton Padelford, Union University

Rochelle Tractenberg, Georgetown University
Chris Golde, Stanford University
Chris Rios, Baylor University
Chair-Laine Scales, Baylor University

The Carnegie Initiative on the Doctorate (CID, 2001-2006) defined the “formation of stewards of the discipline” as the objective for doctoral education. “A steward is someone to whom the vigor, quality, and integrity of the field can be entrusted.” Key features of disciplinary stewardship include: the capacity to generate new knowledge and defend knowledge claims against challenges and criticism; a commitment to conserving the most important ideas and findings; and engagement in transforming knowledge by teaching well to a variety of audiences. In this session, the research director of the CID, Chris Golde, will introduce the construct of disciplinary Stewardship, provide background on its origins, and how it was received. Chris Rios will then describe how Stewardship has informed doctoral education at Baylor over the past decade and ask how it relates to larger challenges facing doctoral education. Rochelle Tractenberg will discuss how she achieves stewardship through purposeful engagement with others in research and teaching to promote stewardship.

Paper Presentations

How Theological Tradition Informs Teaching Methods: A Christian Faculty Survey
Introduction and Literature Review:
Smith and Smith advanced a call within faith integration research to “broaden the conversation from a focus on scholarship to include more explicit concern with pedagogy” (p. 5). Through personal faculty narratives, Migliazzo (2002) detailed different strategies that faculty from diverse Christian theological traditions have used inside their classrooms to incorporate their faith their work. Jacobsen and Jacobsen (2004) argued that faith integration conversations should be expanded to draw upon and include a diverse palette of theological traditions to reflect the diverse traditions that faculty identify with at Christian institutions. Despite their focus on Christian scholarship, Jacobsen and Jacobsen make the case for the importance of theological traditions and the ways in which it can shape faculty positions.
Recently, two studies have found that faculty members’ unique Christian beliefs shape their work (Alleman, Glanzer, & Guthrie, 2016; Sites, Garzon, Milacci, & Boothe, 2009). Sites et al. (2009) found that faculty members’ religious commitments inform faculty actions and pedagogical practices in the classroom. Similarly, Alleman, Glanzer, and Guthrie (2016) noted the importance of theological traditions on how faculty members at CCCU institutions conceptualize their teaching objectives, such as cultivating spiritual practices, introducing scripture, and using unique methodological approaches. Though Alleman, Glanzer, and Guthrie (2016) and Sites et al. (2009) uncovered the influence of faith upon classroom methods, it was not the primary focus of either research project.
While practices can be viewed as a subset of teaching methods, little empirical research has been done that depicts how faculty members’ theological traditions shape their teaching methods and pedagogical approaches. This study explored how Christian faculty at Council for Christian Colleges and Universities member institutions articulate how their theological tradition informs their teaching methods.
The findings of this qualitative study come from a dataset that surveyed faculty members teaching at CCCU member institutions. Faculty at 48 CCCU institutions were surveyed for a total of 2,313 respondents. Faculty respondents were asked to identify whether their theological tradition influenced multiple areas of their work, including their teaching methods, course objectives, foundations/worldview guiding the course, motivations or attitude toward the class, and ethical approach. This paper details the answers to the question: Does your theological tradition shape your teaching methods? If the respondents answered affirmatively, they were prompted to complete an optional write-in answer that asked them to provide an example of how their faith tradition influenced their teaching methods. Of the 2,313 survey respondents, 444 faculty respondents provided a written response. A two-cycle coding process was used to analyze these responses.
Findings and Implications:
Some of the respondents, though they had answered that their faith did shape their teaching methods in the survey, when prompted to provide an example they were not sure how. One respondent lamented, “I am not sure how this tradition influences my teaching methods. I would like to know how it should.” Those that did provide an example typically responded in one of two ways. First, some responded by giving non-method responses, or general approaches to teaching and students, others mentioned specific methods that they utilize in the classroom. These responses were not always mutually exclusive, with some participants giving both general approaches to teaching as well as methods or pedagogical tools.
Non-method responses included: Student-focused approaches, Classroom environment and course content, and an understanding of the role of the faculty member. Of the 444 responses to the questions, only about half (n=214) of the respondents actually put forth specific teaching methods they employed in their courses. These teaching methods reflect three categories: Practices, Student-Centered Methods, and Teacher-Oriented Methods. Included in the 214 responses are a handful of participants that discussed methods generally but did not give specific examples: “Instruction is provided in a variety of ways to meet the needs of all learners.”
That only a fraction of the participants, on the whole, were able to articulate a clear connection between their personal faith and their teaching methods is concerning. Yet, some faculty did link their theological tradition to their teaching methods, explaining support for an array of methods within the Christian faith. The multiple approaches might reveal that there is not widespread consensus upon what makes teaching methods and pedagogical tools uniquely Christian, or if that is even possible.

A Pedagogy and Spiritual Practice of Longform Podcasts, or Why Christian Educations Should Take "Serial" Seriously
We live in the age of the 6-second Vine, the 10-second Snap, the 15-second Instagram video, and the 16-second MixBit video. While these emerging forms of social media have provided platforms for enacting change and giving voice to those who have been ignored by traditional media and news outlets, these short videos encourage surface-level listening and likely contribute to our shrinking attention span. Following recent calls for “slow reading,” a movement that encourages people to “pick up a meaningful work of literature” instead of “scanning Twitter for something to pass the time” (Kelly), I propose the need for educators to encourage “slow listening,” a practice that involves listening carefully, critically, and empathetically to an extended argument. Encouraging students to actively practice “slow listening” will, I believe, not only encourage students to listen more carefully in the classroom but to approach all texts—aural or visual—more critically.
This paper proposes the adoption of longform podcasts, specifically Serial, as a pedagogical tool for “slow listening” in the composition classroom. Serial, an NPR podcast hosted by Sarah Koenig, covers a single issue over an 11-12 episode season of 30-60 minute episodes. Serial offers a unique opportunity for educators because it is longform new media, standing in direct opposition to the seemingly ever-increasing quick social media. Assigning a weekly Serial episode promises to expose students to an emerging genre and medium, as well as help students analyze a single story, spread throughout the semester. This practice demonstrates the value of remaining interested in and thinking about a text over an extended period of time, in contrast to quickly devouring of short texts. In addition to encouraging “slow listening,” Serial offers an engaging way to teach students about the rhetorical situation, evaluating sources, explaining effectively, and other writing and reading skills. Many disciplines could integrate Serial in the classroom, but, because of my background in first-year composition, this essay traces some of the ways to use Serial in English classrooms.
The second part of this essay argues that Serial is not only significant for the composition instructor; it has serious implications for the Christian classroom and can even teach us something about God and the Christian tradition. Drawing from Noirin Ni Riain’s theology of listening, this essay suggests that Serial encourages students to critically listen, and this collective practice of critical listening allows students to engage in an activity fundamental to the Christian tradition. According to Rian, ""The encounter with the incarnate Word of God through the Holy Spirit takes place primarily, although not excepting other media, through the human sense of hearing, listening, and its associate silence. From Abraham to the incarnate Son of God, the connection between humanity and God was through the ear. God taught and continues to teach the universe to listen. Any listening, therefore, is, in itself, the voice of God in the transcendental ear of the listener. It is a dialogue between partners and friends"" (9). From a theological lens, Serial and “slow listening” encourages us to truly listen to texts, people, and God. “Slow listening” demands that we hear with empathetic ears and see Christ in each other. Thus, this essay approaches the podcast and “slow listening” from a pedagogical and theological to urge Christian educators to take Serial seriously in their classroom.

The Architecture of Democracy and the Art of Capitalism
Defenders of the Humanities may feel as if they are modern Monuments Men, racing around trying to protect cultural treasures – either in the arts themselves, art and music programs at universities, or values like traditional views on marriage and gender. The popular press is filled with op-eds on the enduring value of the Humanities, but not much on specific elements thereof, such as the role of public art and architecture.
Public art and architecture speak volumes about the basic political and social values of their societies, including citizenship, virtue, and the role of the state. Yet the disciplines of the Humanities and Social Sciences often do not speak to each other. Philosophers and critics from Aristotle to Ruskin to Wendell Berry have recognized that nothing is useful if it is not also beautiful. We need engineers and architects and public administrators who design and build our public infrastructure as if humans mattered, as if beauty mattered. To train them, our institutions of higher learning need more interaction between our arts and humanities, social sciences, and architecture and engineering programs.
In this paper I will discuss the architecture of democracy, focusing on the cities of Washington, London and Rome; and the art of capitalism, concentrating on artists JMW Turner and John Steuart Curry, and collector Andrew Mellon. I will argue that the deep connections between public art and architecture and underlying political values must be taught in today’s classroom if we are to preserve what is Beautiful, True, and meant for the Public Good.

Service, Academic Mission, and the Cultured Despisers of “Christian” Colleges
Challenges to the value of higher education--especially of the liberal arts--have encouraged a renewed emphasis on service to society and the world. Colleges and universities are wholeheartedly embracing this mission, but are they embracing it heedlessly? Seemingly forgotten is the common suspicion directed toward church-related colleges precisely because they pursue their academic mission in the context of broader theological commitments entailing specific goals and assumptions about value, service and the nature of community. Given the academic excellence of many such institutions, and the present mission focus of many secular ones, one is tempted to suppose that this suspicion is more often based upon theological disagreement than academic principle. But the academic principles are crucial in any case, and they should be heeded.
Service, or the aim for transformation, ordinarily takes key questions as settled or provisionally closed questions, for example, about what is good for persons and society, and how to achieve it. The academic project, of course, takes those questions (and others like them) to be open; they are objects for study and exploration. This tension receives insufficient attention in and outside of higher learning institutions. But a mission of service, or an aim to transform persons or society, is not necessarily at odds with an academic mission. Colleges and universities that are attentive to the relationship between institutional orientation and classroom pedagogy, and intentional about maintaining both, can combine service and academic mission with integrity. Where such attentiveness and intentionality are lacking, higher learning institutions of all sorts have much to learn from the experiences of church-related colleges and universities who have forged a path of academic excellence situated in deep and substantive commitment to bettering persons and the world.
My paper will explore the tensions between service and academic mission, describe the crucial distinction between pedagogy and institutional mission, and suggest guidelines for integrity in academic mission developed in part by faith-based institutions but applicable to all.

Teaching Charity to Logic Students
Philosophers historically have argued that logic is important partially because it helps those who employ it well better understand themselves, others, and the broader world that they inhabit. Those who champion this ancient view within the framework of a liberal arts education maintain that logic is a “humane” area of study, because it helps human beings understand arguments and perspectives as they relate to these three domains of human life. As proponents of this position, we strive to teach our students logic in a way that ultimately will contribute to their ability to flourish qua human beings.
Meeting our goal has proven surprisingly difficult for this reason: although our students become capable of proficiently utilizing logical rules and methods when dealing with a textbook or sanitized classroom assignments, they consistently struggle to apply their newly acquired skills to the untidy “real life” arguments and perspectives they encounter in places ranging from Thomas Aquinas’s Summa Theologiae to their friend’s Facebook page, and to debates on national news networks.
These failures to understand and properly evaluate such arguments arise partially because our students lack the virtue of intellectual charity. Thus they employ logical skills without doing so in a manner informed by charity. This approach often leads them to miss the main point or argument that an author or speaker is trying to make, and frequently to misconstrue or misunderstand the issue, topic, or argument in question. Sometimes students make these mistakes with their own views (this shortcoming most clearly arises in their writing). Thus, a character deficiency precludes our students from rightly relating to others and themselves and, as result, from acquiring wisdom.
In this paper, we combine medieval (e.g., Thomas Aquinas) and contemporary (cf. Griffiths, 1999; Jacobs, 2001) conceptions of charitable reading and conversing with certain recent developments in education theory (Bourdieu, 1990; Wenger, 1999; Smith and Smith, 2011). We explore several pedagogical practices – e.g., “floating chair,” rereading, and intentional moments of silence before permitting responses to questions – in the context of an Introduction to Logic class, and discuss ways in which these practices create opportunities for students’ growth in intellectual charity and wisdom.

The Confessional Task of the Christian University
Can education be Christian? To take Christian education as a coherent notion is not self-evident, and to denote education as Christian requires first that the real dangers of such a designation be appreciated. This paper will argue that for education, and here specifically, that of a university, properly to be deemed Christian requires at the very least that its identity and task be seen as situated within and understood in light of the history of God's work of redemption. Such an understanding requires that Christian education be understood as a distinct form of obedience that takes its rise and its bearing from the Gospel and exists in service to the church and the world. Such education is thus in turn marked by a particular form of confession which is in truth a secondary one derived from the church's own.
Such confession will be examined in this paper in terms of the task of the university as: 1) one of profession in its original and secondary senses of the Gospel and Christian vocation (the doctrine of reconciliation and salvation), 2) contestation and polemical engagement with rival forms of conviction and the "lordless powers" [Karl Barth] - (the doctrine of rebellion and sin); and 3) creaturely exultation in the natural and social worlds (the doctrine of creation with that of its final redemption). This paper will conclude with reflections upon the distinctive task of theology within the university.

Campus-Community Partnerships and Christian Higher Education
Campus-Community Partnerships and Christian Higher Education
Christian higher education has had a mixed response to the broad movement in the academy toward greater civic engagement as a part of the learning process. For a variety of reasons, including disparate theological traditions, different demographic and geographic realities, and unique story lines, religious colleges and universities have not been of one mind when it comes to whether, how, and to what end to engage deeply in campus-community partnerships.
Judith Ramaley, president emeritus of Portland State University, and senior researcher and administrator Barbara Holland have each been key voices calling for more thoughtful engaged teaching and scholarship in higher education for decades. In a timely 2014 article in the Journal of Higher Education Outreach and Engagement, Ramaley identified the complexity of today’s “wicked problems” as an impetus for developing a more nuanced infrastructure in higher education for “collaborative partnerships with other universities, sectors of society, local communities, and even nations to generate knowledge, address societal challenges, and create learning environments in which to educate their students.” Drawing on Holland’s ideas, she goes on to suggest that “the reputation and impact of a university will be created through measurable effects on the quality of local and global life, culture, health, economic stability, and environment.”
Complacency in college and university students (e.g. political, social, spiritual) can be a wicked problem, especially in a democracy. Service-learning opportunities and programs, community-based research, volunteering, and community engagement activities are all means by which the academy has attempted to deepen learning, overcome student complacency, and honor the centuries-old social compact between campuses and society at large. Deep, well-cared-for campus-community partnerships hold promise not only for the local impact of each of the partners, but also on a more long-term level in terms of the effects these partnerships might have on the affective lives of students.
As scholars and practitioners working out the unique value and calling of religious institutions of higher education, it is time for a discussion about partnerships. In this paper, I propose to address campus-community partnerships very specifically from the point of view of engaged teaching and learning, student opportunities for service-learning and civic engagement, and student leadership development. A winsome and faithful presence begins with an acknowledgment that institutions of higher education cannot solve intractable social problems on their own, and such a presence must prioritize and value collaborative, reciprocal partnerships that foster healthy communities and student learning simultaneously.
Two parallel efforts to both measure the strength of partnerships between Calvin College and its local community, as well as to measure the effectiveness of college programs to enhance the capacity of seven very close campus-community partners, will serve as reference points to guide a larger conversation about the value of campus-community partnerships toward a more collaborative attention to wicked societal and local problems; and for a deeper set of learning and development opportunities for students.
Ramaley’s article, “The Changing Role of Higher Education: Learning to Deal with Wicked Problems,” (2014), will frame the conversation, with special attention to her suggestion that a “new class of professionals,” what she calls “boundary spanners,” will need to emerge to guide colleges and universities into this more engaged and collaborative space.

No Man is an Island: The Intellectual life as friendship with God.
I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master’s business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you. John 15:15
Max Weber in his essay Science as Vocation writes: “The fate of our times is characterized by rationalization and intellectualization and, above all, by the ‘disenchantment of the world.’ Precisely the ultimate and most sublime values have retreated from public life either into the transcendental realm of mystic life or into the brotherliness of direct and personal human relations.” Here I would suggest Weber presents in many ways the culmination of the notion of reason as disengaged. In other words, beginning with Descartes the understanding of reason is one of an instrument, and rationality “or the power of thought, as a capacity we have to construct orders which meet the standards demanded by knowledge, or understanding, or certainty.” Unlike the ancients — Plato, Aristotle, Augustine and Aquinas — who understood that the human person is a being oriented beyond him or herself to the Good or God; and this orientation manifests itself in the eros of human wondering; the modern project, conversely, comes to understand the world as neutral at best and devoid of meaningful intelligibility at worst. In other words, the “Enlightenment” took the cosmos as “a neutral domain,” and our job, so to speak, is to understand it in order to master it. Human knowledge and research are the means by which to gain power and control over nature.
This instrumentalization of reason coupled with the disenchantment of the universe has brought about an intellectual sovereignty of the self, which is the outgrowth of Lock’s disengaged subject. This sovereignty of the intellectual self is expressed in how academics see themselves as autonomous researchers bound to nothing other than the power of their own reason. The thought of thinking and researching within a religious conversation, unless it is specifically theological, (even here, however, one finds an increasing commitment to be free of any outside intellectual ties), is anathema to academic freedom and self-sovereignty. I would like to suggest however, that the relationship between Athens and Jerusalem, faith and reason is foundational for the full exploration of the truth. As the document Ex Corde Ecclesiae proclaims: “It is in the context of the impartial search for truth that the relationship between faith and reason is brought to light and meaning.” Religious Universities “are called to explore courageously the riches of Revelation and nature so that the united endeavor of intelligence and faith will enable people to come to the full measure of their humanity, created in the image and likeness of God. . .”
The purpose of this paper will be to suggest that scholarship (both in the humanities and natural sciences) grounded in faith and reason is a profound act of friendship with God. That thinking within a faith community is a form of conversation that not only honors our friendship with God, but also makes our search for truth richer and more profound.
This paper will proceed in three parts. Part I will situate us historically with respect to this notion of the sovereignty of the self. In other words, how did we get to this point in our self-understanding? Part II will cover some familiar ground on the notion of friendship. Part III will be both a philosophical and theological meditation on how one might think of scholarship as indeed a profound form of conversational friendship with God within the context of a faith based institution.

Pieper's "The Philosophical Act" and its Pedagogical Implications
In “The Philosophical Act” Josef Pieper draws on the views of Greek and Medieval philosophers to articulate a comprehensive vision of philosophy. On this view, philosophy involves stepping outside the workaday world and experiencing wonder at all that God has created and at the nature of human beings. Pieper claims that the structure of philosophy is identical to that of hope, because the object at which it aims—wisdom as it is possessed by God—is not fully possessed by human beings, though it is lovingly sought.
In this paper, I briefly describe Pieper’s vision of philosophy before turning to a discussion of its implications for teaching philosophy. While I do not spend a great deal of time defending Pieper’s view, I believe that many philosophers (especially Christian philosophers) will find it very attractive. Hence, it will be beneficial for us, as teachers of philosophy, to assess our pedagogical practices in light of Pieper’s vision of this “essentially human” activity.
The first pedagogical implication I discuss is that one of our central tasks will be leading our students beyond the workaday world. Pieper’s diagnosis of the culture in 1947—that the workaday world (i.e. the world of means and ends) was becoming the only world—is just as relevant today. Our students need to discover the value of philosophy that is independent of grades, entrance exams, and jobs.
Second, Pieper’s vision should remind us that the transmission of content should not be our primary learning objective. While philosophical content is important, it is vital that we help our students develop the ability to adopt a philosophical attitude toward the world around them. This is seldom achieved by maximizing the amount of content that is covered in a given course.
Finally, a shift in learning objectives will also present a need for new means of assessment. We will have to be creative in developing new types of assessment or revising old types in order to measure whether students have cultivated the abilities we have been trying to teach. I expand on each of these implications and draw comparisons to recent work on the topic of philosophical pedagogy.

Distinctly Christian Higher Education in Secularizing (and Already Secular) Institutions
That private institutions of higher education in the United States with explicitly religious affiliations and missions have gradually moved in a secular direction is an incontrovertible fact.(1) The magisterial treatments of the subject, George Marsden’s The Soul of the American University: From Protestant Establishment to Established Nonbelief (Oxford 1994) and James Tunstead Burtchaell’s The Dying of the Light: The Disengagement of Colleges & Universities from Their Christian Churches (Eerdmans 1998), are now two decades old, but the central claims made by each book remain relevant to the current situation in higher education. In Marsden’s view, the seeds for contemporary secularization were planted with the meeting of American Protestantism and the “scientific” European research institution. By the late 1890s in elite American universities, the resolution of these competing forces was a “division of functions”:
The highest academic pursuits would soon be defined in such a way that the intrusion of specifically Christian concerns would seem irrelevant or prejudicial. Nevertheless, the whole enterprise could be regarded as broadly Christian so long as there was some room for morally uplifting undergraduate teaching and for voluntary commitment as a [sic] extracurricular activity.” (Marsden 31)
Put bluntly, this “division of functions” essentially codified a split between faith and reason, pushing religious faith to the realm of the private and emotive, and clearly disadvantaging it in relation to the pursuits of modern scientific rationality. Burtchaell’s analysis complemented the historical-theoretical approach of Marsden by looking closely at a set of American universities as case studies of secularization and observing that a gradual drift of religious universities away from their sponsoring churches was the clearest indication of secularization. These analyses of secularization in higher education parallel broader cultural accounts of the process of secularization, such as Charles Taylor’s comprehensive treatment in A Secular Age (Harvard 2007). I address the secularization of higher education in three steps: a broad analysis of the meaning of secularization, especially as it applies to higher education; identifying particular signs that indicate the process of secularization at particular universities; and specific steps available to faculty, staff, and students at secularizing universities to maintain vibrant Christian formation (2).
Following Burtchaell’s analysis, the primary indicator of secularization in higher education is, perhaps paradoxically, agreements and declarations that purport to affirm the commitment of an institution to its religious character and mission. When the faculty, administration, and staff of an institution have drifted sufficiently from the culture of Christian commitment to require such a declaration, the first critical steps of secularization have already occurred.
If the primary impetus for the process of secularization in higher education is a division between faith and reason, the path of response to that process is to be found in initiatives that demonstrate the complementarity of faith and reason. Consequently, faculty and staff at secularizing institutions that wish to maintain a richly Christian form of higher education must find avenues, both within the university curriculum and student policies to address the relevance of faith commitments to the intellectual life generally and academic pursuits more narrowly. Further contributions are possible outside the formal structure of curriculum and policies in co-curricular activities such as student discussion groups, speakers clubs, and research institutes.
(1) There are of course some exceptions to the general trend of secularization. Baylor University is perhaps the clearest example of a major Protestant Christian university that responded to the challenge of secularization by reaffirming its religious character. Some Christian universities, both Protestant and Catholic, have been landmarks of robust and ongoing Christian commitment; examples would include Wheaton, Calvin, Franciscan, and Biola. By contrast, still other Christian universities, such as Notre Dame, have experienced very public battles regarding secularization, with a more ambiguous resolution.
(2) While my focus here is on secularizing trends in private institutions with a religious character, I would argue that the general secularizing trend of our culture is reflected in public institutions that are nominally “neutral” religiously as well. Some the strategies I suggest for responding to secularizing at religious institutions will apply to religious faculty at state institutions and “non-sectarian” private institutions.

Nihil Nimus : Teaching Moderation through Online Courses
The digital integration of contemporary life seemingly marches to the beat of its own drum and transforms everything it touches, from physical health to recreation to relationships. Higher learning is no exception, with the exponential growth of online courses in academia being the most visible change. The addition of online courses into the legitimate ranks of university curricula has been a matter of controversy, as critics and proponents alike try to understand the short and long-term impact it has on student learning. To those critically reflecting upon online learning, I submit one potential benefit: the opportunity to foster a lifestyle of nihil nimus.
Nihil Nimus, nothing in excess, is the cornerstone of Robert Boice's Advice for New Faculty Members. One of the many challenges for new professors, he contends, is overcoming the bad work habits of bingeing and busyness adopted during their education. For example, systemic uses of term papers and final exams tend to emphasize excellence in the final product but not healthy or efficient methods of creating it. In his book, Boice shows new faculty members how to shift their mental and work habits to a model of moderation. He shows that such a shift will result in increased productivity and creativity while simultaneously decreasing burnout and cycles of procrastination.
I contend that the nature and challenges of online learning courses provide a unique opportunity to encourage a lifestyle of moderation, which is in alignment with a goal of higher education to not just transfer information but to transform people. Online courses tend to include more frequent assignments to encourage participation, track student comprehension, and generally compensate for the loss of easy student-teacher interaction found in the physical classroom. These brief, frequent assignments closely model the "brief, regulated sessions" (BRS) that Boice recommends in his book as an essential habit of successful, moderate professionals. If guided by the professor, this aspect of online learning could be used to intentionally instill the values of moderation and its subsequent benefits into students.

Bring Back the Passion! Kierkegaard and the Role of Service and Immersive Learning in Higher Education
In Soren Kierkegaard’s Two Ages, he contrasts the present age with an earlier, superior age. The present age is characterized by reflection and deliberation, rarely resulting in action. The present age is “devoid of passion, flaring up in superficial, short-lived enthusiasm and prudentially relaxing in indolence” (Two Ages 68). Kierkegaard imagines a crowd of people contemplating skating on dangerous thin ice during the present age: “In a reflective age devoid of passion” the crowd “in mutual recognition of shared prudence…would sensibly agree that it certainly would not be worth the trouble to skate out on such thin ice…” (72). The present age would rather perpetually consider possibilities, rather than make a decision and act.
Conversely, the age of revolution is characterized by passion, action, and strong individuals that act on their values. “The age of revolution is essentially passionate, and therefore essentially has form” (61). Aristotelian form—the essence of a thing that is realized in the shape the thing takes. If a person has form, then that form will be recognizable in the person’s decisions and actions. Furthermore, “the age of revolution is essentially passionate…a manifestation of energy that unquestionably is a definite something and does not deceptively change under the influence of conjectural criticism concerning what the agent really wants” (66). In other words, the age of revolution is characterized by “something like sustained dispositional ethical enthusiasm or interest” (Roberts 1984, 187). Passion in this sense is character, an on-going, deeply entrenched commitment to ideals that are bigger than the self, namely moral or religious values.
Kierkegaard thinks that a mature human being is a synthesis of passion and reflection. It takes thought and reflection to know what ideals one should commit oneself to. But it takes passion to follow through on those commitments. If one is passionate about something, they are enthusiastically concerned about it, which requires that one understand the object of concern. Hence the need for reflection. But if the agent engages in too much reflection or deliberation, the passion is rendered stale. To keep passion alive and vibrant, the agent must consistently act on the passion. “A passion is like a momentum, and actions in accordance with it are like thrusts that replenish the momentum: As in bicycle riding, if one goes too long without peddling, so too in life if one goes too long without acting” (Roberts, 94). Even if a person seems enthusiastically concerned about moral or religious values, a prolonged period of inactivity will stifle the passion, resulting in the relaxed indolence of reflection.
The liberal arts tradition understands education as free inquiry and therefore its own end. In the words of my mentor A.J. Conyers, for Augustine and the Christian liberal arts tradition, the goal of knowledge is love, not primarily power or change. I affirm this crucial aspect of the liberal arts. However, keeping in mind Kierkegaard’s contrast between the age of passion and the age of reflection, the potential downside of focusing on knowledge for its own sake is that our students might become advanced deliberators with no passion. In a pluralist context where our students come from diverse backgrounds, we cannot expect or demand that they have particular moral or religious commitments. And if we—as I think we should—educate them on multiple religious and moral traditions, we increase the chance that our students might graduate with less passion than they began, and surely this is not the goal of a liberal arts education.
Courses in my program include two specific elements to infuse reflection with passion. First, we have students engage in site visits, or what I call immersive learning. When reading the Ramayana, the students visit a Hindu temple. While reading the Koran, we have students visit a Mosque, and so forth. Senior papers and exit interviews demonstrate that these visits have a decisive impact on students, their sense of vocation, and how they view the religious “other.” Second, we have them engage in service learning, visiting and engaging community service organizations while reading theoretical material about the problems those organizations seek to alleviate. Again, initial reports indicate that these visits have a profound effect on our students. Many go on to internships, graduate school programs, or jobs chosen because of this exposure. I argue that these are two ways that higher education courses can bridge the gap between passion and reflection and form students who will be culturally engaged and critically reflective citizens.

"To wash in the pool of Siloam": How seeing like an artist opens the eyes of our souls
My presentation stems from an ongoing research and writing project that addresses the problem found in Matthew chapter thirteen when Christ explains that He teaches in parables because “…while people seeing they do not see…nor do they understand. (v. 13)” We find ourselves in a time when images and text invade our lives through media of all kinds, social, television, film, print, and the internet in general. Most education does not provide a way to process, edit, prioritize, synthesize, evaluate or even categorize what we “see.” So while we are seeing more than any previous generation in human history, do we really see and understand?
I remember once when my son was young and a politician came on the television giving a campaign speech and my son asked, “Is he real?” The format through which he had experienced cartoons and movies now required him to think of it as a different kind of delivery system, one that presents a “real time” event. His question raises the difficulty in knowing what is the connection between “the format” and reality. This is even more obscured by the way digital communication has become normalized through, text, email, online class delivery systems, twitter, facebook, etc. How many misunderstandings happen through text that is without a context (body) to bring it to life and meaning? Nothing is wrong with new ways to communicate and the incredible variety and range of visuals that are accessible. My concern is that people need new ways to understand how seeing and understanding (as Jesus implies) are not just relegated to the optical ability to identify data received through ones physical eyes alone.
My research and writing is resulting in a series of essays that connect the way artists view life, Scriptural patterns of creativity, teaching through parable/story as a way to “see” more clearly and the wholeness that comes from this intersection. Clarity of vision that not only involves how one edits the visual data received optically but offers a way of adjusting the editing system to see more fully and with a greater awareness of how God interacts through the visual, the creative process, through nature and people.
How do we as university professors apply the rich heritage of “story-based” teaching that we find exampled in the Gospels? I will be exploring the need for critical thinking and deep reflection that is a part of grappling with complex truths found in narrative and visual storytelling that Jesus used to layout the incredible breadth and depth of the “Kingdom of God.” We as Christian Higher Educators have a responsibility to help out students in every discipline understand that it has a role in the Kingdom and seeing like an artist crosses discipline lines and embraces all of the aspects of life.
This project is very relevant to the discussion of the role of higher education. Our college students are saturated with information from many sources and we as educators have the opportunity to assist them in evaluating the input and what their response will be. As a 25 year veteran in the university classroom I have observed the changes students are going through and continue to adapt my teaching to make their education vital and cohesive with the challenges of living in our current age.

Of Dogfish and Sonnets: Higher Learning While Lost in the Cosmos
The call for proposals for this Symposium begins with the claim that “Higher education in America is in the midst of profound challenge and transformation.” There follows a list of particular issues faced by contemporary higher education, a list that leads to the conclusion that “…many institutions [of higher education] seem to be suffering something akin to an identity crisis.”
In this paper, I propose to consider what light the late philosopher, novelist and physician Walker Percy might shed on this crisis. Since the very notion of a “crisis” has its origins in the practice of medicine and since the former physician Walker Percy considered himself as novelist and philosopher to be a diagnostician of the human soul, perhaps he has something to say to us about what ails contemporary higher education.
Percy’s essay, “The Loss of the Creature,” will be of particular use in this regard and will serve as the starting point for asking and answering three questions. First, what did Walker Percy say about the contemporary educational predicament? Second, was Percy correct in his diagnosis? Finally, insofar as Percy was correct, does he have anything to say in response to this Symposium’s concern with higher learning? That is, what might be some of the practical prognostic and treatment implications of what Percy says?

Higher Learning and the Missions of the Christian University
A theme of this conference is that universities today may be facing issues “akin to an identity crisis” with unclear and/or contradictory goals and purposes. If so, how much more may this be true for many Christian universities and colleges, particularly those affiliated with fundamentalist and evangelical denominations wherein biblical interpretation and scientific claims are taught to be at odds and wherein science is generally mistrusted. Indeed, a strong tension between science and theological has developed in the U.S. over the last approximately 120 years.
Unfortunately, this tension still thrives today within many Christian communities: According to a recent survey a third of young adults with a Christian background believe that churches are out of step with the scientific world we live in and a quarter of them believe that Christianity is anti-science. Perhaps as telling, a recent survey conducted by the Associated Press/GFK indicates that Americans have more doubt than acceptance of concepts far away in scope and time that scientists accept as firmly established by overwhelming evidence: Over 51% of the U.S. populous disbelieves in the Big Bang origin of the universe 13.8 billion years ago, the 4.5-billion-year age of the earth, and the over 3-billion year evolutionary history of life on earth. Confidence in these scientific theories, all strongly supported by evidence, decreases sharply with increasing theistic belief. Evangelical and fundamentalist Christians in particular express much greater doubts. Based on a recent Gallup pole, more than two-thirds of those who attend weekly religious services espouse belief in a young earth, compared to just 23% of those who never go to church.
The re-unification of faith and science within the Christian community as a whole is deeply needed if it is to play a meaningful role in the technological society of future generations. Clearly, it is time for a renaissance of a consistent theology of nature to be taught more firmly to fundamentalist and evangelical Christians. Human understanding of the nature and modes of God's interaction with creation has advanced significantly over millennia through our growing understanding of the natural world. Significant steps in these theological aspects have often correlated strongly with paradigm shifts in our understanding of the physical world. Each major paradigm shift of the natural world has led to a larger, more vast, while simultaneously, more ordered and unified, perception of reality. Yet, unfortunately as the surveys have shown, many Christian groups, who should be seekers of all truth, continue to remain isolated, often intentionally by their denominational and church leaders, from growing human knowledge of creation.
A fundamental goal of an institution of higher learning claiming “Christian University” as its classification should be to demonstrate to both the Christian community and society as a whole that this classification is not an oxymoron, but is mutually consistent. This is indeed a defining aspect of the schools represented at this conference, and of many others. Nevertheless, what perhaps should be continually re-examined in this context by our institutions is how to most effectively present to the Christian community and the whole of society, the message of the inherently necessary unity and self-consistency of truth in all of its aspects.
We will summarize the content of a related course, “Scripture, Cosmology, and Creation” offered in past years as a capstone course in Baylor’s Honors College and also the content of a workshop, entitled “Science and Faith: Breaking Down the Wall”, that was offered for the general public at Texas Baptist Churches by Baylor’s Center for Ministry Enhancement and Educational leadership.

A Pedagogy and Spiritual Practice of Longform Podcasts, or Why Christian Educations Should Take "Serial" Seriously
We live in the age of the 6-second Vine, the 10-second Snap, the 15-second Instagram video, and the 16-second MixBit video. While these emerging forms of social media have provided platforms for enacting change and giving voice to those who have been ignored by traditional media and news outlets, these short videos encourage surface-level listening and likely contribute to our shrinking attention span. Following recent calls for “slow reading,” a movement that encourages people to “pick up a meaningful work of literature” instead of “scanning Twitter for something to pass the time” (Kelly), I propose the need for educators to encourage “slow listening,” a practice that involves listening carefully, critically, and empathetically to an extended argument. Encouraging students to actively practice “slow listening” will, I believe, not only encourage students to listen more carefully in the classroom but to approach all texts—aural or visual—more critically.
This paper proposes the adoption of longform podcasts, specifically Serial, as a pedagogical tool for “slow listening” in the composition classroom. Serial, an NPR podcast hosted by Sarah Koenig, covers a single issue over an 11-12 episode season of 30-60 minute episodes. Serial offers a unique opportunity for educators because it is longform new media, standing in direct opposition to the seemingly ever-increasing quick social media. Assigning a weekly Serial episode promises to expose students to an emerging genre and medium, as well as help students analyze a single story, spread throughout the semester. This practice demonstrates the value of remaining interested in and thinking about a text over an extended period of time, in contrast to quickly devouring of short texts. In addition to encouraging “slow listening,” Serial offers an engaging way to teach students about the rhetorical situation, evaluating sources, explaining effectively, and other writing and reading skills. Many disciplines could integrate Serial in the classroom, but, because of my background in first-year composition, this essay traces some of the ways to use Serial in English classrooms.
The second part of this essay argues that Serial is not only significant for the composition instructor; it has serious implications for the Christian classroom and can even teach us something about God and the Christian tradition. Drawing from Noirin Ni Riain’s theology of listening, this essay suggests that Serial encourages students to critically listen, and this collective practice of critical listening allows students to engage in an activity fundamental to the Christian tradition. According to Rian, ""The encounter with the incarnate Word of God through the Holy Spirit takes place primarily, although not excepting other media, through the human sense of hearing, listening, and its associate silence. From Abraham to the incarnate Son of God, the connection between humanity and God was through the ear. God taught and continues to teach the universe to listen. Any listening, therefore, is, in itself, the voice of God in the transcendental ear of the listener. It is a dialogue between partners and friends"" (9). From a theological lens, Serial and “slow listening” encourages us to truly listen to texts, people, and God. “Slow listening” demands that we hear with empathetic ears and see Christ in each other. Thus, this essay approaches the podcast and “slow listening” from a pedagogical and theological to urge Christian educators to take Serial seriously in their classroom.

The Architecture of Democracy and the Art of Capitalism
Defenders of the Humanities may feel as if they are modern Monuments Men, racing around trying to protect cultural treasures – either in the arts themselves, art and music programs at universities, or values like traditional views on marriage and gender. The popular press is filled with op-eds on the enduring value of the Humanities, but not much on specific elements thereof, such as the role of public art and architecture.
Public art and architecture speak volumes about the basic political and social values of their societies, including citizenship, virtue, and the role of the state. Yet the disciplines of the Humanities and Social Sciences often do not speak to each other. Philosophers and critics from Aristotle to Ruskin to Wendell Berry have recognized that nothing is useful if it is not also beautiful. We need engineers and architects and public administrators who design and build our public infrastructure as if humans mattered, as if beauty mattered. To train them, our institutions of higher learning need more interaction between our arts and humanities, social sciences, and architecture and engineering programs.
In this paper I will discuss the architecture of democracy, focusing on the cities of Washington, London and Rome; and the art of capitalism, concentrating on artists JMW Turner and John Steuart Curry, and collector Andrew Mellon. I will argue that the deep connections between public art and architecture and underlying political values must be taught in today’s classroom if we are to preserve what is Beautiful, True, and meant for the Public Good.

Faith-informed Practice: How the Integration of Faith and Learning Influences Pedagogy
In the beginning, there was work, and it was good. God worked designing the heavens and the earth and mankind. God then purposed mankind to work in communion with him, as a holy offering to him. Long before the Fall, there was work, and it was an act of worship. The Fall, however, distorted our understanding of work, and it severed our work-worship relationship with God. This severed fellowship has made it difficult for Christians to understand how best to integrate their faith and their work, and as a result, Christians more often tend to see their work as either sacred or secular. Some are taught in Christian circles the only value their faith has in public spheres is evangelizing to their friends and coworkers. Others view their work merely as a means of earning enough money to donate to church and missions. But neither of these perspectives is a complete picture of God's plan and purpose for our work. It's through our vocations-- our God-given strengths and talents-- we work for the common good, in fellowship with Him, and as an act of worship.
Is there a difference between preparing university students with a vocational perspective versus and faith-work integration perspective? Throughout history, Christianity has preserved the fundamental idea that our lives and all its facets count for something because God has a divine plan for us. Yet, traditional conversations regarding work and faith have limited themselves to professional spheres, but such conversations are indeed limiting. Any perspective that does not consider our professional work a mere extension of a more encompassing vocational call is an incomplete understanding of God's original work-worship design. Yes, our faith influences our professions; it influences all we do.
A vocational approach to our work brings congruence between who God designed us to be and what he designed us to do, both professionally and personally. Integrating a vocational work perspective into higher education pedagogy and praxis provides students a more holistic, more biblical approach to God's work-worship relationship.
In a Vocational Leadership course I teach at Baylor, the majority of my students initially struggle to make sense of their faith and their work; they see most professions as either sacred or secular. A professional call to be a pastor or overseas missionary, for example, is sacred, but to be a doctor or lawyer is decidedly more secular, they believe. Students also report feeling the only value their faith has in their work is evangelizing to their coworkers or earning enough income to donate to the church and missions. Less surprising but equally concerning, most students express a lack of understanding for how their personal life contributes to kingdom work. If, for instance, they step outside the sphere of professional work, students then wonder if their work as a mother, a care-giver, a community volunteer, will have any work value. If they change careers, did their calling and purpose change, too?
Vocation is more than work, and calling is more than our desires. These are the themes on which the course is premised. The course is designed to guide students in thinking about God's calling on their life and what this means for their professional and personal leadership decisions. Through the course, students study the concept of vocational calling and its connections to leadership, as it relates to several key themes: Faith, service, justice, relationships, work, and leadership. The class is approached from a distinctly Christian perspective; however, the themes and applications discussed are relevant to people of any faith background. In the course, students develop their personal and professional growth and leadership. They are given opportunity to consider their unique vocational call and purpose as they explore how their personal strengths, faith, values, and aspirations influence the world and can work toward the common good. Students develop their sense of vocation as they study a variety of historical and contemporary perspectives on vocation and calling.

The course aims to meet the following five objectives:
1. Explain the concept of vocational calling.
2. Apply multiple leadership theories to the concept of vocational calling.
3. Relate students strengths and values to their vocational aspirations.
4. Evaluate tools and practices that aid in vocational discernment.
5. Study agent of change leaders who have used their vocational calling to contribute to the common good.
This presentation seeks to answer the following questions as we grapple with how best to integrate a vocational perspective into Christian higher education:
I. What is a historical and contemporary view of vocation?
II. Is a vocational perspective more of a work-worship relationship than traditional faith integration approaches?
III. What does a vocational leadership course entail?
IV. How do universities implement vocation in both pedagogy and praxis and to what end?

A New Trivium: The Medieval Arts of Language as the "Basic Skills" for College
We all know that our students are not sufficiently prepared for, or improved by, the college or university experience they and their families sacrifice so much to have. The evidence for insufficient preparation is clear: In 2011, according to the College Board, SAT scores were down in all areas, including reading, and only 43% of high school seniors were "ready" for college. As is that for insufficient learning while there: As noted in Academically Adrift, "[M]any students are only minimally improving their skills in critical thinking, complex reasoning, and writing during their journeys through higher education" (35). Many students arrive at college and university without the competencies required for "academic success," and, as a result, they struggle without some form of remediation. Hence the growth in "basic skills" courses prior or parallel to their regular course work in a Core or in their major. Those courses are often (though not always) uneven, in part because they begin with too low an opinion of what students can/should learn, in part because they concentrate too heavily on writing, only one of the four arts informed by the trivium.
I would like to offer a modified version of the medieval trivium-the arts of English grammar, traditional logic and classical rhetoric-as the foundation for those "skills": arts which, both known and known in relation to one another, can constitute the basis of the articulacy necessary for higher studies. Why? Because these arts are elemental to the four other arts necessary for success in academic-reading, writing, listening, and speaking. I will defend the modified version both by explaining philosophically why these three traditional arts of language are propaedeutic to liberal education as such, and by exhibiting practically a class of my own invention that has prepared our weakest students at the University of Dallas for our demanding Core curriculum: The Seven Arts of Language.

No Certain Sanctuary: The Human Limits of the Humanities in Evelyn Waugh’s Scott-King’s Modern Europe
At the conclusion of Scott-King’s Modern Europe (1947), Evelyn Waugh’s eponymous classics master faces a brand of questioning all too familiar to our STEM-centred present. Noting that the school Scott-King has served for twenty-one years will have “fifteen fewer classical specialists” next term (88), the headmaster limns a near-future of no classics students at all and nudges his colleague toward more marketable subjects. After all, he explains, educators cannot ignore the simple fact that “Parents are not interested in producing the ‘complete man’ any more. They want to qualify their boys for jobs in the modern world. You can hardly blame them, can you?” (88). Yet the usually retiring Scott-King offers a surprising answer: “I can and do” (88). Though there may be no better market for the complete man in his post-war Britain than there is in contemporary North America, Scott-King is resolute. He will teach the mother of the humanities until there’s no one left to teach, and he will do so as a matter of principle: “I think it would be very wicked indeed to do anything to fit a boy for the modern world” (89). This, he insists, is “the most long-sighted view it is possible to take” (89). Thus granted the book’s final words, unassuming Scott-King emerges as a defender of humanistic education in the face of crude demands for practical skills training. In Michael Brennan’s view, this constitutes nothing less than Waugh’s own ringing defense of the last “vestiges of Christian civilization” (95), in the face an ascendant Western secularism.
It’s true that the ideal of the “complete man” and the aesthetic achievements of antiquity are taken seriously by this self-described “light tale” (Scott-King 86). Dedicated custodian of past greatness, Scott-King possesses, as Martin Stannard observes, admirable virtues: “scholarship, loyalty, and the strength to stand alone in the fight for civilization” (176). These merits, all revealed in his vocation as a humanities teacher, are made still more compelling by being contrasted with evils that characterize that Modern Europe his headmaster seems ready to accommodate. Exemplified by Neutralia, “a typical modern state, governed by a single party, acclaiming a dominant Marshal, supporting a vast ill-paid bureaucracy” (6), the results-obsessed modern world is defined by hopelessly repeated carnage. Scott-King’s Neutralian sojourn sees him tour where “the anarchists shot General Cardenas” and where the “syndico-radicalists shot the auxiliary bishop” (23). Thus the modernity against which Scott-King takes his stand is a worldliness that would substitute power for knowledge, “always more police, more prisons, more hangings” for cultural transmission or aspiration (41).
Yet if Waugh wishes to defend a humanistic heritage from that modern world, Douglas Patey is wrong to suggest that Scott-King embodies the values of his creator (266). Scott-King longs to retreat from an uncultured present, but having no alternative to modern brutishness than a devotion to past masterworks, he is left with a more despairing end than even he realizes. Like Arnold before him, Scott-King worships the Hellenistic tradition of “the best which has been thought and said” (11). He understands his calling as Arnold’s “study of perfection” as this latter is embodied in the self-sufficient realm of culture (77). This leads Scott-King to seek his rescue from a debased modern world in the world itself; he only clings to what he deems a more perfect past. But Waugh’s text underscores for us something Scott-King never discovers. Whereas he deems his classics the antithesis of Neutralia’s barbaric modernity, Waugh’s novella reveals, first, that the utopian humanism of Scott-King’s early-modern hero, Bellorius, is itself essential to Modern Europe’s horrors, and second, that this is so because that faith in culture’s redemptive power Scott-King shares with his idol itself demands the supremacy of a fallen humanity. Unlike the Roman Catholic Waugh, Scott-King is a humanist devoted only to a worldly ideal; he is therefore deaf to the urgent call to religious devotion Waugh sees as more antithetical and resistant to Neutralian evil than Scott-King’s beloved hexameters. With nothing but these to revere, Scott-King can only despair, conceding not just the decline of civilization but the death of his discipline itself. In this way, Waugh teaches that a Humanities curriculum without belief will neither meaningfully defend the world, nor long defend itself, from a rising Philistinism whose wages extend well beyond the aesthetic, a lesson we present-day defenders of the humanities might do well to ponder.

Leadership, Ethics, and Higher Education
Does higher education merely provide students with the technical requirements for jobs, or can it attempt to infuse them with values and competencies related to leadership and ethical behavior? Can such values and competencies be taught? Some studies show that students’ inclinations toward ethical leadership even go the wrong direction when they are educated in university programs in business and economics. Drumwright’s presentation will examine interdisciplinary approaches to infusing higher education with values and competencies related to leadership and ethics.

Faith Informed Practice: How the Integration of Faith and Learning Influences Pedagogy
The purpose of this study was to better understand faculty members’ interpretation of faith-integration as a practice of teaching in the classroom. The relationship between faith and learning has continuously prompted scholars to study the phenomenon of its unity in the classroom. However, the research surrounding faculty teaching practices or techniques of faith-integration, is insufficiently existent. Practices of scholarship are the most common forms of what scholars and researchers believe is faith-integration at work. While faith and learning integration resulting in scholarship does offer insight into the ways faculty members pursue a holistic way of life, scholarship is limited to a rather narrow segment of the total faculty experience. What practices of scholarship do not typically include are the methods, styles, and tangible ways that faculty members incorporate faith-integration in both their lives and their classrooms.
The findings of this study provide a model that illustrates the application of integrating faith and learning as more than an understanding of scholarship, and even more than methods and classroom pedagogy. Rather, the model represents how faith-integration is a collaborative effort that results in an understanding of a broader lifestyle of faith and learning among faculty participants. This study also provides a context for how faith and learning function in relationship to one another and manifest through expressions of practice both in and out of the classroom.
The findings do not prescribe a specific formula for integrating faith and learning, however, the model demonstrates how various components of a faculty member’s life speak into the expression of faith-integration as a practice of teaching. The model may help faculty members learn to appreciate their own faith experiences and understand how they might interpret that expression of faith-integration as a classroom practice. The study also encourages institutions of higher education to think about how to navigate and invite conversations about faith-integration onto college campuses. Providing a different narrative for interpreting faith-integration as a part of classroom teaching practices could positively affect how faculty development programs encourage their colleagues to incorporate their faith in their teaching practices.

Is Our Well Poisoned?: A Historical/Economic Analysis of Christian Higher Education in Nigeria
Higher education right from ancient times to our contemporary time has been full of challenges in all areas. All countries in our global community have one form of story or another to tell in the area of education and most especially higher education. Just as higher education in America is in the midst of profound challenge and transformation so is the situation in some other countries of the world. The world today seems to be more interested in science and technology and believes that other areas of education are not important. It is a truism that in most of American Universities and Colleges political conflict and social unrest have been especially visible indicating some of the signs of change and stress. In Nigeria, the situation is not too different as almost all higher institutions which include Universities, Polytechnics and Colleges of Education are bedevilled with all kinds of political conflict and acts of cultism which always result in violence among students.
This paper asked a fundamental question "is our well poisoned?" and thereafter the paper explored the historical/economic analysis of Christian higher education in Nigeria. The question "is our well poisoned?" is asked from the point of view of the "well" being used as a symbol in this work. In the ancient world and in many developing countries today the well provides a source of water for many. If the well which is one source of getting water is poisoned it certainly deprives many from getting water which is used for so many purposes in various societies. This question is asked against the backdrop of how education started in Nigeria through various Christian missionary bodies from different parts of Europe and America. During the era of the early Christian missionaries in Nigeria, most of the schools built were under the management of the Christian foreign missionaries. During the period, education was given freely to the people without the missionaries thinking of economic gains. The absence of institutions of higher learning in Nigeria during the missionary era prompted the missionaries to send young promising Nigerians to Europe and America for higher studies. Such educated elites eventually became the harbingers of higher education and political leadership in post colonial Nigeria.
Nigeria today can boast of several institutions of higher learning though not as many as those in America. Many of such institutions are government owned while some others are owned and managed by religious bodies such as Christianity and Islam. When reference is made in this work to higher educational institutions we shall focus on Christian established educational institutions.
Our aim in this paper is to assess the quality of higher educational institutions in Nigeria and their availability to the children of both the affluent and the poor persons in our society. But it is common knowledge that many higher educational institutions in Nigeria are not only poorly funded but are mostly attended by the children of the poor while those in political leadership as well as the affluent send their kids for higher education in Europe and America. Even in the Christian educational institutions which are most times better funded than those owned by the government, the fees are often too high for the poor. The implication is that only the kids of the very rich get to attend such schools. Which brings us again to the question "is our well poisoned?" If the foreign missionaries in the past could make sacrifices for the development of Nigeria why can the Christian higher educational institutions not do the same? This and other questions shall be analysed in this paper. The research methodology consist of a combination of socio – historical and evaluative approaches

The Theater of Life and an Apologia for the Liberal Arts
As a whole, contemporary higher learning in the United States has become increasingly hostile to a classical liberal arts education, preferring instead specialized and science-based training on the one hand and various forms of ideological indoctrination (especially concerning race and gender) on the other. While such approaches can be valuable in preparing students for professional life, they do little to prepare them for what we may call the theater of life. This ill-preparedness, among other things, leaves today’s students particularly vulnerable to contemporary social forms of theatricality in the pejorative sense, especially narcissism and what J. Elsner terms the “panopticon of spectatorship.”
In my presentation, I propose to examine the concept of the theater of life and why it is important by drawing from the works of Aristotle, St. Augustine, and St. Thomas More. Second, I will examine the liberal arts and explain how they encourage a healthy performance in this theater. Third, I will contrast this performance with the forms of theatricality-in-life that are rampant today thanks to poor education and social media: specifically, narcissism and seeing oneself as enveloped within a panopticon of spectatorship. Based on these considerations, I will conclude that the liberal arts may in some respects be more essential to our students and to society than ever before.

Incarnational Interpretation: Hope for Hermeneutics
The American secular research university is a global branding success story despite being an embattled model of higher education. It faces enduring questions about the compatibility of research and undergraduate instruction, the over-production of PhDs, and even its ability to prevent sexual assaults upon students. Most urgently, the vision of liberal learning that has provided the traditional anchor to the higher education curriculum faces a double challenge: the technocratic STEM fields call into question its practicality and economic viability, while the synergies between left-wing activist politics and globalization have delegitimized a focus on Western heritage.
The tension between practical and whimsical models of liberal education is at least as old as modernity; Laurence Veysey's The Emergence of the American University documents just how early this conflict of vision arises in the history of the American college. Since John Henry Newman, Christians have ably argued that modern higher education needs theology to fulfill even its own aims. And surely the Christian tradition, capable of valuing more even in the material world than productivity and wealth, can offer a deeper understanding of education as preparation for life.
I attempt a partial diagnosis of the second aspect of the contemporary crisis, that of the collapse of a shared language. I do not refer simply to the lack of mutually intelligible assumptions about human goods that Alisdair MacIntyre-most famously in After Virtue, but I will focus on his account in Dependent Rational Animals has analyzed. The problem goes deeper, too, than the loss of a set of common reference points that the Greco-Roman classics-based traditional curriculum instilled. No doubt it is a tragedy that Odysseus and Richard III are no longer familiar names for all undergraduates, even at elite institutions. But the loss of confidence in a common Western heritage is downstream from a more radical agnosticism about the possibility of a common humanity.
Contemporary undergraduate identity politics assumes a radical opacity of experience. Following Derrida's critique of ‘logocentrism,' it has asserted that the only access to truth stems from particular embodied histories of trauma. The suspicion of metanarratives and universalistic claims that this produces has become a familiar part of academic discourse. But less well-understood is the relationship of this epistemic theory to the claims to moral authority predicated on victimhood that have become so characteristic of recent campus rhetoric over safe spaces and microaggressions, rhetoric carefully documented in Bradley Campbell and Jason Manning's "Microaggressions and Moral Cultures."
The fundamental materialism of this focus on bodies gendered and racialized calls into question the communicability and legibility of experience. The fundamental enterprise of literary study both requires and develops a set of virtues that translate well to friendship and civil society. True reading requires coming humbly to a text, laying aside one's own prejudices and priorities, ready to be mentally and emotionally re-shaped, however slightly, by the story (for even the driest argument tells the story of a series of cognitive processes) contained therein. As in the process of sincere listening, or sincere debate over the common good, judgments of the truthfulness of the text must be reserved for after the humble, incarnational task of seeking to understand.
Christianity, of course, has some expertise in cultivating incarnational virtues, and if Christian reflection ever strays very far from the Incarnation it ceases to be Christian. The entire New Testament depends upon the possibility of God's self-revelation in Christ; the Christian's "hope of glory" depends upon the legibility of the Word. As "people of the Book," Christian educators must remain confident that human beings can, albeit very imperfectly, communicate and read one another's experience. In pedagogy, they must cultivate the necessary virtues in their students. In so doing, they will render their students capable of deeper friendships and offer a fractured civil society hope of healing.
I will focus on the implications of this vision for the two disciplines I know best, English literature and history. The first requires legibility as a premise, although it has had its confidence shaking in the post-deconstruction era. The second is inherently a cross-cultural enterprise, a quixotic attempt to enter into the experience of people long dead. The study of Scripture and the praxis of Christian liturgy has the potential to reinvigorate both.

Relational Natural Law and the Modern Multi-versity
In this paper I propose an extension of natural law principles from instances of a species and individuals to different types of relationships between individuals and groups, and then make use of that idea as a historical analytic for understanding the deformations typical of modern universities. Borrowing from recent insights offered by Manchester sociologists on long standing debates regarding social structure and personal agency, we can understand institutions of human society, whether families, businesses, guilds, nation states, hospitals or universities, as peculiar congeries of certain types of human relationships. If people, both individually and corporately, have a telos deriving from their nature as bounded by the accidents of birth, then so do our relationships and social institutions. Extending natural law teleology to such interconnections allows for the application of a genetic metaphor to organizations. In this metaphor, human relational webs have moments of birth or genesis which entail codes of development peculiar to that institution, codes which can either develop properly or be corrupted in a variety of ways over time. This approach can afford scholars a historically geared and theologically anchored analytic for understanding educational institutions and for reforming those institutions.
Among many others we could look to John Milton's tractate On Education, originally appended to his Paradise Regained, as a clear statement within the Christian tradition on what we should be doing as members of a university: "The end then of learning is to repair the ruins of our first parents by regaining to know God aright, and out of that knowledge to love him, to imitate him, to be like him." The point of the university is therefore to enable its teachers and students, by means of the moral formation accomplished through the power relationships peculiar to genuine academic disciplines, to love God and neighbor better by cultivating the more accurate image of Christ in one another. The university, itself a development of monastic ecclesiastical scriptoria and schools, should therefore work all things to this goal, and do so, moreover, in fashions recognizable and organically related to its origins in Paris, Bologna and Oxford in the twelfth century. To restate by negative: producing democratic citizens, training technologically savvy laborers, or competing in a cutthroat market of academic publishing and prestige, cannot be the point of higher education. Certain of these aims may involve subsidiary goods, but only that.
Modern universities do not typically acknowledge the inculcation of virtue as their telos, and they certainly are not able to state clearly the hopes or ends of their existence. Unfortunately, it appears that Baylor's own striving to mimic prestigious research universities has clouded our own hopes and made us in many ways indistinguishable from other colleges. To Baylor's credit, the architects of Baylor 2012 leveled a serious and thoughtful opposition to the process of secularization, in which modernistic propositions regarding the incompatibility of faith and reason are given concrete expression through the severing of colleges from their founding churches and the consequent loss of distinctive Christian identity. Using this relational analytic in an inquiry into her history, however, indicates that Baylor dodged secularization only to appropriate another common institutional model and process alien to its own historical genesis and telos, i.e., corporatization.
Corporatization, to continue the genetic metaphor, is one process whereby the business world's relational DNA is injected into another institution of unrelated historical genesis. We only need to consider megachurches, modern hospitals or the music industry to find other recent products of this modernizing process. In terms of higher education, acquiescing to this process has created what Clark Kerr named the "multi-versity," a conglomerate of unrelated schools with no unified or unifying purpose, a tool designed to realize liberal progressive hopes, a model that now more than ever is planned and assessed using metrics of quality and productivity borrowed directly from Wall Street and Wal-Mart. Using the relational analytic outlined above, I will make a historical case study of Baylor in order to trace how it has joined other American universities in appropriating this model, as well as examine other developments in earlier university history that appear better related to its genesis so as to sketch alternative models and propose more organic developmental paths.

“The Contemporary Liberal Arts Are Overrated: Searching for a Higher Education that Treats Us as More than Bags of Capacities”
Although the concept of a liberal arts education has existed for over fifteen hundred years, the way scholars describe its purpose continually changes. The most recent method of justifying the liberal arts today appears to focus upon the need to develop individual “capacities” that society finds useful. For instance, in an article in The Atlantic, entitled, “The Future of College?” the author quotes the founder and CEO of a new on-line university, Minerva, who makes the claim, “Liberal-arts education is about developing the intellectual capacity of the individual, and learning to be a productive member of society.” Broad justifications appealing to language about developing human capacities that help society should not be surprising since within higher education deep disagreement reigns among faculty and administrators about human nature and human flourishing. Consequently, fewer and fewer rationales for supporting a liberal education with any particular substance will appeal to a broad range of people. In this paper I use Michael Roth’s book, Beyond the University: Why Liberal Education Matters as an example. Claiming that a liberal arts education enhances human capacities that serve society, whatever they may be, offends no one and appeals to everyone.
Sometimes Christians defending a liberal arts education join this type of justificatory chorus in order to increase their institution’s survival and defend what they are teaching. They may become a bit more specific about the capacity, but the appeals remain safely general. History, they contend, enhances our capacity for empathy. Philosophy improves our capacity for critical thinking and taking new perspectives. And the general defenses go on and on in this manner. Strikingly, these defenses avoid theological references in favor of general reasons they hope will appeal to everyone (or at least a wide range of future students).
In the current context, however, I contend that Christians should spend less time trying to defend a liberal education by appealing to random human capacities that need to be enhanced in order to serve society. A Christian vision must begin with the type of specificity that will prove offensive to many contemporaries. The reason is that our understanding of what comprises a liberal arts education stems from our different starting point. If a liberal arts education is indeed the education for a free person, a Christian vision of a liberal arts education must begin and end with the Christian theological narrative that reminds us who we are, what it means to be a slave, and the liberating arts that help one become free. Only when a person experiences those particular liberating arts from the Liberating Artist can he or she properly understand and benefit from a particular kind of liberal arts education.
This distinction between the liberating arts and the liberal arts proves vitally important. We should not expect the liberal arts to liberate us. Augustine provides a helpful historical example of someone who experienced this distorting education. Augustine famously recalls in the Confessions how his early liberal arts education merely amplified his enslavement. In his situation, the supposed liberal arts actually became powerful instruments for enhancing misdirected desires that result in pride, envy, lust and more.
The liberal arts cease to be liberal if they do not help humans cultivate and expand our understanding, experience and imitation of the triune God, especially God’s wisdom, holiness and grace, Christ’s humility and redemptive love, and the fruits of the Spirit. A Christian understanding of the liberal arts, therefore, must begin with a theology that teaches the core of what liberates—the truth about our identity as image bearers of God and the truth of how Christ’s life, death and resurrection allows us to fully bear that image. We need the Liberating Artist or writer of this story. In and through Christ and through God’s spirit, we can bear the triune God’s image and practice what truly liberates: worship and love of God, holiness, wisdom, patience, servanthood, forgiveness and humility."

Searching for a map out of utility: How outcomes data can resource our conversation about Christian higher education
Christian universities in Canada and the US face similar trends regarding declining enrolment and challenges to their institutional religious freedom. Yet despite this, recent data from the 2014 Cardus Education Survey (CES) reveals that graduates of K-12 Christian schools in the United States are still twice as likely to attend a religious college or university as a public one (Cardus Education Survey, US, 2014). What’s intriguing here is that contrary to the public narrative, the CES data—which isolates for shool effect—suggests that Christian K-12 institutions continue to cultivate a sense of the importance of Christian education at a postsecondary level.
Such data is also helpful when culled from the postsecondary alumni. For example, preliminary analysis of the American CES data suggests that the Christian liberal arts universities may have a distinctly measurable sector effect on graduate outcomes including, but not limited to, academic attainment and income levels (unpublished data Cardus Religious Schools Initiative, The University of Notre Dame, 2015). This paper argues that any discussion about the future of Christian higher education could be well supported by the collection and public dissemination of credible data provided it is underpinned by a robust theological and theoretical framework capable of taking into account mission integrity and the limits and opportunities of measuring graduate outcomes.
The objective of this paper is to set out a potential route map for surveying graduate outcomes based on the very successful study of North American religious school effects that Cardus already delivers for K-12 education via its research partnership with the University of Notre Dame. Conversations in the public square about education inevitably focus on the academic outcomes and earning potential associated with different education sectors. Such a utilitarian view of the purpose of education, whether at K-12 or in the higher education sector, should be deeply problematic for Christian institutions of learning; yet the temptation is to capitulate to this data as a defense for institutional distinction within the marketplace (Green, E. & Cooling T., 2009). While the cultural story for higher education undoubtedly has its own unique dimensions, there are significant overlaps with the conversation around educational diversity and outcomes being held within K-12 systems. Cardus is seeking to change the conversation about what education is for, and thereby how it is measured and what outcomes matter for Christian K-12 education. In this we draw both on James K.A. Smith’s (2009) work on the significance of cultural liturgies for how we learn and on James Davison-Hunter’s (2010) model of cultural change.
This paper forms three parts, first it tells a short research story of the Cardus Education Survey to illustrate how it is possible to build a theological framework for this kind of educational measurement and how best to implement a dissemination strategy seeking to practice a formational account of cultural change. (The Cardus Education Survey collects data about where respondents went to University making it possible to offer some sense of the potential of surveying post-secondary graduates in this manner.) The second part of the paper offers a very partial analysis of some of the things we know already about the graduates of Christian universities in Canada and the US and the relationship between K-12 Christian education and higher education. Finally, it poses some questions around the data we have and what we might still need, arguing that it is time to think about collecting data across the whole educational experience, k-12 through to post-secondary.

Abolition of Citizens: C.S. Lewis, Liberal Arts, and American Political Order
In the rancor, discord, and tumult of American political discourse many believe something has shifted, or been lost. One question that emerges is whether America’s education system is producing citizens capable of sound deliberation or good governance? Put another way, is it generating a citizenry that can sustain a republic?
This paper will argue that the liberal arts form of education outlined in C.S. Lewis’ Abolition of Man exemplifies the form of education needed to foster citizens who in turn are capable of sustaining a liberal democratic order.
In the American political tradition there is a common theme that a liberal democracy must, in some part, rest on a moral, knowledgeable, and legally principled people. This theme runs throughout the writings of the Founding generation and beyond. For example, famously, in George Washington’s farewell address he argues that…“Of all the dispositions and habits which lead to political prosperity, religion and morality are indispensable supports.” Furthermore he says, “’Tis substantially true, that virtue or morality is a necessary spring of popular government…Promote then as an object of primary importance, Institutions for the general diffusion of knowledge. In proportion as the structure of a government gives force to public opinion, it is essential that public opinion should be enlightened…” In the Northwest Ordinance passed by the first Congress of the United States, it reads, “Religion, morality, and knowledge, being necessary to good government and the happiness of mankind, schools and the means of education shall forever be encouraged.” Lastly, in his Lyceum address, Abraham Lincoln argued that the “edifice of liberty” must be maintained by “general intelligence”, “sound morality”, and a “general reverence for the Constitution and the laws”. These quotes merely scratch the surface of the immense number of examples of this common argument in the early years of the republic and beyond.
Despite this tradition, many contemporaries seem not find this nexus between morality, education, and political prosperity obvious, let alone self-evident. Many see education and moral training as separate and distinct projects, while others would argue that morality only distorts good politics or vice versa.
In Abolition of Man C.S. Lewis presents a view of man and education that largely shows why this nexus between moral education, knowledge, and political order is important. He does not do so explicitly however, which is where this paper picks up the baton as it were. This paper will attempt to show why a liberal democratic order, and especially the American political order, needs an education that shapes and forms not only the minds, but more importantly the moral sentiments, and therefore the moral judgments, of its people. As C.S. Lewis shows, modern variants of education fail in essential ways to produce fully formed human beings. Such failure fatally undermines the type of citizen needed to sustain the democratic experiment in the United States. The core principles of the American order can only be sustained by a citizenry with correctly formed sentiments that recognize a duty to an order outside of themselves, the general ability to preserve the moral principles and habits upon which the American regime rests, to produce laws whose moral content leans towards justice, and the moral courage fight the battles needed to sustain the moral political order.
To complete this task the paper will develop three elements. First, is a clear understanding of the type of moral education C.S. Lewis recommends and a clear understanding of the type of education Lewis seeks to avoid. Second, a delineation of exactly how the right educational principles can sustain a liberal democratic regime and how the wrong ones can undermine it. Third, it will provide examples on where the contemporary political right and left are undermining education in a manner that threatens the health of liberal democracy and how such departures may often result in the “Abolition of Citizens.”

Magnanimity, Higher Education, and Me: Notes to Myself About What I Still Want to Believe and Be
At the conclusion of his wonderful book, Higher education as a moral enterprise (1992), Edward Long, Jr. writes: "Learning belongs to the leavening and sensitizing dimensions of public life. It is at its best when it enlarges horizons, magnifies the capacity for empathy, commends the importance of dialogue, and recommits us to the search for life in working viability with others..." (221). Earlier in the book, he compelling calls those who would teach to embrace "fairness as the cardinal quality," both with respect to "the presentation of issues" and to the "treatment of others." (150-151) For Long, "great teaching presupposes character." (151)
Similar themes are picked up in Paul Wadell's recent "An itinerary of hope: Called to a magnanimous way of life." (2016) For Wadell, in inviting students to examine social life and their daily living of it in all of its dimensions, teachers are "...summon[ing] [students] to a magnanimous way of life." (194) Wadell concludes his essay by saying that: "No matter what the particular callings of our lives might be, answering the call of the good is every person's vocation. Only by taking this path do we experience a truly fulfilling journey and a truly fulfilled life--for it provides us with an itinerary of unabashed hope." (215)
I want to be on that path. And, amidst the contemporary challenges of the academy--college costs, student debt, differentiated graduation rates, commodification, shrinking state budgets, athletic scandals, and more--the reminders that Long and Wadell offer are personally encouraging and professionally motivating. For many years now, I have attempted to teach graduate students to understand and face these challenges while simultaneously encouraging them to never lose heart in doing so. Relatedly, in some of my own past experiences, I am quite well aware that facing challenges and maintaining commitment and energy in addressing them can be tough sledding indeed.
With all of this as backdrop, I intend this self-reflective paper as an attempt to remind myself (and hopefully others) of why it may be that I do what I do as an educator in the midst of what can feel regularly like tumultuous times, and to redouble my efforts to embrace certain virtues while eschewing others. I have come to believe that such reminders are critical to the pursuit of the enduring task and to the enduring joy of higher education.

Social Work: The Integration of Faith and Practice
"The role of religion and spirituality in social work practice has fluctuated significantly through the years. From the religious beliefs of Jane Addams, founder of the settlement movement to the denominational affiliations of early children’s homes, social services in the United States included religious ties (Garland & Yancey, 2014). “As early as the 1700s, a parallel development of church related and secular private charities occurred in the United States (Ellor, Netting, & Thibault, 1999, p. 161). Keith-Lucas (1985) found that most social work practice was affiliated with religious entities until the late 1800s. The profession experienced a distancing from religion and spirituality and religion in the 1960s-1980s. The presenters’ social work education experience included instruction that there was no place for religion or spirituality in social work practice which is grounded in the behavioral sciences. In the past 25 years, the discussion around religion and spirituality in social work practice has included concern about the imposition of values and beliefs and the recognition that religion and spirituality are part of a client’s cultural experience (CSWE, 2008; APA, 2013; Dessel & Bolen, 2013). Keith-Lucas (1994) suggested that it is not only possible to integrate one’s faith or worldview into helping, it is integral, i.e. necessary. To fail to realize that is to miss an essential part of self-awareness in the helping process and a sensitivity to the client’s personal beliefs and resources. In 2012, Chamiec-Case posited that it is possible to ethically integrate faith and practice with self-awareness, a commitment to the client’s needs first, and a recognition of the complexity of agency background and policies. In the book of narratives of social work helping while integrating spirituality, Ables (2000) discusses both the beliefs of clients in the helping process and the spirituality of social workers and the impact of both on their interactions. Beyond the literature around the religion or spirituality of clients and of social work professionals, Territo and Cascio (2003) review the “historical role of religious/faith organizations in providing social services to those in need, to propose that religious faith organizations can assume this responsibility again in the 21st century” (p. xi).
In this interactive presentation, the discussion will center on one social work education program’s approach to the ethical integration of faith and practice, grounded in three principles:
1. The faith/spirituality/religion/worldview of the client matters. The client’s view of both challenges and resources and meaning making is an area of assessment and consideration in the social work helping process.
2. The faith/spirituality/religion/worldview of the practitioner matters. The social worker’s beliefs may be a source of motivation, inspiration and strength and conversely, may be a source of bias in service.
3. The organizational context of service delivery matters. Funding (public vs. private), organizational mission, and informed consent for religious affiliation impact services offered and the delivery of those services.
Consistent, rigorous evidence-based practice includes consideration of these factors in the ethical integration of faith and practice. The presentation will include discussion of applicable ethical principles and case application discussion."

Higher Learning in Low Places: Opportunities and Challenges of the Burgeoning Prison Seminary Movement
Christian education programs for prison inmates, especially bachelor’s degrees offered by seminaries, have burgeoned into a cottage industry over the past decade. Louisiana State Penitentiary at Angola pioneered seminary as a rehabilitative program in 1995, and Texas introduced an Angola-inspired model in 2008. Since then prison seminaries have become a national movement with programs now established or undergoing implementation in over a dozen states. Progressives welcome the influx of educational resources into these impoverished environments, while conservatives celebrate the privatization of rehabilitation through privately funded Christian education. Such rapid embrace and growth, however, has brought growing pains, and prison seminaries face a tenuous future.
This paper will explore both the rise of prison seminaries and the challenges that they now confront. The first section will survey the historical precedents for inmate religious education dating to the origins of the penitentiary and then give more careful attention specifically to the rise of modern prison seminaries in Louisiana, Texas, and beyond. The second section will consider the hurdles that the movement now faces, including questions of credibility, constitutionality, and cost. Finally, the conclusion will survey some possible prospects for the future of inmate Christian education.

Collaboration in Community: An Application of Diana Gyler's Theories of Influence to Higher Education
During this time of change in higher education, models from creative writing communities and spiritual fellowships can be fruitfully applied to academic collaboration. As institutions of higher learning seek to advance human flourishing in times of political conflict, social unrest, economic concerns, and skepticism of intellectual vocations, such models can provide more holistic formation for students and scholar-teachers. In her study "The Company They Keep: C. S. Lewis and J. R. R. Tolkien as Writers in Community" (2007) and her popular publication "Bandersnatch: C. S. Lewis, J. R. R. Tolkien, and the Creative Collaboration of the Inklings" (2016), Diana Pavlac Glyer suggests that writing groups can learn from how the Inklings influenced one another. Glyer builds upon Karen Burke LeFevre's work in "Invention as a Social Act" (1987). LeFevre and Glyer examine writing circles, such as the Bloomsbury Group, the Lost Generation, and the Oxford Inklings, to assess the mutual influence of members serving as resonators, opponents, editors, collaborators, and referents in and for each other's work. They persuasively argue that creativity flourishes in community, and their conclusions are borne out by other studies, such as "Collaborative Circles: Friendship Dynamics and Creative Work" by Michael P. Farrell (2003); "Creative Collaboration by Vera John-Steiner" (2006); and "Organizing Genius" by Warren Bennis and Patricia Ward Biederman (2007).
Academic collaboration has long been a standard practice. In recent years, the fields of Rhetoric and Composition and their pedagogical practice have begun to move toward greater cooperation among authors: witness the dialogic freshman writing method developed by Gerald Graff and Cathy Birkenstein Graff ("They Say, I Say: The Moves That Matter in Academic Writing"; (2009). Students, too, then, are invited to join an ongoing conversation about topics that matter to them, rather than writing in isolation.
Students and professionals working in academia still have much to learn from studies of creative writing groups and spiritual fellowships. Faith-based colleges and universities, in particular, can apply the principles of the hermeneutics of friendship and theologies of communities to the ways in which scholars work together. Hans-Georg Gadamer's philosophy of conversation and Hannah Arendt's politics of friendship might lend further depth as Christian scholars move beyond the anxiety of influence into deeply communal modes of spiritual and authorial formation. Personal and institutional practices of small-group writing workshops and vocationally-focused prayer can be adopted as means of further destabilizing the binaries of creative vs. academic writing and sacred vs. secular vocations.
As a committed Christian, a practicing creative writer, an actively-publishing literary academic, a student, a teacher, Chair of a graduate Language & Literature Department (at Signum University), and the host of a workshop group (called Ekphrasis: Fellowship of Christians in the Arts), I believe that I can offer insights in way to weave together these three different threads in theory and praxis: one: creative collaboration; two: dialogic approaches in rhetoric and composition; three: the hermeneutics of friendship. Responding to Diana Glyer's two recent books, I will endeavor to offer ideas about how these can come together in the formation of writer-scholar-teachers who will flourish in the future of Christian higher education.

Para-University Institutions in the Service of Higher Learning
This presentation will aim, first, to make faculty and administrators in universities and colleges aware of the independent centers of Christian study that are appearing alongside university and college campuses, and second, to encourage the leaders of these emerging, para-university institutions to recognize the potential for collaborating with their neighboring institutions of higher education in ways that serve the common good and promote the flourishing of higher learning. While para-church organizations support and extend the work of the church in the lives of college students, Christian study centers are emerging quite distinctly as para-university institutions that support and extend the work of higher learning and of the universities and colleges they serve.
As James Davison Hunter has pointed out, innovative institutions such as the informal academies of the early modern era have played a far more significant role in shaping culture than might be expected. As independent centers of study that are free from government control, church control, and university control, these emerging para-university institutions are free to work creatively and collaboratively with their neighboring universities. At a time when universities are seeking to cross the town/gown divide and are welcoming collaborations with their respective communities, furthermore, these centers now enjoy a unique opportunity to represent their communities and to support the institutions of higher learning with which they are associated. Like the informal academies of the seventeenth century, today's centers of Christian study can instantiate Christian theological reflection and provide a "faithful [thoughtful] Christian presence" in just the manner to which Hunter calls us.
These centers also typically participate in the thick, formative networks to which Hunter points. Not only are the centers connected to their neighboring institutions of higher learning, they are also connected to each other, in large part through the Consortium of Christian Study Centers, and they often give birth to organizations and initiatives that serve not only at the university and college level but also in primary and secondary education and in the non-profit world. Our own center has its roots in the Institute for Advanced Study in Culture at the University of Virginia, where the Study Center's current director served as a fellow for six years. While we do not pretend to be an institute of advanced study, we are very pleased with the ways that the Institute in Charlottesville has shaped our own vision.
This presentation will offer several examples of how the Christian Study Center of Gainesville, Florida, has been able to collaborate with the University of Florida, contribute to its intellectual life, support the beleaguered Humanities, and seek the common good of the university community. This presentation will also briefly describe current efforts to thicken our institutional ties with centers, programs, and academic departments, and with the faculty and administrators who run these entities at the University of Florida. We have been very encouraged by the personal ties that have developed over the past fifteen years, and we are deliberately seeking to thicken the institutional dimension of these ties with what is obviously the most central player in our institutional network.
Christian Study Centers occupy a unique space in the world of higher learning, but if they are to do more than influence the hearts and minds of young people, the leaders of these emerging centers need to recognize the potential for working collaboratively with the faculty and administrators of the universities they serve. By taking contemporary scholarship seriously, while also exploring the intellectual and cultural resources of the Christian tradition in a scholarly manner, these centers can create spaces of genuine academic freedom in which to encourage their colleagues in higher education to address a broad range of enduring, shared, human questions in the service of higher learning and the common good.

Indirect Communication Off the Quad: Kierkegaard and Public Scholarship
Increasingly, institutions of higher learning are striving to foster public engagement. As loci of public knowledge and discourse, colleges and universities seek not only to foster the development of their student communities but of the public community more broadly construed. The initiatives inspired by this goal take various forms, including public lectures, installations, and, more recently, online materials. These forms of public engagement can present new information, introduce citizens to the contours of ongoing debates and scholarship, and generally extend the education students receive to the public. In this paper, I examine the possibilities for another function, inspired by Kierkegaard's diagnosis of a crisis of culture in his own context, and his self-conscious response as confronting this crisis indirectly. Kierkegaard's account of indirect communication allows an expansive conception of how universities might pursue public engagement.
Kierkegaard argues that "indirect communication" is an appropriate method for confronting an "illusion." In his case, the illusion involves living one form of life while claiming or understanding it for another. Citizens in 19th century Copenhagen, per Kierkegaard, understood themselves as religious without "living out" the truth of Christianity. In response, Kierkegaard maintains that his directly confronting the supposedly illused, arguing that they are not Christians, more deeply entrenches the illusion. Instead, Kierkegaard argues that removing an illusion demands that we take it seriously and present our work according to its norms. By adopting the perspective of those confusing one form of life for another and performing its inconsistencies, a large portion of Kierkegaard's corpus can be seen as indirectly confronting this widely shared illusion. In this pseudonymous literature, Kierkegaard's work has a performative aspect, inviting readers to inhabit different points of view and thereby challenging illusions indirectly. Moreover, Kierkegaard couples this work with scathing and incisive work published in more popular outlets. While himself a public intellectual engaged in criticism of the state and its church, Kierkegaard worked outside the institutional arrangements of the university. Thus, drawing on the events of his own life and engagement provide an imperfect springboard for institutions to expand conceptions of public engagement. Nonetheless, his work invites colleges to consider public scholarship in terms of confronting illusions through a kind of performance.
Kierkegaard provides both a critique of public scholarship and a resource. As a critic, his work calls for scholars to assess how public work is appropriated by citizens. Direct communication is, at times, ineffective, insofar widely accepted interpretive frameworks enable people to dismiss counterevidence and criticism. As a resource, Kierkegaard enables institutions to ask whether we are subject to culturally compelling illusions. Do we endorse and claim a form of life that is foreign to how we actually live and our actual values? What illusions do we suffer? Further, Kierkegaard's work motivates considering what it would mean for an institution to undermine a culturally dominant illusion. His strategy has a participatory element, constructing points of view that simultaneously engage the reader while revealing the incoherence of a form of life. Inspired by Kierkegaard, universities might consider devoting resources to scholarship incorporating this performative aspect. Doing so promises to expand the kinds of materials and works that serve a public function. The Kierkegaardian project also requires a number of ancillary projects, including diagnoses of socially entrenched beliefs, and analyses of effective performances.
Thus, though Kierkegaard works outside, and is deeply critical, of an institutional context, his own attempt at serving a public function indirectly should prompt those of us concerned with public scholarship in our institutions to ask what lessons his work might offer for institutions of higher education. How might colleges and universities understand their functions regarding public scholarship in light of this emphasis on indirect communication and the social function of confronting illusions? In light of Kierkegaard's on indirect communication more broadly, I suggest that Kierkegaard offers a framework through which institutions might re-cast their function as loci of public discourse. Kierkegaard presents a unique figure for thinking through possibilities for institutional public engagement as indirect communication.

Beyond Bathrooms: A Facilitated Dialogue on Speaking into Students’ Sexual/Gender Identity Formation at Faith-Based Institutions
Society is changing rapidly. Today’s cultural perspectives on human sexuality are no exception. Consequently, the government has put institutions of higher learning on notice that gender identity, along with sexual orientation, are protected under Title IX legislation. A recent example of this shift is the May 13, 2016 Dear Colleague Letter that provided “significant guidance” on how institutions receiving federal funding should create policies and environments where students are treated equitably without regard to their sex, including their internal sense of gender. This document has ramifications for college and university policies related to bathrooms, personal pronouns, personal information, and residential living, among others.
As persons and institutions that seek to embody the unconditional love and compassion of Jesus Christ, how are we to respond? How do policies and procedures reflect a redemptive space for all students while affirming our commitment to institutional statements of faith? What do forthcoming changes mean for creedal and confessional institutions? How might the ideal of higher learning be articulated to meet these challenges?
This session will
(a.) engage participants in seminal and emerging literature around the evolving conversation of college students’ sexual and gender identity,
(b.) discuss how different institutions are currently responding,
(c.) facilitate dialogue around how institutions with a religious identity can approach and create space for this conversation on their campuses now and in the future, and
(d.) engage participants in the articulation and assemblage of ideas and recommendations drawn from the dialogue regarding how faith-based institutions can embrace this challenging and important area of students’ formation on their campuses.
Other questions we may consider are: How does this conversation contribute to or distract from the goal of higher learning? In what ways might engaging conversations of human sexuality contribute to meeting the goals of intellectual, moral, and spiritual formation of students and the common good? How might constructive and difficult conversations at institutions with a religious identity and mission exemplify an attractive yet faithful presence to the larger culture?
We believe there are real answers to these questions for each of our institutions, but we also contend that engaging in this type of dialogue is in some ways more valuable than our answers to those questions. Courageously and charitably engaging this dialogue as colleagues at the Baylor Symposium of Faith and Culture will help equip each of us to facilitate conversations with our students and policy-makers as we return to our own campuses.

Coming to Terms: The Value of Spiritual Identity and Autobiography in the Composition Classroom
Composition classrooms are often places where diverse students come together outside of their degree coursework and the massive lecture halls of other general education requirements. This diversity and intimacy provides the potential for a unique classroom community, where students can be engaged personally and challenged to elucidate the story of themselves and their beliefs. Finding those words can be difficult, though, as both writing and language—academic and otherwise—are influenced by students’ cultural, educational, and personal backgrounds.
Scholarship in rhetoric and composition pedagogy has been clear: every element of a student’s background should be welcomed into the composition classroom. Students must be engaged as whole persons, including the gender, sexuality, race/ethnicity, socio-economic and socio-cultural underpinnings that compose their unique perspectives. Yet at times, one aspect of students’ lives is left out of the diversity discussion: religious and spiritual commitments.
Some professors are more comfortable approaching other identity components than they are engaging students on a spiritual level, and others are fully antagonistic toward any level of religious faith and rhetoric entering into their academic contexts (Anderson, Carter, Downs, Goodburn, Vander Lei, etc.). Recent scholarship has shown, however, that for many students to feel welcomed in the academy, they need to be able to display and discuss—not hide—their spiritual identities (Berthoff, Bizzell, DePalma, Ringer, Vander Lei, etc.). While many students desire instructors willing to acknowledge their spiritual lives and backgrounds (Freitas, Smith), further work must be done about how to actually engage these identities at a pedagogical level. T J Geiger, Mark Williams, Susan Schiller, Gesa Kirsch, and others have begun this work, sharing how their classrooms have addressed issues of the spirit: from translingualism, to civic engagement, to contemplative practice.
In this paper, I suggest broaching this subject in the university composition classroom through creative nonfiction, particularly spiritual autobiography. While the terminology describing this genre can be as fraught as the terminology describing spiritual and religious commitments, the openness of the genre to new forms and experiences creates a unique pedagogical opportunity. Spiritual autobiography provides students the opportunity to understand how other writers conceptualize their personal spiritual identities, often in unexpected and unconventional ways. Students then feel the freedom to explore terminology and ways of communication in order to evaluate their own spiritual or religious commitments. This practice of reading and writing spiritual autobiographies can take many forms – from “This I Believe” essays, to essays based around abstract concepts, to multimodal projects exploring spiritual objects or people who have been important to the writers. Giving students the opportunity to evaluate one’s self and beliefs in a context that is safe and yet challenges previously held concepts of religious language (which many millennial students chafe against anyway) can be a productive way for higher education to become potentially transformational for students.
Considering the spiritual lives of students often causes instructors some anxiety, as religion and faith continue to be topics fraught with political, social, and personal pitfalls. Scholars have written about their concerns, even at faith-based institutions like Baylor or other liberal arts universities, and the process should not be taken lightly, by either instructors or students. Yet research shows that students feel they would benefit from a higher education experience that includes acknowledgement of the spirit. Thus, a composition class that considers the spiritual identity of students, along with the other elements that make up their personal identities, is one that will assist students in learning to communicate their own spiritual commitments or lack thereof.
In this presentation, I will use research from recent studies (like the May 2015 U.S. Religious Landscape Study and the National Study of Youth and Religion) on emerging adult/millennial students and how they consider religious commitments, arguments by other academics for engaging in/avoiding this kind of work, and the power of spiritual autobiography, both in general and in the classroom. I will also use anecdotal research from my own classroom, where I have taught these genres, and the impact of these genres on my own students.

“Recovering the Christian Hospitality Tradition: Ancient Practice for the Contemporary Classroom”
Higher education in America is in the midst of profound transformation, but it is not clear what people expect colleges and universities to do in the first place. What is the goal of higher education? Questions like this assume special urgency when students enter our classrooms keenly aware of, and sometimes involved with, the political conflict and social unrest visible not only on the evening news, but on many college campuses. In this cultural climate, should universities primarily be devoted to job preparation for their graduates? There is certainly a tendency among students to view the aim of education in excessively utilitarian terms, but such an exaggerated emphasis on competitiveness and financial success can obscure the values and aims of humanistic education. As Parker J. Palmer and Arthur Zajonc maintain in The Heart of Higher Education: A Call to Renewal, somewhere along the way “the education of the whole human being in community and the cultivation of his or her humanity [has been] increasingly forgotten” (81-82).
Is there a way to avoid such distortion? A way to form students intellectually, morally, and even spiritually while preparing them for responsible citizenship (and a fulfilling career)? A way to present academic subjects with stress on uncovering and exploring the patterns, relationships, questions, insights, problems, solutions, and implications which a particular discipline brings to light about what it means to be a human being? How can higher education reclaim its work as carefully-reasoned investigation through which the student forms or reforms his or her habitual attitudes towards other people and the world? In order to explore these questions, this paper will examine the ancient tradition of Christian hospitality—its historical meanings and its traditional forms of enactment—and argue for its relevance for the contemporary university classroom, particularly as an educational paradigm that has the potential to affirm the dignity of all people and stress socially-responsible learning and action.
For the most part, contemporary Christians “have lost touch with the amazingly rich and complex tradition of hospitality” (Pohl 4). According to Christine D. Pohl in Making Room: Recovering Hospitality as a Christian Tradition, for most of the history of the Church, hospitality was understood to encompass physical, social, and spiritual dimensions of human existence and relationships:
It meant response to the physical needs of strangers for food, shelter, and protection, but also a recognition of their worth and common humanity. In almost every case, hospitality involved shared meals [but], historically, table fellowship was an important way of recognizing the equal value and dignity of persons. (6)
If the identity crisis facing contemporary higher education may be seen as related in some fundamental sense to our increasingly “fractured, individualistic, results-oriented society,” the ideals of hospitality—especially its core concern for the recognition and generous reception of the other—should be logically extended to the university classroom (9).
This paper will examine the biblical and early Christian tradition of hospitality—how earlier generations of Christians struggled with issues of recognition and dignity, transcending social differences, building community, and negotiating the tensions between maintaining identity boundaries and welcoming strangers—in order to advocate for “an integrative approach to higher education, one that recognizes the whole human being and his or her place in community and the world” (Palmer and Zajonc 60). It will be argued that when we apply that notion of reception not only to texts but to the ideas of others inside and outside of the classroom, when the ancient tradition of Christian hospitality (in its widest sense) is recovered and affirmed in the college classroom, students learn to affirm the dignity of a diversity of perspectives as hospitality stimulates fair and rigorous critical engagement with ideas different from one’s own. Furthermore, it will be argued that the tradition of Christian hospitality has the potential to affirm the dignity of the classroom community itself—care for the ideas, experiences, and academic work of fellow students creates an environment in which creativity and scholarship can flourish.

Conformation Bias: Theological Anthropology for the Education Debates
It might seem implausible or unrealistic (not to say a classic example of academic overreach) to suggest that progress in the neuralgic disputes over higher education might come down to anthropological clarity -- clarity, that is, in our philosophical and theological conceptions of human nature.
It would certainly be yielding to illusion, however, to suppose that there are not tendentious, even if inchoate, notions of human possibilities and human flourishing hiddenly at work in the fights over the roles of STEM and the humanities, distance learning, core curricula, free speech and "safe spaces," gender and sexual justice, and so forth, on our college and university campuses, or that continuing argument on these issues without acknowledgment that different parties' positions assume fundamentally opposed anthropologies could rise to a level above that of shouting matches or political coercion. (The category of anthropological "notions" includes claims that there is no such thing as human nature, or that it is simply a convenient label for constantly changing functions of social, cultural, and historical forces.)
For Christian colleges and universities, at least those interested in maintaining an identifiably Christian identity within an increasingly intolerantly secular culture, placing all eggs in the basket of defending "religious freedom" -- as crucially important as it is to contend for such freedom in today's environment -- risks capitulation to powerful prejudices promoting the continuing privatization, the public irrelevance, of faith and the gospel, while other, baldly anti-theological assumptions are covertly or explicitly privileged.
If there is anything describable as "human nature" at all, then developing and debating claims about what that nature is, what constitutes true and possible human ends, and how human persons ought to be seen and treated in light of those ends, are not peripheral or private tasks, but instead are at the heart of any serious public consideration of the purpose of education, including higher education, and its role(s) in society. And these are tasks which Christian communities, that is, communities of gospel proclamation, do not have the luxury of "sitting out" -- even if there often seems to be neither patience for nor comprehension of such argument in many contemporary contexts.
This paper will sketch some contours of a Christian approach to two anthropological topics of relevance to education: (1) human teleology, that is, human orientation toward an end or ends, and (2) human formation, that is, human movement, guided and shaped from the "outside," toward or in the service of those ends. That education is somehow linked to formation is nothing new; but particular answers to the question of where that formation should be directed, and therefore how it should be supported, often go unexamined.
A Christian anthropology will be unapologetically theological, investigating how all human beings are meant to be related -- and not merely in some attenuated, compartmentalized moral sense -- to Jesus Christ, God's image and the herald of God's coming reign, under the irreducible and uncooptable power of God's life-giving Spirit. In this way specific content, at least, is placed on the table -- content that, must, of course, be articulated and argued. But a Christian anthropology may and should also be collaborative, in the sense that it is attentive to and willing to dialogue with other discourses and disciplines -- for example, evolutionary psychology on human universals -- in the service of the truth, or, more precisely, in order to contribute to the enterprise of discerning what human beings actually are like and how they can actually be educated.
It might well be asked whether candidly, intelligently Christian reasoning of the sort advocated can now gain any real hearing in the wreck of post-Christendom. This is the point, perhaps, at which the vision of Christian communities simply living out resilient faith, including practices based on robust theological anthropological convictions -- displaying integrity without isolation to pursue what some have called the "Benedict option," rather than depending on the broken cisterns of political power and media control to try to force change -- becomes particularly attractive. Yet such an "option" should be welcomed by Christians and churches as a way to engage the world, not seized as an excuse to withdraw from it. Creatively excavating and interrogating the anthropologies that underpin our educational projects can be an aspect of that engagement.

The Relationship between Liberal Education and a Free Society
Inaugurated by the Ancients, liberal education was advanced and systematized by the Scholastics, and remained hegemonic through the early modern era. A possible tension between liberal education and a free society, as we understand it, appears at its outset. The first four liberal arts, later called the quadrivium, appear as part of Socrates’s educational program for the guardians in his city-in-speech. Karl Popper’s claim that Plato prepares the way for totalitarianism aside, we see immediately that liberal education is born in a world where only the few receive it and virtually no one enjoys the kind of religious, political, and economic liberties we now associate with a free society. In one sense liberal education precedes the free society and has sometimes even been judged its enemy. In another sense, though, as we will see, liberal education is the concomitant of and indispensable to a free society. Paradoxically, liberal education is at once freeing and traditionally limited to the free. How can this be? The answer requires us to distinguish what liberal education is from what liberal education is not. In the first part of this paper I argue that liberal education is not primarily useful, technological, or political. In the second section I argue that liberal education is scientific, though in an older sense of that word, and that it is pursued for its own sake. Finally, I turn to the liberal effects of a liberal education. Though liberal education is not originally or primarily political, it is ultimately necessary to a free society.

Socratic Seminar vs. Socratic Education: A Reading of Plato's Crito
Many educational theorists today often stress the need for “interactive pedagogy” that can take the form of “active learning” or “peer learning,” all of which are designed to replace lecturing in the college classroom. One of the oldest variants of this mode of pedagogy is called the “Socratic seminar,” in which an instructor asks a question or two, and then leaves students to wrestle with a text in front of them, listening to each other and trying to learn from one another as well as from the text itself. While much can be said in favor of this model of teaching, it is not perfectly clear that it actually captures what we find Socrates doing in Plato's dialogues. In this paper, I offer a reading of Plato's Crito in the service of illustrating how Socrates' methods actually largely diverge from the modern accounts that use his name. In Plato's Crito, we find several key features of Socrates' pedagogical method: that it is a sustained conversation or inquiry into an opinion of great importance to human beings; that Socrates knows much more than he lets on, and steers the conversation toward particular outcomes; and finally, that Socrates often does offer ostensibly dogmatic teachings to his interlocutors as he does with Crito in the form of his speech on the laws. We will examine Socrates' motivations for teaching why he does and try to show how these methods could reasonably be modified and deployed in a modern classroom. Plato’s Socrates offers a fruitful model of education that sits between interactive pedagogy and lecturing that encourages learners to seek self-knowledge and try to discover if they can satisfy their minds with what they believe in their hearts.

Acting Out Ideas: An Argument for Experiential Learning
"This proposal outlines the importance of engaging the college students in what I, following Aeschylus, refer to as pathei mathos or “learning by undergoing.” Traditionally known as “experiential learning” the teaching method, which I discuss in the paper, benefits undergraduate students by meeting (at least) three pedagogical goals. The first goal is to engage the students’ creativity. The second is to raise the students’ responsibility for, and investment in, the studied material. The students’ ownership of the material and its creative appropriation are used to reach the third goal, which is to deepen the insights gleaned from the study. Having outlined the creative and engaging approach to teaching undergraduate students, the paper goes on to argue that cultivation of creativity must take place in the “live” classroom setting as opposed to by means of remote and online educational tools. I do not argue against remote learning methodologies. I do, however, argue for the importance, significance, and efficacy of in-class, interpersonal experiences, which strengthen the sense of community and the understanding that learning is an enterprise of interaction between human beings.
Background and Focus: Both the authors of “Experience Based Learning: Contemporary Issues” and the writer of Knowing Bodies, Moving Minds: Toward Embodied Teaching and Learning agree that experiential learning taps into the students’ imaginative potential and allows the students to integrate their own experiences, question their own opinions, and take ownership of the studied material. Whereas there are disputed aspects of the method, which Andersen, Boud, and Cohen describe, I circumvent the pitfalls by using experiential learning in a guided manner and only in conjunction with more traditional approaches to teaching.
In order to give a concrete example of how experiential learning functions in the classroom, I turn to my expertise, which is philosophy. The idea for developing my own version of experiential learning and introducing it as a part of my pedagogy, came to me from teaching the works of the ancient Greek playwrights. Unlocking the philosophical dimension of the plays proved essential for the students’ capacity to quickly grasp the key notions from the works of the ancient Greek and other philosophical authors. In order to unearth the performative philosophy of the theatrical pieces, I developed acting exercises and introduced my students to the experience of acting out their understanding of the philosophical aspects of the plays. Aside from putting the students in the unique perspective of the character, whose passions, decisions, actions, and tribulations congeal into the philosophically pertinent interpretations of drama, acting also brings the students together in highly interactive preparatory assignments. The former is important for cultivating the individual student’s philosophical perspective. The latter is a very effective teamwork tool.
For four years now, experiential learning has been an integral part of my pedagogy. The method has proved successful in 1. developing the students’ philosophical attitude, 2. teaching the students to practice active engagement with the philosophical texts and ideas, 3. engaging the students’ experiences and educational background for the purpose of bringing philosophical thinking to bear on everyday circumstances, and 4. cultivating the students’ capacity to express their ideas eloquently and succinctly. Structured to insure that students develop a sophisticated understanding of the philosophical texts—an understanding which builds on, but goes further than initial memorization of the material—experiential learning also proves helpful in increasing the quality of the students’ written work.
Argument: I argue that it is impossible to engage the students in the highly interpretive and integrative work, be it the work in humanities or the sciences, unless ample time is set aside for face-to-face classroom meetings time. Jennifer Haworth and Clifton F. Conrad, the authors of Emblems of Quality in Higher Education: Developing and Sustaining High-Quality Programs, stress the importance of mentoring that should be made accessible to the students by the faculty. Also students learning from and being mentored by one another is a key moment in successful integration of the studied material. Such mentorship and learning from each other is readily available in the supportive and interactive classroom setting which my paper outlines and for which it argues.

Enframing Higher Education: A Consideration of Heidegger's "The Question Concerning Technology"
In the face of challenges and transformations in higher education, the use of technology, particularly in the context of curriculum delivery, has become a strategic lynchpin. The milieu is abuzz with the discourse regarding best practices, including technical manifestations of online conveyance and (at times) pedagogical technique that will lead to greater efficiency, while maintaining student satisfaction.
Technological advancements are disrupting higher education and challenging many of the sacred cows that have grazed on our green pastures for centuries. The foxes are dashing to adopt and the hedgehogs are preaching doom.
While entrenchment will likely do little good, following the tide of technological developments without proper consideration of their underlying philosophical and theological assumptions could be disastrous.
This presentation will take pause to explore these underpinnings through a consideration of Martin Heidegger’s seminal work on technology, “The Question Concerning Technology.” In its opening paragraph, Heidegger puts forward that his objective is to investigate technology’s essence. The pursuit is not done for the sake of philosophical meanderings alone; rather, he proposes that “in so doing we should like to prepare a free relationship to it. The relationship will be free if it opens our human existence to the essence of technology.”
This presentation will work to make clear Heidegger’s seemingly obscure perspective, paying particular attention to the ways in which utilization of modern technology either reveals truth about entities in the world or challenges their existence through altering their fundamental being-in-the-world.
Further, it will discuss the philosopher’s ramifications for inappropriate technical manipulations, which emerge from a human posture that Heidegger terms enframing. He explains this posture as one in which “starts man upon the way of that revealing through which the actual everywhere, more or less distinctly, becomes standing-reserve.” It is an exploitative relationship in which resources are collected, stored up, and exported from its native soil. While Heidegger sets the conversation concerning technology in the context of the Rhine, we will discuss what technological enframing has to do within higher education in the 21st century and its effects on education.
In a 1928 letter to Matthaus Lang, Heidegger comments on the importance of his time in the seminary. He writes, “I think back with pleasure and gratitude to the beginnings of my student career at Konradihaus, and I become ever more aware of how closely all my efforts are bound up in my native soil.” With this connection to his seminarian roots and his early depth of religious commitment, one may wonder in what ways his “native soil” may have affected his later career.
With Heidegger’s own admission of Christianity’s influence in view, the presentation will make a final turn to consider the ways in which the philosopher may have been influenced by a lifetime of study, and also, how his “Question Concerning Technology” might affect our understanding of technology (and its uses in higher education) from a Christian perspective.

Homecoming and the Future of Higher Education
In Wes Jackson’s remarkable 1994 book Becoming Native to the Place, he notes that most colleges and universities now offer variations of only one major, upward mobility. What was true twenty years ago is even more the case today. In part to justify the explosive costs of higher education, students are directed toward ever greater specialization and expertise to enable them to move out and to move up. Jackson continues, “Little attention is paid to educating the young to return home, or to go to some other place and dig in. There is no such thing as a ‘homecoming’ major.”
Many might dismiss Jackson’s suggestion as nostalgic fantasy. Why should one pay $50,000 a year merely to go home and “dig in”? Of course, they should not. But what if colleges and universities were to recognize and begin to enable our students to flourish in a world of coming scarcity? Is it possible that we might direct some of our energies toward equipping students with not only the skills but also the rationale for curbing expectations and adapting one’s life to meet what is available in a given place, at a given time. What Jackson calls a “homecoming” major is really a retrieval of the practices of sustainable agriculture, cottage farming, community development, home economics, moral philosophy, and the flourishing of the life of the mind and the cultures of civilization.
As such, one of the great ironies of contemporary higher education is that STEM and the humanities have their intersection at a place that both claim to have “outgrown,” namely their agrarian heritage. Colleges and universities must retrieve and reclaim this agrarian past as the key to an uncertain future. By returning to our agrarian origins, we find new resources for navigating the troubled disciplinary waters of higher education. A remarkable catalogue of benefits follow here: substantial engagements with biology, geology, zoology, environmental science; a recovery of one of the essential themes of Western intellectual history and literature; models for sustainable living in a coming period of scarcity; resources for an informed evaluation of the proper uses of technology; an engaging picture of eudaimonia, or human flourishing and happiness; a critique of the abstraction of modern higher education; the cultivation of the virtues and community, and, for faith-based institutions, a place where the integration of faith and learning is not only not excluded but also given the place of prominence and direction.
Most colleges and universities are better-equipped to address this need than they realize. Despite the fact that research and teaching in agriculture is now almost the exclusive province of land grant universities which are often deeply beholden to industrial agriculture and the agribusiness conglomerates which fund the research and pay for the facilities, there is no reason why smaller schools could not turn some of their natural and social science resources toward the development of cottage and urban farming initiatives. Many small state universities work vigorously to serve the rural communities which surround them, but like the federal Department of Agriculture, they have unwillingly bought into the assumption that future agriculture success is based on the belief that the farmer and the college must either “Get big or get out.” Such need not be the case. While small liberal arts or religious colleges do not usually have the resources for cutting edge STEM research, but they do have fine programs in the sciences which are complemented by a serious and vigorous commitment to the humanities. Herein lies the basis for a thriving program in sustainable agriculture, environmental science, and agrarian literature, philosophy, and history. Armed with such insights and skills, the future of higher education may not be so bleak, and some of our students might just make it home after all.

Integration of the Disciplines: A Qualitative Study of the Boston College Roundtable
In the Spring of 2013, the Division of University Mission and Ministry at Boston College undertook a new initiative. The Boston College Roundtable began with the hope of drawing scholars from different disciplines into a common conversation about the distinctiveness of a Catholic approach to higher education.
The Roundtable brought together fourteen scholars from different Catholic colleges and universities in the United States, representing different types of institutions as well as different founding religious orders, dioceses, or bishops. Members of the first cohort were mid- to late-career tenured faculty from different disciplines who in some cases also hold administrative appointments. They are active researchers and writers in their respective fields. While there is no specific requirement that participants be Catholic, all voluntarily responded to our invitation because of a love for Catholic higher education. All have a nuanced, theologically informed understanding of mission that deepened the substance of the conversation.
Participants were invited to discuss the mission of Catholic higher education in the modern/postmodern context: to inquire how institutions rooted in the Catholic tradition stand to enrich academic freedom and scholarly inquiry, student learning, and social development, ultimately leading to the formation of the wholly integrated human person and a better world. Meeting twice a year over two years, the first cohort addressed a theme at each meeting determined in advance: first, a theme chosen by the hosts; subsequently, by suggestions from participants. The participants gave papers and offered critical responses examining the theme through the lens of their particular disciplinary approaches and epistemological frameworks.
The papers were published in the journal Integritas and disseminated to the presidents, chief academic officers, and mission officers of all Catholic colleges and universities in the United States and Canada, as well as to all bishops. We are finding that the Roundtable model is a compelling one for fostering important interdisciplinary academic conversations that have impact among those interested in the future of Catholic higher education.
At the conclusion of the term of the first cohort, we who were involved in the Roundtable wondered what the outcomes of this initiative might be. What ideas emerged from the Roundtable, and what do they suggest should be the focus of future cohorts? How do these ideas interrelate? How might they be drawn upon to articulate a coherent, systemic strategy for the future of Catholic higher education? How ought Catholic higher education change to foster more exploration of mission across disciplines? When are systems transformed, and what factors contribute to transformation? Our hunch was that inviting faculty to consider mission questions was important, since the nucleus of any university is the intellectual life that unfolds among faculty and students; but we wanted to know whether the model that we proposed advanced faculty conversation about mission in ways that might have a ripple effect across the institutions represented.
We asked two researchers from the Lynch School of Education at Boston College, Patrick McQuillan and Michael James, to undertake a qualitative research study of the Roundtable, using the published papers, a survey of the participants, and follow-up interviews. We are deeply grateful to the generosity of the members of the first cohort, listed by name and institution above, for the time they gave to our collection of these valuable data. McQuillan and James will publish the full results of their study in a peer-reviewed journal in the coming months.
This paper will take an approach that draws from McQuillan’s and James’s findings, focusing on larger questions of what they suggest for leaders in Catholic higher education. How might our experience with the Roundtable inform efforts on other campuses to engage faculty in conversations about mission? What might a two-year, sustained conversation about the distinctiveness of Catholic higher education suggest for curricula, for faculty formation, for student life? Substantively, what did the cohort talk about, and how might their conversations inform future conversations about the academic mission of other Christian colleges and universities?
The paper has three parts. First, it provides an overview of the four volumes of Integritas, highlighting the ways that the interdisciplinary conversations raised exciting new questions for curricula, research, and service. Second, it presents qualitative analysis of the initiative. Third, it presents conclusions, including suggestions about how the Roundtable model might inform efforts at mission integration on other campuses.

Re-imaging Community-Engaged Learning within the Academy
"Baccalaureate and graduate curricula and student life initiatives at many universities affirm the intellectual, moral, and social virtues of student engagement with real-world challenges of local and global communities. Engaged or contextual learning is experienced-enriched, reflection-based education conducted within a community context which serves as a catalyst for students to integrate their disciplinary knowledge and which presents a forum for formation of their intellectual, moral, and spiritual life (True, 2002). Recent reports by the Association of Colleges and Universities (A Crucible Moment: College Learning and Democracy’s Future, 2012) highlight the importance of renewed attention to how the academy prepares students for difference-making responses to human suffering and turmoil in local and global communities.
Unfortunately, an assessment of the state of community-engaged learning, as reported in A Critical Moment, revealed that these opportunities are “for the most part random, unconnected, uneven, optional, and available only to some students.” The Report concludes that “both personal and social responsibility should be core elements of a 21st century education if our world is to thrive.” In this paper, I propose three enhancements to engaged learning in the undergraduate curriculum and internships in professional programs. These recommendations for the next generation of community-engaged learning focus on how we can activate the power of service or situational realism (Dennison, 2011) to both elevate educational outcomes and benefit our communities.
Increasing integration of community-engaged learning with core curriculum and undergraduate disciplines.
Opportunities for community engagement that leverage analysis and synthesis of course content are the exception, not the rule. We need to find ways to modify the intellectual architecture of our general education and upper-level undergraduate courses in a way that the embraces the power of classroom-community interplay through thoughtful engaged learning.
Deeper adoption of the classroom-community engagement interaction is energized by linking engaged learning with the aspirations of the academy, by presenting evidence for the efficacy of contextualized learning for enriched student outcomes, and by addressing current concerns about the relevance of liberal arts education for “real world” issues. Community-based, engaged learning supports mastery of general education competencies in the areas of communication, critical thinking, and faith identity, whether the discipline is history, rhetoric, physics, or dance. The opportunities for an interdisciplinary perspective on community needs may also be an additional competency in the preparation of students for community engagement (Jeavons, 1995).
Fortunately, models are available (Hanover Research, 2015, ) that guide faculty and administrators interested in learning how community-engaged learning can be integrated with core, STEM, and a wide range of undergraduate disciplines. For example, Civic Prompts (2015) provides a process for faculty and staff consideration of this pedagogical innovation as well as exemplars for how every discipline can integrate this teaching and learning approach.
Offering an interdisciplinary capstone experience
The creation of an interdisciplinary capstone course offered to all undergraduate majors would be another instructional opportunity to benefit from community engagement. Students would have the opportunity to contemplate the ways in which their general education and discipline-specific learning are connected with the community challenges they encounter. Participation in a learning community focused on a common community service project would also provide a venue for learning about interdisciplinary work. (Sigmon, 2009).
Expanding coordination and interdisciplinary collaboration among professional internships
Internships in professional education represent the most powerful demonstration of the hermeneutical relationship between community engagement and student learning. The virtues of internship education, however often go unnoticed within the life of the academy. Marginalization can be traced to its association with practical, non-intellectual experience, its occurrence in non-academic settings, and close linkage with single discipline learning.
Scholars, administrators, funders, and practitioners concerned about how higher education can most effectively address the world’s most pressing challenges recognize that solutions require interdisciplinary or transdisciplinary research and action, mirroring the complexity of human life. Internship placements are ideal venues for preparing our students to do interdisciplinary work, providing a colaboratory for research and practice with colleagues in other disciplines. The difficult reality is that professional internships are deeply siloed within the academy. The structural and human resource barriers to promoting interdisciplinary coordination in engaged learning settings are as formable as is the urgency of preparing students for the interdisciplinary imperative inherent in solving pressing community problems.
I think that releasing the vast potential of intentional transactions between courses and community await our imagination and willingness to fail and keep trying. I offer these three recommendations for activating the power of engaged learning to cultivate student formation and to serve our communities."

"Value-Added Humanities"
Protestations abound, and usually for good reason, when higher education is conceptualized as a commodity. Despite the tacit assumptions of many undergraduates and their parents today, buying a college education is not precisely like ordering an ice cream sundae. This “consumption” model of knowledge frequently vitiates the very outcomes it promises to deliver. Yet it has become equally clear that the contemporary American cultural, political, and economic climate will no longer sustain post-secondary humanities education in the forms which rose to prominence following the passage of the G.I. Bill in 1944. Those institutional structures excelled at using tax money to endow mostly lower-class white men with the cultural capital required to advance into the middle classes: they would not learn Latin and Greek, but they would be able to recognize a quotation from Othello. Outfitted with shibboleths, they prospered.
Today, however, the net worth of the humanities has declined precipitously. Caroline Levine’s recent decision to abandon her embattled post as English department chair at the University of Wisconsin for more lucrative pastures is but one indication of shifting material conditions. Elite institutions possess endowments sizable enough to guarantee jobs for elite humanities scholars, but the vast majority of the academic world—including state colleges and universities, community colleges, online education, private liberal arts colleges, and private religious institutions of higher learning—hires humanities professors to teach general education courses which no longer provide the social and economic advantages to students they once did.
The joint authors of this presentation assert that entirely new institutional structures are required to supplement—and possibly to supplant—the stolid but stagnant departmental frameworks in which the humanities are now taught. The authors work together in a cohort-based, team-taught, off-campus program of Azusa Pacific University, the High Sierra Humanities Program. They propose to describe a financially feasible renovation of humanities education which focuses on adding value to undergraduate experience rather than merely lowering costs. Broadly speaking, the humanities (which here for convenience I define as an amorphous, dynamic set of traditional disciplines composed of English, Philosophy, History, Theology, Fine Arts, and Social Science) have always “taught values,” even when those values are couched in profoundly secular terms: “critical thinking,” “good citizenship,” “empathy,” “diversity.” Curiously, however, the methodologies and pedagogies employed by humanities departments have often failed to embody the values they purport to cultivate. The authors of this presentation argue that such methodologies must now be developed in order to enhance both the real and perceived value of humanities education. Such innovation, if successful, would radically reposition humanistic learning in the marketplace.
The authors propose that changes in humanities education should be characterized by three fundamental shifts: (1) Cohort-based enrollment as an alternative to “cafeteria” general education, (2) Interdisciplinary team-teaching implemented in a dialectical relationship to traditional disciplinary instruction; (3) Distinctive co-curricular experiences shared by curricular cohorts. If deployed strategically and institutionally, such educational structures would neither raise nor lower costs; they would, however, dramatically increase the capacity of individual undergraduate students to connect and apply disciplinary areas of knowledge in teams and communities, aptitudes far more congenial to the economic structures of the 21st century than the Arnoldian “cultured person” ideal of the 19th and 20th.
Innovative restructuring of humanities education at the institutional level would, in the authors’ views, accrue additional benefits to professedly Christian colleges and universities, since one of the values explicitly “added” would be greatly enhanced spiritual development. Any Christian undergraduate reading, say, Nietzsche or Kierkegaard for the first time will, by design, experience cognitive dissonance productive of spiritual growth. How much greater might the potential for such growth be, though, if that first “disruptive” reading experience occurs in orchestrated dialogue with disciplines outside philosophy and in daily community with fellow co-wrestlers? The authors of this presentation already work in such a structure. They argue that it offers a more robust and financially sound approach to humanities education than those currently on offer.

Philosophy after Christ
There is no such thing as Catholic Philosophy or more broadly Christian Philosophy.  I am one of those who thinks speaking of Catholic Philosophy is as awkward as speaking of Catholic Medicine, Catholic Physics, or Catholic Engineering.   On the other hand I do think one can make sense of the idea of Catholic philosophizing.  We don't have a nice gerund in English to express the same thing about doing Physics.  But I think one could make a parallel point about a Catholic doing Physics.  Fr. Shenk rightly directs us to think about John Henry Newman in thinking about the tasks of a university.  One of the points Newman made is that the human mind looks for unity in the diversity of intellectual disciplines it pursues; it seeks a kind of primary discipline that takes into account the truths discovered throughout the other disciplines as it seeks to understand what it can of the whole of reality, not just its parts.  This is a point pursued a century later by the French Catholic philosopher Jacques Maritain in his work Distinguer Pour Unir—we distinguish in order to unite.  But Newman also points out that in the absence such a unifying discipline, practitioners of each particular discipline will often claim for their particular discipline the prize of being primary—of being THE discipline by which all others must be understood and judged.   If a unifying discipline is not to be found, this attitude is not entirely unjustified, for Newman's point is partly Aristotelian.  Aristotle had pointed out that if one cannot show that non-physical beings exist, then what he called "first philosophy" would just be Physics, rather than that discipline that has come to be called Metaphysics.  But if such a unifying discipline is to be found, claiming for one's own limited discipline the role of unifying discipline is hubris that goes beyond the discipline itself, is not rationally justified, and lacks the proper humility of the intellectual discipline before its proper object.  So for Newman to understand the nature of a university one has to answer the question as to whether there is or is not such a unifying discipline to be found.
The point I am going to try to make to you today is that Philosophy in a Catholic university has to have that proper humility and avoid hubris, because as Balazs rightly notes it has to take history seriously.  And the history it has to take seriously is the history of Christ incarnate.  It must be Philosophy after Christ.  So while Philosophy has a place in Catholic universities, and ought to engage in the unifying activity Newman describes, it has to be open to the possibility that it is not that primary discipline of which Newman spoke.  In addition, Catholic or Christian philosophizing will not characterize a field of study, but rather provide an insight into the character of the one who pursues Philosophy, not just in Catholic educational institutions, but wherever and whenever he or she pursues Philosophy as such.

Integrating Faith and Learning in the Western Civilization Surveys
Pursuing the goal of “higher learning,” the aspiration of Christian educators not just to excel in their disciplines but also to leaven their scholarship and teaching with an acknowledgment of transcendent truths and purpose, is both rewarding and challenging. Two years into my career as a history professor at a Christian liberal arts college, I continue to wrestle with the relationship between my personal Christian faith and worldview and my understanding of and approach to my discipline and my academic calling.
I am a Christian who is a historian and I am also a historian of Christianity, but it is worth asking if there is a specifically Christian approach to history and to the teaching of my discipline. This question fits into larger ongoing discussions among Christian scholars about the “integration of faith and learning.” This process can be much more complicated than it might seem and many missteps are possible. Some scholars consciously or unconsciously attempt to bracket their personal Christian beliefs when they engage in research and teaching. Others integrate the two in a superficial or awkward manner.
It is certainly the case that the methodology of history used by Christian and non-Christian historians need not differ greatly. In his book The Outrageous Idea of Christian Scholarship George Marsden argues, “The fact is that explicitly Christian convictions do not very often have substantial impact on the techniques used in academic work, which make up the bulk of the technical, scientific side of academic inquiry.” On the other hand, the idea that one’s Christian identity and beliefs should remain completely implicit in one’s scholarship or in the classroom, the view of most secular historians, is clearly not sufficient. To quote Marsden again, “One would not likely say to feminists, Marxists, neo-conservatives, gay advocates, and representatives of other viewpoints that the privatization of their viewpoints would not be a diminishment.”
After careful reflection, I have concluded that being a Christian historian is fraught with difficulty. It does not mean that I have all the answers or that I have access to sources of information closed to secular students of the past. Instead it means that my scholarship is informed by and must grapple with a set of tensions but that my faith, my research, and my teaching are all the richer for this fact.
In my paper at the symposium I will reflect on my engagement with the extensive literature on the integration of faith and learning in my field, particularly with regards to such Christian concepts as providence, the creation of man as Imago Dei, and human fallenness and their application to the study and teaching of history. I also intend to focus on my specific attempts over the last two years to incorporate such issues into the design and teaching of my two Western Civilization surveys, general education courses that all students are required to take at my institution. It is in this confluence of theory and practice that my own understanding of what “higher learning” means has matured.

"All Schooled Up": Alasdair MacIntyre and Ivan Illich Meet at the Intersection of the Modern University and the Loss of Learning
In 1970, Ivan Illich published what is perhaps his best known text, Deschooling Society. In that work, he argues that western culture has seized upon an ideal demanding that progress toward social maturity requires its members be “all schooled up.” That phrase, for Illich, describes the necessary absorption of persons into an institutional system that teaches them to value the structured dominion of the school, and its variegated economic rewards, rather than learning itself – the sort of rich and layered learning that best takes place in venues far removed from our familiar and formal “schooled up” educational institutions. We have, says Illich, lost our sense for the telos of education. We have, in fact, mistaken our elaborately constructed institutional machinery for the genuine goals of learning; we have exalted the means, and thereby squandered the ends, of education.
Illich views the modern university as emblematic of the wayward and oppressive system of schooling in the west, a system that the rest of the world has been eager to emulate. There is a need to re-imagine and revitalize the modern university, such that it can both uncover new ways to foster genuine learning, and recover traditional modes of intellectual inquiry that promote human flourishing as an aspect of life within established communities. But this will entail that our narrow allegiance to the entire edifice of contemporary and obligatory institutional schooling may have to be demolished. As Illich puts it, “Any attempt to reform the university without attending to the system of which it is an integral part is like trying to do urban renewal in New York City from the twelfth story up.”
Nearly 40 years later after Deschooling Society was released, Alasdair MacIntyre offered a very different analysis of the modern university in his book, God, Philosophy, Universities: A Selective History of the Catholic Philosophical Tradition. It is a very different analysis, however, with some remarkably similar conclusions to those promulgated by Ivan Illich. In a sense, this work elaborates the themes MacIntyre first offered in After Virtue, generalized in Three Rival Versions of Moral Enquiry, and specified by means of an historical example in his biography of Edith Stein. MacIntyre’s overriding concern with the modern university is analogous to Illich’s complaint: that in the university, learning has been sacrificed to a process of credentialing in one of numerous microdisciplines. This fracturing of intellectual inquiry deprives students of an integrated understanding of their place in the world, and of that world within which they are taking their place. MacIntyre concludes that in the modern university, “the fragmentation of enquiry and the fragmentation of understanding are taken for granted. So that, if philosophy is to put them in question, as any theistic philosophy must, it must not only engage in distinctively different types of enquiry, but provide those enquiries, so far as it can, with a different type of academic setting.”
MacIntyre, of course, is particularly interested in theistic philosophy, and the manner in which a theistic philosophy may be compelled to seek out “a different type of academic setting.” It is at this point that the concerns of, and the proposals presented by, Ivan Illich and Alasdair MacIntyre intersect. For both of these thinkers, the modern university has too often veered away from genuine learning and tilted in the direction of certifying competence in an assigned social role; relinquishing inquiry in favor of schooling. If it is true that the contemporary western university, especially in North America, has failed to sustain its vision of higher education for the purpose of nurturing free inquiry and the development of a virtuous intellectual character among its students, what then is to be done? This paper will present an initial examination of the critiques of Illich and MacIntyre, and submit a suggestion, based on their analyses, for how we might avoid the cultural stultification that may result from being “all schooled up.”

American Catholic Higher Education Since the 1960s: Changes, Challenges, Choices
"In 1995 the great Catholic historian Philip Gleason published his pathbreaking history of American Catholic colleges, Contending With Modernity: Catholic Higher Education in the Twentieth Century. Illuminating as this study was--and still is--the ""twentieth century"" of the subtitle is a distinctly truncated one, since Gleason's history in effect concludes in the late 1960s, with the famous Land'O'Lakes Conference and its aftermath, leading to what Gleason identifies as a ""profound identity crisis"" that, he says, ""three decades later. . . has not yet been resolved."" (p. 320)
It is now more than half a century since the decade with which Gleason's history concluded, and more than two decades since he wrote the book. What has happened in and to American Catholic higher education since that time? Is that profound identity crisis he spoke of still operative, or has it become, as he hinted it might, a ""permanent condition"" of Catholic learning? How have major institutional, intellectual, and public developments shaped Catholic colleges and universities? What challenges has Catholic higher education faced in sustaining its identity and mission in recent decades? And what special strengths, if any, does the Catholic higher education community bring to the wider American Christian academic community, to American higher education, and to intellectual life at large? These are the questions this paper will take up, however briefly, and while no comprehensive or definition conclusions are intended, the aim is to provide an informative overview of Catholic higher education since the 1960s and to suggest some of the continuing challenges as well as unique gifts that Catholic colleges and universities can bring not only to Catholicism but to religious higher education and American culture.
The paper will proceed through four parts. First, it will provide a succinct overview of Catholic colleges, emphasizing both their tremendous variety as well as their shared history and identity in relation to the Catholic church, including its religious orders, hierarchy, and laity. Second, it will describe some of the major issues and fault lines that have impacted Catholic higher ed since the 1990s, particularly Saint Pope John Paul II's apostolic constitution Ex corde ecclesiae of 1990. It will also attend briefly to some notable post-Gleason commentators on Catholic universities, including David J. O'Brien, Peter Steinfels, and the late James Burtchaell. Third, it will describe some of the continuing challenges that Catholic higher education has faced in recent decades, particular involving religious and political polarization in both the Catholic Church and American society. Finally, the paper will suggest how, despite its numerous internal and external frictions and fractions, the tradition of American Catholic higher education contains rich qualities, thus far just barely exploited, that could greatly benefit our country and our culture as well as Christian academic life. Among these features are its deep intellectual and institutional history, its distinctive international perspectives and connections, a penetrating body of religious social thought, and in some cases a still-alive awareness of the intersection of knowledge, faith, and character."

Distinguishing a Worldview from a Point of View: Toward the Recovery of a Critical Tool
"Emmanuel Kant coined the term Weltanschauung in Critique of Judgment (1790) to describe how people view the world of experience. By 1868 the word had entered the English vocabulary as “worldview” though it has continued to be used in academic circles in its German form. Since Kant, a variety of disciplines from philosophy to sociology, and from psychology to anthropology have adopted the term.
Many scholars regard the idea of a worldview as unhelpful or meaningless. The scholarly world does not have a commonly agreed upon definition of worldview. One of the problems of defining worldview arises because of the fragmentation of the disciplines of higher education. Different disciplines have come to use the word “worldview” in different ways.
Freud — philosophy of life of a person
Anthropology — core beliefs and values of a culture
English Professor -- "I've heard Christians use the term 'worldview' but I didn't know it was an anthropological term."
Philosophy—cannot agree if it is a matter of Phenomenology (Henderson) or Ontology (Hebblethwaite)
Evangelicals have taken their cue on the subject largely from James Sire’s The Universe Next Door (1976). Sire takes the position that a worldview is a private philosophy of life that an individual adopts or constructs (18-19). A worldview in Sire’s teaching is simply a person’s ideology (17). Sire’s view contrasts with the position of the Lausanne Movement which regards worldview in a cultural context, as opposed to Sire’s personal or private understanding.
The Lausanne Movement’s understanding of worldview finds expression in Perspectives on the World Christian Movement (1981) which takes the position that “at the heart of every culture is its worldview” (363). For the most part, what Sire calls a worldview has traditionally been referred to as a point of view. The failure to distinguish a worldview from a point of view creates the danger of ignoring the degree to which everyone within a culture shares some common beliefs and values even though they may disagree fiercely about their application.
As it relates to culture, worldview refers to the combination of beliefs and values that lie at the heart of a culture. Alternatively, this core set of beliefs and values has often been called the mind of a culture. The recent tendency of American evangelical Christians to speak of worldview as a private, individualistic experience of people tends to leave Evangelicals without a basis for understanding culture. The psychological adaptation of the word to the individual confuses or overlooks the point that cultures have a worldview. Individuals have opinions and perspectives. Individuals have a point of view, but cultures have a worldview.
Everyone who lives in a culture learns the worldview of that culture as they grow older. At the same time, everyone has their own point of view which they may keep to themselves or which they may discuss openly. Every culture has its own way of dealing with people who disagree with the commonly held beliefs and values of the culture. Deviants may be ridiculed, shunned, or killed. In times of crisis, however, long held private beliefs and values may come out in the open.
This paper will explore these ideas with the view to presenting a constructive proposal for how an understanding of the interplay between cultural worldview and personal point of view can contribute to one’s critical thinking skills. The paper will draw on an earlier generation of twentieth century Christian thinkers in the form of C. S. Lewis, J. R. R. Tolkien, and Lord David Cecil to illustrate how the distinction between worldview and point of view can aid critical analysis and contribute to clarity of understanding.

Liberal arts, experiential education, and the foundations of higher learning
In this paper I will explore the relationship between higher education and contemporary formulations of pragmatism, particularly the transactionalist pragmatism of Colin Koopman. Koopman’s pragmatism belongs to a strain of philosophy that emphasizes the the anti-foundationalist leanings of John Dewey and other pragmatists. Indeed, Koopman urges pragmatism to jettison the idea of experience altogether, as it carries with it too much metaphysical baggage.
Running counter to this philosophical argument about the place of experience within pragmatism are persistent calls for more experience within higher education, particularly the liberal arts. Experiential education is having a bit of a moment, as the connection between what happens within the classroom and what happens outside of the classroom is emphasized. In fact, the concept of the traditional classroom itself is called into question, whether it be from those who emphasize place-based learning like study abroad or from those who seek to use technology to turn the classroom into a space devoted to problem-solving. Within the liberal arts sphere, an increased emphasis on experiential education is viewed as a way to defend the liberal arts against charges of irrelevance. By showing how the lessons of literature, for example, operate “in the world,” proponents of the liberal arts hope to attract students and defend their departments against those who view education only through the lens of economic utility.
There is little contemporary work on the philosophical foundations of this experiential educational movement, though much lip service is paid to the pragmatism of John Dewey. Jay Roberts’ recent books Beyond Learning by Doing and Experiential Education in the College Context are exceptions. The later offers examples of how experiential education might operate within higher education, while the former is an examination of the philosophical ideas that underpin experiential education. Key to this is the idea of “experience.” Roberts briefly traces this concept though critical theory, Romanticism, and, of course, Deweyan pragmatism.
Roberts’ interpretation of the Deweyan roots of experiential education leans heavily on the social and transactional nature of pragmatism. Experience is a transaction between self and world, moving pragmatism away from a passive empiricism. The self is also formed in transaction with others; it is essentially social. This transactional account of experience leads to Dewey’s famous conception of education as reconstruction. Education becomes the reorganization of experience to add meaning to and direct future iterations of experience.
Given the centrality of experience for Dewey’s conception of education, and given the importance of education to Dewey’s overall philosophical project, does it make sense to have a pragmatism without experience? Even if so, does a non-experiential pragmatism have anything interesting to say about higher learning? My paper will explore those questions, arguing that experience is an essential component of philosophical pragmatism and contemporary debates about higher education. I’ll also argue that we can retain a conception of experience that supplies the necessary degrees of uncertainty and fallibilism Koopman believes are necessary for moral and political progress.
Why is this discussion of experience, pragmatism, and higher learning important? Underlying this argument about a specific strand of pragmatism is not a concern with “pragmatist purity” or even correct interpretations of Dewey. I agree with Koopman that there’s certainly room for his interpretation of pragmatism and also agree that re-interpretation is often necessary and useful for intellectual and social progress. My larger concern is rather with the degree to which some form of foundationalism -- epistemological, moral, or otherwise -- might be necessary to defend the liberal arts against the predations of consumer capitalism.
Much of the language defining higher education today is that of the market. The liberal arts are forced into the position of defining themselves in terms of “marketable skills” or be further marginalized. It seems as if there are two options available to liberal arts defenders -- articulate a reason the liberal arts are valuable to the market or define the liberal arts as providing something above and beyond economic utility. My hope is that pragmatism, with its tradition of resolving dualisms, might present us with a way to reconcile these two approaches. To put it another way, pragmatism might give us a way to reconcile the necessity of labor with the ideal of leisure, but only if we are able to articulate the role and value of experience within higher education in a way that is responsive to the present landscape of higher learning.

For Its Own Sake: Conceptualizing Freedom, Intellectual Work and Human Flourishing in the Liberal Arts and Professions.
Contemporary conflicts between education in the professions and education in the liberal arts are sometimes taken to be novel manifestations of the culture of late modernism. The rise of the corporate university, the massive expansion of access to higher education throughout the 20st century, the reconfiguration of education as a private good required for access to the middle class rather than a public good necessary to social functioning, all these are seen as coming at the cost of the liberal arts in general and the humanities in particular. The result in the minds of many in the humanities is a disfigured form of academic life, with colleges and universities abandoning the high calling to pursue knowledge "for its own sake" in favor of baser utilitarian motives focused on securing one's own material prosperity. Responding to the question posed by Andrew Delbanco, "What is College For?" many of us in the humanities may disagree as to to our answer, but we tend to all agree that education in general and college in particular used to be for something-freedom, knowledge for its own sake, civic engagement, the common good-that it is suddenly no longer seems to be for, to its detriment as well as our own.
This narrative of change can mask the fact that the purposes of education have been a point of contention for as long as we have had reflection on the nature of learning. From Greek disagreements as to whether free men should pursue learning to prepare for success in public life or pursue education to subdue passions and achieve enlightenment, to early Christian and medieval disagreements on whether education led one further from or closer to God, to divisions between Booker T. Washington and W.E.B. DuBois as to whether African American freedom would be more effectively pursued through the education of a talented tenth in the liberal arts or of everyone in the practical arts; These various disagreements turn not simply on different conviction or different evidence, but very often they turn as well on significantly different conceptualizations of fundamental terms. These differences are many, but for the purposes of this paper I will focus in on different understandings of freedom and of human flourishing. What do we mean by freedom, and how do we imagine education contributes to securing it? What should human flourishing look like, and, again, how might education contribute to its achievement? Implicit within this investigation is an assumption that by looking carefully at our understanding of these terms, we might be able to arrive not simply at a negotiated peace to the war between education in the professions and education in the liberal arts; we might be able to arrive at a robust understanding of how professional education and education in the liberal arts may be reconfigured to achieve a common purpose.
Church related higher education can play a crucial role in this reconfiguration, not least because it can offer points of intervention in thinking through some of the basic ways that we think about education and its purposes. Especially, fully incarnational views of education would reconfigure sharp divisions between education for vocational and career concerns over and against education for intellectual development. Moreover, Christian conceptions of freedom as freedom for others and for God would enable a more robust understanding of human flourishing, one that suggests that individual self-realization and well-being are only achieved within a collective commitment to the flourishing of all rather than the achievements of the individual in abstract isolation. Finally, reinvigorating a fully Christian understanding of both learning and human vocation as being oriented toward the love of God and of others, rather than toward individual self-realization or toward the love of knowledge for its own sake may help us envision a fully integrated ideal for education that is simultaneously utilitarian and ideal. Oriented toward the love of God, the pursuit of knowledge and the pursuit of vocation reflect a common purpose and intention, one that can be realized most effectively in institutions that self-consciously seek to reconfigure both professional and liberal arts education toward that common end.

Pathways to Success for Non-Christian Students Attending Christian Colleges and Universities
The United States is the most religiously diverse country in the world (Easterbrook, 2002). A 2014 survey conducted by the Pew Foundation found that 28.7% of the U.S. population indicated a faith perspective that is not Christian (Pew Forum on Religion and Public Life, 2014). Wuthnow (2005), author of /America and the Challenges of Religious Diversity/, suggested that “the growing religious diversity of our society poses a significant cultural challenge” (p. xv). More than ever before in the history of the United States, religiously diverse students are entering a system of higher education that has been heavily influenced by the Christian church from its inception (Lyon, Beaty, & Mixon, 2002). In the US, there are well over 1,000 private faith-based colleges and universities representing most major religions and Christian denominations (“Faith-Based Options at Colleges and Universities,” n.d.). This paper explores this intersection of increasing religious diversity and Christian higher education.
Recent scholarship has determined that college students who self-identity with a religious minority experience increased levels of spiritual struggle and alienation (Astin, Astin, & Lindholm, 2011). Furthermore, non-Christian students attending a typical Christian institution receive less support and are less likely to succeed in college than their Christian peers (Nash 2003; Sax 2002; Speck 1997). According to research (Bowman & Small, 2010; Bryant, 2010), levels of spiritual struggle and psychological well-being differ between students of majority and minority faiths.
This paper addresses the degree of institutional fit and overall thriving that non-Christian students reported as a part of the national project on College Student Thriving. Thriving is defined as optimal functioning academically, interpersonally, and intra-personally (Schreiner, 2010a, 2010b, 2010c). Studies related to Thriving suggest that religious involvement and overall spirituality contribute significantly to the variation in thriving for students (Schreiner, Kalinkewicz, McIntosh, & Cuevas, 2013). Recent scholarship has effectively identified the deficit of the student experience for religious minorities; however, no prior study has been conducted to identify pathways to Thriving for religious minorities attending Christian institutions. The operating premise of this study is that thriving offers a unique lens through which to explore the psychological processes that impact the well-being and ultimately, retention and success of non-Christian students attending Christian institutions of higher education.
Using a national sample of 1,809 college students generated as a part of the Fall 2015 Thriving project, this study employed structural equation modeling to analyze the differences in pathways to thriving for students based upon religious preference. Although several areas of improvement were suggested, this study found that 80% of religious minority students reported high levels of thriving at Christian institutions. The findings further suggest that participation in religious activities can strengthen levels of spirituality which bolsters the pathway to thriving. Ultimately, feelings of belonging, interconnectedness, and community are strong contributors of Thriving for students in the religious minority.
The student experience in college is complex and requires multiple sources of research to better understand under-represented populations. As Christian institutions continue to seek to educate students regardless of their religious perspective, the recognition of Christian privilege and the implementation of new approaches that ensure inclusion of all students will be imperative. However, this study suggests that fervent dedication to institutional practices that expose students to the worship, witness, and work of the Christian church ultimately enhance the potential for thriving among religious minorities. Religious services should remain consistent while ensuring that the programming be non-coercive and inviting of those who are not Christians. This paper suggests that there are pathways to thriving for students in the religious minority attending Christian institutions. The most efficient path includes faculty, staff, and students who exude a posture that models the pattern of Jesus Christ who shared in a parable on the Mount of Olives, “I was a stranger and you welcomed me” (Matthew 25:35b New Revised Standard Version)."

Toward an Interpersonal Pedagogy and Curriculum in Aid of Spiritual Formation in the University
In this paper I make two arguments. First, the standard university has in place a number of formative practices and patterns that can either help or hinder spiritual formation into the likeness of Jesus. In doing so I argue that the university in general and the classroom in particular has their own type of liturgy. Semesters divide the year and establish a reliable pattern of various kinds of transformative moments. By highlighting several of these events I explain how they can impact the spiritual development of students.
Secondly, I argue that educators at Christian universities ought to adopt pedagogical strategies and practices that make positive use of these transformative moments already naturally present in the classroom and university life. Here I explain how educators act as agent of transformation through an interpersonal model of spiritual formation which makes use of attachment theory in psychology. I place this all in the context of a model of spiritual formation that is aimed at the character of the whole student, which is largely informed by the work of Dallas Willard.
In application I offer a number of practical steps educators can naturally adopt into their curriculum that can help students grow in spiritual formation unto Jesus. For example, I offer a way of introducing the life of a study as one that embraces regularly dying to self and how approaching study this way can change our heart. I offer a prayer exercises that help students bring God into how they understand their self-worth in relation to the grades they receive. I examine a way of approaching study that pursues interpersonal growth that can help in hearing others, knowing the self, and hearing from God. Lastly, I explore a number of prayer practices that can be introduced into the classroom to aid students in receiving the presence and activity of God that is mindful of the opportunities certain moments of the semester provide.

Cultivating Virtue — Against a Safe Christian Education
A trigger warning is a statement that a film or work of literature portrays scenes that some may find disturbing, especially for those who have experienced similar events themselves. Faculty, at both Christian and secular institutions report an increased desire, if not demand, for trigger warnings in the classroom. Although such warnings may be desirable for those who seek a "safe" Christian education, they are ultimately detrimental to the cultivation of moral virtue.
On one hand, we ought to be sensitive to the emotional needs of others. Several years ago, I was at a conference with an Army colleague who had lost friends in the Korangal Valley of Afghanistan. When the speaker began showing clips from the documentary portraying a combat unit in the Korangal Valley, I watched my colleague appear increasingly uncomfortable. From her reaction, I don't think she was prepared to relive those experiences, especially in public.
On the other hand, it seems that many of the trigger warnings used today in higher education, or at least Christian higher education, are not used to protect those who have had disturbing experiences in the past. Instead, they are used to protect innocent minds from having particular kinds of experiences at all, like hearing vulgar speech or seeing a nude body. Such trigger warnings are concessions to those who want education to be safe, and students to be protected from the vulgar, profane, and offensive.
The world, though, is often vulgar, profane, and offensive, and to portray it otherwise is a lie. It is impossible for students to receive a Christian education and never encounter the world as it, for a Christian education in which students never encounter accounts of violence, drunkenness, and rape would be a Christian education in which students never read Genesis — that is, it would not be a Christian education at all.
Trigger warnings serve two purposes. First, they give students the opportunity to opt out of engaging the material. Second, they give students the opportunity to mentally and emotionally prepare themselves for the disturbing material that lay ahead. To do the former is to opt out of an education, but what could be wrong with the latter?
There are some events to which the only appropriate emotional responses are shock and horror. To portray these events in ways that do not elicit shock and horror is to do so in a way that ensures that students fail to have the appropriate moral responses. So, in an effort to avoid emotional harm to students, we have caused moral harm instead. Our goal in Christian education should not be to sanitize the world, but to encounter it as it is in the context of a community of love and grace.
As God's creation, the world is filled with examples of beauty and grace, but in its present fallen state, it is also filled with examples of cruelty and horror. To portray only the horror is to leave students in cynicism and despair; to portray only the beauty is to leave students in gullible idealism and naiveté. Neither genuinely prepares students to deliver the gospel of Christ to a beautiful, yet broken, world.

Encouraging the Spirit: The Role of Student-Faculty Interactions in College Students’ Meaning-Making and Spiritual Quest.
Over the past twenty years, colleges and universities have faced increasing criticism for an apparent shift away from their historic mission to educate whole students and toward an increasing focus on students as consumers and training students for their future careers (Lewis, 2007; Palmer & Zajonc, 2010). Critics argue that this shift leaves a gap in students’ affective outcomes such as care for others and the inner self; suggesting that a focus on holistic development, and spirituality in particular, may bolster these affective outcomes (Astin, Astin, & Lindholm, 2011; Colby, Ehrlich, Beaumont & Stevens, 2003). While research on this topic has identified some ways that college generally may influence spiritual outcomes, it has largely neglected to examine the impact of faculty. In particular, little research has examined how the nature of interactions with faculty may influence students’ spirituality in college.
The influence of faculty in student academic and affective development is well- documented. Positive interactions with faculty are related to increases in student retention, GPA, and well-being (Braskamp, Trautvetter, & Ward, 2006; Pascarella & Terenzini 2005). Considering spirituality, when faculty encourage students to explore questions of meaning and purpose, students are more likely to pursue a quest for spirituality (Astin, et al., 2011). Likewise, when professors encourage students’ spiritual pursuits, students tend to show increases in spiritual characteristics. Additionally, use of student-centered pedagogies in class show some relationship with students’ spiritual growth (Astin, 1977; 1993; Astin et al., 2011; Braskamp, et al., 2006). However, some gender differences are noted in the research, with women and men reporting different frequency of interaction with faculty and different experiences in those interactions (Bryant, 2007).
Drawing upon faith development theory (Fowler, 1981; Parks, 2000) and considering relevant college impact theories, this study uses a national, longitudinal dataset to examine how in- and out-of-class interactions with faculty can influence students’ spiritual outcomes in college, specifically students’ meaning-making and spiritual quest - paying close attention to gender differences. Initial findings reveal that although students experience lecture pedagogies most frequently, when faculty use student-centered and spiritual pedagogies in the classroom, both men and women show higher gains in their spiritual outcomes. Additionally, outside of class, when faculty encourage student spiritual exploration, and act as spiritual role models, student are more likely to show growth in their spiritual quest and meaning-making outcomes. The relevance of these findings for faculty, student affairs staff, and future research will be explored.

Creating Good Soil: Re-envisioning Graduate Student Life and Graduate Education at Faith-Based Institutions
Unlike the history of American undergraduate education, graduate education in the U.S. does not have British roots. American graduate education was built on the German research institutional model, and the negative effects of that model have been plaguing graduate students ever since. Graduate student attrition, the idea of institutional ownership, the isolating effect of the discipline silo, as well as the departmental and institutional culture, all play a role in the culture of graduate education today. Only within the past few decades has there been a concerted effort to research the efficacy of graduate education and the development of graduate students. Current attrition rates of doctoral students nationwide are unreasonably high and it is clear from the literature that graduate students seem to be searching for something more in their graduate student experience than what the historical model has provided.
In an effort to create a more holistic and faith driven approach to graduate education, this article utilizes the guiding principles of Mission, Assessment, Community Development, Communication, and Stewardship to evaluate the graduate school and graduate student life at three faith-based institutions—two Catholic and one Protestant. The institutions discussed in this paper offer compelling representations of the best and the worst of graduate student life at faith-based institutions. There were a number of particularly striking observations in this study: the lack of stewardship opportunities, especially in regards to community involvement and service learning, and the scant evidence of efforts to assist graduate students in cultivating their faith as rising researchers and scholars.
Attempting to construct a model or guiding principles for Christian graduate education remains a challenging task, given the innumerable conflicting variables involved. Despite the obstacles, creating a distinct vision of Christian graduate education is an invaluable mission to pursue and the principles of mission, assessment, community development, communication, and stewardship are suitable places to begin the journey. Ultimately, our ability to form and prepare future Christian graduate faculty depends on our ability to form and prepare Christian graduate students; and arguably, the future of the Christian university may depend upon it.

The (Theological) Ethics of Mathematics Education
Demographic minorities remain heavily underrepresented in collegiate mathematics. There is a growing commitment, however, to expanding educational access to these students. On the one hand, it may feel self-evident to a Christian that Christians ought to be concerned for the educational welcome and integration of all. On the other hand, if we are to do that well, we need an answer to the question, “How?”
In this paper, I reconstruct a theological paradigm for understanding why the integration of demographic minorities and student participation in the classroom is a theological concern. I first outline the theological paradigm with which I am operating. In the second half of the paper, I develop the implications of that outline for teaching methods in the mathematics classroom. Specifically, I advocate for the adaptation of Critical Education Theory and inquiry-based learning methods.
The theological paradigm which I outline begins with a theology of creation which affirms that creation is fundamentally intersubjective and interdependent. By intersubjective, I mean that everything in creation exists in and through others, and for others. By interdependent, I mean that creation does not merely have the capability of being intersubjective, but is so by nature. Objects in creation cannot be themselves in isolation from the rest of creation. From these principles, it follows that to “be” the creation requires healthy practices of interdependence. I then outline some ethical principles, implicit in this theology of creation, for such healthy practices, or for the case at hand, conditions for reliable knowledge production.
Paulo Freire’s work allows us to be more specific about a teaching philosophy consistent with this creaturely situation and its epistemic conditions. Central to Freire’s philosophy in Pedagogy of the Oppressed is the concept of conscientization: the process of “learning to perceive social, political, and economic contradictions, and to take action against the oppressive elements of reality.” (p.35 Translator’s note) Put differently, we can understand conscientization as critical consciousness and conscience working together: A person comes to an awareness that they are unfairly oppressed or oppressing others (perhaps both, in different spheres of life), and is then convicted of complicitness in either maintaining that state of oppression or working for liberation. This is a situation of improper forms of interdependence. Conscientization forms the foundation for praxis, the ability to take the needed steps to attain liberation. The critical pedagogy movement drew heavily on Freire, through the work of theorists like Henry Giroux, and in America, John Dewey, Michael Apple, and Ivan Illich (among many others). Defining features of critical pedagogy include an emphasis on critical consciousness and praxis, a problem-posing pedagogy rather than “banking” pedagogy, and literacy as “reading the work and the world simultaneously.” (see, for example, Freire and D.P Macedo, Literacy: Reading the Word and the World, Bergin and Garvey, South Hadley, MA, 1987)
These concepts of critical consciousness, praxis, and “literacy” provide a way forward for implementing the ethical principles required by the theological framework described above. Inclusivity, honesty, and equity cultivate proper forms of interdependence and thereby contribute to mutual flourishing. Critical pedagogy suggests that these things can be achieved through a process of critical education for both student and teacher which includes awareness of power structures, conviction that change is needed, and tools for enacting change.
Where do the ideas of Freire and critical education come into contact with mathematics education? In answer, I develop F. Aslan Tutak’s argument that critical mathematics education should “combine multiculturalism and equity efforts with a critical perspective in order to overcome stereotypes about mathematics and mathematics teaching, and foster democratic values and critical consciousness.” (F. Aslan Tutak, et al, Critical Pedagogy for Critical Mathematics Education, International Journal of Mathematical Education in Science and Technology, 42:1, 65-74. 2011)
From the mid-1980s, several scholars have developed articulations of critical mathematics education. These articulations have focused on “reading the world with mathematics,” and on using mathematics to challenge assumptions about the structure of society. Implementations have been primarily geared toward remedial or adult education. I am looking at a different point of contact: the technical, or advanced mathematics classroom. How can we ensure that the classroom is diverse and that all students are positioned for success? How do people really learn mathematical concepts well? The methods of inquiry-based learning provide a way forward for the practices of critical mathematics education that is compatible with the philosophy of critical education. In inquiry-based learning, and other student-centered pedagogies, the “banking method” which Freire repudiates, is exchanged in favor of an environment in which students and teacher “learn together,” as students engage in sense-making activities.

Mentorship from the University Professional: A Comparison Between Faith-Based and Secular Institutions
Professionals who work at universities have a unique opportunity to speak into the lives of their students in a different manner than the students’ friends, parents, or siblings. University staff, faculty, and administrators are able to serve as caring, passionate mentors who demonstrate an interest in the daily lives of their students. Like the Evangelist character in John Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress, they serve as guides in the students’ journeys, offering them guidance, hope, challenging perspectives, and supportive wisdom. In essence, when acting as mentors, university professionals function as developmental coach for their students and make movement from first-year orientation to graduation more meaningful. This role is crucial in an increasingly pluralistic context and functions as a way of relating students’ current situations to an overarching narrative. In the best situations, the mentorship relationship offers a sense-making space in which students connect their experiences to a more complex understanding of their calling.
In this 26-participant, qualitative study, the researcher examined the different impacts of mentorship on students in two different locations: (1) colleges and universities that are part of the Council for Christian Colleges and Universities (CCCU), and (2) similar mentorship relationships at secular or state universities. Mentors included Vice Presidents of Student Affairs, Student Activities Directors, Residence Life staff, and University Chaplains. Due to the vast amount of literature on the faculty’s role in helping a student discover his or her vocation or calling, the researcher explicitly focused upon the role of the co-curricular in providing mentors for individual students. While faculty may serve this role, non-faculty university professionals’ capacity as mentors is understudied. This part of the administrator and support staff members’ roles is greatly lacking and needs further, direct study.
Four major findings emerged as a result of the data analysis. First, while students at faith-based and secular institutions used different language to describe their mentorship relationships, the overall “story” of these relationships remained consistent between the two groups. Mentees were attracted to mentors for a specific reason. The mentee then sought out one-on-one meetings with his or her chosen mentor. Through the process of forming a friendship/coaching relationship with the mentor and through the use of several, good mentorship techniques, the mentee began to trust his or her mentor. These meetings continued until the mentee had achieved the goal of the relationship or until university graduation occurred. The mentee then emerged from the mentorship relationship with a deeper understanding of his or her purpose, calling, or life trajectory. It is important to note that this “story” focused almost exclusively on the needs and interests of the mentee.
Second, each of the students in the study, despite their institution’s religious or nonreligious affiliation, spoke of their mentor as having specific qualities that he or she considered noteworthy, praiseworthy, or admirable. These “model qualities” connected to the students’ sense-making and ideal narrative of the world. Third, each of the students in this study who attended faith-based institutions sought out mentors who could not only provide direction in terms of a future career, lifestyle habits and choices, or coursework, but also sought out mentors outside the classroom who could teach them about their developing Christian faith and identity. Discipleship was an important component of relationships with mentors at faith-based institutions. However, this conversation was notably lacking in mentorship relationships that did not originate at Christian settings. Finally, three participants, spanning both faith-based and secular universities, had negative mentorship relationships that directly paralleled the stories of positive, mentorship relationships. These experiences provide a model to be avoided for the secular and faith-based administrator alike.
Mentorship is a key part of the university student’s experience, and is a role that faith-based universities are uniquely positioned to fill. Christian universities have an important responsibility in teaching their students explicitly Christian wisdom and modeling what it looks like to live the “good life.” This study hopes to provide higher education scholars and practitioners with narratives that demonstrate the effects of good mentorship relationships upon a student’s growing sense of life purpose and calling. By understanding the “mentorship narrative” more explicitly, university professionals will be able to assess their institutional cultures’ and “make room” in both curricular and co-curricular for these relationships to occur. Through continued “cultural curation,” faith-based universities can become alternate communities that spur their students towards deeper narrative-writing and sense-making.

The Two Problems of Liberal Education
The challenges facing liberal education seem overwhelming. Collapsing enrollments, waning prestige, declining support, frustrated faculty—it’s hard to know where triage should begin. But the problems confronting liberal education are in many ways new versions of old problems, and our inability to recognize them as such needlessly worsens our confusion.
The deepest difficulties confronting the humanities are not economic, bureaucratic, or even political. They are internal to the liberal arts themselves, accompanying its practice wherever genuine liberal education is found. At all times and places, the liberal arts have confronted two problems. In this paper, I will call them, imperfectly, the social problem and the anthropological problem. The first is concerned with the tension between liberal education and the society it seeks to inform. The “problem” here is that liberal education promotes membership in an educated public that rarely exists. The second is concerned with the tension between liberal education and the human being it seeks to instruct. The “problem” here is that liberal education promotes a kind of human freedom that is opposed to all social, biological, or economic necessity.
In this paper, I will describe explain how an awareness of these two problems as permanent and fundamental are a central part of the liberal arts tradition. I will also explain how an ignorance of these problems now hinders our ability to think responsibly and productively about the challenges that confront liberal education in the third millennium.
My goals is to show that understanding the two problems of liberal education will do more than help us better understand the acute crisis in the humanities. It will also teach us a lost lesson about so about the nature of liberal education.

Integrating Faith and Learning in the Western Civilization Surveys
At the end of the Divine Comedy, the Pilgrim beholds the Beatific Vision of the Triune God. Totally absorbed as he gazes into the Light, he sees a depiction of a man’s image in the second of its three rings. He yearns to understand the Incarnation, but his own human power of reason is insufficient. Dante uses a mathematical analogy to make this point: “As the geometer who tries so hard to square the circle, but cannot discover, think as he may, the principal involved, so did I strive with this new mystery … but my own wings could not take me so high – then a great flash of understanding struck my mind, and suddenly its wish was granted.” The problem of squaring the circle is one of the oldest and most celebrated problems in the history of mathematics. Even though its final solution came more than five centuries after Dante’s death, the history of the solution likely makes his theological point better than he could have conceived at the time. We will discuss Dante’s climactic ending in light of this history with an eye toward 1. Mathematical insight into the relationship between faith and reason, and 2. Theological insight into the relationship between mathematics and creation.

“Cleaner Feet: Speculations on Christian Humility and College Teaching”
"What would college teaching and learning be like if primarily guided by Christian humility?
Several secondary questions follow:• What can humility contribute to a college teacher’s development? How can self-reflection on humility form a teacher? What kinds of humility?• What can humility contribute to a college student’s learning? What classroom practices might best encourage students to embrace humility? What kinds of humility?• How might a classroom so influenced by humility differ from one without the emphasis?
Humility has many meanings. In Christian tradition it is the kenosis, Christ’s self-emptying on the cross for others. It is self-forgetfulness while serving a group or cause beyond the self. The Desert Fathers thought humility the primary means for dealing with temptation. Augustine saw it as the reciprocal engagement of love and brotherhood that allowed for true virtue. Benedict made humility the glue of monastic communal life. Bernard of Clairvaux termed it the first step toward true charity. More recently, humility appears as the ultimate “reality check,” honestly assessing one’s qualities and thus pertaining to vocation. It is the precondition for all other Christian spiritual emotions. For the community’s benefit, humility is “a way of accepting and receiving without the proviso of just deserts.”
All these definitions point to deep vulnerability and mutuality as both characteristics and fruits. Humility promises unrecognized, beneficial ties between teacher and students. Pope John Paul II once described “the core, the incandescent center of all educational activity: co-operating in the discovery of the true image which God’s love has impressed indelibly upon every person and which is preserved in the mystery of his own love. . . . Educating means recognizing in every person and speaking about every person the truth that is Jesus, so that every person may be set free. Free from the slavery forced upon him, free from the slavery, even more rigorous and terrible, which he imposes on himself.” He concludes, “The mystery of education is thus closely linked to the mystery of vocation, that is, the mystery of that ‘name’ by which the Father called and predestined us in Christ even before the world’s foundation.”
This vocational description of teaching rests in humble acts of “co-operating,” “recognizing,” and “speaking.” It is a pedagogical equivalent to Jesus’ washing of the disciple’s feet, an intimate, gentle act of service, fulfilled in its enactment toward others.
Insights from twentieth-century philosophical personalism—John Paul II’s own variety included—help clarify the nature and benefits of such vulnerability and mutuality, for both teacher and students. These include:• a centrality of vocation that promotes the spiritual life as guide for all other activities• an augmented emphasis on the subject of collective study as “sacred” • an environment to discuss and promote intellectual virtues, the life-long pursuit of wisdom, and the cultivation of humility as psychologically beneficial• an emphasis on reality and “connectedness” that prepares students for life and work outside the college.
With these ends in mind, it is possible to address the questions raised above—to recommend the kinds of humility best suited for the college classroom; to suggest some concrete ways to promote humility within both teacher and students; to understand better the spiritual and personal benefits of a vocational description of teaching, the ultimate goal of which is to discover in each person “the truth that is Jesus, so that every person may be set free.” Humility allows both teacher and students to recognize and speak this liberating truth, to approximate that “name”—identity, purpose, calling, situatedness-in-the-world—that comes from God alone.
This paper portrays humility as the chief quality within a vocational description of teaching and learning, arguing for the quality’s central place in both teacher and student formation."

A Virtuous Education
"Those of us who have dedicated our lives to the liberal arts, first as students and then as teachers to our students, are supposed to be on notice in this day and age. An education in productive crafts, whether in the traditional trades—“we need more plumbers, not philosophers”—or the new crafts signified by Silicon Valley, is all the rage. The liberal arts are dying, unable to justify their own existence. If we are to save them, we must subvert them to the productive crafts: mathematics to computer programming, natural sciences to the extension and easement of life, economics to management, the fine arts to graphic design, and the humanities to marketing in its many permutations. We must prove the liberal arts to be useful; we must render them slavish.
There is, of course, no dishonor in the productive crafts if they are practiced well. And, to be sure, a liberal arts education prepares one for them like no other education can. But there is dishonor in the pretense that we are engaged in an enterprise other than what we are. We need greater clarity, not less, about the noble work on which we labor. We need to train our focus on the ergon, the proper work, of those engaged in liberal education so that we might perform that work excellently.
What we aim at through a liberal arts education is nothing less than benefiting our students with the gift of their humanity. Seen from the broadest perspective, a liberal arts education worthy of the name is culture shaping and dedicated to the purpose of handing on to the next generation the best of the culture we ourselves have inherited. It is a traditional and conservational endeavor. It is a liberal and innovative endeavor.
Seen from the perspective of the individual students we teach, what we are engaged in is nothing less than nurturing in them the moral virtues they have already been partially formed in, cultivating in them the intellectual virtues they have only begun to be animated by, and, especially in the context of a Christian liberal arts education, opening to them a fulsome landscape for a rich development in and exercise of the theological virtues. The role played by the institution of higher learning is different for different sorts of virtues: habituation in the moral virtues is primarily the work of parents, cultivation of many of the intellectual virtues are primarily the work of educators (which includes parents, of course), and the cultivation of the theological virtues is primarily the work of God. And yet, with respect to each of these virtues the university plays an important role, at times primary and at times secondary, but all in the service of a virtuous education.
In this paper I will argue that what justifies a liberal arts education is its cultivation of virtue in the individual student, so that those well-formed students might in turn put their work and indeed their very lives in the service of the common good. To defend this thesis I will define virtue, explore the classification of different virtues, articulate those virtues which are especially pertinent to a liberal education, distinguish the different ways in which a university education nurtures or inculcates different virtues, and finally look to the manner in which an excellent and freeing education builds a community of friends that provides the basis for a life in service to others."

“The Queen of the Sciences: The University, Logic of Inquiry, and Essential Role of Philosophy”
"For the university to fulfill its institutional purpose of displaying the logic of inquiry, philosophy should be its core discipline. The university assumes the social role of providing the proper way to inquire intellectually into the many and salient aspects of the human experience. Reductionism, which selects one way of inquiring about the world (for example, economics or biology), cannot help a university fulfill its role, because it truncates the logic of inquiry. Inquiry works for a holistic integration, though not a final one, of the various knowledge claims about the world. The university exhibits this holism in its implicit intellectual structure represented by three broad ideas, which shape its various studies, subjects, and disciplines—functional ideas (how things are done), productive ideas (what kind of professions does society need), and foundational ideas (why the world is the way it is and why do we value and believe what we do).
To foster the holism inherent in the logic of inquiry, the university must show how to integrate these kinds of ideas and questions. It can do this through its curriculum requirements. Even though not aspects of philosophy systematically investigate the salient aspects of the human experience (for example, sub-disciplines like the philosophy of mathematics and linguistic analysis), philosophy offers ways to help account for the interrelations of the sciences, politics, arts, morality, and religion. A study of the systems of Plato, Aristotle, St. Thomas, Kant, Hegel, or John Dewey, for example, would show to students ways to take seriously the fundamental questions raised by our culture (for example, the meaningfulness of the physical world, the ultimate conditions of experience, the importance of a just society, the insights given by art, the challenge of evil to faith and human nature, etc.), and the importance of following through the logic of inquiry. Thus, for the university to fulfill its institutional role in society, it should require each undergraduate to take a capstone course in systematic philosophy and each graduate and professional student to take a course on how their specialized inquiry contributes to the holism of knowledge.
In summary, my argument, in syllogistic form, is the following:
The logic of inquiry is a holistic integration of knowledge.
This type of knowledge conditions the intellectual structure of the university.
This structure requires academic disciplines that raise fundamental questions and that offer systematic ways to understand the human experience.
Therefore, because philosophy does both, it is a core and essential academic discipline.

Forming Philosophy Teachers: Using A Plato Graduate Seminar as Pedagogical Training and Professional Development
In this paper, I reflect on an innovative approach to teaching a graduate Plato seminar. It focuses both on the content of the Platonic dialogues and on preparing graduate students to become better classroom teachers by developing a teaching competency in Ancient Philosophy. I draw upon the work of Carolin Kreber. Kreber hopes to find ways to integrate the scholarship of teaching and learning into graduate education. She rightly notes that, “Most programs allow for little synthesis between discipline knowledge and pedagogy” (80). This is particularly unfortunate because “programs pay little attention to the reality that the one form of knowledge dissemination their graduates will practice most frequently upon securing a faculty position is teaching the subject to other students” (80).
Kreber’s concern about whether “educating students exclusively in the discipline, that is, in the structure, critique, and advancement of discipline-specific knowledge- as crucial and necessary as such an education is-is sufficient to adequately address the broader education goal of fostering lifelong learning” (86) resonated with me. I already was using the Plato seminar as a means to encourage students to write papers to enhance their scholarly credentials. However, after reading Kreber’s work, I realized that most philosophers, regardless of research specialization, teach Plato in a variety of undergraduate contexts. Virtually every introduction to philosophy class deals with Plato in some way. Plato also figures prominently in Introduction to Ethics courses and even Philosophy of Religion and Critical Thinking courses. Beyond that, in small liberal arts colleges and community colleges, where most of our graduate students end up teaching, faculty will be called upon to teach survey courses in Ancient Philosophy. I decided to capitalize on this dimension of the profession of philosophy. I would train my graduate students to be excellent teachers of Plato. I decided to make developing a competency in teaching Plato specifically, and ancient philosophy more generally, a sub goal of the course.
Our department has a semester long course, A Workshop in Teaching Philosophy, that all graduate students are required to take before they become instructors of record. We also have a very structured process where ll graduate students serve as teaching assistants for three different undergraduate courses before teaching their own course. We also ensure that each student teaches Intro, Ethics, Logic, and a special topics course. They are evaluated every semester by faculty members in the department, so there is already some culture of teaching preparation present in the department. However, integrating teaching into a “content” course had no precedent.
With the aim of fostering more of an appreciation for learning, for learning how to teach Plato, and for cultivating a desire to become life long learners in my students, and more importantly cultivating a desire in them to promote life–long learning in their own students, I restructured the course to include a pedagogical focus
I did this is six ways.
1. I drew our attention to pedagogical content of the dialogues
2. I also explored the pedagogical style of the dialogues.
3. I modeled how I taught various aspects of the Dialogues to undergraduates.
4. I shared how the Socratic model influences my own teaching persona and my classroom strategies.
5. I repeatedly asked the grad students to reflect on how they would teach Plato to undergraduates.
6. If they were already teaching, I asked them to share their experiences with the other members of the seminar.
These practices made our engagement with the texts significantly richer. We read the texts differently because we were reading them together as teachers and students of Plato. The aim was to learn how to teach Plato well, an infinite more rewarding task than learning to use Plato to engage in contemporary philosophical debates. I believe this pedagogical focus in a graduate seminar would be applicable to many disciplines besides philosophy.

Reading to Know versus Reading to Experience: How can Teachers Transfer the True Value of Story?
When I teach literature classes, I often have the impression that my students expect me to simply tell them what a story "means." Their plan, as far as I can tell, is to then memorize the meaning of a particular story and convey that "correct" meaning in their course essays and answers to exam questions. For instance, a student recently asked me if he was right to assume, as a previous literature instructor had taught him, that Manley Pointer in Flannery O'Connor's "Good Country People" is a symbol for the devil, and that one of the messages of the story is that if you give the devil just a little (such as a leg), he will take everything. It is my contention, however, that stories should not necessarily be boiled down to these simplified abstract statements, that students must be encouraged to approach literature for something much deeper than an abstract message: as fiction writer Walter Wangerin Jr. would argue, all readers should look to stories not merely to receive abstract understanding, but concrete experience (Ragman and Other Cries of Faith 88). In other words, stories have the capability to convey not merely an abstract definition of redemption, but an experience of redemption. Not an understanding of injustice, but the experience of injustice. Flannery O'Connor argued, along the same lines, that abstract statements can never serve as substitutes for novels, that the writer "demonstrates [through story] something that cannot possibly be demonstrated any other way" (Mystery and Manners 75). In this paper, I will argue not only the importance of approaching stories with the agenda of gaining experience rather than abstract information, but also argue that at least one strategy for helping students approach literature in this way is to focus classroom discussions on finding the tension, rather than the "meaning," of a work of literature.

Comparative Religious Ethics as a Moral Discipline for Christian Colleges and Universities
In this presentation I will consider the benefits of offering comparative religious ethics as an elective or part of a religion requirement at Christian college and universities in the United States. I will argue that developing a sensitivity to how and why issues around peacemaking, marriage and family, consumption and the environment, and health and biomedical intervention are articulated by people of non-Christian (or subaltern Christian) traditions will grow student’s capacities to negotiate practical solutions to political and personal conflicts of values. I will argue that in addition to supporting existing college commitments to developing international leaders and effective advocates of social justice, comparative religious ethics is (perhaps surprisingly) a catalyst for deeper engagement with what it means to be a Christian and prompts students to expand their perspective on what an ethic is and how the gospel shapes a way of life, not just a decision procedure. Where I believe that offering comparative religious ethics is often seen as a threat to an emphasis on Christian ethics, or as reducible to a philosophical approach to ethics (in the form of “Business Ethics,” “Medical Ethics,” etc.), instead it should be seen as an opportunity to engage others who think that religious commitments are neither dispensable nor merely spiritualized.

Discernment in Higher Education: Scholarship of Personality and Spirituality
Scholarship focused on personality has blossomed in recent years, but little research in the field focuses either on the role of spirituality in self-understanding or on decisions made in higher learning that are influenced by personality. Some attention is given to the approach of Myers and Briggs in a student’s choice of a major and career, but it does not address the role of discernment. Christian spirituality, through the concept of vocation, makes significant contributions to these educational matters, but what more can be said about our spiritual practices and higher education? How might discernment shape moral character, relationships, as well as vocation and purpose in life? And, how do individual experiences, characteristics, and motivations shape our understanding of discernment?
This paper explores the nature of discernment looking at biblical and theological foundations for spiritual direction and understanding related to higher education. It is rooted in Jesus’ own commitment to reflection as a part of seeking God’s direction to understand his meaning and purpose in life. It promotes practices such as centering prayer to promote reflection for self-understanding that fosters spiritual awareness. The purpose is to encourage faculty to promote spiritual practices in their teaching communities, in the classroom, and in the lives of students for the purposes of helping them better connect higher learning with discerning purpose and direction in life.
As an example, the author presents the planning process of a professional school in a university setting seeking to implement a spiritual rule of life. Spiritual rules, such as the Rule of St. Benedict do not offer hard and fast laws, but models to provide support as we seek to follow Christ. This school’s rule promotes holistic personal formation in balancing mind, body, and heart as elements of self that shape discernment. The biblical notion of mind, body, and heart were clarified in the writings of Jung, Nicoll, and Gurdjieff and made popular in the Christian personality-based resource, the Enneagram. In these writings, balancing approaches to thinking, doing, and feeling invite us to reflect on what shapes us and to allow God to shape us in new ways. The goal of this school’s practice is to encourage the use of communal spiritual practices to shape their mission and vision, to clarify the role of teaching and research, and to encourage students to be discerning in professional higher education. “Tips for Helping a Student Choose a Major” is a common topic in blogs and orientation materials each year as new academic years commence and a concern for students and parents alike. Rather than relying solely on pragmatic tips, this paper suggests that developing a stronger sense of self-understanding and engaging in spiritual practices to seek God’s guidance are essential to the goals of higher education.

A Question of Ends: Dabney, Nevin and Newman on the Purpose of Education – A Re-Examination for the 21st Century
The world of the nineteenth century was one which was full of both promise and peril, especially in the Western world. As a result of both of these, people began to re-examine many of the existing cultural assumptions which had undergirded Western civilization. Perhaps this was nowhere more evident than in education. In America, the influx of new populations began to strain the assumptions built into the First Amendment's disestablishment clause. This resulted in the rethinking of the connection between religion and education and the rise of the public educational system. This attempt at a disconnect between religion and education also played out in Ireland, which as a part of the British Empire meant that church and state were connected and university students had to be members of the Church of England. This severely limited the options available to the Catholics in Ireland. An attempt to remove the religious component and make non-theological universities in Ireland was met with stiff resistance by the Catholic bishops of Ireland, and eventually led to the formation of their own university.
In both the American and the Irish contexts, many people responded both positively and negatively to this rethinking of the connection between religion and education. This paper will examine three people who challenged many of the assumptions of the new educational philosophy, but who especially focused on the end of education as a challenge to these philosophical changes. These three are: R.L. Dabney and John Williamson Nevin, both Americans, and John Henry Newman, writing on the Irish context. Though all three differ theologically, all three challenge the philosophical and theological assumptions on which this new idea of secular education is built. Using their writings as a framework, I will argue that their discussion of the end or purpose of education is an important consideration which needs to be brought back into our discussions about the future of education, especially, though not exclusively, at institutions of higher learning which are religiously connected.
Since education is more than simply the accumulation of facts or the gaining of a technical skill, we have to think in terms of education as being about the formation of the human person. Nevin phrased this in terms of mind; Dabney in terms of the rational soul; Newman in terms of service to humanity. Each of them reminds us that rather than being limiting, the inclusion of religion guarantees the continuation of our culture, our freedom and our democracy because these are based on a moral ideal which requires formation. I will conclude with a discussion of how this focus on ends gives us, of the 21st century, a needed renewal of purpose, without which, education loses its value and place in society.

Education Towards Meaning and Virtue
The deeply human themes that drive our lives--that give our lives meaning and point us towards virtue--can give us powerful motivation for learning. I'll describe how these themes have played out in my own context as a mathematical scientist in shaping my own teaching and work with students.

An Online Christian Doctoral Program in Education: Modeling Christianity for Public School Teachers and Leaders
Many models have been set forth in American institutions over the last four hundred years in terms of integrating faith and practice in higher education (Dockery, 2000). At Carson-Newman University, we have designed our doctoral program around personal connections and apprenticeship. Jesus preached to thousands, but he invested directly in the lives of a much smaller number of followers. We examine his apprenticeship model of educating Christian leaders and then discuss how these principles apply to our doctoral program.
This session will discuss the salient issues we face as we support the development of Christian teachers and administrators, most of whom serve in the public schools. Topics to be discussed in this session will include:• Modeling servant leadership in coursework and in personal connection• Maintaining the apprenticeship model of doctoral programs in an online environment• Coaching teachers and administrators on how to “Be Christian” in a public school setting• Supporting both faith and academia by navigating the lines between Christian beliefs and perceived conflicts with scientific and/or historic facts.

The Inheritance and Promise of Rhetorical Education and Belief
“Belief, as an expression of ultimate commitments, means nothing unless exemplified in action” ~Robert Denham
As scholar/teachers in rhetorical studies in both English and Communication are urging “a unified vision of rhetorical education” (“Mount Oread”), the time is ripe for those of us in rhetorical studies (and in disciplines to whom rhetorical education matters) to also re-evaluate the historical, religious connections of rhetoric as we work to teach students “to use language to speak and to write about public issues” (1), as well as “correct a perspective that rhetoric is somehow not a teaching tradition” (2).
I am struck by the connections and similarities between the initiatives of mission programs on college campuses as they engage in social justice activities often in recognition of where the heart of the Gospel message truly resides: “Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.” (Matt. 22.39). Rhetoric’s concern with the good person speaking “well” moves our field in similar directions. In fact, we could say that exploration of “well” and what communication of and acting upon that means in the personal and public lives of students and communities is the core of rhetorical study. That exploration is akin to the spiritual journey of finding the “good.”
How does rhetoric’s inheritance from the ethics teaching of the Classical tradition, the Christian re-focus of rhetoric’s aim to shape preachers in the Middle Ages, and more modern reframing of rhetorical education such as Peter Elbow’s believing game lead to faith integration in pedagogical practices? How does rhetorical education find the “good,” and how does it prepare students to do “well?”
As time permits, we will consider together Wayne C. Booth’s important, but overlooked 1991 essay, “Rhetoric and Religion: Are They Essentially Wedded?” and how he moves us to think about education in ultimate terms. Indeed, Booth allows us to view rhetorical education as an act of grace in a troubled and needy world. The presentation will also consider the journey that the study of rhetoric traveled co-joined with notions of belief from the Christianization of rhetoric fostered by Augustine to using those same principles in shaping the framework of the American educational system in the 1700s and 1800s both in values and curriculum. From this background information, we’ll examine the idea of belief as a way into thinking about how writing and other methods of composition actually form the basis of integrative teaching. We will quickly look at current practices and trends in composition studies (such as writing about place, the centrality of social justice teaching, the rise of creative non-fiction and memoir writing, and genre theory) and think about how other disciplines using writing engage with this kind of teaching and learning.
Finally, I hope to talk briefly about the example of a top, Christian college student, well-steeped in rhetoric training. To most looking in, her example might be viewed as a failure of her education, but thinking through these ideas in this presentation might perhaps help us read what could be seen as a failure actually appear as a victory of a rhetorical education rooted in belief. By enacting her education, she helped create a culture of caritas in the midst of cupiditas. David W. Tracy argues that Augustine’s “fundamental ‘discovery’ (and ‘method of discovery’) informing” his “entire thought” is the “reality of love (caritas)” (275). Through this examination, perhaps we can posit that this idea of caritas blends rhetoric and belief together and imagine ways to move such blending into many disciplines.

"World Literature as a Means of Engaging Students in Moral and Spiritual Reflection: A Case Study in a Contemporary African Novelist"
This paper, “Alain Mabanckou: Identity and Redemption in Blue White Red, Broken Glass, Memoirs of a Porcupine,” speaks to the issues of how or whether a university education in the United States of America today should address moral and spiritual aspects of our students’ lives as human beings as well as the intellectual. The paper’s resounding answer to the question is that it is the responsibility of the Christian university to educate the whole person, morally and spiritually as well as intellectually. The approach taken in the paper is to consider the writings of a recent author on the world literature stage, Alain Mabanckou, as a means of encouraging our students to think beyond the boundaries of what a university education can do /for/ someone and to ask what it can do to someone.
As a citizen of the Republic of Congo, Mabanckou writes in French. Several of his novels have been translated into English and therefore are accessible to American students. His novels reflect his social background, and his literary theory critiques the post-colonial views of French literature espoused by much of the academy. In these ways, his writings take us beyond ourselves and ask us to look at ourselves with others’ eyes.
The three Mabanckou novels that will be considered in the paper: Blue White Red, Broken Glass, and Memoirs of a Porcupine reveal the impact of biblical analogy in Mabanckou’s writing. He admits that as a child in the Republic of Congo, he was drawn to the Jerusalem Bible (1968) because of the narratives as storytelling was so much a part of his African culture.
This paper will use the critical method known as “surface reading,” a recent development in literary theory akin to the close reading of earlier Formalism, as a critical technique for reading Mabanckou’s three works. Mabanckou’s epistolary Letter to Jimmy forms the thesis for the paper. The author quotes from James Baldwin’s work The Fire Next Time:
"What, after all, does Baldwin teach us if not that desperation, internal agony and ‘the unbearable lightness of being’ haunt all races? From there, the writer must invent—or even reinvent—a universe in which neighborly love is our salvation . . . Baldwin based his dream on the redemption of human nature, on reclaiming what we lost long ago: the beauty of life. . . . ‘Perhaps the whole root of our trouble, the human trouble, is that we will sacrifice all the beauty of our lives . . . in order to deny the fact of death . . .’" (161-162).
In light of the events this summer regarding race relations, Mabanckou has much to offer our students morally and spiritually: neighborly love is our salvation and the redemption of human nature is partly based on this. As students read Mabanckou’s three novels, not only will they see the impact of how biblical narrative has influenced not just western culture but modern African culture, but they will experience how “surface reading” helps the reader understand and appreciate the text on a scholarly level. Blue White Red is the narrative of one man’s desire to leave his African culture for Paris, only to return periodically as a “sapeur”—the African who has selected the best of Parisian style and in doing so, returns to his country to show that he has “made it” by wearing only the best. But there is a cost. Broken Glass uses a Rabelaisian style of writing to examine redemption, which may seem paradoxical. Memoirs of a Porcupine tells the story of a porcupine from his view point, much in the fable tradition but using the African “animal double”; how does a porcupine atone for the sins of “his” human and why would this be necessary? Mabanckou’s work gives the student/reader not just insight into “redemption,” but broadens the world literature canon by including this French writer who writes about his African life.
Reading these texts raises the societal questions we are facing and allows students to evaluate their thinking. This paper will explore some the ways we can help students ask these questions in the world literature classroom.

Learning from the History of Higher Education: How Religious Colleges’ Sense of Purpose Affects Male and Female Students
In this paper, I draw on research from my forthcoming book, A New Moral Vision: Gender, Religion, and the Changing Purposes of American Higher Education, 1837–1917, to reflect on how historical perspective can help us think through the pros and cons of orienting higher education-and specifically Christian higher education-toward different possible ends. The paper uses the archives of ten trendsetting institutions to compare how the leading colleges and universities of the antebellum period (primarily evangelical Protestant), the Gilded Age and Progressive Era (primarily liberal modernist Protestant), and the 1920s (increasingly secular) respectively responded to women's desire for higher education. Different approaches to faith factored into colleges' decisions regarding what sex and class to serve and hence into their approach to the social justice issue of extending higher education to as many qualified people as possible. Then different approaches to connecting an institution's religious identity and its identity as a men's, women's, or coeducational college led to different approaches to student moral formation. These approaches in turn led to different patterns of student religiosity and future civic engagement. In short, a college's or university's sense of mission mattered. In the decades before the Civil War, evangelical Protestantism provided the main impetus for opening the highest levels of American education to women: though most Protestants continued to assume higher education should be reserved for men, who they believed should lead both church and society, a significant minority sought to extend that education to women to increase the number of people best trained to spread the gospel in various ways. These "evangelical pragmatists" did not focus on the specific vocational uses of higher education, but instead on broad mental training and fostering conversions so as to produce people well-prepared to creatively further the Christian message. Even evangelical educators at men's colleges focused on conversion more than consciously seeking to form men for their specific roles. Educators of this era left the details of how to use a college education between graduates and God. Between the Civil War and World War I, however, shifting theological beliefs, a growing cultural pluralism, and a new emphasis on university research led educators to reevaluate how colleges should inculcate an ethical outlook in students just as the proportion of female collegians swelled. In this environment educational leaders articulated a new moral vision for their institutions by positioning them within the new landscape of competing men's, women's, and coeducational colleges and universities. In place of fostering evangelical conversion, which required a specific theological doctrine of God increasingly seen as narrow, religiously liberal educators instead focused on the implications of faith for community living. This focus on social roles meant they sought to foster in students a surprisingly more gendered ideal of character and service than had earlier evangelical educators. Thus educators consciously channeled male and female graduates into different types of work after graduation. Subsequently, the less reform-oriented culture of the 1920s meant educators did not try to communicate a single moral message as clearly. In place of the reform-oriented male and female subcultures encouraged by Progressive Era educators, students of both sexes fractured into subcultures based on different beliefs, backgrounds, and interests, and pursued college for social connections and job training. Each of these approaches had pros and cons: Colleges founded by evangelical pragmatists extended education to both women and poorer students, fostered students' individual relationship with God, and did not seek to limit their creativity in terms of how they would later serve God with their education. However, because of their totalizing religious nature, these institutions could be challenging environments for students outside that religious fold. Later, the primarily ethical orientation of modernist spirituality could much more easily incorporate non-Protestant students into its vision, and its focus on specific roles for men and women gave graduates a concrete vision of what they could do with their education-but also served to limit their freedom to serve God in creative new ways. The fractured collegiate subcultures of the more secular 1920s more easily incorporated students of different beliefs, backgrounds, and interests, and that decade's lack of a coherent moral vision for the uses of a college education effectively encouraged considering a wider range of future employment opportunities. Yet the loss of the ethical edge that characterized the various earlier campus climates provided less motivation to orient education toward service and also less impetus to open new fields to women. The paper concludes by exploring possible present-day takeaways from the strengths and weaknesses of these approaches.

John Paul II's 'Pastores dabo vobis': A model of formation for all students?
On March 25, 1992, the day on which the Catholic Church celebrates the Feast of the Annunciation, Pope John Paul II published 'Pastores Dabo Vobis', an exhortation following the 1990 ordinary general synod of bishops concerning the formation of priests in the circumstances of the present day. The result of this document has been the overhaul—or, perhaps more accurately, the actual establishment—of national programs that govern the activity of formators in seminaries. In this paper I will discuss the outline of priestly formation provided by John Paul, rooted in his understanding of vocation and the ministerial priesthood as well as his philosophical and theological anthropology. Subsequently I will consider the possibility of extending John Paul’s vision of formation to students in general, especially undergraduates, highlighting in particular the need to form them in all the dimensions that John Paul identifies, namely, the human, the spiritual, the intellectual, and the pastoral. It is my hope that these reflections, illuminated by my own experience as a formator in a minor seminary, may help us understand better the distinction between education and formation as well as begin a discussion as to how best form college students, especially in a Christian environment.

Evoking the Baptist Academy: An experiment with young scholars and next steps
The idea of a seminar for developing scholars identifying with the Baptist tradition was nurtured by my Presbyterian friend Stephen Haynes. He described his request for ordination by his church to a vocation of scholarship. Without a similar vehicle for Baptists, and recognizing our low-communal source of identity and praxis, some friends gathered and talked about how to build up Baptist scholars. If we wanted an academy of Baptists -- that is, an identifiable group of people doing scholarship in a productive relationship with their Baptist roots and constituencies -- we would have to create the conditions and call it forth. In the ten or so years since we began, the YSBA has become a staple of developing and young Baptist academicians. Our selection process is competitive and our publication record is good. But our real focus is on the work of comprising a network of excellent scholars, introducing them to the luminaries in the disciplines, and thickening the idea that together we do make a stable, creative, and reproducing body of ideas, intellectual tradition, and development. This paper will summarize the history, explore the logic of formation, and project the future for this organization.

Beat U: Higher (and Highest) Education Within the Kerouac Circle
An image from Jack Kerouac's early college experience, oft cited by biographers, offers a reliable, if poignant, index to all that will follow in the writer's educational development.
The year is 1940. The setting is the lawn bordering the assembly hall of Horace Mann School for Boys. Outside the hall, lying prone in the grass, Kerouac is immersed in the poetry of Walt Whitman. Inside, a graduation ceremony is underway. Though himself a member of the matriculating class, Kerouac has been prevented from participating: pinched funds have not allowed the scholarship recipient of this Columbia-linked preparatory school to rent the white dress-suit required for the formal occasion. Overhearing the ceremony from which he has been barred, perhaps smiling cynically at an occasional platitude being served up inside, Kerouac remains intent on his reading. This seemingly negligible biographical snapshot is, in fact, rife with implication, for something far more significant than the distant pomp of institutional education is transpiring atop this strip of manicured turf. One of America's up-and-coming literary greats is pursuing, with a diligence and intensity that will characterize his entire career, models for his future writing and, in prospect, the eventual mastery of his chosen craft. A program of relentless self-improvement is here already underway, in other words, and in the face of that daunting artistic challenge, the celebration of success in conventional schooling becomes, for Kerouac, little more than irrelevant background noise.
With the groundbreaking 1957 publication of On the Road, and throughout the train of novels to follow, Kerouac's pedagogical imperative finds embodiment in the Beat texts for which he is renowned. Having left Columbia University after his freshman year, the writer remained feverishly devoted to education, though the improvised curriculum that evolved--desultory, peripatetic, and radically interdisciplinary--would have hardly passed muster with the era's conventional academicians. Yet the fact remains undeniable: rigorous self-study produced a writer of enduring stature. Not only so, but the circle that accompanied Kerouac on his educational odyssey, the members of which figure prominently in his fictionalized travel logs, spawned a half-dozen authors of ongoing and undiminished popularity, Allen Ginsburg, William Burroughs, and Gary Snyder among them. From a pedagogical perspective, one must conclude, something profoundly formative took place within the core of Beat culture. Genuine education--a deep-rooted, life-transforming, professionally empowering program of self-development--was carried on in the midst of the frenetic, anarchic activities for which the movement is better known.
The Beat triumvirate, it should be noted, was not untouched by higher education in its institutional forms. Far from it. Allen Ginsberg had graduated from Columbia University in 1948, and William S. Burroughs was a Harvard man, no less, having earned his bachelor's degree in American Literature in 1936. Despite his abortive enrollment at Columbia, Kerouac, himself, had later done a short classroom stint at the New School of Social Research, taking a course in the American novel, as well as in creative writing. To suggest, therefore, that the three Beat principals were innocent primitives, that they arose as prodigies untainted by academia, would be a gross misrepresentation. It is no misrepresentation, however, to attribute their breathtaking evolution as groundbreaking writers to their post-graduate experience, to their volitional commitment to a far less orthodox regimen. It must be acknowledged, further, that a perennial tension existed within the cohort: an awareness that higher education had provided a foundation for their consummate intellectual flowering, albeit in friction with a deep-seated suspicion about the human products produced by academia. As Kerouac forcefully expresses it in /Dharma Bums/ (1958), "[C]olleges [are] nothing but grooming schools for the middle-class non-identity which usually finds its perfect expression in rows of well-to-do houses with lawns and television sets in each living room with everybody looking at the same thing and thinking the same thing at the same time."
Questions naturally follow, interrogatives of high import to those who today espouse the teaching profession and long for better results. What instructional strategies within Beat culture produced such astonishing educational outcomes? Of what specific teaching-and-learning techniques did this personal-growth process consist? How is it that the college of Kerouac, wholly unaccredited and utterly uninformed by pedagogical research, could claim graduates who, arguably, altered the course of American literature and the face of our country's youth culture? And most importantly for our chosen vocation, to what degree can those strategies be successfully incorporated into the staid, stultifying classroom atmosphere in which we strive--almost inevitably with significant disappointment--to see students' lives radically changed?

Contract, Covenant, and the Future of the Public Research University
Public research universities in the U.S. educate 3.8 million students annually, including nearly 900,000 post-baccalaureate students in masters, doctoral, and professional programs. They prepare students for vital roles in society and drive scientific and technological discovery (American Academy of Arts & Sciences, 2016). Today, leaders of public research universities join colleagues in other higher education sectors in their shared concern about the future of American higher education. Economic and political uncertainty, declining state support for higher education, increased calls for cost controls, accountability, and productivity have become lasting elements of the higher education landscape (Bruininks, Kenney & Thorp, 2010; Immerwahr, Johnson, Ott & Rochkind, 2010).
But deeper forces are also at play. Distrust for institutions of all types is becoming the norm in American society. In his book, On Thinking Institutionally, political scientist Hugh Heclo (2008) explores the decline in public trust in K-12 schools, unions, churches, health-management organizations, courts, and colleges and universities. Poor institutional performance, together with high-profile scandals involving ethical breaches within these institutions, has damaged society's confidence in them. In addition, many believe that institutions get in the way of individual freedom and that leaders of institutions tend to serve their own interests rather than serve the public. This view is supported in a recent study illuminating rural Wisconsinites distrust of its flagship university, the University of Wisconsin–Madison (Cramer, 2016).
A very popular response from public research university leaders is to call for some kind of restorative relationship between their institutions and society. Terms such a ""social contract,"" ""compact,"" or ""covenant"" are frequently invoked in speeches and reports to rally confidence and support for these institutions. For example, two decades ago, the Kellogg Commission on the Future of State and Land-Grant Universities declared, ""If this nation is to succeed in a new century, the covenant between our institutions and the public they serve must be renewed and again made binding"" (Kellogg Commission, 2000, p. 9). More recently, University of Minnesota president emeritus Robert Bruininks and his colleagues professed, ""We must work with our state policymakers to develop a new public compact. Is such a covenant between higher education, government, and citizens conceivable?"" (Bruininks, Kenney & Thorp, 2010; p. 117).
Statements by higher education leaders prompt several avenues of inquiry that have received scant attention in the literature. For example, little is known about how relational language might be understood in a higher education policy context. In other words, what is meant by the terms social contract, compact, or covenant? Furthermore, the historical basis for understanding such terms is not well understood. To what extent did such compacts exist in the past? If they did exist, how did they form, and when/how did they unravel?
In exploring these issues, my proposed paper seeks to make two contributions. First, I will draw on scholarship in the domain of relational theology (e.g., Pally, 2016; Witte, 2012, and others) to conceptualize relational terms often employed to frame university-societal relationships. This section of the paper will unpack the unique meanings of these terms and consider their application in a higher education policy context.
Second, the paper will explore the historical basis for understanding the unique state-research university relationship as espoused by many research university leaders. In this context, I will give special attention to the intellectual origins of the Wisconsin Idea, a theologically-informed notion that created a unique state-research university relationship between the University of Wisconsin and Wisconsin citizens during the Progressive Era (Hoeveler, 2016). The Wisconsin Idea became nationally acclaimed by the early 20th Century, with scholars from across the U.S. visiting Madison to learn more about the paradigm-shifting philosophy (Dyer, 1999).
My paper will discuss the post-millennial Christian theology that anchored the relationship, and how an erosion of this theological framework began to fray relational bonds between the UW and Wisconsin citizens. My analysis will be placed in a larger national context, illustrating ways in which state- research university relationships moved from a covenantal philosophy based on trust and a commitment to social betterment, to an emphasis on contractual/legal relationships built on distrust and self-preservation (e.g., performance funding, new private authority governing relationships, etc.).
The paper will conclude with discussion about the implications of these shifts as it relates to the future of the state/public-research university relationship. As such, it will pose questions about the plausibility and foundation from which a new century covenant might emerge in an increasingly fractured American society.

Higher Education Outside the University
When Socrates claims, in Book II of Plato’s Republic, that justice belongs to the best category of good, being desirable both for its own sake and for its consequences, he is challenged by his friend Glaucon. Socrates view is not, Glaucon says, that of the masses, who regard justice as at best a means to an end. When parents encourage their children to be just they do so not by telling them that justice is pleasant, but that injustice will ultimately be punished whereas justice will be rewarded. Judging by what we say to our children it thus appears that justice is regarded as desirable for its consequences but not for its own sake.
A similar point could be made about higher education. The importance of higher education is rarely disputed, but while some argue that such education is intrinsically rewarding and would be worthwhile even for those who have no need of it in order to make a living, it is far more common for higher education to be praised on instrumentalist grounds. This can be seen at the level of national politics, with politicians from across the ideological spectrum stressing the importance of tertiary education for maintaining competitiveness in the global economy. It is also evident in the way in which parents, teachers, and colleges themselves present the value of college education in terms of the economic benefits that such an education brings. This is not only a matter of rhetoric but also of the economic realities of the contemporary labor market. It has been well said that the primary factor underlying the rising cost of college is the rising cost of not going to college. When a college diploma is widely understood to be a necessary (though by no means sufficient) condition for stable employment in a middle class job we should not be surprised if students understand the value of their education in instrumental terms.
It does not follow that the argument that liberal learning is intrinsically rewarding lacks validity, but it does mean that this argument is often at odds with the students’ experience of education as a realm governed primarily by instrumental incentives. A student may understand and even accept that the study of Shakespeare (or philosophy or astronomy) has non-instrumental value, but when he or she knows that a low grade on their next paper will have a negative impact on their chances of receiving a competitive internship, which in turn will reduce the chances of getting in to a selective law school, it is hard to keep in view the ways in which their studies would be worthwhile even if they played no role in securing gainful and satisfying employment.
My paper will discuss a number of educational initiatives that aim to provide liberal education outside of the normal contexts of the college curriculum (including educational programs in prisons, educational programs aimed at mature learners, and extracurricular educational programs aimed at traditional undergraduates). I will argue that while we should certainly not give up on the defense of the liberal arts within the context of the traditional college curriculum, it is a mistake to treat that curriculum as the sole or even the primary context for liberal learning. Liberal learning can and does flourish in contexts where it is disentangled from the process of academic credentialization and drawing attention to such cases can help to illuminate the reasons why liberal education is valuable for its own sake and not just for its instrumental benefits.

Losing my Religion? The De-legitimation of Religious Research Universities and the Identities of the Few that Remain
Marsden (1994) observes that while most colleges and universities began with strong religious ties, by 1920 most universities seeking prestige in the higher education world had separated themselves from their religious heritage.   How then could it be possible that 9 of the 207 universities in the Carnegie classification system (2014) categorized as “very high research” or “high research” claim a religious affiliation?  We used the religious affiliation test of Lyon, Beatty, and Mixon, (2002) to determine that these 9 universities had at least some real commitment (e.g., explicit goals, curriculum) to their religious heritage. Further, these universities are regarded as national universities who are in the top half of the US News and World Report rankings, several in the top 10%.  In the paper I will summarize, we describe three phases of de-legitimation and three related types of identity work: 1) active de-legitimation during which the 9 universities sought to protect their marginalized populations; 2) passive de-legitimation during which these universities developed collective power to explore the possibilities of emergence as full-fledged research universities; and 3) a subsequent and current phase in which these universities are engaging in competitive strategies to achieve academic excellence and sustain a religious identity.  Using both quantitative and qualitative sources of data regarding organization, finances, policies, public debates, etc. we note rather significant differences in the approaches of these universities. I intend to engage those who attend this session in a discussion of our findings and implications for the ability of U.S. research universities to sustain a significant religious identity. 

Institutions or Industry? The Culturally Hegemonic Influence of Business in Higher Education
Universities and colleges in the United States increasingly serve principles traditionally associated with the market. Academe was historically guided by intrinsic aims in service of the public good, such as the development of knowledge and the shaping democratic educational ideals. An ideological competitor, neoliberalism, threatens to supplant these intrinsic ideals with extrinsic goals of cost efficiency, productivity, and performance. A considerable body of research across many disciplines analyzes the response of higher education institutions to market pressures related to the political-economic project of neoliberalism. While some emphasize the benefits of university-industry relationships, others fear private sector involvement reshapes the academy’s values away from its public good-functions.
This paper explores how the history of higher education, and recent trends reflected across institutions, contribute to the extent to which these institutions of civil society are shaped by market logic as a hegemonic force. Higher education institutions are increasingly subject to economic encroachment, and the decisions made by these institutions with respect to specific variables indicates their responsiveness to industry opportunities and market demands.
While prior research has focused on distinct but related trends demonstrating the corporatization of higher education, large-scale empirical analyses linking these trends is lacking. This study contributes to the literature by providing a quantitative evaluation of market penetration into American higher education at the institutional level. The research question guiding this study is, “To what extent has market logic shaped the development of higher education in the last century?” To assess the effects of market encroachment on higher education institutions, I constructed a stratified, nationally representative random sample of 126 colleges and universities in the United States. The study utilizes data gathered from the The Carnegie Classification of Institutions of Higher Education, the U.S. Department of Education’s National Center for Education Statistics (NCES), and the National Science Foundation (NSF), and institutions’ webpages. Qualitative comparative analysis (QCA) was utilized to analyze and score the institutions included in the sample by independent variables identified in the literature as representative of market influence in higher education.
These findings are relevant and important to the sociological study of higher education because these institutions train leaders of a democratic society that has tremendous global influence. Institutions responding to unnamed and unseen forces may have unintended consequences, both for higher education in America, and for the nation as part of a world system.

What Makes Higher Education Higher? Confronting Our Deep Ambivalence about Transcendence
Our contemporary lack of confidence and consensus about what constitutes higher learning is revealed, perhaps more readily by focusing on what we refer to as higher education. The question of the nature of higher education seems a bit easier to deal with. However, “higher education” cannot reasonably be equated simply to “more” education, or even “broader” education. We even feel (or should feel) uneasy in equating “higher” education with “more technical” or “more useful” education. There is something more going on in “higher” education and “higher” learning.
The question of higher learning and higher education takes the educated person quite quickly into consideration of the various types of knowledge – or “knowing” – addressed by the classical Greek thinkers. It is interesting that both the classical Greeks, and the best of “post-modern” thinkers spent some time in articulating and developing different “ways of knowing.” The paper will include a brief discussion of ways of knowing and what it has to contribute to the discussion of higher learning.
This discussion leads into the heart of the question of higher learning and what might make it “higher.” One of the most significant intellectual and moral consequences of the ascendance of modern thought over classical thought is the loss of the integrated, holistic, and hierarchical cosmos. The modern world is distinctly flat in comparison to the classical and even to the medieval, world. A portion of the paper will touch on the consequences of a flat world and what that might imply about learning and education.
Finally, the paper will take up the proposition that what makes higher education “higher” is that it is education about “higher things.” The possibility that there might be “higher things” seems to have become a difficult matter in the modern world. Our intellectual culture as well as the common culture have deep ambivalence regarding even the possibility, and much more so, the reality of transcendence. Everyone, it seems, wants just enough transcendence to find meaning in one’s own personal or communal experiences, but not enough so as to really entail a transcendent reality. Serious consideration of the reality of the transcendent is particularly difficulty in an intellectual regime, such as our present one, characterized by scientism and its commitment to emergent naturalism.
It seems, though, that unless we are to allow transcendence back into the intellectual and cultural discourse, we might need to jettison the very notion of “higher” learning and “higher education.”

The Moral and Pedagogical Case for Open Educational Resources
In 2006, historian and digital humanities pioneer, Roy Rosenzweig published an article in the Journal of American History entitled “Can History Be Open Source? Wikipedia and the Future of the Past.” Rosenzweig called historians to “emulate Wikipedia’s great democratic triumph.” He asked. “Could we, for example, write a collaborative U.S. history textbook that would be free to all our students?” We could, of course, but in the ten years since Rosenzweig penned his piece, we as a profession haven’t tried. The American Yawp was designed to try.
The collision of technology and education incites hyperbole: digital utopians dream of a democratized world of free learning and digital skeptics warn of privatized, profit-driven enterprises that privilege shallow instruction from de-skilled educators. But beyond the dreams and beyond the nightmares, the digital humanities have created space for practical projects that address practical problems.
And we have plenty of such problems. As academics, we have to confront the ugly fact that our universities are sites of profound inequality and that, against our best hopes and much conventional wisdom, our institutions too often perpetuate and accelerate inequality instead of combatting it. Textbooks are only one component of this complicated problem, but research shows that they represent a surprisingly impactful one.
But our goal was not only to make a free textbook. We wanted to make a better textbook. We believed that a narrative synthesis could emerge through the many innovations of our profession’s various subfields. Scholarship bubbles up from the work of researchers rather than flows down from the work of editors, publishers, or other institutional gatekeepers. We therefore gave the first draft over to subfield specialists to ensure the text reflected the cutting edge of scholarship. We relied upon a large and diverse, coordinated group of experienced contributors to construct a coherent and accessible narrative from all the best of recent historical scholarship.
We are eager to share our experience with the 2016 Baylor Symposium on Higher Learning. Our project explores some of the most pressing problems in higher education, while also showing a new way forward through technological innovation and massive academic collaboration. Our project required participation from 312 content contributors, 26 chapter editors, 45 editorial advisers, and 146 content reviewers. Massive collaboration presents particular challenges but also offers thrilling promise. We look forward to discussing both.

The Value of a Traditional Philosophical Approach in Christian Liberal Arts Education
Christian higher education should be built around the liberal arts. A liberal arts education-whether formal or informal-is a crucial grounding to living a full and rich life. It teaches us to examine ourselves individually and collectively. It inspires us to appreciate beauty in many different guises. It prompts our imagination to consider the myriad possibilities which life offers. I consider philosophy the central (foundational and unifying) area of study in the liberal arts. Philosophy is traditionally defined as the ""love of wisdom"" and wisdom can be defined as the ""proper use of knowledge.""
All of the liberal arts and sciences can contribute to the acquisition of knowledge and its proper use but it is philosophy which self-consciously and systematically explores what should be taken as true and real (epistemology and metaphysics) and how it is best employed (ethics and politics). As a historical discipline it conveys the best-or at least the most prevalent-thinking on the perennial questions which confront humankind. As a creative and dynamic discipline it continues careful consideration of these questions as they arise in new situations and within the growing body of knowledge which the other disciplines generate. Furthermore, the practice of philosophy trains us to think hard and carefully, to recognize ""good"" and ""bad"" thinking, to explore the veracity and implications of our convictions.
Educational institutions that seek to incorporate Christian principles within the study of the liberal arts have several distinct advantages. Perhaps the most obvious is high ethical standards for literature, art, and scholarship. Of course there are many excellent and or significant works that do not readily conform to a traditional Christian ethic, if at all. It is marvelous to be able to evaluate these within a framework that enables young minds to interpret the world around them fairly and wisely. But more importantly the only genuine educational experience (indeed the only true ""open mind"") is one that takes seriously the possibility that distinct and clearly specified religious and ethical claims may be known to be true. Christian education does this, most secular institutions do not.
Philosophers should be the most open minded of all academics. One of the most frustrating aspects of my graduate school experience was the close-minded attitudes of many of my colleagues. I soon learned that there are some claims-many not overtly Christian-which are immediately branded as naive, bigoted, and ""unphilosophical."" I am convinced that Christian higher education grounded firmly in traditional philosophical principles is needed to ensure that true education can take place. This is especially important at the undergraduate level when students are just beginning to learn to think for themselves. C.S. Lewis once said that we need good philosophers because there are so many bad ones; we also need Christian liberal arts higher educational institutions because there are so many schools that fail to provide a genuine, open-minded education.
I have developed some guidelines for doing Philosophy in an ""open-minded"" manner that takes Christian claims very seriously which have proved to be very effective (my students get tired of hearing these, but most seem to end up embracing them). I believe that this approach to academics opens the door to serious consideration of revealed Christian doctrines and values without sacrificing intellectual integrity. They are prompted by my reading of early Platonic dialogues and Kierkegaard's commentary on them. This paper will provide a very brief summary of their derivation and then relate them to a few basic Christian principles and my personal experience as a seeker of wisdom. (Hint: this includes careful use of the imagination, especially in relation to principles 4 and 5). Very briefly, the principles are:
(1) Maintain an attitude of openness and humility (this comes from a deep reverence for Truth and an awareness of the limits of human knowledge)
(2) Do the best we can to carefully examine the idea (and all implications and underlying assumptions)
(3) Make sure the idea is reasonable
(4) Make sure the idea is noble
(5) Have the courage to risk belief in ideas that stand up to this scrutiny (the risk comes from a lack of objective certainty, from the recognition that what we believe is probably not ""exactly"" the way things are).