Accomplishing

I have had a productive day. I had classes, then I have gotten some other things done. It was quite funny today in Pentateuch class. Throughout the lecture and class discussion, I had been sliding in and out of giving a definitive answer about something--as is my usual habit. In this particular instance we were talking about reading Genesis with the attempt in mind to set aside, as much as is possible (and it's not very possible) the theological presuppositions with which we approach the text as Christians. One student in the back of the room suggested two or three different things that someone reading Genesis not from the perspective of faith (or from the perspective of a different faith) might get out of it: pure entertainment, pure foolishness, or an investigation of the probabilities of Genesis' historical reporting. So he asked me, "Now professor, we would like you to tell us which of these three things you actually get from reading Genesis outside of the perspective of faith."

I stood behind the lectern.










Took a deep breath.










Counted to ten.













And said, "Oops, time's up!" Good thing for me that this question came right at the end of class so I could get away with not answering it. Naturally, I'm not going to come right out and say the answer to something, because I want my students to be able to investigate the options and discover for themselves whatever answer seems good to them, most comprehensive and most coherent with respect to the issues involved. The point is not to pour my knowledge or opinions into them as if they were merely empty vessels. It is not even the point that they agree with me at every turn. Actually, I would rather they disagree with me, and sometimes even vehemently, because that makes for great and interesting, and greatly interesting, class discussion. At the end of the day I want them to be able to make informed statements and to hold onto informed beliefs.



In other words, I want to give them the pitcher.