Reading these daily postings has become a refreshing ritual for me. As someone who likes books and long essays, I have been a faithful reader of the Christian Scholars Review since its beginning in 1970. Yet, as the blog has developed, the format of short daily pieces has come to be something I cherish.
Early in my graduate studies in philosophy, I took a yearlong seminar on Wittgenstein’s Philosophical Investigations. The two professors who led the weekly sessions—each of them more “Wittgensteinian” than I was destined to be —wanted us to really get a feel for how he did philosophy, so each week we were assigned a short paper on a passage in the text. The maximum length had to be 1000 words, and they had to be our reflections on one of the aphorisms that characterized the Austro-British philosopher’s style. One that I still remember struggling over: “Why can’t a dog simulate pain? Is he too honest?”
While that seminar provided me with some philosophical insights, the more lasting benefits had to do with learning how to write short pieces. Those benefits did little for me during my next five years, as my focus was on producing rather pedantic longer essays and a less pedantic doctoral dissertation. But they came to fruition when I joined the faculty at Calvin College and began writing in the Reformed Journal, where I soon became an editor. The most popular section of the magazine was called “As We See It,” and typically contained six or so pieces addressing significant issues in church and society in 1000 words or less. I thought much about my Wittgenstein efforts when writing my own contributions. Like being told to write about the pains of dogs, the assignments given out at the editors’ meetings felt like the “improv comedy” that I had enjoyed during my student years in Chicago.
When I became a seminary president, I was obliged to write “thought piece” letters to supporters, as well as producing 800-word editorials for the seminary magazine. But in this role, I also discovered what was for me a new form of oral presentation. When sponsoring public lectures by distinguished scholars, the “And now a few words from the president” could not be too few. Nor could I talk for several minutes about my own thoughts regarding biblical feminism, neo-colonialism or apartheid. It could neither be too trite nor too detailed. I had an assistant once listen to some recordings of those introductory comments—usually off-the-cuff—and count the words. She reported that I averaged 800-900 words each!
Well, I have now written 434 words here about myself, all meant to explain why I am so grateful for what typically goes on in these pages. We, Christian academics, need to be informed, stimulated, and inspired by each other. While I am not likely to read many of the works published for colleagues in your fields, it is a blessing to join you for ten minutes on a given day to hear what happens in your chemistry class, in coaching your team, or in encouraging your students to appreciate poetry.
In my years of visiting campuses as a member of accrediting teams, I have been impressed by what it means for a local population to have a smaller college or university in their community. This often serves to put a human face on higher education. A real estate agent attends a campus panel discussion on market trends. A florist sits next to an art historian’s spouse at a basketball game. This is especially important in our evangelical world: “A mathematics professor belongs to our church and talked to our Sunday School class about numbers in the Bible.” “I had an interesting conversation with a black guy in the barbershop that teaches church history at the seminary.” What we say to each other in these postings serves a similar purpose. It humanizes our subject matter and our classroom work. I may know about your scholarly reputation, but it means a lot to learn about your personal hopes and fears as a teacher.
It would be great if Christianity Today would revive the “As we See It” format online with us in mind, selecting some of our postings to humanize the evangelical academy for a broader Christian audience. I’m not hung up on keeping things shorter than a thousand words, but it is good to be aware of the value of writing and reading shorter pieces by the likes of us. It would be great to think of a florist clicking on the site with the thought, “And now a few words from a Christian scholar!”
