Ashland Theological Seminary : 2004 Seminar
Making Bricks Without Straw: A Crisis in Critical Thinking
Ashland Theological Seminary
Professor Mack, new addition to the faculty of Ashland Theological Seminary, stepped into the classroom with anticipation, prepared to begin his first course. The course was Christian Theology II, a core course taken by all students. Thirty-five students had registered for the class, which was held on Thursday evenings on the Ashland campus.
He had great hopes for the class, and he was encouraged by the attitudes of the students. They were motivated and receptive. They seemed to have a warm personal faith and expressed appreciation for the devotions with which he opened the class.
They were an ethnically diverse group representing 17 denominations and five non-denominational congregations. Some were full-time students, while others were part-time. About a third were extension students. Just under half were women. Most had families, held down jobs, and were active in some form of ministry. For most of the students, this class came early in their seminary education. Some had not yet had the required courses in church history. Several had not had the Christian Theology I course the previous spring. Three were just now taking the hermeneutics course that was a prerequisite to the theology courses.
A few of the students were just out of college. Greg had recently graduated from a nearby Bible college. Mark and Sarah were Ashland University graduates preparing for doctoral studies. Janet was pursuing a degree in Christian Education.
Most of the students were older. Sam had pastored for 15 years and Rachel for three. Charles, an engineer, was majoring in biblical studies; Alfred and Toshiko were going into pastoral counseling. Bill had retired from the police force to pursue a degree in spiritual formation. Deborah was a mother of two teenagers who had received a call to ministry and planned to join the pastoral staff of her church after her children finished school. “It’s like they say,” she explained with a smile, “I have the burning and now I want to get the learning.” Leon had no undergraduate degree and had been admitted as a special student.
Mack enjoyed the class time. The students often shared a similar perspective on the topics they discussed. All of them considered themselves conservative in their theology; some identified themselves as evangelical, but they were not very clear on what that meant. They worked hard on the discussion questions. Discussions were lively and generally cordial, except for the confrontation between the Oneness Pentecostal student and the Baptist students, and the exchange in which Greg informed Rachel and Deborah that the Bible prohibits women from being in pastoral ministry.
However, by the second week, students were complaining that the main textbook was too difficult. Mack found himself having to spend less time discussing case studies and more time lecturing on the concepts in the text. Mark and Sarah then complained that the lectures were too elementary.
Mack’s attempts to generate some cross-fertilization between theological traditions were not as successful as he had hoped. Not only were the students unfamiliar with the seminary’s Anabaptist/Pietist heritage, which he had expected, but they were also largely unfamiliar with any theological tradition other than their own. Sarah and Mark had been mentored by someone at the university who had told them that the Reformed tradition was the only truly biblical perspective. They tended to be impatient with the Arminian views of their classmates—and of their professor. Bill and Janet expressed surprise that anyone could take Calvinism seriously. Sam and Leon, strongly dispensational, sided with Bill and Janet until the discussion turned to perseverance. Greg wanted to know why they spent so much time on theological perspectives rather than laying out the clear teaching of Scripture.
Major problems surfaced when they handed in their first paper. Mack had asked them to write a short research paper on an ethical dilemma he posed for them. The assignment required them to integrate biblical study, theological reflection, and reflection on their own contexts. Mack read through their papers with dismay.
Some had done well. The rest exhibited an impressive array of problems. Charles carefully reproduced the lectures. Mark and Sarah submitted papers that were clearly organized but superficial, consisting largely of undigested quotations. Rachel brought her church’s teaching to bear on the issue but ignored the readings. Greg compiled a list of Bible verses as proof that there really was no dilemma. Janet empathized with the person in the case study and wrote about how she had dealt with that problem in her own life. Sam offered suggestions from his pastoral experience and Alfred quoted counseling experts, but neither reflected theologically on the problem. Leon faced the ethical issue honestly, but he struggled to express his thoughts and failed to document any of his sources. Deborah undermined her argument with frequent grammatical errors. Toshiko’s paper had so many composition problems that Mack wasn’t sure whether the problem was with her English or with her thinking. Bill’s paper was simply incoherent. Two students did not submit a paper; one of them confided to Mack that he had no idea how to begin.
Mack shared his frustration with colleagues during lunch before the next faculty meeting. “I don’t know what to do,” he concluded. “How can I get them to think critically about issues in theology when they don’t know any theology and they haven’t learned how to think critically about anything else? The ones who do have some theological knowledge don’t want to interact with other people’s ideas. On top of that, they can’t express in writing the thoughts they do have! They don’t know how to make an argument or reflect theologically on the Bible or on their own experience. They have problems with things as basic as grammar and paragraph development. My doctoral program didn’t prepare me to deal with this!”
Professor Reed nodded. “I get that all the time in hermeneutics,” she said. “A couple of the M.Div. students told my TA that they didn’t understand why they had to learn all these exegetical methods when they were just going to preach.” The homiletics professor shook his head with a sigh.
Professor Andrews from the Pastoral Counseling department spoke up. “We keep pushing our counseling students to integrate their core classes with what we’re teaching them. Some of them get it, but many of them don’t. Some of them say that they’re here to learn counseling, not theology or spiritual formation.”
Mack turned to his fellow theologian, Professor Burkholder. “Can’t we assume some skills on the part of our students? I thought this was supposed to be graduate school!”
“Sort of,” she replied. “Remember that most of them have no background in religion—or even in the humanities. Even though we’re supposed to be teaching at the master’s level, this is really the first degree in the field for most of them. Many of them haven’t written a paper in a very long time, if ever. And they usually don’t have to do the kind of critical thinking we ask of them in their day jobs.”
“We aren’t a graduate school in the usual sense,” Andrews added. “We’re supposed to be preparing leaders for the church and society. Most of our students aren’t here because of academic goals.”
Professor Wilson shook his head. “But we say that academic excellence is one of our core values. If we’re serious about achieving that, our students really need some basic competence in writing and critical thinking before they take the core courses. We have enough to cover in the OT and NT courses without having to worry about doing remedial work, too.”
“Don’t try to add it to the hermeneutics course,” groaned Reed. “That course is coming apart at the seams as it is.”
Wilson persisted, “I have the sense that we’re really not teaching them these skills. The students who already know how to write and think do well in our classes; the others don’t.”
“What about the writing center?” asked Mack. “Can’t they help?”
“They’re great about working with the students,” Andrews acknowledged. “But the problems are bigger than they can handle. It’s hard to provide ongoing tutoring to extension students or students who are on campus for only one class. Besides, some of the students who need their help the most don’t make use of it.”
Just then the president called the faculty meeting to order. Mack was still in a quandary. If the students couldn’t handle his first assignment, how were they going to survive the major research paper? What could he do? What could the seminary do to address the problem?







