Seven Values for Learning
Four years ago, almost to the day, I was seated in an echoey Oxford lecture room with a rainy day out the window at my back and a tutor with wise, kind eyes at the podium in front. I was still a bit jetlagged, jittery with my own nerves and slight insecurity and excitement to be a student, striving to focus but also wondering how in the world I was ever going to get all my essays in on time, a little afraid of being lonely, wondering if I had the capacity to do what I had dreamed. The voice, and message, of the tutor who spoke that day cut straight through my jangled and doubting thought with a focus and hope that became a foundation for the three years of study that (unexpectedly) followed.
And in many ways, for my life as well. What the tutor articulated that day was the vision and argument for faithful, intellectual engagement. I found his words convicting and empowering, ideas that undergird my commitment to the reading life, and even the way I live out my faith. These are ideas I think we should all be shaped by, because I strongly believe that we are called to be learners, readers, those reaching for understanding as we journey toward wisdom and maturity in the company of Christ. As October opens, with its crisp air, its firesides, and that return to home and study that is so rich a part of this season, I thought I’d share these principles again. Perhaps they will spur and inspire your own mind in whatever corner you find yourself today.
(My tutor was James Robson, and I share these with his permission. The points are his, and I expand a bit upon them in my own words.)
Informed :: The aim is to dispel ignorance. To know what we know with great depth and intricacy, whether that is the nature of God or the function of language. To read, question, and wrestle with those who have gone deep in thought before us, and to then form our own beliefs in conversation with them. I’m reminded here of how language expands our consciousness. How each word, thought, or imagined figure enriches the inner soil from which our belief, creativity, and selfhood grows. To learn, to read, to be informed is to widen the horizon of spiritual imagination. In learning, we become more than we were before, and our capacity to give expands as well. What a privilege, then, to learn, and what a gift.
Humble :: We see in part, each limited by his or her own point of view. We see one aspect of the world, one facet of the cut, shimmering diamond of reality. We must value what we know, yes, but recognize its limitation. We must always be willing to question, or expand our ideas based on the challenge of Scripture. I’ve only been here a week and already I have heard so many stories, heard so many passionate ideas stated, and formed new friendships with people from vastly differing cultures and histories. My concept of the world has expanded. I am keenly aware of both my own unique story, and the fact that it is one of countless histories adding to the great Story of God. In that context, there is no room for pride of place.
Critical :: Is this right? God gave us minds to discern between the good and the bad, the true and the false. Our learning is meant to strengthen us in this endeavor, so that we can ask the questions that must be asked about soul and mind, Church and culture. We ask for evidence, we read vigorously, we think with rigor. I feel often paralyzed by the plethora of choices, opinions, and beliefs encountered in the space of a day. This particular value is a tonic to me; an assurance that with Scripture, study, and careful thought, I am fully able to discern what is right, what is good, and what that knowledge requires of me. Life’s more simple than it seems when a cool mind and a peaceful heart are in place.
Analytical :: Here, we practice the discipline of logical thinking. We learn to ask the questions that get to the pith of the matter. We learn to discern what is truly being stated, asked, or assumed in the thoughts of others. This, after my various spates as a student mentor, strikes me hard. One thing I had to learn in mentoring others was that often, the question verbalized wasn’t really the question being asked. To discern what truly is at stake, to ask the kind of questions that lay open the heart of a matter is a discipline I’ve had to learn with much last minute prayer. Of course, academically, this value is straightforward, more about intellectual clarity. Clarity of thought. And brevity. Those will take some work!
Independent :: We are self-starting, self-driven educators who take ownership of our learning. Part of this is a resistance to herd-like thinking. We think in community, certainly, but we think independently as well, willing to question instead of simply assume. And this is why I’m at Oxford. “Think of yourself,” said a new friend here, a little ahead of me on the same course,” as a scholar in training. You’re just a ways back from the great ones, but you’re on the same path. And you have to do the same work with the same integrity if you want to follow them.” Hard work, that, the discipline of setting essay schedules for myself, doing the extra bit of research I really could skip, answering the question fully instead of in part. But an honor too. To be trusted to learn, to do work worthy of a tutor’s time. And then to take that learning, apply the same independence and give it back in a meaningful way to the world. Beautiful challenge.
Integrative :: Our learning must rightly enrich our actions. Theological study must enrich and further our discipleship. Otherwise, it is a useless endeavor. Oh, this beauty-loving, life-making girl loves this. Our contemplations must find meaningful, embodied expression. To hold knowledge apart, in an isolated box in our minds, is to make it meaningless. It must be applied, lived, incarnated into every aspect of the lives we live here, the loves we give, the legacies we are building. If what I learn about the Old Testament prophets doesn’t teach me how to tell the truth in my own time, how to love the people God is calling to himself, then the hours I spent upon it were worthless. If church doctrine classes don’t equip me to speak, in the language and metaphor of my own time, the living language of Christ, then I have learnt nothing at all. This learning must be a part of “life and life to the full,” life rich in the beauty and quickened light of Christ.
Faithful :: We learn in order to know the living God. Michael Lloyd, the principal here at Wycliffe, in a talk given just before this one, commented (I don’t have notes so I’m paraphrasing) that theological study is, at base, the study of Love. In that light, I understand every jot of my pen here, every page of old text read, every essay eeked out in the wee sma’s as a journey deep into Love. And a rigorous training that will give me the mental acuity, the written and verbal fluency to make Love plain in my time.