Yes, I had a root canal the other day.
Sure, I have had fillings and even a few crowns but never a root canal. Continue reading
Yes, I had a root canal the other day.
Sure, I have had fillings and even a few crowns but never a root canal. Continue reading
Have you seen The Carbonaro Effect? It’s a TV show where an undercover magician does tricks in settings where people don’t expect to see magic performed, and we get to watch their reaction.
Maybe he’s working at a cash register in a grocery store and finds a live chick in the dozen eggs you’re buying or maybe he’s someone you meet in the break room at work who pulls an incredible amount of food from his little lunch bag, along with cut flowers and a vase — either way, the star of the show is the person with whom he interacts and how they try to make sense of what they’ve just witnessed. Continue reading
For sometime I’ve been concerned that the American Academy of Religion would venture into the waters of learning outcomes and assessment. But now one of its committees is working on this and its the topic of a leadership workshop, offered by the Academic Religions committee, at the upcoming annual meeting.
Robert Erlewine is an Associate Professor of Religious Studies at Illinois Wesleyan University where he teaches courses related to philosophy of religion and Judaism. He is the author of two monographs, Monotheism and Tolerance: Recovering a Religion of Reason (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2010) and Judaism and the West: From Hermann Cohen to Joseph Soloveitchik (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2016).
In recent years, in the academic study of religion there have been rather public disputes about the nature of religious studies. Russell McCutcheon and William Arnal note an important sea-change that seems to have taken place in the field over the last few decades, that there has been a “widespread turn from practicing [religious studies] as if it was a branch of the history of ideas toward studying what is now known as ‘religion on the ground’ or ‘material religion.’” This shift “estranges former close relationships with our cousins in philosophy and, instead, forges affinities with our new friends, the social anthropologists and culture studies.” What does this change in religious studies mean for more philosophically oriented sub-disciplines — other than shrinking job prospects for young scholars? Can recent developments in theories and methods enable a rethinking of subfields in religious studies that remain close to philosophy departments?
Rethinkings that can generate energy and foster vitality? Continue reading
A couple years ago I gave a talk at Lehigh University (a lecture that became chapter 8 in a book I published not long after). The topic was on my frustration with how scholars of religion — because they define their object of study as a universally present and deeply meaningful human impulse — often assume their research is always relevant. As evidence I drew on a recent national conference where scholars of religion were encouraged to think about how their work on this or that ritual or text could contribute to solving the problem of climate change. I could just as easily have cited the program for that very annual conference (something I wrote on long ago, actually), and how the “religion and…” rubric was infinitely variable (e.g., Religion and Literature, Religion and Film, Religion and Science, Religion and Politics, Religion and Food, etc., etc.); we often presume our object of study always to be relevant because we think that it somehow points outside of, and thus before and beyond, the happenstance of history. So it is assumed to play a role in anything that happens.
The problem, though, is that we also claim to be historians, e.g., historians of religion — but, defining religion in this way, makes us historians who study the transcendental. And that’s very unhistorial if you ask me. Continue reading
Events at the Malheur National Wildlife Refuge in Oregon, where a group of armed adults seized a building, have generated lots of analysis (and comments on the analysis, including my colleague’s discussion of operative theories of religion). One common mode of analysis has been comparison, particularly comparisons of the media and law enforcement responses there to prior events at Waco, Occupy Wall Street, or Ferguson, among others. Within these comparisons, though, both self-identified conservatives and liberals have used the same events to promote their own positions. For example, some have highlighted how Tamir Rice was shot because his toy gun was seen as a threat but heavily armed adults occupying a federal building have not been treated as a direct threat. In contrast, a conservative website has contrasted a peaceful picture of the protestors in Oregon to images of people looting and damaging property in Ferguson and Baltimore, noting how some who label the protesters in Oregon as “terrorists” described those in Ferguson and Baltimore as simply “demonstrators”.
This range of comparisons illustrates quite well the nature of comparison generally. Each person creating a comparison must ignore a whole series of similarities and differences in order to highlight the particular similarity and difference that supports the desired conclusion. For example, many of those active in Ferguson and Baltimore were peaceful protestors, in the face of police in fully militarized gear, but the conservative website only emphasized those who damaged property, apparently unable to distinguish between people of color. Similarly, the comparison of the responses of law enforcement in Ferguson and Malheur National Wildlife Refuge must overlook the very different contexts (urban/rural) and the different dynamics in the events. In many ways, none of these comparisons are particularly sound, as each event has its unique components in terms of contexts, law enforcement agencies involved, sequence of events, and localized dynamics.
Suggesting that these comparisons are faulty does not justify the official responses. Too often police have used force unnecessarily, often against people of color. Recognizing that dynamic, though, does not change how these simplistic comparisons illustrate confirmation bias, in which people view events, and draw comparisons, based on their preexisting positions, thus interpreting them as confirming what they already knew to be true. With any comparison, it is easy to come to a whole range of conclusions, depending on how you construct the comparison. Just as political statements need to be critiqued for how they spin events to promote their own agenda, comparisons need a similar level of analysis to identify the ways those making the comparison have spun details to fit their own position.
Photo credit: “MalheurNWRHeadquarters” by Cacophony. Licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons
Khara Cole graduated from The University of Alabama in 2013 with a double major in Religious Studies and Public Relations. She currently lives in Chattanooga, TN working as an Associate Product Manager in Marketing/New Product Strategy for BlueCross BlueShield of TN.
If you’ve been on social media at all recently, you might have come across the image pictured above originally posted by a far right conservative group that’s been shared countless times across Facebook and other social media sites. When I first came across this terrible comparison, my critical thinking senses immediately kicked in and I thought why in the world would anyone ever compare these two figures, and what are they trying to say? Not only is this image devastatingly offensive to several communities, it was blatantly obvious that there were major political and totally uneducated implications behind this comparison as well, and I wanted to think it through.
Sarah Griswold is a junior double majoring in Mathematics and Religious Studies. She spends her “free time” analyzing her favorite shows on Netflix, which of course winds up ruining them.
To get you started for some Ash Wednesday talk, enjoy some GloZell:
Ash Wednesday marks the beginning of the Lenten Season – the days leading up to Easter, meant to symbolize Jesus’s 40 days of temptation in the wilderness. By now, you probably have seen people with ashes on their foreheads and at least one or two articles linked on Facebook or other social media about what Ash Wednesday is, what it means, and what the ashes are for. What I find interesting is how the ashes operate as an intentional mode of identification.
As individuals who regularly interact with others and insert ourselves into society, we are constantly and consistently subject to classification by others and our own ideas of who we are. This manifests itself most commonly in race and gender, but it also appears based on observation of interactions with others. For example, you may see a woman (you have already classified her gender) holding a baby and conclude that she is a mother. Many aspects of the way we choose to present ourselves and therefore categorize ourselves are subconscious.
There are, however, many choices we make that are intentional. On campus here at UA, many individuals will wear the letters of an organization to associate themselves with a particular group of people and set of ideals. I, for one, am a part of a music fraternity called Sigma Alpha Iota and on every Wednesday we wear something with our letters on it. This is intentional in the strictest sense of the word.
So what does this have to do with Ash Wednesday? Today, I have ashes on my forehead and the letters ΣAI on my sweatshirt. If you see me walking down the street today, you will first say that I am a white female. Next, you will see my letters and either associate me with ΣAI or, not knowing what that is, some sort of Greek organization. As you walk closer, you will see the ashes on my forehead and, depending on your familiarity with Ash Wednesday, say that I am observing Lent or say something like, “Excuse me. You have something on your forehead.” My identity, then, is defined by you, but controlled by me.
I have no immediate control over my race and gender, yet it’s the first thing about myself that you classify. I chose to wear letters, but had I not, you would know nothing about that aspect of my life. The ashes are special to today.
For those observing Lent this year, Ash Wednesday is the time to show the world. They get to wear their ashes, which results only in lingering gazes and a couple of questions from those unfamiliar with the day. It is a piece of their identity that they now have a nonverbal way of communicating to others. For those observing those with ashes, they either learn something new about Christianity or about those they see with the ashes.
Of course, to those with the ashes, it is not just about identifying oneself for the world to see. There are many more reasons for it and you can read it about those in the articles you see linked on Facebook. For now, I leave you with a couple of questions: What ways do you intentional manipulate your identity and how others perceive you? What do you see others do to identify themselves?
Photo credit: George Fox Evangelical Seminary on Flickr CC BY 2.0
So ends the late Charles J. Adams‘s classic entry in the Encyclopedia Britannica on the topic of “Classification of Religions.” Or consider the Encyclopedia of Religion‘s own entry on the same topic (not updated in the second edition), this time written by the late Harry B. Partin — which concludes as follows: Continue reading
The following guest post is an English translation of the editorial from the current issue of Asdiwal (vol. 9 ), reproduced here with the kind permission of the journal. It is currently among the very few systematic statements on this topic from within our field and therefore deserves to be read and discussed more widely in North America.
Learn more about this academic periodical in the study of religion, published in Geneva, Switzerland, here.
As we were preparing this edition of Asdiwal (9/2014), the Paris events of January 2015 took place. Journalists of Charlie Hebdo were assassinated by two masked individuals armed with assault rifles because they had insulted the prophet Muhammad, several police officers were killed, and finally, women and men were taken hostages and murdered, because they were Jews, in a Kosher super market near Paris. There is no doubt that these events will have consequences, but these are still difficult to anticipate clearly. For some, war has been declared. But a war against whom, and against what? Faced with violence, many citizens drew together, at first without political or religious aim, to reassert their right to freedom of speech. Soon, we heard other voices, opposing civilization and barbarity, and invoking the necessity to defend the legacy of the Enlightenment against the rise of “Islamo-fascism”; others, no less shocked by these events, emphasized Europe’s apparent incapacity to understand the suffering of the “Other,” and posed the question: “Can we laugh about everything?” Is there not, behind this laughter, a form of condescension, that of a Europe trapped in a vision of the world where she is the center laughing at savages, both within and without, who remain incapable of laughing with her? Continue reading