Choosing a Methodological Path

Prior to beginning my studies in Toronto this year, I had assumed that the Method and Theory course would be a course which would teach me how to properly go about studying religion. In particular, I assumed, in light of my own textually based studies, that we would be looking primarily at various forms of textual criticism (historical, redactional, source, etc.). Thus, I was a little surprised when I saw our topics of study when the course began. The task of summarizing what has been constructed from this course as a whole is, indeed, a difficult thing to summarize. Thus, I will begin with some preliminary thoughts concerning the deconstruction of ideas and terms that took place in our course throughout the term.

Of course, now that the term is nearly over, I find that my earlier preconceptions about the course structure prior to actually attending were rather naïve and short-sighted on my part; however, I do not think myself to have been so naïve as to have presumed that our course would not focus upon deconstructing methodological preconceptions. I have found it quite challenging to maintain a consistent scholarly voice and position throughout the duration of this course. Furthermore, I have found many of the methodological problems quite difficult to respond to and yielding troubling consequences for my scholarship.

Needless to say, I found this very disconcerting (as likely most other scholars have experienced at least once during their careers). Furthermore, upon the discovery that such basic terms (such as ‘text’, ‘context’, ‘gender’, ‘performance’, ‘tradition’, etc.) might be so thoroughly critiqued and deconstructed, I continued to find myself falling into scholastic despair thinking that I would be unable to communicate with my fellow peers and colleagues in the study of religion:
Colleague 1: “Considering the context in which 4 Ezra was written, we may derive x, y, and z.”
Andrew: “Context? Which context? Do you mean the context in which the final redaction of 4 Ezra took place? If so, which moment, the moment in which the redactor raised his/her pen from the text or when the redacted form of 4 Ezra began to circulate into the possession of a wider community? Perhaps it would be more efficient for us to speak about 4 Ezra (a) which corresponds to time ‘Ta’ in the evolutional history of the text as opposed to 4 Ezra (b) referring to time ‘Tb’ in its development?
Colleague: “Wait, wait, wait… What are you doing? Can we even catalogue 4 Ezra in so broad and obscure a term as ‘text’?”
Even stepping away from the world of academia for a moment, communication even began to feel much more complex when going to the local McDonald’s:
McDonald’s Cashier: “Would you like some fries with that?”
Andrew: “Would you like fries with that? If by you, you mean me, and if me refers to I and, therefore, the self, I’m really not sure how to respond to your question. Is there really an I involved enough here that it can adequately respond to your question? Or is it, the I that is, merely a product of cultural experience?”
Cashier: “Err… So no fries then sir?”
Andrew: “I’m sorry, you’re going to have to reformulate your question, I’m not entirely sure what you’re really attempting ask me!”

Moreover, I began to find the same communication problems within my course readings. In particular, my self-assurance that I even understood readings at all began to fall into question. Is there any real way of knowing whether I even understood what Bell said at all, or perhaps I am relying too heavily upon Grimes’ interpretation of Bell? Hence, the problems that this course demonstrated for me were largely epistemological ones, and not merely in regards to the limits of what we can learn about an object of study based upon the methodologies we utilize, but also in regards to whether it was even possible to communicate with other scholars about scholastic issues. Before I was able to take anything constructive away from the course, I found myself in an intellectual mist until, finally, I recalled the epistemological training I had undertaken in my undergraduate philosophy courses. In particular, the approach taken in this class reminded me very much of the global skeptic.

Put simply, the skeptic sheds doubt upon proposed premises. Moreover, the global skeptic sheds doubt upon everything and maintains that nothing can be known. In fact, the Global Skeptic maintains that they can’t even known that they don’t know (as Keith Lehrer proposed) in contrast to Socratic skepticism which maintains that “I know one thing, that I don’t know anything.” Although I do not maintain that everyone in our class is individually a global skeptic, I do believe that we can, evidently, see a skeptical attitude present within our group as a whole, and, moreover, as a collective, our class tends to treat terms in a skeptical fashion. Unlike the global skeptic, however, our class appears to have certain implicit axiomatic epistemological presuppositions. For example, our course met every week to discuss the issues, demonstrating that everyone that came each week assumed that there would, indeed, be a group to attend and discuss that week’s issues with. This may seem a little absurd, but to the global skeptic, such an assumption would be called into question. Furthermore, we all discussed the issues both in our blogs and in our class, which demonstrates that we all assumed that some sort of communication was not only possible but efficacious (why else would we discuss these things?). Thus, it is evident to me that there are at least a few presuppositions that our class was unwilling to shed. This became, for me, the first building block which I took away from this course; namely, that scholars appear to have a tendency to maintain at least certain basic foundational precepts that they are either reluctant to admit and realize or unwilling to shed (for whatever reasons). The second building block which I have taken from this class is the limitation of any given methodology. Albeit, I had already presumed any approach to the study of religion to be problematic, I admit that I have discovered many additional problems within existing methodologies that I had not considered before. Third, my exposure to several alternative approaches to the study of religion allowed me to see various different possible approaches to studying religion.

I will now regress and demonstrate several problems that arise out of these three building blocks. Regarding the first, I am, as yet, uncertain what all of these epistemological axioms which people are unwilling to shed actually are. Thus, although it is evident that people do have certain axioms, I do not know that there are any that are shared amongst all people (in fact, I suspect there are not). Regarding the third, due to disagreements not only within our class, but amongst professional scholars, I am uncertain how to adequately define any given methodology. However, is it even necessary to do so? Does any person’s own methodological approach even need to be categorized into an approach which is utilized by a group of scholars? Do any two scholars have the same methodological approach? Does an individual’s approach even need to be the same from one project to the next? If so, this would seem to preclude the possibility of improving one’s methodological approach.

In light of these three conclusions, I must consider what they mean for me as an individual when I approach the study of religion? To these questions, I once again appeal to epistemology and the global skeptic. The problem with epistemology is that when speaking about knowledge, certain terms and definitions are given, and from these definitions, skeptics (and others) demonstrate alleged problems. Moreover, the global skeptic concludes that (if knowledge = true justified belief) then having any sort of knowledge is impossible. However, there is something terribly cunning which occurs in the skeptical approach to both epistemology and religious studies. In both cases, the skeptic (of epistemology or religion) has defined the parameters and given us the terms which we are supposed to work from, so, as soon as we even attempt to respond or dispute their conclusions we have already implicitly decided that we will ‘operate’ within the parameters set out by the skeptic. The solution to these problems is to not allow the skeptics to define our own parameters.

As scholars, if we have even a shred of hope or any aspiration to move forward with our work, we must define our own parameters and methodological approaches. Skeptics also have their own axioms. They utilize their own language to define their puzzles, and determine the deconstructitvist outcomes. In attempting to respond, we utilize their tools and attempt to follow in their footsteps in order to solve the puzzles which they have woven from their own hands. If we wish to construct, we too must do the same, we must be willing to outline our own frameworks, and not allow the sophistry to manipulate them. The global skeptic chooses to accept that knowledge = true justified belief, and similarly, all scholars in religious studies have their own axiomatic beliefs from which they ultimately derive their own methodological paths. Hence, in light of the deconstruction that has occurred in this course, I believe that we must either make a stand or allow ourselves to continuously be dragged down mercilessly into skeptical puzzles. We can either choose to step outside of the sophist religious studies scholars’ framework, or we can allow ourselves to be caught up in them and neglect construction. If we step outside of the puzzles and discover that certain earlier assumptions still do not work, then, I agree, we may consider abandoning certain presuppositions; however, if we can only speak about certain problems within an academic setting and when we return home at night forget that communication is allegedly impossible and continue to communicate with our parents, spouse, siblings, friends, etc.; then, perhaps, the problem does not exist at all!

I do believe that methodological approaches must continually be critically reevaluated. Thus, I maintain, as I did in my first blog, “the importance of a collaborative approach to studying religious texts, because personal prejudices and seemingly all methodological approaches to religious texts have their limitations which may only begin to be rectified by the synthesizing of ideas.” Hence, I have learned that my (developing) scholarly voice is my methodological approach. I admit to my own personal biases and underlying presuppositions (even if I am unable to identify them all); however, my hope is that through the persistent collaboration and critique of other scholars that my own personal conclusions may continue to be ‘purified’.

In regards to an alternative method of teaching the course, a historical approach might have been taken. Namely, we might have investigated how the religious studies methodologies (and perhaps even the objects of study) have changed over the years. However, I suspect that such an approach to methodology would result in a totally different class from the one which we have been attending. A course based on the history of methodological approach would have revealed interesting trajectories in terms of political interests throughout the history of studying religion; whereas, the course we have taken yielded data regarding human understanding and presuppositions of terms and approaches. I believe that this proposed alternative would likely be equally efficacious but very different from what we have done this term. Moreover, I believe that either approach would have lead the class as a whole deeper and deeper into skeptical doubt regarding the study of religion and methodology. Moreover, the invaluable solution to the reapplication of the skeptical problem to religious studies which I have found through doing the readings and participating in the discussions in this course is not something that I believe can exactly be ‘taught’; rather, I suspect it must be learned. Namely, you cannot simply tell someone how to solve these skeptical problems regarding key terms (including religion, ritual, etc.). I think that they need to be discovered. What do I know though? Perhaps what I have constructed from this course are the results of my own personal assumptions? Might my own thinking not be refined through the fire of critical response?