Sunday, December 7, 2008

The Prospects of Being the ‘Passive’ Observer within a Religious Community

I thoroughly enjoyed Coleman’s problematization of the insider/outsider debate in regards to not only evangelical communities but to ethnography in general. One aspect about the study of religion that I not only find quite interesting but also quite attractive is its undeniable significance within contemporary society. This is, of course, particularly the case in regards to modern religious movements and traditions found throughout the present-day world. Thus, the fact that the study of contemporary religious movements carries with it inevitably embedded personal biases and often results in emotional responses further problematizes its study and observation. What I find striking about Simon Coleman’s papers is his ability to demonstrate the impossibility of approaching a tradition from an unbiased or impartial perspective. Furthermore, I believe that his discussion concerning Stephen Warner (49-51) thoroughly demonstrates some of the ways in which the study of a contemporary religion might creep into a scholar’s personal life and subsequently affect the way one considers the tradition.

Coleman explains that Warner found himself interested in studying the Mendocino Presbyterian Church in California because both his ex-wife and son had joined the congregation (49). Indeed, he himself was a “long-lapsed Presbyterian”. In fact, Warner later married “a fellow choir member of the church” (51). In practice, he openly participated in the ritualistic aspects within the community (with the exclusion of communion) (50). However, Warner attempted to still keep a barrier between himself and the full-fledged members of the Presbyterian community through the medium of a verbal barrier: “‘My rule was not to say anything I did not believe, and therefore I never offered a prayer.’” (50). In light of the recount of Warner’s liminal experience between member of the church and ethnographer, I found Coleman’s question – “can we still maintain with Warner that it is ethically consistent to hold hands in a prayer circle, but not to speak the words of a prayer?” to be a very acute question to consider.

Upon reading through the experiences of Gellner, Harding, Warner, and Coleman himself, I began to reflect on personal experiences of visiting various religious communities and observing traditional practices in order to better understand communal rituals, beliefs, and concerns. One of the groups which I found most interesting was a small Messianic Jewish congregation situated in London. The Messianic movement is a relatively recent branch of Christianity that attempts to uphold both Jewish legal traditions while maintaining their confession of faith in Jesus and the authority of the New Testament. Even within Messianic Christianity there are several sub-sects which vary largely in terms of which community leans more heavily upon Jewish traditions versus Christian traditions. The particular group that I attended maintained fairly strong ties with local Evangelical churches but also leaned fairly heavily upon Jewish traditions (especially ritual and some liturgy). Hence, with their emphasis upon such issues as maintaining kosher (indeed a large portion of the members were themselves ethnically Jewish) but their interaction with several Evangelical communities made them a very unique religious community.

Upon visiting this community, I found it very difficult to discern how much I could ethically participate and not participate within a given community while visiting. In fact, I originally visited the Messianic community with the naïve intention of merely ‘observing’ their weekly communal gathering. I had believed that my own participation in the community would be a harmless one in which I might be able to remain ‘hidden away’ or ‘blended in’ the background of the congregation and left undisturbed whilst I examined the community. However, similar to Harding who was unsuspectingly ‘invaded by the fundamental Baptist tongue’ (46-47), I soon found myself not only invited but pulled into the Messianic experience. The weekly Shabbat Schule (Sabbath School) takes place every Saturday and includes much more than an hourly ‘service’ as many churches do. Rather, the Schule is a full day event (including a communal breakfast, worship, teaching, readings in Hebrew, lunch, small group discussions, Davidic dance, fellowshipping, etc.). Thus, when I entered the Schule I opened myself up for much more than just an hour’s quiet and passive observation. During the Oneg (the communal meal) I was bombarded with friendly questions such as “Are you Messianic?”, “Will we see you on Wednesday at the small group session?” “Are you a musician, perhaps you could help out with the worship music?” and many other similar questions.

Needless to say, I began to experience a sense of guilt for intruding into their community without any clear intention of becoming a ‘full’ member. Thus, I soon felt compelled to confess to them (especially the rabbi) that I was not a Messianic in order to do away with any sort of confusion. However, upon this confession (to several members), I was immediately welcomed as a beloved guest in their extended family, and treated as an ‘insider’ and long lost brother rather than an ‘outsider’ and stranger, and I was soon invited to several Messianic functions. Moreover, out of my fascination and developing admiration for the community, I continued to attend several Schule meetings. In fact, I eventually became a regular attendee of the Tuesday night Hebrew lessons later that year (out of both interest and for practical purposes). However, through all of my interaction with (and love for) the congregation, I never became a ‘full member’. Thus, I began to straddle a liminal space, similar to Coleman’s experience of blending in with the younger members at the Word of Life church (80-81), between being an observer and a participant within the community.

There are several important points to demonstrate in both my experience with the Messianic congregation and other religious communities. First, the Messianics do not maintain a strict separation between members of the Schule and their personal social circles. Instead, the Messianic movement is very much a community based tradition which strives to create social cohesion in all aspects of life (from Saturday worship, to weekday meals, to raising children, etc.). Everything (even menial things) are done in cooperation with the other members of the Schule; thus, for one who attends the Schule, you are immediately adopted as a close social friend (which immediately became my experience with the Schule). This implies that for the outside ethnographer who seeks to study this tradition (and others which do not maintain distinctions between social friends and friends within religious communities) that to properly understand this tradition, he/she must immerse themselves entirely into the tradition. This involves not only attending the weekly Schule and prayer meetings, etc., but sharing meals, babysitting children, and genuinely becoming an important part of the other members’ lives. Second, such an immersion into the community requires an emotional investment on behalf of the ethnographer. This emotional investment and the unavoidable relationships which develop in light of this investment into the tradition compromise one’s ability to maintain a strictly ‘detached’ and ‘unsympathetic’ approach to the tradition.

Thus, is it possible, as Coleman questions, for an ethnographer to straddle the space of both ‘self’ and ‘other’ when studying certain traditions such as Harding who lost control of her interview with the Baptist pastor (46-47)? Furthermore, Coleman questions the ethical dimension of holding hands in a prayer circle but not praying (53); however, are we to limit religion to a phenomena purely related to one’s personal belief? The Messianics view participation within the Schule as merely the climax of an entire week of an involvement with the community; thus, to truly observe the community, one must become involved in personal lives and emotions. Is it possible for the ethnographer to maintain ‘detached’ in these cases? Is it ethically responsible to participate in rituals such as worship music to more personal daily functions such as eating with the community yet maintain one’s distance as the purely ‘observing’ scholar? Is such an intrusion upon personal lives permissible for the sake of scholarship? Is it possible for the outsider to be able to investigate such a community without significantly impacting the community? Is it possible to remain the merely passive observer for the sake of anthropology while being invited to community members’ homes for meals, prayer, and discussion?