Sunday, September 28, 2008

3. 2009-2010 SSHRC Proposal

In her article “Praying for a Godly Fumigation: Disgust and the New Christian Right,” Lynne Arnault points to two waves of conservative Christian political activism as the catalysts for the current neo-conservative state of the American evangelical movement[1]. One area in which the effect of this reclamation of tradition values is seen, is in that of gender roles. In particular, my research will focus on the objectification of young women by the patriarchal nature of their evangelical congregation, as highlighted in the rituals of Purity Balls.

The 1997 brainchild of Randy and Lisa Wilson, Purity Balls are elaborate social functions wherein girls, aged 4 to 19, pledge their purities to their fathers. The father, in turn, accepts his daughter’s purity by placing a ring on her wedding finger. He vows before god and the congregation to be the protector of his daughter’s chastity until the day she is married. Today, Purity Balls are prominent in 48 states in the US[2], and the practice is gaining popularity in evangelical congregations across Canada, including the Snow Creek Ministry in Alberta.

My two-year MA research project will focus on developing a comprehensive analysis of the roots of this movement by the New Christian Right. My principal question will narrow in on why such a conservative, religious movement is gaining popularity in the otherwise secular landscape of 21st century North America. At the University of Toronto, I have the opportunity to work under the supervision of Dr. Pamela Klassen, whose expertise lies in the areas of Christianity, gender issues, cultural change and conflict in 19th and 20th century North America. Furthermore, a two year MA program affords me the chance pursue a collaborative degree with the Women & Gender Studies Department, as I believe that an interdisciplinary approach is crucial to studying and understanding a complex entity like the gender-based rituals of the evangelical movement. While no additional coursework is required for me to collaborate with the Women & Gender Studies Department, my major research paper will have to focus on an issue pertinent to the study of women and gender.

During this two year degree, I will be undertaking course work that will supplement my own research, including courses that explore ethnographic issues, and political discourses in the realm of religion. As well, as part of the Master’s program at the Centre for the Study of Religion at the University of Toronto, students are required to show evidence of reading knowledge of one language of modern scholarship or a necessary source language. To this end I am currently focusing on French, as it is a vital language to posses in my field of research due to its prominence in modern scholarship.

My primary methodologies will be historical and theoretical. I intend on exploring the political and religious environs that gave rise to the late twentieth-century phenomenon of Purity Balls. Furthermore, I would like to investigate the symbolism that this ritual is rife with – including, but not limited to, girls as the owners of the means of sexual pollution, inherently incestuous undertones, and the absence of a matriarchal figure in the ritual itself. While I would eventually like to employ an ethnographic lens through which to study the topic of Purity Balls, I feel that a two year Master’s program is not time enough to explore the amount of detail that an ethnographic work would entail. By building a theoretical and historical foundation for the topic, I feel I am laying the groundwork for future ethnographic work on the subject. I believe that through my major research project, I will be able to contribute a critically unique perspective on a ‘traditionalist’ modern movement that is quickly gaining prominence in the North American consciousness.

[1] Arnault, Lynne S. "Praying for a Godly Fumigation: Disgust and the New Christian Right." Global Feminist Ethics. Ed. DesAutels, Peggy & Whisnant, Rebecca. Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield, 2008. 217-242.
[2] Gills, Charlie. “Dad's your prom date: Wedding-like purity balls celebrate men as father-protectors.” Maclean’s Magazine. October 8, 2007.

Sunday, September 21, 2008

2. Religión y Estudios Religiosos

(Religions and Religious Studies)

Both Jonathan Z. Smith and Tomoko Masuzawa address the 19th century’s need to classify religions into neatly labeled boxes. In The Invention of World Religions, Masuzawa traces the roots of this need to classify back to the 17th century when historians sought to “Europeanize” Christianity by proposing that the true history of Christianity, i.e. the religion of Europe, was not to be found in the Hebrew Bible, but rather in a Hellenic tradition (Masuzawa, xiii).

There was a dual purpose for this hellenization and aryanization of Christianity. Primarily, it was to distinguish it from the increasingly Semitic seeming tradition of Islam. Secondly, the ideals of empirical data were becoming progressively more widely accepted and expected. The ‘modern’ notion that most of the prized institutions of the West (i.e. science, art, rationality, democracy, etc) were of Greek origin conspicuously highlighted Christianity as the non-Hellenic anomaly among the Hellenic pedigree of the European heritage (Masuzawa, 18-19).

This focus on the scientific as the ideal is what characterized the 19th century. It was the 19th century that gave rise to the notion of ‘social sciences’ – that is, empirically studying those fields that had traditionally been viewed through a philosophical lens. Masuzawa holds that at the end of the 18th century, history was no longer a narration of morally and spiritually edifying tales of the past. Rather, for the first time, history had become the work of researchers, whose cardinal objective was to establish certain undeniable facts (or, truths) about the past (Masuzawa, 15). In his article Eastern Scripture Among the World’s Religions, Robert Van Voorst asserts that the 19th century saw European scholars begin a systematic enterprise of critically investigating religious traditions. These scholars became concerned primarily with context rather than with content - paying attention to proper translation rather than theology (Van Voorst, 2).

Smith states that the issue of classifying ‘religions’ arose in response to the “explosion of data” (Smith, 275). Tools such as first-hand missionary testimonies of foreign ‘religions’, ethnographic research, encyclopedias of religions, lexica, and handbooks were used to organize the empirical data regarding ‘religions’ (Smith, 275).

To classify a set of data causes it to become pigeonholed into that category rather than exist in its organic form. Unlike the data achieved in a Chemistry laboratory (where nonetheless human error is inevitable), the ‘data’ of human phenomena cannot be neatly boxed into groups with no outliers. For this very reason, applying the supposedly higher ideals of science to the traditionally philosophy-focused fields of human nature proves problematic.

In order to properly classify religions in the 19th century, certain basic schemes had to be employed. Masuzawa writes, “the ‘great’ religions of the world are often classified with binary, tripartite, or even multifarious divisions” (Masuzawa, 2). The basic divide in the binary schema was Christianity versus everything else. This ambiguous ‘everything else’ category was further broken down by Abrahamic traditions versus the other, more mysterious, ‘religions’. Masuzawa refers to this distinction as “prophetic religions” versus “wisdom religions” (Masuzawa, 3). Under the tripartite scheme of classification, religious traditions are broken down by geography: the Near East, South Asia, and the Far East. Furthermore, this schema seems to give credence to a racially divisive notion of ethnic difference (Masuzawa, 3). Additionally, religions that do not fit into this neat cookie-cutter diagram fall into the more minor categories of primitive, tribal, or basic religions (Masuzawa, 4). Apparently, a lack of written history equals a lack so of history in general, hence the term ‘primal’ for religious traditions that are pre-literate! Masuzawa asserts that the 19th century obsession with the primitive and the original is that it was also a turn away form the euro-centric and euro-hegemonic conception of the world – moving toward a more egalitarian and later delineation. The Van Voorst article holds on several instances that the presence of scripture is the binding feature of a religious tradition.

To empirically historicize the world’s religions, Smith outlines four basic assumptions that underlie the act of classification itself: 1) ‘Religion’ is a category that is imposed from the outside on a culture. 2) ‘Religion’ is thought to be a universally present human experience. 3) The characteristics of ‘Religion’ are universally apparent to everyone. And 4) ‘Religion’ as an anthropological, rather than a theological, category (Smith, 269).

To conclude I would like to bring up a point that is sort of highlighted in the Van Voorst article, that also came up in a conversation that I was having with a friend recently. That is, the idea and practice of categorization, while a 19th century development, has become a 20th - and 21st - century mainstay. These broad stroke categories are how we are thought about the world's religions, but also how we learn about the world in general. For instance, Hindus today refer to themselves as such - they may not be able to explain what that means or identify with a different type of "Hindu" but each Hindu is convinced of the banner under which he or she falls. An interesting example of this is the RLG205 - Introduction to South Asian Religions course - the professor for that course was constantly challenged because a practicing Hindu student in the class hadn't learned, or didn't subscribe to, what was being taught. Although there were often contradictory viewpoint, each practicing Hindu student was convinced that he or she was the 'real' Hindu! So, my point and question is this: while we are self-aware enough to acknowledge the categories that exist, how do we reformulate a schema that, while only a couple hundred years old, seems ingrained in our sense of (religious) self?

Sunday, September 14, 2008

1. ¿Cuál es Metodología?

(What is Methodology?)
Meaning is always meaning in the context of history, and history includes both the text and its various interpreters.
~ "Methodological Considerations," Huntington (10)
I use Huntington's article as a springboard from which to analyze the readings for this week because his theories of methodology and historical research provided me with a comprehensive framework within which to situate my understanding of the subject at hand.

Early in his article (5-6), Huntington outlines two research models upon which historical methodological investigation has traditionally been conducted: the philological, or text-critical, model, and the proselytic model.

The philological model draws on the branch of knowledge that deals with the structure, historical development, and relationships of languages. It makes use of all available resource materials in order to relate known historical events to one another. For instance, the philological model will often use multiple translations of a source to arrive at a median of meaning. Its aim is to define a coherent tradition for the continuum of texts, where meaning is trumped by material.

In comparison to the philological model’s rigorous methodology and attention to sources, the proselytic model is often seen as less rigorous in its methodology. It is uncritical and accepts historical accounts at face value, rather than digging further or questioning other sources. The existence of tradition is taken for granted rather than questioned. Often, this model is seen as the laissez-faire sister to the type-A philological model!

In a world where the scientific method trumps all, it is no wonder that Huntington asserts that the philological model is given scholarly preference over the proselytic model. I must insert here, my own thought on the idea of scientific methodology: while I am of the mind that nothing can replace tried-and-true, resource rich, research, there is something to be said for giving credence to tradition-based research; especially in fields of scholarship that deal with intangible entities such as history, anthropology, art, and time periods not currently available. Furthermore, while the philological method aims to emulate the scientific method of research in its rigour, it fails to take a stab at ‘meaning’ – because ultimately, isn’t the aim for doing research not for research’s own sake, but rather for the purposes of better understanding that which is being studied? Furthermore, I believe the two categories of methodology to be premature. That is, while they exist neatly in theory, the categories are more fluid in reality. Huntington concurs with this thought in his article (8-9) when he asserts that in order to maximize the work of literary predecessors, it is vital to dismantle the methodology used, use what is valuable to the present research, and move on. He believes that this is a necessary step that will ultimately “break the closed circle of dogmatic adherence to methodology” (9).

By blurring the lines between hard-and-fast methodology, Huntington believes that a fuller understanding will be reached. “Understanding of a distant text requires a step beyond translation and reconstruction of the context of its source, mode by mode, so as to describe and explore its particularity” (9). I use this sentiment as a segue into the Bynum articles.

Bynum corroborates Huntington’s notion that historically-inclined research must be multi-modal. She explains methodology as a means to achieving a goal (Holy Feast, 6). Ultimately however, Bynum leans toward the philological model’s end of the research spectrum in her belief that a historian’s job is to regurgitate fragments and piece them into a whole (Fragments, 14). Simultaneously, in accordance with a more proselytic viewpoint, she also holds that history itself is disproportionately reflective of those with greater access to means of communication and to raw power (Fragments, 17). For instance here, Bynum is critical of the positioning of the medieval woman within male created categories, and believes critical questioning to be the answer.

Later in In Praise of Fragments, Bynum addresses the methodology of historians and anthropologists in modern-day scholarship. In the past, historians used quantitative methodology as the cornerstone of research; today, however, literary theory and the study of anthropology has joined that methodology to provide a more rounded way of studying the past through our 21st century lenses.

The comedic, or ironic, stance that Bynum adopts in her writing of this article (and book) is a means of acknowledging that while she is a particular person at a particular moment in history, i.e. a female historian in the 21st century, she is attempting to comprehend the position of the medieval woman outside of the presupposed boxes created by medieval patriarchy or modern feminism. By seeking the truth in the fragments and, like Huntington suggested, letting go of the rest, Bynum seeks to find meaning to history (Fragments, 26).

In Introduction: Holy Feast, there were a couple of methodological aspects that I appreciated, as a reader. First, I liked that Bynum explains explicitly the extent and limits of her research for the purposes of that particular book. While see acknowledges that the scope of her research could go beyond the book, she sets up parameters within which to work thus preventing the reader from being disillusioned about the aims of the book itself. Secondly, Bynum provides reasoning for limiting her scope within the book. Finally, in this introductory chapter, Bynum points out the possible weak points within the research. By doing so, Bynum creates an opportunity to be self-analytical and possible reparation. This also creates a stepping-stone upon which further research can be jump-started.

I would like to conclude this week’s blog with a theme that I found recurring through the readings – the idea of branches, or limbs. Methodology seems to be like a robust tree from which a multitude of limbs grow, each with sub-limbs of their own. A researcher seems to have a plethora of forks in the methodological road – meaning versus interpretation, observation versus analysis, text-critical versus proselytic research, multi-modal versus uni-modal, tradition versus modernity…
The body is a unit, though it is made up of many parts; and though all its parts are many, they form one body.
~ 1 Corinthians 12 (New International Version)