BLACK THEOLOGY, BLACK BODIES, AND PEDAGOGY
by Anthony B. Pinn
The black body has both economic and religious importance in
North America.
ANTHONY B. PINN is an Associate Professor of Religious Studies and
Coordinator of the African American Studies Program at Macalester
College. His current projects include a volume on theological method
and a history of Black churches in the United States.
I have an interest in theologically thinking through what it means --
epistemologically, institutionally and ritually -- to be African
American and religious. Much of my work speaks to my wrestling with this
issue through historical and theological descriptions of the diversity
that marks African American religious experience, the underlying
assumption being that resolutions to the question of what it means to be
African American and religious require comparative analysis. I am
working from the belief that there are common elements within the
various forms of African American religious experience that, when
explored, can shed light on my above stated concern. My approach to
this, in earlier work, particularly Why, Lord? (1995) and Varieties
of African American Religious Experience (1998), revolved around
the problem of evil as a way of moving theologians into a discussion of
African American religiosity (in all its various forms) through
attention to cosmology, doctrines of God, and theological anthropology.
I am satisfied with the way in which the problem of evil functions as a
way into the thought or belief of various traditions. However, I think
there is more to ritual or enactment within African American religions
that is not fully mined through attention to the problem of evil. What
can those in African American religious studies use to address ritual or
enactment?
Within the essay I make an effort to begin addressing this question
in two ways -- theoretically and pedagogically: (1) I suggest that
my understanding of cultural memory and archaeologically informed
theology promote a rethinking of the body as a cultural artifact and as
a ritualized space or item that enlivens our understanding of religious
ritual; and, (2) I address the pedagogical challenges connected
with this conception of the body. My goal is to think through the agenda
of my earlier work and extend it.
I begin this discussion with a few contextual comments concerning the
nature of Black liberation theology and the correctives I offer through
a challenge of traditional assumptions concerning African American
cultural memory and ways in which this memory is deciphered and
represented. Liberation theology, generally speaking, is committed to
the experiential nature of religious experience, and the connections
between religious orientations and social transformation. As a natural
outgrowth of this perspective, liberation theologies are committed to
the cultural production of particular groups as vital material for the
construction of theological reflection. That is to say, theological
reflection, if it is liberating, must speak from and to the existential
and cultural reality of the oppressed community addressed. The
difficulties associated with doing this are many. For example, might not
direct contact with the context of cultural artifacts, because time
continues to move forward and representations replace realities,
be lost?
Collective and individual cultural memory decays. Whether one argues
that the present shapes our perception of the past (social construction)
or the past shapes the present (construction through commemoration), the
fact remains that a clear and uncontaminated link between the past and
present -- the workings of collective memory -- is hard to establish.
Cultural memory is again problematic because it is not only composed of
cultural artifacts, we also use it to decode and interpret (place in
meaningful context) those artifacts.
We have often failed to remember the warning the above should sound.
Instead, we fill gaps that allow for the construction of a Black
theological program that seems consistent, refined, undeniable. And
although undeniably important, it appears to be in part based upon a
misuse of cultural resources because it fails to hold in tension
cultural memory that is best ruptured. The tendency is to essentialize
cultural memory through the few cultural artifacts close to the surface
that we grab in our haste to construct a useful theological stance.
Even theological agendas that bring into question normative
assumptions within African American theological reflection do so, it
seems, using only the resources offered them. For example, critiques of
homophobia and heterosexism in Black churches and black theology tend to
revolve around rereadings of scripture and the open nature of religious
community. Why is not attention given, whether ultimately fruitful or
not, to homo-eroticism in black musical expression? Why is not the
assumed heterosexual norm of black slave communities and relationships
explored? Does any one explore possible cultural artifacts that point to
homosexuality in slave communities? I suggest that archaeology provides
a way to acknowledge the fragile nature of the cultural memories from
which we theologically draw without being held prisoner by this problem.
A point of clarification is necessary before moving on. My use of the
term archaeology is meant to be a symbolic appropriation of the term as
a metaphor for the risk-filled "digging" for cultural and
sociopolitical elements that point to a community's thought and way of
life. Archaeological method applied to theology -- archaeological
theology -- is useful because it facilitates and in fact requires the
problematicization of assumed cultural history and findings. It
understands the manner in which cultural memory is developed and
forgotten; and as a result, is suspicious of implicit or explicit claims
to certainty. New methodological insights generated by this approach
relate to the manner in which artifacts function in a variety of
concealed ways. It encourages an understanding of cultural memory and
cultural artifacts as influenced by a variety of external facts such as
sociopolitical and economic realities. These realities do not always
destroy artifacts and memory, but they do force the hiding or concealing
of cultural production; and so, the artifacts uncovered and explored are
fragments of a larger cultural picture. Some of these artifacts are
concealed in plan view -- captured in our physicality. As both Frantz
Fanon and Hortense Spillers suggest, the most visible but overlooked
artifact is the human body. With this in mind, I want to draw attention
to the manner in which the body has held both economic and religious
importance in North America. And, I will use this to move my argument
from a general discussion of the body as cultural artifact to an
understanding of the body as a complex religious presence -- both ritual
item and ritualized space.
The importance of the body was recognized early in the context of
North America. One need only reflect on various forms of evangelical and
reform activities in the North American colonies and the young United
States for evidence of this. During the early to mid-1800s many within
the United States turned reformers attention to the importance of the
body in the development of a strong and morally upstanding country.
Fueled by the first Great Awakening, reformers such as Lyman Beecher
recognized that the health of the physical body was connected to
spiritual and societal renewal. In accordance the manual labor movement
sought to enhance seminary training through attention to physical
activity that kept the body strong and ministers alive. It was
understood that the body served as both an outward sign of inner
strength and vitality necessary to actually do the well of God. The
religious, in other words, live through the body not in spite of the
body. This attention to the human's physical presence continued in the
efforts of the manual labor movement where concentration on the private
sphere allowed some to argue that the body's health needed to be
maintained as part of one's responsibility to God. For white reformers
the body's importance was sure because of its real and symbolic value
related to spiritual well being and connection to divine designs.
African Americans, during this period and beyond, would also embrace
the importance of the body. Countering attempts to mark African
Americans as a lesser form of life often entailed attention to the black
body as important and beautiful over against society's claims regarding
white supremacy based on genetic and physical features. The work of
figures such as Henry McNeal Turner with respect to black humanity does
not end with the turn of the century.
It strikes me that much of what has been produced with respect to
various forms of African American theology, and Black religious studies
in general, has addressed the importance of the Black body. This is
clearly expressed in the early connections between the Black Power
Movement and Black Theology and it is more recently represented in the
work of Womanist scholars. The appeal made by Black theologians to
African American literature encourages this attention to the body. One
can see this, for example, in the use of slave narratives and conversion
accounts that highlight the transformation of lives through a marked
physical wrestling. That is to say, spiritual renewal is attested to
through a travail seen in the movement of the body. An example of this
is the ring shout through which the spirit descended and salvation
could occur:
De folks git in er ring an' sing an' dance, an' shout; de dance is
jes' a kinder shuffle, den hit gits faster, an' faster as dey gits
wa'amed up; an' dey moans an' shouts; an' sings, an' claps,
an' dance.
Not all African Americans embraced the Christian faith nor an
"Africanized" version of this faith. Some maintained African
practices from which the current traditions of Vodou, Santeria, etc.,
are drawn. These traditions also place an informative importance on the
body. I will use a bembe or celebration for the gods within santeria to
highlight this point. According to Joseph Murphy, the following took
place at a bembe for Shango, the god of thunder:
The music seems to be coming from inside the people as if by their
movement they are liberating the sound from within themselves. One
woman in particular is carried by this energy, and others begin to
channel theirs toward her. The dancing circle clears for her alone,
and the drums focus directly on her. Her eyes are closed, and she is
whirling and whirling. She bumps up against the human ring that
encloses her and gently rebounds back to the circle's
center. . . she falls to the ground.. . .Oshun has
arrived. . . A few minutes later, the embodied orisha
returns splendent in a gold gown. . . The drummers begin her
praises, and all join a litany of her praise names. She dances her
acceptance of these with grace.. . .Occasionally, she brings
others out to dance with her. (Joseph Murphy, Santerķa: African
Spirits in America [Boston: Beacon Press, 1988], 96-97)
What is the value of these depictions of the body as a ritual space
in which the divine is manifest? Ritual celebration, such as possession
in the above two examples, entails a sharing of information and roles
that might be useful for those thinking through theological education in
light of cultural studies. These ritual celebrations are important, for
example, because of the manner in which they highlight the importance of
more than written texts. In fact, the body becomes a primary
consideration because knowledge is passed through the body and various
gestures have tremendous significance for those involved. Within this
final section of my paper, I'd like to provide some of my initial
thoughts on the pedagogical challenges posed by attention to the
physical body. My goal is not to provide a pedagogy that resolves this
problem. Rather, I am interested in discussing the body as a component
of the moment of learning and this, in turn, may be helpful in the later
reformulation of pedagogy. Much of what follows remains problematically
lodged in theory, but it is my hope that we can explore some of these
issues in more concrete ways.
My intention is to give attention to physicality (and aesthetics) as
a way of rethinking the classroom transference of information by giving
brief attention to an extreme example of this -- attention to the body
in the classroom. I will do this using two categories of investigation:
(1) notions of the body provided by ritual studies as a way of
extending my earlier comments and, (2) the classroom as ritual
space and the body as a force in the educational process.
Scholars such as Ronald Grimes argue that traditional definitions of
ritual offered by figures such as Victor Turner are helpful, but they do
not allow for a good understanding of the important qualities of
routines and events that are not somehow related to divine beings.
Grimes talks of ritualization instead of ritual because the former
allows for an investigation that is not limited to the liturgical. For
Grimes, ritualized activities include overtly religious processes, and
also events beyond the liturgical that are continuous yet do not result
in structures commonly understood as "ritual."
Within the work of Grimes and others, the body becomes important
because of the way in which it displays meaning and value through
clothing, gestures, habits, mannerisms, postures or objects associated
with it. Attention to the body is also important because the classroom
understood as ritualized space means that there is an importance given
to the sensory meaning of actions and words, which are experienced and
expressed through physicality. The body is not incidental and the
nondiscursive ways of knowing are valuable. Hence, the body should not
be down-played nor denied. In short, attention to the body urges an
appreciation for nonwritten forms of exchange within our approach to the
classroom. This nonwritten text, when combined with other resources, can
serve to enhance theological education by recognizing the importance of
communication, exchange and understanding beyond the rationality
discerned in written records. That is to say, students and instructors
learn to appreciate the substance of religious expression and experience
that is not captured in sacred texts.
When the body is given this sort of attention and importance within
our pedagogical structures, it is useful to also discuss the various
ways in which the body is presented. I will limit my discussion to a
brief mention of "masking." This process of concealment
involves a transformation meant to project the person as something
"other," than the self. Within the classroom this might be
understood as an attempt to enter ritualized space and approach
theological issues in an objective manner -- to "don"
anonymity. In my context, and perhaps in yours, this issue of masking or
feigned objectivity surfaces with respect to questions such as: how much
of one's own faith stance ought to be shared with students in the
classroom, and what is the purpose of this sharing? Masking, in this
respect, can allow the wearer to stand outside the circle, so to speak,
and in this way control the action without personally risking anything.
Nothing is risked because the person masked (teacher or student) gains,
through pretense, the authority and voice of the dead -- Hegel, Kant, Du
Bois and others. This is not to say that masking is necessarily
"bad." Some masking may be unavoidable if not useful. In one
sense, masking can help individuals develop a sensitivity to the
sociocultural context of another which may, in turn, promote dialogue.
Nonetheless, how and why we don masks might be a useful pedagogical
question, one deserving more attention than I can give it here.
Education informed by attention to the body is enhanced in that the
forms of exchange are broadened to include the physical presence of
those involved. In this way, liberative education is forced to include
an understanding and appreciation of the bodies involved in ways that
move bodily representation away from oppressive -- status quo --
positioning. The teaching moment moves away from a strict appreciation
for the mind and ideas and connects these realities to the physical
presence and meaning of the body, thereby avoiding a mind/ body split.
It recognizes that pedagogical issues must take into consideration not
only curricular concerns, but must also understand that the learning
experience is shaped by the "space" in which learning takes
place, the cultural information brought to the experience by all
participants, who reproduce through their bodies symbols of society with
all their power and danger.
Scholars who seek to provide a scope for justice and liberation
within their teaching should be mindful of what Mary Douglas notes as
the manner in which the body serves as an image of the social system. In
this way, the human's physical form becomes an important means of basic
data related to the body-cultural existence. That is our basic
experience through the body is always given cultural meaning, thus this
culture is nicely explored -- in the classroom -- through refocusing
attention on the body. An understanding of its role in the development
and expression of meaning may form a more critical evaluation of the
self, community and religious traditions in the classroom by giving
attention to the full range of the body's meaning making process and
content. This, then, requires a change in resources used in the
classroom -- a broadened range of "materials" that enliven and
add complexity to our discussion of religiosity and religious reality.
In this way, through a recognition of the body's significance, the
teaching and research of African American religion(s) is better equipped
to explain what it means to be African American and religious.
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Spring/Summer 2000, Vol. 50 Issue 1-2