BLACK THEOLOGY, BLACK BODIES, AND PEDAGOGY
The black body has both economic and religious importance
in North America.
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, Santería: 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.
in North America.
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, Santería: 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.
