Boundaries, Elves and Writing

Today a colleague of mine shared with me that he had seen a medieval Christian incantation to ward off elves. Besides the fact that I didn't realize that elves were something that someone would want or need to ward off (aren't they benevolent and beautiful?), I'm still tickled when I run across something that patently challenges our notions about what is "Christian" or "Pagan." The ways that individuals and communities blend, bend and borrow seemingly disparate and immutable categories, beliefs and practices is simply fascinating to me. Maybe this is one of the reasons I enjoy studying religion. I find the mixing of kinds and the breaking of boundaries enjoyable in my scholarship as well.

While I was trained as a New Testament scholar, which is a field known for its sometimes strict boundaries, I entered the field (my doctoral studies) with a pretty broad range of interests. Unlike some of my colleagues, I didn't follow a neat trajectory from college to grad work in NT. After dong an undergraduate degree in philosophy (even though what I really wanted to study was art) and spending some time working for an urban community organizing, faith-based non profit, I graduated with little sense of a specific career path. Yet, a love of literature and existential philosophy pushed me to think about grad schools. When I applied to masters degree programs, however, I applied to a variety of programs ranging from philosophy programs to masters in divinity. I went where the money was (i.e. a full ride fellowship)--divinity school. Even there I didn't entirely focus on NT or biblical texts, even though a NT professor I had the first semester began serving as an unofficial mentor. I continued my affair with the melancholy Dane, worked on my art, did some congregational analysis, along with studying Greek and Hebrew. As I thought about Ph. D. programs, I decided to do NT since I thought it would tether me to a single era/ set of literature from which I could then explore a variety of questions, methods, interpretations, ideas, images, etc, etc.

But, as is typically the case, grad school meant focus, even though I was also encouraged by some of my mentors to push on the boundaries of the field. (At least to some extent.) I embraced conceptual metaphor theory and cognitive linguistics as methodological tools and I sought to engage not only ancient, but also medieval and modern feminist interpretations of the text in my work. Still, for the sake "finishing" my dissertation I ended up with a fairly traditional piece of work. Since then my scholarship largely has been confined to more traditional NT work. It's been focused on the ancient world and employs the theoretical primarily as a tool for explicating the text. It's fine, but not the creative blend of interests that followed me into graduate school.

More recently, however, I've been trying to recapture the fun that I had when I first entered academia. I used to enjoy odd pairings, crossing disciplinary boundaries, employing the theoretical as I engaged the concrete. I want to recapture those impulses--as long as my fears don't get the best of me. I've written one essay that should come out shortly that really does push these sorts of boundaries, as I engage Revelation's image of the Whore, ancient and modern understandings of prostitution and queer theory. And now I'm working on the book that I wanted my dissertation to be, which is an exploration of how real readers have envisioned Revelation's city-bride imagery, the image of the New Jerusalem. This requires, obviously, engaging the works of interpreters who are not necessarily within my field of expertise (NT). In fact, I'm engaging the writings of two medieval women and the multi-media works of two modern women. This definitely requires me to do a lot of work in areas that push the boundaries of my knowledge, but it is, quite simply, fun and invigorating work. Still, there are times when I worry that I'm pushing too far. How will my colleagues in other disciplines feel? Am I stepping on any toes? Will anyone understand what I'm trying to do? I try to approach my work with humility. I realize that I'm not a medieval historian, art historian, church historian, theorist on modern American hermeneutics, etc, etc, etc. I'm not and I'm not trying to be. Still, I would like to be in conversations with other disciplines and scholars. I think these conversations can help me be a better New Testament scholar, a better reader of texts. Engaging a variety of conversations and media can, hopefully, make me a better interpreter of the subtle ways that texts challenge and inspire. So, as I move forward with my work, I resolve to embrace the challenge of working across disciplines, the possibility of engaging multiple intellectual senses. I want to be a little like the elvish incantation--breaking boundaries and challenging people's perceptions. I'll try not to worry too much . . .