Updates After Andalucia

So I didn't get all my holiday reading done. Mainly because it's quite hard to read when its 40 degrees. I did get through Dialogue and Deconstruction: The Gadamer-Derrida Encounter and Reading Derrida / Thinking Paul: On Justice, though. So I've got a few more texts to go (especially Realist Christian Theology in a Postmodern Age, which I got half way through about two years ago) before I feel more comfortable in moving ahead with my remaining chapters (mainly Chapters Four, Five and Seven).

While we were away, I did some good thinking on how I'm going to characterise the relationship between my different sources of empirical and theoretical data. I have both empirical texts (interview transcripts, e-questionnaires, and a variety of emerging church media) and theoretical texts (mainly by Jack Caputo and Jamie Smith, but including secondary literature by people like Gavin Hyman, Theodore Jennings, Bruce Ellis Benson, Richard Kearney, Robyn Horner, Merold Westphal, Kevin Hart, and Mark C Taylor).

My starting point is, of course, my empirical data. But because of the very nature of this starting point, my own reading of theology and philosophy has to follow the trajectories of my participants. Therefore, the theoretical texts augment the empirical ones, making in particular two strands clearer within the data. In the process, then, there is a massive amount of literature that I've only been able to dip into, including work by St. Augustine, Alain Badiou, Jacques Derrida, Hans-Georg Gadamer, Martin Heidegger, John Hick, Gerard Loughlin, Immanuel Kant, Soren Kierkegaard, Emmanuel Levinas, Jean-Luc Marion, John Milbank, Friedrich Nietzsche, St. Paul, and Graham Ward, etc.

My thesis is not "on" the work of any of these people. To an extent, it could be said to be "on" deconstructive theology, or Radical Orthodoxy, or, of course, the emerging church milieu. It might even be said to be "on" Jack Caputo and/or Jamie Smith. But I have to be clear that mine is not, for example, a thesis "on Derrida." Instead, I've been thinking about using the word "fragments" to refer to the other reading practices that I have had to engage in. This form of reading does not, for example, "do justice" to "Derrida." On the contrary, it probably does a lot of violence. This is similar to the way that Jennings frames his use of both Derrida and Paul in his Reading Derrida / Thinking Paul: On Justice. He writes,

"the procedure here adopted entails a certain violence to the texts both of Derrida and of Paul, for it requires extracting bits and pieces of their respective arguments in order to show points of convergence and illumination... I hope, however, that the violence of this reading is to a certain degree mitigated by its attempt to undo the greater violence that has come from the supposition that neither author is really concerned with the question of justice" (p.xii)

In the hope of "doing justice" to my empirical texts, I have done violence to the theoretical texts of several philosophers and theologians. As (a "fragment" of!!!) "Derrida" says, "in order to be just, I am unjust and I betray... it is unjust to be just. I always betray someone to be just; I always betray one for the other" ("To Forgive" in Questioning God, p.49).

Also whilst we were away, I also realised that a guiding structural question of my thesis is "how do non-propositional understandings of truth affect participants' relationships to religious propositions?" I had already worked out that Chapter Three, "Thinking Truth(s) Otherwise," moves from participants' considerations of religious propositions to ask whether this is even where religious truth is located and, further, to explore whether religious truth is (also) non-propositional. I had even created a three-fold structure for the closing section ("Non-Propositional Religious Truth"): Truth is God, Truth-Event, and Living in Truth. But, on a train (dictating to Sim, as I don't travel very well), I worked out that part of what my thesis is actually asking is how participants relate non-propositional understandings of religious truth to religious propositions.

In turn, this means that I've been able to much better articulate (should that be, "articulate much better"?!?!?) what I'm up to in some of my thesis chapters. So, the "Interlude" makes clear that a structuring question is, "what does non-propositional religious truth mean for religious propositions?" Then, chapters four, five and seven detail the implications of the non-propositional understandings of truth I enumerated in Chapter Three (Truth is God, Truth-Event, and Living in Truth) for religious propositions. So, Chapter Four presents the implications of "Truth is God" for religious propositions, Chapter Five details what "Truth-Event" means for religious propositions, and (part of) Chapter Seven demonstrates how "Living in Truth" relates to religious propositions. That means that I can clarify that, for the two strands in my data, "dialogue" and "deconstruction" become the respective guiding principles for non-propositional notions of truth to religious propositions. Well, I think that's clearer, at least!

The Ethics of Participant Confidentiality

Cory Labanow's (2009) Evangelicalism and the Emerging Church (see here for my overview and review) raises again the interesting issue of participant confidentiality and anonymity in empirical research. The covering letters for Labanow's demographic survey and interviews contained a promise that anonymity would be preserved (pp.129,131) and he details the initial conversation in which the congregation's pastor asked that congregants be 'unrecognizable' in the research findings (p.41). Labanow is therefore careful to avoid 'any detailed description of specific church members which could lead to their identification' (p.41). However, the community itself (Jacobsfield Vineyard, JV) and its pastor (Mark Lawton) are likewise pseudonymous.

But JV and its pastor are easily identifiable by those familiar with what I call in my study the emerging church milieu. Such recognition stems not only from the community's classification as a UK Vineyard church involved in the emerging church conversation, but also from the narrative of Mark Lawton's personal religious journey and role in relation to a named emerging church organisation readily available through the Internet. These incredibly important situational factors relating to JV could and should not be completely masked (by, for example, excluding all historical or contextual data about the community and its pastor) in the name of protecting either the congregation's collective identity or the pastor's individual particulars, as it would considerably neuter congregational analysis. The necessary inclusion of these factors, however, thereby renders Labanow's attempts to provide anonymity redundant. Further, as an attempt at providing anonymity it is utterly unsuccessful.

It is unclear, therefore, why Labanow bothers. Why not just name this community and its pastor, whilst continuing to provide pseudonyms for the other members of the congregation that he surveys and interviews in order to successfully protect their confidentiality and anonymity?

Such an approach is taken by other researhers in their congregational studies, for example Mathew Guest's (2007) Evangelical Identity and Contemporary Culture: A Congregational Study in Innovation. In his study of St. Michael-le-Belfrey and Visions, York, Guest names the church and therefore its incumbents covering the last forty years, because the history and context of St. Michael-le-Belfrey (a church well-known as a 'vanguard of charismatic evangelicalism since the 1960s,' p.54) are 'illuminating factors' central to the sociological and theological study of its congregation (p.239). Nevertheless, beyond the four most recent vicars, individual congregation members are given pseudonyms to protect their identities.

Guest's method for dealing with the ethics of participant confidentiality is sensible, considering the likelihood of both "insiders" and academics being able to identify St. Michael-le-Belfrey even if anonymised and of significant factors being masked or lost through such a process of anonymisation. This seems to me to be a better way to protect the anonymity of the majority of participants whilst preserving important factors concerning the congregation in general and past and present incumbants that are readily available to the public.

While a congregational study can proceed using pseudonyms for, and a minimum of contextual data about the lives of, individual participants, my own interview-based study requires a different approach. As my participants are from a diverse range of religious communities and backgrounds, I cannot contextualise interview data through recourse to a shared narrative of collective context and history (given not only the diversity of participants' communities but also the diversity of the emerging church milieu itself). My readers can only make sense of the discourses and practices related to me in the interviews through a presentation of aspects of their life-stories. However, the provision of pseudonyms for those participants wishing to remain anonymous must be accompanied, therefore, by a narration of their lives constructed in collaboration with them so as not to reveal what they might regard as identifying factors.

This approach appears adequate for those participants for whom there are no other publically available sources of personal information which might threaten their anonymity. However, I interviewed several participants who have published print media, most notably emerging church, fresh expression, or alternative worship books, and/or write blogs. Whilst only one of these participants requested anonymity (I'll comment on this in a moment), I have for the following reason decided to reject the practice of anonymising all of my participants. I might quote from my interview with, for example, Pete (ikon, Belfast) and then quote a passage from one of his books (the same goes for Kester, Vaux, London; Paul, Foundation, Bristol; Sue, Visions, York; and a number of others). The problem goes like this.

• I use a pseudonym for quotations from interview and e-questionnaire data (for example, my interview with Interview-Pete; Kester jokingly suggested Elvis for his own pseudonym before opting out of being anonymised, so we'll borrow that for now!).
• I retain, however, the participants' given name for quotations from his published works (this is Published-Pete, i.e. I reference him as Rollins and then the date of publication, e.g. 2006).
• The reader is thereby left with the mistaken impression that the view espoused by Elvis and Rollins 2006 is more prevalent than it actually is - as, in reality, they are the views of only one person, Pete Rollins.

I have rejected, therefore, the option of giving all of my participants pseudonyms. I am left then with the task of writing introductory narratives to those participants who wish to retain their anonymity that do not inadvertently reveal their identities. But I am also left with the dilemma of how to respect one participants' wish to be known by a pseudonym, whilst at the same time not giving readers the impression that the views he reveals both in my data and in his print and online publications are more prevalent within the UK emerging church milieu than they are. What to do?

Conference Paper taken out of the Blogosphere

I've decided not to post in too much detail about the "Truth and A/theistic Orthodoxy" paper I gave recently, as I'm concerned about putting my ideas out there when I hope to publish in academic journals and monograph form later this year / next year. So I've decided to delete the earlier posts I wrote in which I detailed what I argued. I hope readers understand.

I'm going to blog very briefly back at the original post (here) about what I argued and about the responses I got to the paper.

Please email me at k.moody1@lancaster.ac.uk if you would like to read the paper, and I'll happily send you a copy.

A New Kind of Christian is a New Kind of Atheist: Truth and A/theistic Orthodoxy in the Emerging Church Milieu - part two

This post has been deleted. I feel that it went into too much detail concerning what I argued in my recent conference paper, and therefore threatened the publication of the paper in journal or monograph form later this year / next year. I hope readers understand.

Back at the original post (here), I blog very briefly about what I argued and about the responses I got from other conference delegates.

Please feel free to email me at k.moody1@lancaster.ac.uk if you would like to read the paper in its entirety.

"Tag, You're It!" - an ethical dilemma?

I was tagged by fellow e-religion researcher Louise Connelly to reveal 8 things about myself. Then I get to tag 8 others. Then someone somewhere someday will follow this meme and say something interesting about it.


But this throws up interesting issues for a research blog like Open Source Research.


For example, Heidi Campbell was tagged by John La Grou on her research blog, When Religion Meets New Media, but chose to respond on her personal blog, Long Way From Auld Reekie, so as to keep her research and personal blogs separate. I don't have this option, as I don't have a personal blog and don't intend to start one - I'm wasting enough research time on Facebook!!!


I then thought I'd ignore it - but I worried that might be misinterpreted. I worry a lot!


So then I thought I'd play. I even went so far as drafting a post concerning 8 things about me. It was witty. It was quirky. It was everything a post like it should be - i.e. ultimately uninteresting to everyone save (perhaps) the unknown someone who might someday say something interesting (perhaps) about memes and the blogosphere.


But I'm not going to post it. It threw up several ethical issues which were unlikely to come up were I not exploring blogging as a research methodology! There might be parallels in more conventional research methods, but I haven't gone so far as to try and find them yet.


The problem arose when I started to think about who I could tag next. As this is a research blog, it's not read by my friends, and I don't have friends who blog, anyway. As I'm interested in blogging as both a research site and a research tool, I have a different relationship with the blogs which I do read. I went as far as hyperlinking to their blogs: bloggers in the emerging conversation between Christianity and contemporary culture, and researchers of blogging and media studies, etc. And then I realised that what I was doing constituted not only being a linkwhore, hoping that they would track my link and either a) participate in my research, or b) inform me of opportunities for conferences, journals, edited collections, etc; but was also quite manipulative and unethical.


I'm going to reflect more on this and other experiences of keeping a research blog in a chapter for the forthcoming Exploring Religion and the Sacred in a Media Age.