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Perhaps one criticism I would hold is that, while this work looks at women's experience, it still seems to remain very Euro-centric. I am reminded of the arguments of black women against feminist theological processes, which led to the development of womanist theological discourse.
Recently I received an email from a friend with a link to an on-line quiz, which was attempting in a Turing-machine sort of way to be able to determine one's gender from the answers given to a set of questions. As I was taking the test, I thought about it in the context of women's ways of knowing and learning, and realised that this test was very objective, non-connected, largely non-feeling, and very masculine in approach. Certainly this test did not have the kind of objectivity called for in the text. 'Objectivity in connected teaching, as in connected knowing, means seeing the other, the student, in the student's own terms.' (p. 224) This test was seeing everyone in terms of a standard model, a model derived from male-dominant considerations.
For the sake of liturgy and learning, which is my particular field of study, and the purpose behind reading this book, the kinds of issues raised here are important. The authors begin with the idea of silence. This is not a silence like monastic silence or the silence between prayers, hymns and readings, but rather a silence of voices from the shaping and practice of the community. Too often liturgy is viewed, by laity and clergy, as something handed to them from 'authority' with little or no room for adaptation or adjustment to context. When liturgical practice becomes this rigid or this 'unlistening', it can cease to have any many or validity for the community of worshippers.
The authors also develop ideas of received, subjective and procedural knowledge, all of which can be used in liturgical practice. There can be, particularly in my prayer-book-heavy tradition, a tendency to emphasise received knowledge and some aspects of procedural knowledge, while confining other types of knowledge to secondary or tertiary roles in the liturgy. Dialogue sermons and opening up the participation to others can enhance the service, broadening it to other forms of learning styles.
Applying the principles of connected teaching to liturgy can have important results. 'Connected teachers try to discern the truth inside the students.' (p. 223) Perhaps this same kind of constructed style of shaping the liturgy to be more inclusive, more sensitive to the voices of the members of the community while still paying respect to the overall shape and intention of the community, can lead to greater connectivity of the community amongst itself, and of the community members to the experience of the liturgy.
Overall, this book can yield insights into many types of practices, learning, and knowledge. While it does not constitute the final word on intelligence by any means, it is a valuable conversation partner.
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