On majoring in English

One of the occupational hazards of pursuing a liberal arts degree is mastering the PR work necessary to defend such an un-lucrative life choice. Fortunately, I thought ahead and decided to get two useless majors. That way, they can be buddies and entertain each other while I find an acceptable job. Or wait, isn't that what grad school is for?

Ah, but I jest. I mean, not the job-hunting part....that is all too painfully true. It's the charge that liberal arts degrees are useless that gets me a little unsettled. I could turn this post into a (classical) apology for my degree choices, pulling out all the arguments that I've been hoarding. These have been accumulating each time a misguided (please pray for them) friend makes the mistake of dismissing the liberal arts. I try to maintain an outwardly sanctified demeanor, but a battle wages inside my head: "BEWARE THE DAY I SMITE YOUR GAUCHE COMMENTS WITH MY MAJESTIC BLOG POSTS!!!" Ok, too much Beowulf lately.

Anyways, all of those reasons for my degree are valid and meaningful and good, and I wouldn't have needed to even be doing an English major to produce them. What I'm more interested in talking about right now is the consequence I didn't anticipate.

Of all the providences I have experienced thus far in my life, one of the most spiritually-beneficial has been my training in English Literature. It has completely transformed the way I read the Bible.

It's taught me the art of close-reading. You don't take a single word of a sonnet for granted. Learning this has trained my eye to dissect passages of Scripture that I would have passed over before, all because of one word that stood out from the rest.

It's taught me to view all the parts of a text as an interconnected whole. Oftentimes, authors utilize particular words and metaphors to tie specific passages of their novel/play/poem together. In hunting for these in literature, I've learned to trace these same word-trails throughout Scripture. The principle of reading syntopically has trained me to follow a theme outside of the specific Bible book I encountered it in. Because, usually, it's there in all of the other books as well.

It's taught me how important context, both textual and historical, is to truly understanding a text. The argument and intent of the original author is more important than our personal agendas.

It's awakened me to the artistry of the Bible. In learning to spot foreshadowing in Shakespeare, I've been trained to discover it in the prophets. Understanding typology has awoken me to how intricate a picture Isaac was of Christ.  Reading and relating to the deeply personal work of Herbert or Donne has drawn me to the equally-exquisite poetry of the Psalms. The longing of the metaphysical poets for union with God makes me more conscious of the longing the prophets felt for reconciliation for Israel.

I could go on, but these are some of the most obvious examples. Before I was trained to inquisitively read literature, I had always approached the Bible complacently. I read; I didn't analyze. I think a lot of church kids tend to wear "Bible goggles" when we read Scripture - because we're told that it's the inspired word of God, we take what we are reading for granted. We don't give it much thought, because we're reading it at face value.

My English courses have changed me. What used to be mind-numbing work has become instinctual. This spiritual connection made a lot more sense after my time in Cambridge. Being in a seminary environment, I realized that the tools I was given in my English classes were the same as those taught in divinity studies. Whether it's Greek or Hebrew or English, we're all learning to critically analyze texts.

Liberal Arts = not that useless. Study literature, kids.