Malcolm prays, “You lost in Vietnam, didn’t you, Christ? Why do we say that we won?”21
Instead of a worldview of dualisms, Malcolm invites synthesis. As we measure Malcolm’s profound synthesis, we encounter the angst of havingto go beyond stereotype and routine. Mathematical teachers may assess the progress of their students by observing how well they reason-out a particular formula. In biology, a professor will see the results of a student’s lab. In spiritual disciplines, however, what results could ever satisfy the quest to know mutuality with the greatest of disparate identities, the creature and the Creator?
What do I mean by mutuality? Frederick Buechner helps me explain my meaning of mutuality through his definition of vocation as “the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.”22 The concept of vocation proposes a kind of mutuality in which teacher and student behaviors are congruent not only with words and ideas but also with commitments and practices. A spiritual teacher like Malcolm is one who readily admits the incongruence of words and ideas as a virtue and a form of deeper knowledge. In other words, the spiritual teacher sees the world differently by learning to see “what is not there.” By learning to see “what is not there,” we learn to see “what should be there.” For example, marginalized and minority identities have often not been there or, if they are, they are invisible.
As an African-American Christian theologian, I argue that how I continue to see “what is not there” is informed by my commitment to God’s communal image. From the perspective of God’s mutuality, I practice “what is not there” in many difficult places (for example, being the only black person in my school and church)—namely, my vocation of being African American and Christian. This leads me back to Buechner’s definition of vocation. Those who teach in a spiritual way have an opportunity to develop the world into “the place where your deep gladness feeds deep hunger.” By being mutual with Malcolm, I also facilitate the revelation of Buechner’s concept of vocation in my own complex persona. This revelation of vocation honors many others in their own complex journeys in which they innately know that mutuality can only be known through vulnerability. We cannot know mutuality through conflict and disorientation. We know mutuality by first knowing what it is not. Therefore, to teach the spiritual life well requires the ability to create mutuality in such a way that both teacher and student acknowledge the impossible task of knowing God outside of the miracle of mutuality.
How then do I understand myself as a spiritual teacher? One can synthesize an answer only through the mutual search for communal ways of knowing. In other words, my quest for the Spirit always leads me to diverse communities. Unfortunately, the normative course is intended for autonomous learning among individuals only or siloed communities (for example, white, black, gay, straight, poor, or middle-upper class). For example, many persons are often irritated with the question: how are we to design spiritual experiences inclusive of diverse communities?23 To answer this question demands a response to the assumption above in which Eurocentric educational design privileges the individual or competitive communities. Patricia Cranton illustrates this assumption:
I recently discussed the idea of being an authentic teacher with a seasoned science education professor—a man who was looking forward to retirement within the next year after thirty years of teaching practice. He was almost appalled at the notion of being oneself with students. “I don’t think I could go for that,” he said, startled by what he saw as my naiveté. “Who I am in the classroom and who I am outside of the classroom are two different people. Students don’t need to know me, they need to know how to teach science.” Perhaps my raising the topic provoked images of personal self-disclosure or an emotional sharing of feelings with students, things that had no place in his mind in science teaching, but more likely, he simply saw teaching as something he does rather than who he is.24
Malcolm invites us to embrace the cultivation of learning in community that does not delete difference. This is his profound contribution as a spiritual teacher. There is an emerging consensus that the repertoires of teaching strategies most effective and responsive in socially and culturally diverse settings can be the very same strategies that are identified as characteristic of teaching excellence for traditional students. For example, the creation of space conducive for learning remains an important strategy for multicultural courses. Jack Mezirow states, “The more reflective and open we are to the perspectives of others, the richer our imagination of alternative contexts for understanding will be.”25 Malcolm teaches me that I should be just as concerned about relational interaction and communication style as I am about the content. In fact, I do not see the two as separate. Students expect the instructor to identify with them as students and as individuals in a holistic way. I have become Malcolm’s student. The crucial question Malcolm helps me answer is: how can I participate in serving the world without making matters worse in the world, especially by patronizing those I encounter? When thinking about how better to serve, one should distinguish between charity work and community service. Charity work implies “detached beneficence”; whereas community service “conjures up images of doing good deeds in impoverished, disadvantaged (primarily Black and Brown) communities by those (mostly White students) who are wealthier and more privileged.” My role as spiritual leader, taught by Malcolm, is to challenge the perceptions of both community service and charity, replacing them with spiritual and human responsibility in a pluralistic but unequal society. By doing so, community service shifts from an individualistic experience into a social responsibility.
Malcolm prays, “Help me not to be dead while I am still alive, Lord.”26
In terms of further defining community service, one may go back to 1969 to the Southern Regional Education Board in Oak Ridge, Tennessee, who defined it as “the accomplishment of tasks that meet genuine human needs in combination with conscious educational growth.” Current theorists on service learning still seem to agree with this definition, although a problem remains.27 There have been many ways to describe community service. Although descriptions of service learning appear to be politically neutral, of course service learning, as multicultural education also demonstrates, is deeply political. All of this points toward ideological considerations behind any notion of service. What moves such programs beyond “charity” work is the intentional and critical focus of spiritual work.
This biography breaks new ground in walking out on the ledge of biography cum autobiography. It offers you a perspective on a significant life both through Malcolm’s own perspective and mine. Even more, Malcolm gives us his unadulterated voice in a way that is unavailable outside this biography. At some points, however, you may not like his voice. Similar to a voice crying in the wilderness, the secret-bearer disturbs us. As we will soon learn about Malcolm’s life, some will find his spiritual direction either blasphemous or divine. I pray this book will shed more light on the divine life of Malcolm Boyd—a life that should have much more public acclaim.
Dear Michael: I like your progress. The way you are so much a part of this. In a sense, then, our dialogue, our common/shared experience. Maybe the best way in the moment is for you to start each of the different chapters and see how they lead you. And, how each encompasses you as well as me.
Clearly, you need to flesh this stuff out (for example, see the trove I gave you of old papers, etc.) What may help most of all is the way EACH CHAPTER seems to grow and develop in its own way.
Most interesting, I think, will be the chapter on Celebrity. It is the cornerstone. Celebrity has changed the world. (Is it a virus?) You have the opportunity to explore the “Hollywood” side of this in my material, and how it deeply affected my life. Then, utterly ironically, how I “happened” to write a book that became not only a best-seller but a celebrity itself. Then, link this with you and Tutu (irony upon irony, if you will). So we’re in the midst of this. Where does it lead? What can we do about it?