Fred Glennon

Le Moyne College

The current interest in service learning in higher education has spilled over into the discipline of Religious Studies. Many faculty members are using service learning as a pedagogical tool. This concerns some professors who wonder whether or not service learning commits a course or department to a value laden agenda in its pedagogy. By incorporating service learning, does a Religious Studies professor or department run the risk of undermining an academic approach to the study of religion, with its emphasis on tolerance and neutrality (value laden terms themselves), by connecting students with committed practitioners who advocate particular religious perspectives and values?

The issue is more complex than this. What is also at stake is the understanding of the nature of religion and the discipline of Religious Studies. Is religion simply a phenomenon of human experience or does it seek change in society or in individuals? Is the study of religion an objective and descriptive discipline, and those who study it should approach it in a detached way? Or is the only way to study religion to become involved with it, to embrace it? If religion makes normative claims on its participants, can the responsible scholar avoid articulating and evaluating those claims?

In addition, this issue raises questions about the relationship between epistemology and pedagogy. Is experience valuable or not in learning about religion? How do we know what we know? Is it purely from objective disinterested observation? Or does engagement with the subject in some way critically affect our knowing? Does the answer to this question affect how we should teach the subject matter?

There are also questions about service learning. Even if one values experience in the educational process, it does not mean one would gravitate toward service learning. Why do people choose service learning, with all of the difficulties inherent in the word service? Is service learning simply a good way to help students learn the content of the course or is also about moving students outside of the narrow confines of self-interest toward a commitment to the common good? Why would a faculty member utilize service learning? It is a more time consuming pedagogical approach. Is the reason intrinsic--it is one of the best ways for students to learn? Is this intrinsic motivation sufficient?

This essay addresses these questions about the use of service learning in Religious Studies by analyzing what practitioners say on surveys I distributed to professors and departments in undergraduate programs across the country. What that analysis, and this essay, suggests is that service learning is not for everyone who teaches Religious Studies, especially not for those who take an objective or scientific approach to the discipline. Service learning can, however, be a valuable pedagogical tool for teachers and students of religion who want to engage religious phenomena experientially and who affirm higher education’s role in promoting commitment to the common good. Before getting to that analysis, however, the paper sets the stage by exploring debates within Religious Studies and among advocates of service learning about the approach each should take.

There is debate about the definition and nature of Religious Studies as an academic discipline, which has implications for the epistemology and pedagogy of those who study and teach it. The roots of the debate extend to the attempt by Religious Studies to differentiate itself from Theology and to establish its own identity within the university as a fixed field of study, along the lines of the humanities and the social sciences, yet distinct from them (see Hart, 1991, and Ogden, 1995). This desire to specify its own identity has created an identity crisis for Religious Studies, straddling the fence between interpreting data religiously (theology) and interpreting religious data (the human and social sciences) (Smith, 1988). At a time of institutional downsizing, this leaves Religious Studies vulnerable. By separating itself from other fields of studies, especially the Humanities, it has had a difficult time justifying its existence (Jushka, 1987).

To resolve this identity crisis, many in the field of religious studies have adopted the identity and epistemology of the scientist, and see religious studies as scientific, which Donald Wiebe defines as "the attempt only to understand and explain that activity rather than to be involved in it" (1998, 95). He suggests that the only way the academic study of religion can be taken seriously as a contributor to human knowledge is through accepting the objective stance of the dispassionate observer that is the norm for scientific knowledge at the university. Those who adopt this identity fear that any religious orientation on the part of the scholar (some use the terms "impassioned participant" or "confessional practitioner") could become a disguised form of indoctrination. The attempt will be made to persuade students and others of the truth of particular religious perspectives or values, making normative claims upon them. Wiebe argues that this could have disastrous results for the discipline and the university.

The only way to eliminate this risk is for scholars in Religious Studies not to invest themselves in the data, but to be neutral observers and to use their interpretive skills to reveal the truth about religious phenomena.

While agreeing with the concerns about indoctrination, many professors in Religious Studies find an objective, scientific approach epistemologically and pedagogically unsatisfactory. They contend that as a discipline Religious Studies is at its crudest when it "uses an ideology of academic neutrality which presumes a cool, objective approach to the phenomena of religions" (Ford, 1998, 5). The reason is that they see this approach as a misguided attempt by the scientist to distance the subject from the subjects, professors and students, in the name of objectivity and neutrality.

Parker Palmer has argued recently that there is an intricate connection between epistemology, pedagogy, and ethics. The relationship of the knower to the known becomes the basis for the relationship of the actor to the world. In the objective, scientific epistemology what is known is kept at arms-length and thus teachers and students are disconnected from what they know. Passion or subjectivity are seen as problematic not virtues. Why? Palmer writes, "When a thing ceases to be an object and becomes a vital, interactive part of our lives… it might get a grip on us, biasing us toward it, thus threatening the purity of our knowledge once again" (1988, 51). Clearly, Wiebe expresses this concern.

Such an approach, many contend, does not do justice to the religious phenomena in question. One of the claims in Religious Studies, especially introductory textbooks, is that religions provide people with a way of generating meaning and order in their lives (see Ring, 1998 for example). Religions enables individuals and communities to make sense of their experiences, thus they are a vital part of their lives. By treating religion as an object and not a subject, and by distancing the subject from the subjects looking at the phenomenon, the "scientific" approach to the study of religion does not fully grasp the essence of religions and their vitality.

Nor does the scientific approach do justice to the passion many students and teachers of religion have for knowing the subject. In our postmodern world, there are no neutral observers or universal audiences. What you believe and the audience you address shapes what you have to say (and even how you teach). Many teachers and students of religion seek to bring their previous knowledge and experiences with religion into dialogue with their study of religion. They have a different epistemological starting-point. Parker Palmer writes, "knowing of any sort is relational, animated by a desire to come into deeper community with what we know" (1998b, 54). Past knowledge and experiences may indeed become what Dewey called "miseducative;" they may arrest or distort future learning and experience (1997, 25). But they do not have to do so. They can also be fruitful starting points for understanding the subject of religion. The concern should not be to exclude these experiences, as the scientist seeks to do, but to enable them to emerge in the discussion of religion in a way that is inclusive, respectful, and leads to new insight and understanding.

Finally, the scientific approach may not only distort our relationship with what and how we know, Palmer contends that such an objective epistemology may even be morally deforming because it sets students at distance from what they know. As a result, we keep them from taking responsibility for it or from action in response to it (1988b). This runs counter to what many teaching Religious Studies intend. Warren Frisina argues that purpose of higher education is not only the expansion of knowledge, as Wiebe contends, but also "the enlargement of meaning which is the ultimate object of the educating act" (1997, 30). It is here that the Humanities in general, and Religious Studies in particular, can make significant contributions. Religious Studies is one of the places where teachers and students ask the questions: Who are we? What can we know? What shall we become? Our literatures, philosophies, and histories have always provided a critical moral and ethical edge and engendered transformative experiences for students. Thus, contra Wiebe, Frisina contends that what we do should contribute significantly "to the intellectual, moral, and yes (though not in the way it is usually understood), spiritual development of our students" and "directly to the overall health and well being of the community" (1997, 33). If we lose these contributions, it is difficult to see how we can continue to gain support from a skeptical public that questions the value of Religious Studies.

Making these contributions may require that we reject both the objective, scientific and the apologetic, indoctrinating approaches to the study of religion, as many teachers of religion have sought to do. They use various terms to discuss the alternatives they propose. Brian Malley suggests we need an "engaged Religious Studies" that pushes us to address real world problems faced by communities and contributes to deliberations of policy makers who have responsibility for resolving them (Malley, 1997). Stephen Webb seeks to redeem a "confessional" approach. This approach, he contends, understands and accepts the postmodern reality that one’s location affects what one teaches, rather than assuming a higher level of objectivity than is really there. It does not close out inquiry, as the scientist fears, but generates space within the classroom where persons can bring their own perspectives into the mix and subject them to public discourse and discussion. As a result, the discussions become more engaging and more honest, reflecting faculty and student concern for and interest in the existential questions religions seek to answer (1998). Peter Hodgson argues for a transformative pedagogy, one that forms both students and teachers of religion in ways that enable them "to live humanly in the world, and transforms them toward an end or vision of human flourishing" (1999, 69).

One may find other language to distinguish the approach to the study and teaching of religion from the scientific or indoctrinating approaches. But these approaches all tend to share a common perspective: religion can be understood and taught "as a live option," a phenomenon that has the potential to change lives (see Webb, 149). They seek to study and teach religion in a way that does not distance themselves from religious phenomena or religious experience out of fear that such encounters will taint or bias their knowledge and teaching of it. Rather, they embrace religious phenomena and experience and invite students to do the same conceding that all knowing is relational and, as is the case with all relationships, in knowing religion lies the possibility that we will "have encounters and exchanges that will inevitably alter us" (Palmer, 1998a, 54).

Similar concerns about how we know, academic rigor, advocacy, and indoctrination exist among advocates of service learning. Researchers of service learning suggest that some professors resist incorporating service or social values into their classrooms because they fear doing so would move education "from enlightenment to indoctrination" (Deve, 1990, 2), and get in the way of objectivity (Eyler and Giles, 1999, 131).

In response, there is a growing movement among some advocates to emphasize the academic aspect of service learning. They feel the only way for service learning to have academic credibility in higher education is to insure its connection with the classroom (hence the phrase, "academic service learning"). This is the argument Ed Zlotkowski makes when he suggests that service learning is not just about social commitment, but also about academic rigor, maintaining that service learning enhances academic effectiveness (1998, 82). Similarly, Jeffrey Howard stresses that academic service learning is a pedagogical model not a social responsibility model. Service learning is not an add-on experience to a course, but service functions as "a critical learning complement to the academic goals of the course" (Howard, 1998, 21-22). In this case, learning becomes a blend of experiences that happen inside and outside of the classroom. This mandates that the service be relevant to the academic course of study. This is significant because it suggests that some forms of community service make no sense for some courses (such as serving in a soup kitchen makes sense for a class on social issues but not for an engineering class).

Along this academic vein, Keith Morton makes a distinction between two types of service learning courses. Those courses designed to assist students in reflecting on and learning from the service in which they are already engaged he labels service-centered courses. Those that have discipline and content objectives that can be more effectively reached by the inclusion of service he calls content-centered courses (1996, 277-278). Service-centered courses are inductive and attempt to do what David Kolb suggests, "transform experience into knowledge" through reflection on the service (See Kolb, 1977). Morton suggests that the content-centered courses may include liberal education or values objectives, such as engaging students in a commitment to the common good, but they may not. Most frequently, he suggests, they include service because those who teach them think this is the best pedagogical approach to reach the learning objectives, "to enhance the knowledge and skills determined to be important within an academic discipline" (1996, 278).

Recent studies of service learning by Eyler and Giles support the conclusion that service learning that is highly reflective and where course and community service are well integrated meets the academic goals of enhancing student understanding of course content and improving student critical thinking skills (1999). They contend this is because service provides the opportunity for students to use and apply the information and knowledge from their courses in real world contexts, enabling them to gain a greater depth of understanding and improving their problem solving abilities.

Yet, while it is true that service learning is rightly seeking academic credibility as a pedagogical model, most advocates have a difficult time seeing it as a value-neutral pedagogy. At the very least, service learning is a pedagogical approach that intends to generate changes in the students who participate to move out of the narrow confines of self-interest and to see that they are citizens who must be committed to the good of others as well. This is what responsible citizenship entails.

Timothy Stanton and associates suggest that the earliest definition of service-learning came from publications of the Southern Regional Education Board (1969) in which they define it as "the accomplishment of tasks that meet genuine human needs in combination with conscious educational growth." The authors suggest that the SREB’s concern was "with developing learning opportunities for students that were related to community service, community development, and social change" (1999, 2). The early pioneers in service learning focused on the interrelationship between education, democracy, and service. Different pioneers attempted to answer one of three questions: What is the purpose of education in a democracy? How does education serve society? What is the relationship between service and social change? While some pioneers focused on social justice or democratic education, most concerned themselves with education’s service to society (1999, 20). Evident in all three concerns, however, is that the early advocates did not see service learning as value-neutral.

This same threefold focus can be seen in advocates today about the role of service in higher education. The academic goals and the values goals are not mutually exclusive, but complementary. Rhoads contends that service learning "addresses fundamental issues related to the role of higher learning in fostering socially responsible and caring citizens" (1998, 1). Zlotkowski affirms that the development of such values among students is a critical component of any service learning effort. It represents the "soul" or "spirit" of service learning (1998, 84-85). Postmodern views of higher education realize that values will be advocated in every classroom. The only question is which ones. Howard notes, "Service learning’s goal of advancing students’ sense of social responsibility or commitment to the broader good conflicts with the individualistic, self-orientation of the traditional classroom." He also notes that this goal of "advancing students’ commitment to the greater good" is also what distinguishes it from other forms of experiential learning (1998, 23-24).

A study by Eyler and Giles suggests that service learning is effective in promoting such values. One of the most consistent findings of service learning research is an increase in social responsibility among students. "Students are more likely to see themselves as connected to their community, to value service, to endorse systemic approaches to social problems, to believe that communities can solve their problems, and to have greater racial tolerance when involved in service learning" (1998, 66).

Others advocates of service learning in higher education emphasize its contribution to social welfare. Harkavy asserts that the fundamental purpose of knowledge is to improve human welfare and service learning does this quite well (1998, 11). Weigert has a similar view. Service learning both advances knowledge and helps "to remedy the deficiencies in our common life" (1998, 4).

For others, the goal of service learning is social change (or at least educating students to be agents of social change). Eyler and Giles note that many service learning practitioners favor such "transformational learning," education that pushes people to question the assumptions that underlie social arrangements and to see how such assumptions contribute to social problems (1999, 132). They claim that transformation in student perspectives about these social arrangements is critical to their awareness about the need for social action to address such problems. Mendel-Reyes agrees. She contends that service learning connects personal and political transformation. "Students transform themselves into citizens and their society into one that welcomes and promotes active citizenship" (1998, 34).

The issue of social change highlights the debate about what shape the service should take. Keith Morton says that some view service as a continuum from charity to project management to social change, with the latter being morally superior to the former (see his essay in this volume for a fuller definition of each). He suggests that we look at each form of service as a different paradigm, noting that they all emerge from a particular worldview and ethos. Each service paradigm can have legitimacy so long as it is done with integrity (Morton, 1995).

Others are not so sure. The concern with the charity approach is that such service is paternalistic and reinforces unjust social arrangements. Jane Kendall and Associates note, "A good service-learning program helps participants see their questions in the larger context of issues of social justice and social policy—rather than in the context of charity" (1990, 20). This is one feature of service learning that distinguishes it from just community service programs. The second feature is that service learning emphasizes reciprocity. "Reciprocity is the exchange of both giving and receiving between the ‘server’ and the person or group ‘being served’"(21-22). In this way, they avoid the paternalism inherent in many community service programs that emphasize charity.

While this debate will continue, clearly both positions have some normative claims and value commitments they make. Thus service learning, as a form of experiential learning, can rarely if ever be value neutral, because it shares the critique of higher education as an allegedly value-neutral enterprise. It has normative goals in its desire to educate students for citizenship and to commitment to the broader social good, education’s responsibility for the welfare of the community, and education’s role in promoting social change or producing students who are agents of social change.

In light of the discussions above, why would teachers of religion use service learning in the classroom? Is it an appropriate pedagogical tool for those interested in the science of religion, who seek to bracket out questions of values and norms in the interest of knowledge for knowledge sake? Can the "objectivist" use service learning for her own purposes, in spite of the expressed intention of service learning advocates? Or is service learning best employed by those who see religion as a phenomenon that has the potential to change lives? Or for those who want to use it to restore the critical ethical and moral edge Religious Studies has to offer to society and to encourage the moral development of students and the well being of society?

To get at answers to these questions, I conducted a survey among professors of religion who currently use service learning as a pedagogical tool in their classrooms. I sent out over 80 surveys to Religious Studies departments and colleagues at different colleges and universities across the country (see appendix for a copy of the survey). I included participants from the conference, "The Future of Service Learning in Religious Studies," and I included Religious Studies departments that were in institutions that had commitments to community service as a part of their institutional mission. (Unfortunately, in the latter instance, many departments responded that no members of their faculty utilized service learning as a pedagogical tool. I can only speculate as to the reasons for this.)

While I make no empirical claims about the validity of the survey process, I did attempt to be geographically and institutionally diverse. Out of the completed surveys I received, 20% came from the Southeast, 30% from the Northeast, 33% from the Midwest, and 17% from the West. In addition, I sent surveys to three types of institutions: private church-related, private not church-related, and public. Of those who completed the survey, 67% taught at church-related institutions, 23% taught in public universities, and 10% taught in private institutions. (The majority of the departments who responded that they did not use service learning came from the latter two categories.)

I discovered many things from the surveys. First, my colleagues in Religious Studies use service learning in a wide range of classes. On the survey I included Biblical Studies, Theology, Introduction to Religion, Ethics, World Religions, and Ritual Studies. But the respondents also use service learning in classes on Peace and Justice, Women’s Studies, Peacemaking, Religion and Ecology, Religion and Conflict, Religion in America, African-American Religion, Death and Dying, the Holocaust, and Religion and Public Life.

Second, I learned about the range of service opportunities provided in the classes. Following Keith Morton, I classified the service into three categories: direct service, project, and advocacy (1998). Ninety-three (93%) percent of respondents connect students with direct service, including opportunities in tutoring, mentoring, soup kitchens, day care, home building/rehab, nursing homes, and hospitals. Sixty-eight (68%) percent involve students in projects, including community surveys/assessments, interviews, community organizing, and the like. Fifty-four (54%) percent of respondents engage students in advocacy on political or social issues of one kind or another.

The most important lessons from the survey, for the purposes of this paper, relate to the objectives professors had for using service learning. I listed six objectives on the survey. The first two--increase student understanding/knowledge and enhance student critical thinking--I labeled as educational goals and saw them as "value-neutral." They were more in keeping with the academic service learning goals noted in the previous section. The last four objectives--change student values, change student perspectives on social issues, encourage citizenship, and promote social change--I consider to be normative. They include some value commitments on the part of the professor (about the course content or the purpose of higher education) or sought to promote some value change in students or their perspective on social issues. (I also provided opportunity for respondents to note other objectives and to make comments, which I will discuss below.)

The results indicate that professors who use service learning in the Religious Studies classroom clearly have educational goals in mind (93% of respondents sought to enhance student understanding/knowledge, 72% wanted to improve critical thinking). But this is only half of the story. Most colleagues who use service learning also have normative goals. They want to promote change in student values (55%) or student perspectives on social issues (72%), to encourage citizenship (66%), and/or to promote social change (62%).

Why are these results significant? They suggest that professors in Religious Studies use service learning as more than simply a way to get students to increase their knowledge or enhance their critical thinking skills, although it certainly does both. In addition, Religious Studies’ professors find in this pedagogy a way to engage students more fully with the subject and subjects of religion, and to connect their knowledge and their actions with critical social issues in society. To flesh out the normative goals they have for using service learning, let me analyze some of the comments they make on the survey.

Some professors who use service learning concur with Frisina’s argument that the study of religion provides a critical moral edge for students to assess themselves, cultural values, and social structures (see above). Many comments by respondents echoed the notion that service leads students to "critical self-assessment of personal and social presuppositions." Service learning is a way to "clarify student values" if not to change them, and to "challenge stereotypes" students hold, even if it is not always successful. Service learning in religious studies enables professors to challenge the individualistic mindset of contemporary society by showing that "religion is communal." It is an avenue for "consciousness raising about diversity." Moreover, respondents note that by connecting the religious text with current social issues, service learning enables teachers and students "to critique societal points of view and structures."

The respondents also express their belief that higher education is about more than the generation and transmission of knowledge. It also includes concern for the moral and spiritual development of students and their role in contributing to the common good. Some respondents chose service learning as a vehicle for enabling their students to live a life of integrity, where their beliefs and their actions find coherence and wholeness. One professor, who uses service learning in Bible and Theology classes, desires to help students make the "connection between Christian values, to be hearers and doers." Another encourages students "to integrate theological concepts with life." One professor says she wants students to "appreciate the connection between religious beliefs and social action." This occurs best, another writes, by connecting students with "committed practitioners" as service learning does. This pedagogy not only transforms the students, it also pushes those who teach it toward a relational epistemology. Says one respondent, "Service learning transforms the study of religion, allowing the word and the text to be intimately related to the deed."

The focus of such action is for others and for the common good. Parker Palmer suggests that we must honor a vital need of our students in our teaching: "to be introduced to a world larger than their own experiences and egos, a world that expands their personal boundaries and enlarges their sense of community" (1998, 120). Through the use of service learning, respondents seek to "encourage reflection on social responsibility," "encourage doing for others," and "motivate civic engagement." The "hands-on practical experience" service provides can "changes students’ lives by…strengthening identity and community involvement." The power of service learning can be seen in its ability to "increase student confidence to be actively involved," while it also enhances their understanding and practice of "reciprocity." Such civic engagement is as crucial for poor and working class students as it is for those students who are financially better off: "it is critical to them to also see themselves as responsible for the ethical and spiritual health of their communities." The hope for many is that "changing values will lead to social change."

Some might assume that the type of institutional location would have a significant impact on the objectives professors have for service learning. The normative objectives may be more important for church-related institutions, but less so for public and private schools. But according to my limited survey, this is not the case. In public universities, eight-three percent (83%) of respondents seek some normative goals, eighty-five percent (85%) in church-related institutions, and 100% in private institutions. (Of course, Charles Strain’s argument, that mission statements are key to promoting the use of service learning by the faculty, may still be true. My quick review of the mission statements of the schools in which the respondents teach indicates that service to the community is an important component of institutional mission.)

For most of the respondents, the purpose for their use of service is clearly more than educational. They incorporate service, however well or poorly, as a means to get students to live an integrated life. There is a normative element built into the very purpose of incorporating service. The particular values may not be spelled out clearly, but they want students to address the ethical issues associated with their service and to respond in appropriate ways to the challenges and issues they discover. Moreover, they are suggesting that this pedagogical approach, this experiential way of knowing, is critical for learning and for the outcomes they seek to engender. I think they are also suggesting that this experiential way of exploring religion is essential to understanding the essence of religion. In the words of one respondent, "religion is a natural discipline for service learning."

Even for those few respondents who felt that the purpose of the service is solely educational and not normative, to provide an experiential base from which to learn content objectives, I suspect there is some normative agenda. Otherwise, incorporating service makes little sense. The term "service" is so value-laden for many people that its mere use calls it into question. (One person who does not use service learning in her courses asked if it was possible to do service learning without being inherently paternalistic.) Why not call it "experiential learning," which is a more inclusive pedagogy and does not seem to have the same negative connotations? Perhaps it is because even advocates of experiential learning understand the impact of experience on all involved. David Kolb suggests that experience has two meanings, one subjective and personal, the other objective and environmental. These two forms of experience interrelate and interpenetrate each other. Once they become related, they both are "essentially changed" (1977, 36). So while many practitioners may not intend to change either the student or the environment, they know it is inevitable. (Of course, as one respondent noted, service learning is a risky business. The change that occurs may not always be what we would like to see, but it should not keep us from helping students to see all the issues involved.)

Aside from the epistemological and pedagogical issues, objective and individualistic versus experiential and relational, there are also the institutional questions. A final component of the survey was to have respondents assess what contributes to the success or failure of service learning in their courses. They all agree that success depended upon integrating well service and the classroom. This meant that the service should be related to the course objectives, readings and discussions; and the students should engage in high quality reflection on the theoretical implications of their service. Equally important, however, is support from the community and the institution. Almost all respondents agree that good, quality placements are essential to the success of service learning. They also indicated that having departmental and institutional support made their job so much easier. Some respondents noted that having directors of service learning or community service on the campus whose role it was to secure placements and to work with the community organizations was key to success. Others suggested that having previous participants in a service learning course as tutors/mentors was crucial. These mentors were funded by the institution. The point I want to make here is that even if one is receptive epistemologically and pedagogically to service learning (the will), one needs support from one’s colleagues, one’s institution, and one’s community for it to be successful (the way). (This corresponds well with Charles Strain’s essay on institutional mission and its importance in promoting this pedagogy.)

Should professors in Religious Studies use the pedagogy of service learning? Parker Palmer contends that the choice of pedagogical technique should flow from the identity and integrity of the teacher. His point is that teachers do not simply teach what they know, but who they are. To teach well the teacher should have some sense of who she is and of the nature of her discipline and that technique should flow from that sense of identity, from the "heart" of the teacher (1998, 23-25). Another way he frames this issue is that there should be coherence between our epistemology and our pedagogy (and our ethics). If as a teacher of religion you feel that a scientific approach to Religious Studies is the only valid approach, and that the purpose of higher education is fundamentally to generate and transmit knowledge, it is difficult to see how you would use service learning. As a pedagogical tool, service learning does not simply aid the intellectual development of students; it also contributes to their moral development and to the well being of the community. Moreover, it is a form of experiential education, suggesting that experience is critical in the educational process, something that many, that adopt an objective epistemology, distrust.

If your approach to the study of religion is relational, and you think that experience can contribute significantly to that study; and if you believe that higher education has normative as well as intellectual goals, then service learning may be an appropriate pedagogy (although not the only one). According to the surveys I conducted, service learning has provided a means for teachers of religion to engage religious phenomena and critical social issues, to enable students to connect their learning with their world. Such engagement requires an experiential approach to the discipline, not only for the teacher, but also for the student. In this way, the subject of religion once again becomes a "live option," a phenomenon that has the potential to change lives. Thus, service learning enables those who share this view of religion to teach with integrity by connecting what they teach with how they teach