Rethinking Teaching: Lessons from Super Courses

In this article, I reflect on two courses I taught during the 2024–2025 academic year through the lens of Ken Bain’s 2021 book, Super Courses: The Future of Teaching and Learning. Drawing from Bain’s insights, I also outline concrete steps to enhance my teaching in the coming year.

Discussing this topic presents a challenge. Critiquing certain methods risks offending colleagues who rely on them, and it is often easier to adopt a relativistic stance—what works for me may not work for you. Yet, meaningful progress in pedagogy requires honest reflection and a willingness to question established practices—starting with my own.

“The humanities are not just dying—they are almost dead. . . . What is fascinating and perverse about the current situation is that what was once peripheral to the university — engineering and technology — is now at its center, and what was once its center has been reduced to the margins and forced to make a case for its continued existence." As a scholar in the humanities, I see it as my responsibility to reflect on how I can strengthen my teaching—addressing its shortcomings while embracing innovative, effective methods.

This article is structured into three main sections. First, I outline my approach for the 2024–2025 academic year. Next, I examine the principles presented in Bain’s 2021 book. Finally, I detail the concrete steps I plan to take to enhance my teaching next year.

My Approach

During the 2024–2025 academic year, I taught the New Testament portion of The Mystery of the One and Triune God I (baccalaureate level) and a full course on The Trinity and Creation in Aquinas (licentiate level). The syllabi I designed for these courses reflect a consistent methodology that guides my teaching across different academic levels.

Global Classrooms

Both my baccalaureate and licentiate classes reflect a remarkable degree of cultural diversity, each in its own way. These classrooms serve as microcosms of the global academic landscape, bringing together students from a wide range of national, linguistic, and cultural backgrounds.

My baccalaureate class consists of 63 students representing 29 nationalities across five continents. Europe has the strongest presence, with 26 students from Germany, France, Spain, Portugal, Italy, and Poland. Africa follows closely, with 15 students from 10 different countries, including Tanzania, Cameroon, the Democratic Republic of the Congo, South Africa, Burundi, Ghana, Angola, Nigeria, Kenya, and Madagascar. Asia, while smaller in representation, contributes six students from the Philippines, China, and India. The Americas add 13 students from nine different nations, including Guatemala, Honduras, Uruguay, Haiti, Mexico, Nicaragua, Chile, Colombia, and the United States. Oceania, while the least represented, is present through three students from Australia. This diversity fosters a dynamic academic environment, where a wide array of perspectives enriches classroom discussions and broadens intellectual horizons.

The licentiate class, though smaller in size, remains equally global in composition. With 25 students representing 14 nationalities from five continents, it mirrors the baccalaureate class but on a more focused scale. Europe continues to have a strong presence, led by Italy with five students, alongside others from Spain, France, Poland, and Greece. Africa remains a key part of the cohort, with students from Nigeria, Uganda, Angola, Madagascar, and Tanzania. Asia, while less represented, brings perspectives from India, Vietnam, and the Philippines. The Americas contribute students from Brazil, Chile, Mexico, Peru, and the United States, ensuring a balance between North and South America. Unlike the baccalaureate class, the licentiate class has no students from Oceania. Nevertheless, the richness of backgrounds leads to vibrant intellectual exchanges, with European and African students forming the largest groups while Asian and American perspectives add further depth.

Despite the difference in class size, both groups exemplify the benefits of a global academic community. At the same time, this diversity brings its own set of challenges—navigating linguistic differences, reconciling varying conceptual frameworks, and bridging distinct academic methodologies.

My Principles

Rethinking Classroom Presence

I begin both of my courses with a question that cuts across disciplines: Why do you physically come to class? With that question hanging in the air, I invite my students to reflect on how the modern university system has reduced attendance to a mere formality—something to be checked off en route to passing the course.

Once their presence is recorded, only a handful of students remain fully engaged. Many of those who stay occupy themselves with what we might call noble distractions: working on assignments for other courses, drafting soon-to-be-due papers, or responding to urgent emails. These students believe their time is better spent elsewhere, even while physically remaining in class. Others engage in ignoble distractions, such as watching movies, scrolling through social media, or dozing off—behaviors that disrupt their peers and drain the instructor’s energy. And then there are those who leave immediately after roll call, having accomplished their primary objective: saying present when their name is called.

How did we get here? What led to the enthronement of attendance as an end in itself? The culprit, I argue, is boredom. Students are bored in class. And that boredom stems from one of three factors.

The subject matter itself may seem dull.
The instructor may be uninspiring—perhaps reading aloud from a script as though students were illiterate, or spending the entire session summarizing assigned readings, which students are perfectly capable of doing on their own. With this teaching approach in place, what does classroom presence actually add to the learning experience—something students couldn’t just as easily accomplish at home or in the library? Why navigate the chaos of Roman traffic just to reach a university classroom, only to engage in tasks that could be done more conveniently elsewhere?
Students themselves may be increasingly unwilling to put in the effort required to engage with complex and unfamiliar ideas.

At this point, I challenge my students to see class differently—not as an obligation, but as an opportunity. A university class should be an intellectual encounter, a space for thinking, discussing, and learning together. This perspective revives the original vision of the university as a universitas magistrorum et scholarium—a community of teachers and students united in the pursuit of knowledge.

Grading Criteria

Like many traditional courses, mine begin with a written syllabus outlining the course objectives a priori. I apply a consistent assessment framework across both courses, guided by the following principles:

A student’s final grade should not hinge on a single factor (e.g., an all-decisive final exam). The final exam is not meant to determine a student’s fate but rather to serve as an opportunity to gain a comprehensive understanding of the course by reviewing all materials covered.
1. There should be no surprises on exam day. To eliminate uncertainty, I provide my students with a list of study questions well in advance, from which five will be randomly selected by a number generator app. This removes any perception of arbitrariness or unfairness—if a student fails, it is due to lack of preparation, not because I deliberately set out to trick them with obscure, convoluted questions.
2. Students are required to answer the five exam questions within a strict limit of two sides of a single A4 sheet. This policy serves two key purposes. First, it forces students to distill their responses down to the core of each question. Second, it streamlines the grading process—correcting exams is a tedious task, and like most instructors, I prefer to get through it as efficiently as possible.
A final grade should recognize students who engage with the material consistently throughout the semester—not those who cram everything into a single all-nighter before the final exam. The value I place on continuous learning, and the long-term retention it fosters, is reflected in the structure of my courses. Each class session begins with a brief quiz, testing students on material covered the previous week (see a sample quiz here). These quizzes are intentionally simple: just three multiple-choice questions. I use the Single Best Answer (SBA) format, a method common in medical and legal exams, where multiple choices may be correct, but one is the most precise or appropriate. This approach keeps anxiety levels in check while still distinguishing between those who have a deep, comprehensive grasp of the material and those with only a partial understanding.
A fair grading system ensures that students who engage with the full breadth of the course material are recognized for their efforts. It should not be possible for a student who has studied only one narrow portion of the subject to earn the same grade as someone who has mastered the entire course simply because of a lucky break on the final exam.
In both courses, I award an additional three bonus points. This means that a student who earns every possible point would receive a total score of 103, which would be recorded as a perfect 100 on their transcript.

Classroom

Each of my classes is structured as a lecture, but not in the traditional, one-way sense. My goal is to foster meaningful interaction with students, making the classroom a space for active engagement rather than passive reception. I follow these guiding principles.

I begin every course with two key activities designed to establish a sense of community and intellectual curiosity:
1. Introductions with a Twist – Each student introduces himself, sharing his name, his favorite thinker (few, to my surprise, name Thomas Aquinas), and the reason he chose to take the course.
2. A Deeper Question – Instead of diving straight into the syllabus, I start with a more fundamental inquiry: Why do you physically come to class? (as discussed earlier).
At the start of every class, I outline the day’s topic and the key points we will cover.
I never take roll, deliberately pushing back against the subtle yet pervasive assumption that class attendance is merely a box to check. My goal is to foster genuine engagement rather than passive presence. That said, I am fully aware of who shows up and who doesn’t—regular quizzes in every session provide me with a clear picture.
By the second week of the semester, I have memorized every student’s name, allowing me to interact directly with each of them at any moment. Personal connection is essential to my teaching, and it extends beyond the classroom. For instance, I organized a visit to the Vatican Apostolic Library, where a group of students and I attended an exhibition featuring manuscripts of Aquinas and Bonaventure. Seeing Aquinas’s autographs firsthand spoke more powerfully than any lecture I could give.
I engage with primary sources, but I do not read my lectures from a written text.
I never sit while lecturing. From personal experience, I know I am less engaged as a listener when the instructor remains seated—so I teach the way I would want to be taught.
I write on the whiteboard as needed, ensuring that my pace aligns with the students’ note-taking and comprehension.
I do not use slide decks. While slides can be effective in certain disciplines, I find they often do more harm than good in speculative theology. For me, they are an invitation to rush through material rather than engage with it.

This last point is not just my personal preference. One of my students, who earned summa cum laude in my course, confirmed my instinct, noting that slides tend to benefit the instructor more than the students. He even suggested that relying on slides can signal a lack of mastery of the subject. Another top student admitted that slides created a subtle negative bias toward the instructor. While these views are certainly debatable, they highlight an important reality: perception matters in education, as in any form of human communication. How can students truly listen to us if we do not first earn their trust?

That’s what I bring to the table as an instructor—but what about my students? I expect active participation, which takes two key forms.

Preparing Before Class

The first form of participation happens before students even step into the classroom. They are required to complete the assigned readings in advance. In the syllabus, I encourage them to approach these readings thoughtfully—dedicating time to a careful, reflective reading of the texts, consulting commentaries when needed, formulating critical questions, and responding to the study questions I provide.

Engaging in Class Discussions

The second form of participation involves active listening and contributing to discussions. To ensure that everyone engages, I adopted the “cold calling” method used by Harvard Law professor Larry Schwartztol. Before each class, I generate a randomized list of students and call on them at different points during the session to share their thoughts on specific issues. This method not only keeps discussions dynamic but also reinforces the expectation that students come prepared.

To balance structure with flexibility, I also borrowed Schwartztol’s “free pass” system. Each student receives two passes per semester, allowing them to decline a cold call—no questions asked. If a student anticipates being unprepared, feels unwell, or expects to miss class, they must submit their name to a Google Form (the No-Call List) by 9:00 PM the night before. Any other absence, tardiness, or lack of preparation is considered unexcused and affects their participation grade.

That said, my goal is to encourage engagement, not to penalize students. Unless someone consistently demonstrates a lack of preparation (which happened in fewer than five cases in my baccalaureate course and not at all in my licentiate course), I award full participation points. The purpose of cold calling is not to catch students off guard but to foster a culture of intellectual readiness.

No-Screen Policy

In both of my courses, I implemented a no-screen policy, which I made explicit in the syllabi:

The use of electronic devices—including laptops, mobile phones, tablets, and recording devices—is not permitted in the classroom, except in cases where a documented disability requires accommodation, subject to the instructor’s approval.

Students are encouraged to engage in a reflective, immersive learning experience, following the example of great thinkers such as Aristotle and Thomas Aquinas—that is, without the use of electronic screens. The issue is not the devices themselves but the distractions they create when used for unrelated activities. Studies show that multitasking with phones or laptops during class results in lower-quality note-taking, reduced retention of information, and poorer test performance. Even students themselves acknowledge that multitasking diminishes their ability to concentrate. Moreover, the presence of screens can be distracting not only for the user but also for those seated nearby.

I appreciate students’ cooperation in maintaining a focused learning environment. After all, it’s just 90 minutes without screens! Many prestigious universities, including Harvard, and numerous Catholic institutions, such as the University of St. Thomas, implement similar policies to encourage deeper engagement. To learn more, visit bokcenter.harvard.edu, kappanonline.org, and greatergood.berkeley.edu.

By framing the policy in this way, I aimed to shift the focus away from prohibition and toward the benefits of an undistracted intellectual environment. The goal was not to restrict students but to help them cultivate habits of deep attention—an increasingly rare skill in today’s world.

Self-Evaluation

Before diving into my students’ evaluations of my courses, I want to start with a self-assessment, focusing on my policies on reading assignments and screen use. How did these methods play out? What worked well, and what could be improved? This is my opportunity to give an honest and thorough response to colleagues who have asked how effective my approaches have been.

Reading Assignments

Did my students truly engage with the assigned readings? Some did more than others.

In my baccalaureate course, where the readings were more straightforward (see a sample reading assignment), it was relatively easy to gauge whether a student had actually done the assigned work. But in several instances, I encountered students who couldn’t answer even the simplest questions about the readings. Why?

One possibility is that they hadn’t read the material at all. However, if that were the case, they should have taken advantage of the No-Call List—a system that functioned well in my courses and that students knew how to use.

Another possibility is that the readings were too difficult to grasp. This challenge could stem from two main factors: linguistic barriers (since some texts were in Italian) or conceptual complexity (if the material was too abstract or required prior knowledge the student lacked).

The issue of conceptual difficulty was particularly evident in my licentiate course, where we tackled Thomas Aquinas (see a sample reading assignment). The disparity in students’ metaphysical background created a significant challenge. Some were well-prepared, while others lacked the foundational knowledge necessary to engage with Aquinas’ dense, medieval prose. At times, the task felt as daunting as Sisyphus’ endless labor in the underworld.

No-Screen Policy

Did my no-screen policy achieve its goal? To a certain extent.

My no-screen policy was more effective in my licentiate course than in my baccalaureate one. In the licentiate course, one student sent me a thoughtful email after the first class, respectfully explaining why he disagreed with the policy given his personal circumstances—one of which was the illegibility of his handwriting. I granted him an exemption, but with one condition: I asked for his permission to announce the exemption publicly in class so that no one would wonder why he was allowed to use a laptop while others were not.

As the semester progressed, however, I noticed a gradual shift—a creeping return to screens. A few students began using devices without requesting permission. This drift happened earlier and more noticeably in my baccalaureate course. While it irritated me, I had no real way to curb it. I had set the rule but hadn’t attached a consequence for violating it, which meant I had little leverage to enforce it.

My only real tool was catching students off guard—cold-calling someone who seemed particularly distracted by a device. This approach had some effect, but its impact was limited. It underscored an important lesson: rules without enforcement mechanisms are fragile at best.

Student Evaluations

Now it’s time for my students to have their say—and for me to set aside any temptation to protect my ego. What did they think of my courses?

First, a quick note on the evaluation system used by my university. Students respond to ten questions, rating each on a scale from one to five:

Is the workload proportionate to the assigned credits?
Is the provided or recommended course material adequate for studying the subject?
Were the exam modalities clearly defined?
Were the scheduled class times respected?
Does the instructor present the topics clearly?
Does the instructor stimulate and motivate interest in the subject?
Is the instructor available for clarifications and explanations?
Are the classroom and available equipment adequate?
Are you interested in the topics covered in the course?
Are you overall satisfied with the course?

As anyone familiar with Bain’s 2021 book can quickly point out, none of these questions directly assesses how much students have actually learned. Fortunately, beyond these relatively constrained quantitative responses, a subset of students—18 out of 63 in my baccalaureate course and 8 out of 25 in my licentiate course—left anonymous written comments. These are the real gold. Some are encouraging, others are humbling, but all serve as catalysts for improvement.

I will present all these comments here, categorizing them without omitting any.

Baccalaureate Students

General Feedback

“I really liked Professor Kenny Ang’s way of teaching. He should keep it up.”
“Yes, the course was very interesting. I hope the professor continues this way.”
“The course was very enjoyable.”
“Everything is going well.”

Teaching Methods

“There needs to be greater consistency between the two lecturers. The first and second parts of the course felt like two separate courses, and too much time was spent explaining course expectations rather than learning about the Trinity.”
“My suggestion would be to review concepts more frequently or spend more time on them, especially in the first part. If possible, the material should be presented in a more unified manner, particularly in the second part. Everything eventually became clear, and perhaps it is just a matter of getting used to a certain teaching style, but at the beginning, I felt like I was receiving scattered pieces of information—all relevant, but without understanding why we were following a particular path or what questions were driving the discussion. However, over time, the overall framework did emerge.”
“The approach of working directly with biblical sources and the clear exposition of the topics was very good.”
“Thank you very much for the course with its profound content. It was very well organized with attendance and testing, but perhaps it was slightly excessive and overly complex.”
“Very engaging course. Our participation was strongly encouraged, and the class was very lively. Weekly tests and simplified teaching made the material easy to understand. Thank you all!”
“Professor Kenny Ang has a different style in class—we were not allowed to use phones or laptops, only pen and paper. Also, class participation carried more weight than quizzes and the exam. During class, he would draw random names of students to answer his questions (which he had provided in advance). I appreciated this new method because it kept us engaged and focused on the material, though it was always nerve-wracking to be called on.”
“Very interesting and well-taught, but I think the ‘cold-calling’ method does not work, especially in the first semester when most students are still learning Italian. Participation should be voluntary.”
“Active student participation is very positive, but it could remain voluntary.”

No-Screen Policy

“From my perspective, and also from what I have gathered from some colleagues (though not all), the inability to use electronic devices presents significant difficulties. Regarding the professor’s reasoning that screens can be distracting, this is true—but only if one is multitasking, not because of the device itself. From my personal experience, having a sort of ‘infinite canvas’ helps me organize and reorganize information more freely. I also think that those who study at night with the sound of keyboard typing might benefit from this. That being said, both professors are highly competent.”

Workload and Assessments

“Everything went very well in both parts of the course. However, I would like to make an observation regarding the second part, taught by Professor Kenny: to maintain consistent study throughout the semester, I believe that class participation through random calling is sufficient.”
“The method of having small weekly exams was beneficial for us. The explanations were clear.”
“Having a quiz for each topic seems to help us gradually assimilate the concepts. I liked the exam format.”
“Professor Kenny Ang’s classes required an excessive amount of weekly homework. Additionally, I find it inappropriate to assess course participation, administer weekly exams, and also have a final exam.”
“I think having a quiz every lesson in addition to a final test is a bit too much.”
“I would suggest introducing an oral exam during the semester.”

Licentiate Students

General Feedback

“Fantastic professor! Thanks for the lessons he gave!”
“Very interesting, and I recommend it to all students, especially for intellectual formation. From my perspective, the class is outstanding. One is engaged from the first minute to the last.”
“The professor was courteous, well-prepared, and enthusiastic about the subject. He challenged students to grow, and I appreciated this. Overall, I am personally satisfied with the course.”

Teaching Methods

“The course topics had already been largely covered in the undergraduate course on the Trinity and Creation. However, it was interesting to engage directly with the texts of St. Thomas. The professor is open to questioning (of St. Thomas) and discussion.”
“The selection of Thomas’s texts was well suited to me. My prior knowledge of Thomas was very limited, so the professor’s reference to a dictionary was extremely helpful. A suggestion, therefore, for students like me would be to include a dictionary of Thomas in the course bibliography, since his language differs significantly from the usual meaning of words, and students might need additional support.”
“I think the subject matter is very important and necessary. It would be helpful if the teaching of St. Thomas were presented more clearly as a holistic vision, because analyzing all the points separately does not provide sufficient clarity.”

No-Screen Policy

“I would prefer to have the option to choose my own note-taking tools.”
“The challenge of not using computers in class was a good idea, though printing all the material in the format in which it was provided was not entirely convenient for me.”

Workload and Assessments

“The quizzes are useful for assimilating the main ideas of the course with precise formulation.”
“The weekly quizzes require a greater study commitment compared to other three-credit courses.”
“Too much in too little time. I do not know how best to improve the method for fostering the reading and understanding of St. Thomas. I felt that we were always rushing and had no time to read. I greatly enjoyed the moments when I could read the assigned texts at a more measured pace.”

Key Takeaways

Based on my students’ evaluations, I have distilled several key action points for refining my approach:

Prioritize direct engagement with primary sources, such as Scripture and the works of Aquinas.
Minimize time spent outlining course expectations; get to the substance of the material more quickly.
Resist the urge to cover too much content. Instead, focus on in-depth analysis of primary texts, allowing for more thorough discussion and review of key concepts.
Emphasize the coherence of the course as a whole, ensuring students leave with an integrated understanding rather than fragmented pieces of information.
Foster engagement through participation and discussion, keeping students actively involved in the learning process.
Provide students with meaningful autonomy—making participation voluntary and allowing flexibility in note-taking methods.
Approach each course as a process of intellectual formation, not just knowledge transmission.

Super Courses

Now it’s time to turn to Ken Bain’s 2021 book, Super Courses: The Future of Teaching and Learning. This book offers fresh insights grounded in the latest research on human learning.[4] In many instances, it articulates—often eloquently—principles that some of us as educators already grasp intuitively but in an inchoate form.

Before diving into the defining characteristics of super courses, it is important to contrast them with their counterpart: traditional courses and their corresponding traditional teachers. Traditional educators “give students facts to digest.”[3] They may extol the virtues of comprehension, critical thinking, creativity, and problem-solving, yet their assessments often prioritize rote memorization.[3] Course design in this model typically follows “a mixture of tradition and some vague sense of what he or she thinks the students may need. Often the schedule is drawn up weeks in advance, even before the first day of class, perhaps emerging after hours of poring over standard textbooks.”[93–94] In these traditional settings, students “just sat there and accepted knowledge passively.”[109] This approach to education often emphasized technical expertise within rigid disciplinary boundaries: “That standard education had emphasized highly technical expertise in some distinct box of education. You studied to become this or that, but seldom both . . . .”[111]

By contrast, super courses have been shown to foster deep and lasting comprehension. Students not only retain their knowledge and skills over the long term, but they also enjoy the learning experience—making them more likely to cultivate a lifelong intellectual curiosity.[90] So, what’s the secret?

In this section, I outline the principles from the book that I find especially relevant to my discipline (theology). However, these principles have broad applicability across various fields. I have organized them into four main categories: foundational principles, deep learning, the teacher’s role, and classroom activities. The bracketed numbers indicate the corresponding pages.

Foundational Principles

Differentiation (vs. Uniformity)

Each student comes from a “certain soil” and a unique background, which shapes their perspective and potential for growth.[119] A good teacher does not simply “clone herself” but should “help students discover how they could find their own voices and rhythms.”[137]
Course objectives are not “‘equally applicable’ to every student.” There is no single definition of a “successful” student. Students bring a “unique set of skills, passions, and perspectives” to the classroom, leading to diverse learning outcomes and personal development.[64] Hence, teachers should “begin with learning goals the people in the class will embrace as valuable.”[218]
Teachers should show interest in students as individuals by inviting them to share aspects of their identity, such as their language, background, abilities, and interests.[178]
Learning begins with “how to introduce yourself to each other,” helping students recognize that “everyone is unique” and that each person contributes valuable skills to problem-solving.[145]
Students should develop “self-knowledge” by identifying when, where, and how they work best, as well as what motivates or hinders them. This includes recognizing whether they need to “walk, sit, stare at the sky or a blank wall, sit in the grass or snow, or work in a particular corner of the library.”[123] “The more you know about yourself, the more you can be a productive and creative person.”[130]
Each student is “a unique person with much to contribute.” There are “no right or wrong answers” in self-discovery—only the process of understanding oneself.[124]

Growth Mindset (vs. Fixed Mindset)

Praise should focus on effort and process rather than innate ability. “Person praise” (e.g., “how smart you are”) can lead to a fixed mindset and a sense of helplessness, while “task-oriented feedback” (e.g., “you must have worked hard on this”) fosters a growth mindset.[26]

Invitation (vs. Requirement): Freedom in Learning

Teachers should create an inviting learning environment, treating students as “guests at their teacher’s dinner party.”[62] To foster respect, a syllabus should be “invitational” rather than “contractual,”[66; 200] avoiding rigid language such as “‘required’ and ‘assignments.’”[62] However, teachers can occasionally select projects for their students.[51]
The focus of the class should not be on correcting students’ work but on creating an environment where they “set their own standards” and engage deeply with their thoughts and experiences.[131]
Students should not feel they are learning “for [their] teachers,” but rather for themselves, with instructors serving as guides rather than authority figures.[127]
Students should take an interest in their personal growth because “that’s all they’ve got.”[124]
A “student-centered education” ensures that learners control and shape their own educational experience.[132] Instead of presenting a predetermined syllabus, teachers can involve students in constructing the course, reinforcing the principle that they “control their own education.”[13]
“The freedom begins with the decision to take the course.” Once students choose a field, they have a “moral obligation to do it right.”[65]
Students should have the freedom to select the learning method that best suits them, as “there are many ways you might learn this material.”[65]
A sense of equality in the classroom is reinforced when “everybody [is] on a first-name basis.”[200]
At the end of a learning session, students should have the option to continue with their current project, explore a new one, or “abandon their learning entirely.”[45]
Effective teaching balances freedom with structure by offering guidance in a way that feels “helpful and ‘informational’ rather than controlling and directive.” This balance can be maintained through structured resources like a Weekly Assignment Document, which provides reading lists, discussion questions, and practice problems to support key concepts.[46]
Learning cannot be forced; teachers should aim to “convince [students] that it will be worthwhile.”[160]
If a student has not completed a reading on time, they should be able to acknowledge it and choose another text for a future date. This reinforces the idea that students have “a responsibility to themselves and one another to prepare for each class.”[183]

Feedback (vs. Judgment): Constructive Assessment

Students need opportunities to “try, fail, get feedback, and try again” in an environment free from judgment, condemnation, or ridicule.[84] Rigorous courses should balance “high demands” with ample opportunities for students to revise and improve their work before receiving a final grade, ensuring they “learn from their mistakes in the process.”[216] This ideal learning atmosphere mirrors that of scholars and scientists, who expect a space for exploration and refinement but rarely extend the same privilege to students.[94]
Creative excellence requires perseverance, as people often settle for the first idea that comes to mind, while “works of genius require repeated failure and the willingness to keep pushing for something fresh and uniquely yours.”[122]
Teachers should prioritize “formative assessment” over “summative judgment,” allowing students to grow rather than be definitively evaluated too early.[215]

Intrinsic Motivation (vs. Extrinsic Motivation)

Teachers should stimulate intrinsic motivation by making class sessions “golden moments” that students would not want to miss.[64]
Rather than mandating attendance, a compelling course experience should encourage participation by offering both “a valuable educational opportunity” and a sense of commitment to the learning community.[65]
Students’ motivation decreases when they feel controlled by others. Any attempt to force them to pay attention or reconsider their perspectives will be counterproductive.[21]
“Extrinsic motivators,” such as grades, tend to weaken students’ internal drive to learn, especially if they feel manipulated by external forces.[21]
People resist losing their “locus of control” and are less inclined to engage in learning when they believe they lack the ability to succeed.[21]
The “motivation to learn” depends on three key factors: a clear “purpose,” confidence in one’s ability to learn, and the sense of autonomy over “when, where, and what” one chooses to study.[21]
The traditional punitive approach of punishing students for failing to improve, particularly in reading and problem-solving, does not enhance their learning.[93]
Enjoyment in learning increases when students’ motivation comes from within rather than from externally imposed assignments.[171]
“Gamification” enhances learning by tapping into “three interlocking student motivations”: the competitive drive to win, the appeal of playing a subversive role, and the excitement of stepping into another identity.[170] Channeling students’ “competitive spirits” into learning, such as through historical games, can transform education.[170] Activities like scavenger hunts that blend research with “fun and games” can make learning more engaging and immersive.[196]

Community in the Classroom

Group Work That Works

Different voices “prompted us to think more deeply.”[109]
Small group settings encourage collaboration and interactive learning.[150]
Group work should require students “to reach a common response,” compelling them to explain and justify their answers to one another.[77]
Students should create a contract outlining how they will “work together and what to do to resolve problems and disagreements,” drawing from past teamwork experiences to anticipate and prevent future conflicts.[99]
Teachers should address the challenge of “lonely” reading by fostering “social reading,” helping students develop the skills needed to engage with “sophisticated texts.”[33; 100]
Students should recognize that learning involves “joining a community of learners” and accepting their responsibility to contribute on time and act ethically.[102]
Assignments should be structured so that students create their own tasks and hold each other accountable, ensuring that group work has a clear “purpose” rather than being just an imposed obligation.[161]
Effective collaboration depends on full participation—“everyone is needed at the table to make it work.”[199]
“Going public” with academic work stimulates creativity and influences attitudes and intentions. Students present their work through both a written paper and a brief videotaped recording. Students develop the ability to evaluate their own work and assess the contributions of their peers.[97]

The Power of Peer Instruction

“For the things we have to learn before we can do them, we learn by doing them.”[60]
Learners struggling to understand a concept are often better equipped to explain it to peers than experts, as they still remember the challenges of grasping new ideas. Advanced learners, such as professors, often forget the difficulties they once faced when learning new concepts.[77; 87–88]
“Peer instruction” allows students to help one another before receiving an explanation from the teacher.[89]
People are motivated by a sense of belonging to something larger than themselves.[40]
Students should be encouraged to think like teachers by formulating profound questions about course readings as if they were leading the class.[167]

Optimizing Learning Spaces

A well-designed course does not necessarily require students to meet “in the same room at the same time” multiple times per week.[103]
Instructional spaces dedicated to “PBL [problem-based learning] rooms” facilitate problem-solving by providing flexible environments where students can write on “white board” surfaces covering the walls.[144]
A well-designed classroom layout includes movable tables and chairs, allowing students to adapt their workspace without affecting learning outcomes.[150]

Technology as a Learning Tool

The presence of technology “didn’t always boost learning”[10] and can sometimes be a distraction that reduces comprehension and retention.
Merely having a cell phone visible can negatively affect conversations and learning. “Even a cell phone sitting on a table could diminish the quality of conversations—and learning.” [10] Actively using it worsens the impact, reducing both individual understanding and the retention of those nearby.
Interruptions from cell phones, such as ringing, can significantly disrupt focus. It takes almost “thirty minutes” to regain full engagement in a task.[10]
People tend to abandon their current learning materials too quickly when they have easy access to new sources of information, often before fully absorbing what they already have.[11]
Frequent exposure to rapidly changing stimuli, such as those from smartphones and tablets, leads to an addiction to constant change. This addiction results in lower comprehension and memory retention.
Multitasking is an illusion. The brain does not perform multiple cognitive tasks simultaneously; instead, it switches rapidly between them, reducing the quality of each task.[12]

Grading: Measuring What Matters

Grading is not necessary to push learning.[217]
“Grades are not the primary motivation” for academic work.[67] The “legal language of grading” should be avoided to foster a more meaningful educational experience.[63]
Grades provide little insight into future performance beyond school. They do not reliably indicate students’ ability to engage in meaningful conversations, contribute ideas, evaluate their own thinking, or develop creativity.[209–210]
Learning is more important than correctness. Students “received credit for effort, not for right answers.”[93]
Students “don’t always learn conceptually, even when they make high grades.”[149]
In some Super Courses, students are not required to take “any final examinations.”[95]
Grades have been used as tools for punishment, reward, and coercion, leading students to respond mechanically rather than engaging with genuine curiosity.[210–11]
The dominance of grades as an extrinsic motivator has diminished intrinsic fascination, encouraging strategic learning at the expense of deep intellectual engagement.[211]
Do not use grades as a means of coercion to ensure assignment completion. The research indicates that this approach leads to undesirable outcomes, fostering only “surface or strategic learners.”[52]
Assess students based on how well they meet “detailed and fully explained criteria,” rather than comparing them to their classmates. Learning should be evaluated on individual progress and mastery.[102]
Failure occurs only when students refuse to engage and learn from the experience.[124]
“Test” should be renamed an opportunity for students to demonstrate their “brilliant understanding of the work and its issues.”[164]
Each student constructed an argument, supported by evidence, to assess their own level of learning and justify the grade they believed they deserved, based on a rubric the class had previously developed defining what it meant to be an A, B, C, or D thinker.[167]
The final grade was determined through a conversation between the professor and each student.[168]
The professor asked students what grade they aimed to achieve in the course, with the number of selected books corresponding to their chosen grade: five for an A, four for a B, and three for a C.[179]
The belief that there is always a single “right answer” can hinder the development of critical and creative thinking.[208–9]
A system that measures how many correct answers students produce in a limited time does not necessarily assess their ability to think critically, creatively, or even accurately.[208–9]
An assessment system is not “authentic” if it does not evaluate the actual skills and competencies that education aims to develop.[208–9]
“Effort counts from the beginning while results matter.”[216]
The assessment scheme should reward people who experiment, take risks, and learn from failure.[216] Failure is not detrimental, but a lack of effort and engagement is. Those who embrace feedback and improve are rewarded.[216]
By prioritizing engagement and improvement, the course sets higher intellectual and professional expectations rather than lowering them.[216]
Super Courses do not rely on traditional timed exams that require essay writing or selecting correct answers from a list.[217]
Students receive all questions well in advance of the test day.[218]

Deep Learning

Beyond Memorization

To embed knowledge in long-term memory, practicing recall is more effective than merely hearing or reading the material repeatedly.[74] For example, at the end of the semester, students may be asked to set aside their notes and rely solely on their memory to answer a key question, demonstrating the benefits of “retrieval practice.”[188]
However, learning is “far more than rote memory.”[4]
People best remember “what they understand,” as well as what they have used and invented, rather than what has been drilled into them.[23]
In medicine, patients do not care how many facts their doctors can recall; they want physicians who can “solve their medical mystery, make good decisions, and come up with the best care.”[140]
“Without deep intentions,” students may resort to memorization, which has little lasting effect on their thinking, actions, or emotions.[22]
Super professors reject the idea that students must “first ‘learn the facts’ in rote memorization before” engaging in critical and creative thinking.[144]

Higher-Order Thinking (vs. Lecture)

Super professors create a “natural critical learning environment” in which deep learning can take place.[6] They build “scaffolding,” meaning structures that facilitate students’ exploration and even guide them in certain directions.[14–15]

Deep learning entails engagement in higher-order activities, such as:

reflecting on one's learning rather than merely recalling predetermined information[67]
asking whether one's “expectations or paradigms … have been disrupted” to analyze intellectual development and articulate its significance in essays and reflections[67]
re-evaluating and reshaping one's understanding rather than simply accumulating knowledge[184]
building new categories[122]
analyzing one’s thought processes (i.e., being mindful)[122; 126]
searching for deeper meaning by examining ideas from multiple angles[122]
getting immersed in engaging, accessible, and thought-provoking readings[61]
comparing and contrasting “the new information with what they already ‘know’”[18]
reflecting through journaling as an “opportunity to reflect, to analyze, to integrate, to explore, and to test the boundaries of [their] thoughts and feelings”[63]
overcoming resistance to replacing incorrect ideas with new, accurate ones, even when prior concepts are flawed[18]
applying, analyzing, synthesizing, evaluating, theorizing, and transferring knowledge beyond comprehension and memorization[87; 99]
exploring the “implications, applications, possibilities, and evidence” of readings while helping others grasp their basic thesis[181]
solving real-world problems, as “science advances when people have problems they need to solve”[142]
actively comparing and contrasting new information with prior knowledge, considering its “implications and applications,” and transferring it to new situations[184]
engaging in “rich intellectual battles” by comparing “small excerpts from conflicting schools” and mastering “new ways of thinking”[154]
studying “change over time, how and why it happens, and what differences those alterations make”[158]
interacting deeply with historical scholarship, learning to “author it,” constructing strong arguments, and communicating ideas clearly[159]
embracing “not knowing and the ‘anxiety of uncertainty,’” adding “could be” to every claim they make or encounter[202]
reflecting extensively on intellectual and personal growth to formulate meaningful insights[215]
integrating broad areas of knowledge instead of just mastering isolated subjects fosters the ability to transfer insights across domains[149; 175]

Unlocking Creativity in the Classroom

An essential part of the creative process is the ability to recognize good ideas and integrate them with one’s own. This requires a willingness to explore and encounter “new perspectives and possibilities.”[119]
Creativity flourishes at “the intersection of ideas and concepts,” much like great civilizations that develop at crossroads where diverse perspectives meet.[119]
Creativity is both “highly personal” and shaped by a community, as individuals draw energy, actions, and thoughts from one another.[128]

The Role of Writing in Intellectual Growth

Students engage in extensive writing, including formal reports, presentations, and a final in-class essay that challenges them to solve a “complex problem in a limited amount of time.”[147]
Reflective writing for three minutes at the end of class helps reinforce learning. Students respond to the following questions: “What major conclusions did you reach from today’s discussion? Why did you draw those conclusions? What questions remain in your mind?”[166]
Writing should be seen as a collaborative process. Teachers and students shape a paper together, making it something “alive” through discussion and revision.[201]
Engaging in “an inner dialogue” is crucial for self-awareness. Writing in a notebook allows students to explore “what’s going on inside [their] brain” and develop insight into their own thoughts and identity.[124]

Asking Good Questions

Here, I have compiled the great questions from Bain’s 2021 book.

Questions on Life

“Who am I? Why am I here?”[51]
“Given that I will die someday, what kind of life do I want to live?”[51]

Questions on Student Personality

“What languages do you speak?”[178]
“What is your ethnicity?”[178]
“Do you come from a religious background?”[178]
“Do you have any special abilities or hobbies that make you proud?”[178]
“Is there anything that makes you distinctive? Good, bad, or indifferent?”[178]

Questions on University Education

Does university education “change the way people think, act, and feel?”[50]
How much does university education “influence the way people solve problems, invent, understand, and communicate?”[50]
Does university education “expand or destroy intellectual curiosity, or the capacity to tackle fuzzy problems?”[50]
Does university education “foster moral behavior?”[50]

Questions on Course Objectives

“What are the threshold concepts that students need to understand if they enter the discipline at this level and continue to grow?”[61]
“How can I best choose the set of material with which they can practice what I hope will become a lifetime endeavor?”[61]
“What major paradigm did you alter as a result of your study in this class?”[188]

Questions on Student Engagement

What will provoke “lively group exchanges” with your listeners?[59–60]
“How can you ‘formulate stimulating questions?’”[60]
“When and how should you inject ‘personal comments?’”[60]
“What can you do if no one talks?”[60]
“How can they ask each other open-ended questions?”[145]
“How can they be curious about one another?”[145]

Questions on Reading and Comprehension

“What did each of these contribute to a study of [your discipline]?”[177]
“How could this bibliography help them as [theologians]?”[177]
“What’s your evidence?”[180]
“How was that data derived?”[180]
“What counts as proof?”[180]
“What are the problems any reasonable person would face in accepting your line of reasoning and the support you offer?”[180]
“If you have no underpinning, can you admit that your views are unsupported opinions?”[180]

Questions on Learning and Growth

“Do they understand [theology]?”[219]
“Are they likely to remember what they have come to comprehend?”[219]
“Can they use it in multiple situations, realizing its implications and applications, often across a broad range of possibilities?”[219]
“Did the course engage students educationally?”[219]
“Did more pupils take a greater interest in the material and keep up with the readings?”[219]
“Did learners’ new understanding stick with them?”[219]
“Did it help them become better problem solvers, or more empathetic people, or adaptive experts, critical thinkers, inventive writers, or whatever the learning goals happen to be?”[219]
“Do the graduates of a Super Course engage in far transfer more often than do the alums of conventional classes?”[219]
“Does the experience foster more lifetime learners, people who will contemplate the questions long after the class is over and will seek out new evidence and ideas?”[219]

Questions for the End of Class

“What major conclusions did you reach from today’s discussion?”[166]
“Why did you draw those conclusions?”[166]
“What questions remain in your mind?”[166]

Teachers

The Teacher’s Impact

A teacher’s beliefs about their students influence “motivation, grades, and learning.”[42]
A teacher’s deep and genuine curiosity can become “contagious,” inspiring students to share that enthusiasm.[182]
Trust is foundational to deep learning; as students experience meaningful and transformative education, they develop confidence in their teachers and the process.[195]
The most successful teachers engage students in a purpose that extends beyond the class and may even transcend the discipline itself.[84]

Cultivating Engagement and a Learning Mindset

Before designing a syllabus, educators should first reflect on “what it means to be a student.”[34]
Students respond best when teachers express “very high standards” while also conveying confidence in their ability to succeed.[137]
A course should leave students with a “burning desire to learn more” and the skills to continue learning; otherwise, it has failed in ways that may not always be recognized.[37]
People have three fundamental psychological needs: feeling “competent” in what they do, having control over their own lives, and a “burning desire to relate to other people” and be part of something larger than themselves.[40]

Strategies for Effective and Impactful Teaching

Effective teaching focuses on “less better” rather than covering too much material. A good number of lecturers, especially at the undergraduate levels, feel the pressure to cover everything.[61]
The best teachers pose questions that “challenge but do not threaten” and that stimulate curiosity and intellectual engagement.[20]
Thought-provoking, “open-ended and captivating” questions encourage deeper engagement. Strategies like “think-pair-share” allow students to reflect and discuss before addressing the entire class.[59]
Rather than lecturing, teachers should facilitate conversations, introducing students to major intellectual questions and prompting them to reflect on issues that resonate personally.[59]
Academic challenges should remain in the “goldilocks zone between too hard and too soft,” pushing students without overwhelming them.[151]

Contextualized Learning

Subjects should not be presented in a “decontextualized manner,” as learning is more effective when placed in a meaningful context.[38]
Education should cultivate a “lifetime commitment to learning,” teamwork, “contextual understanding,” strong communication abilities, and “rigorous quantitative and qualification skills”—all while making the process enjoyable.[38]
Students should be invited to become “adaptive experts,” with the teacher acting as a “guide by the side rather than a sage on the stage.”[23]

Strengthening Student-Teacher Relationships

Teachers should learn about their students in advance and engage with them personally, such as by sending an introductory letter before the course begins.[52]
Provide “emotional help” to students as they undergo shifts in their paradigms. Support is essential for them to navigate changes in their thinking and perspectives.[24]
“Within ten to twelve seconds, students can often predict with great accuracy which professors will stimulate their learning.”[195]

Classroom Activities

Introduction

Students are more likely to “like and learn” when they understand the logic and evidence supporting a new experience.[220]
At the beginning of a course, instructors should take time to explain “active learning,” present evidence of its effectiveness, and show data demonstrating that students often misjudge what helps them learn deeply.[221]

Before Class

Teachers should provide “students materials to read or videos to watch before they [come] to each class” to maximize in-class learning.[88]

Kickoff Activities

Teachers should design “well-written” and “unambiguous” assessment questions that go beyond memory recall, requiring students to engage in “sophisticated reasoning.”[76]
Questions should capture students’ interest by incorporating elements that are both “familiar” and slightly unexpected, making the learning experience more engaging.[89]
Assessments should not merely check if students did their homework or attempt to “trick them.” Instead, they should create opportunities for students to struggle with their understanding, explain their reasoning, listen to others, and refine their thinking—without being graded on their answers, only on their participation.[89]

During Class

Teachers should avoid using class time for “an old-fashioned lecture.”[153; 95] If lectures take up all class time, students have little opportunity to engage in higher-order cognitive activities.[99]
“Active pedagogies” yield better learning outcomes than even the most effective lectures.[221] Students learn more effectively when they take control of class time, moving away from passive listening.[170]
Teachers may provide explanations for students to engage with outside of class.[153]
Teachers should focus class time on concepts that challenge students, rather than those they already understand.[89] Teachers should focus on topics students have not yet mastered by organizing “weekly workshops” and prompting them to reflect on the most “difficult or confusing” aspects of their readings.[93]
Each day’s activities “depended on considerable evidence (collected the night before and in class)” of “how students were or were not learning.”[93–94]
To transform a class into an “experience” rather than just another requirement, teachers should foster deep learning and inspire engagement in all students.[192]

Final Takeaways

As we near the conclusion of this article, looking back, the methodology I implemented in my two courses—outlined in the first section—sparked considerable interest among some of my colleagues and students. It became a recurring topic during informal lunches with peers and senior faculty members. It also served as an engaging conversation starter with certain students and friends. Word even spread beyond my faculty, prompting inquiries from students in other disciplines who were curious about my approach.

However, after reading Super Courses, I must acknowledge that my course, at its core, remained a traditional one, albeit with occasional elements reminiscent of a Super Course. My teaching was still heavily lecture-driven. My approach has primarily encouraged students to become strategic learners. I did not prioritize fostering deep learning among them, nor did I provide them with ample opportunities to exercise meaningful autonomy in their learning process. (To my surprise, Super Courses devotes little attention to technology—only briefly at the outset—and does not address artificial intelligence at all. It seems to transcend the two challenges that often plague traditional courses.) In many ways, I was that “precision-seeking professor.”[208] The exams I designed did little to assess how deeply my students had internalized theology; many could succeed purely through rote memorization. Moreover, I failed to fully account for my students’ futures. Most of them will likely become educators in some capacity—as priests, formators in the broadest sense, or spiritual directors—yet I did not make a concerted effort to equip them with the skills essential for a teaching vocation. In sum, I fell short in applying the deep learning principles that I so highly value in my research to my own classroom practices. As a result, I failed to impart to my students the significance of developing those very abilities themselves.

Actionable Steps

Recognizing the need to embrace and integrate as many Super Course principles and tools as possible,[31] I now outline concrete, actionable changes that I intend to implement in my teaching—starting today. These adjustments are informed by my self-assessment, student feedback, and Bain’s 2021 book.

Before the first day of class, I will present course expectations—either through a written document or a recorded explanation on Loom—so that only one hour of class time is needed for an in-person introduction.
I will establish course goals that extend beyond the classroom and even beyond the discipline, giving greater consideration to my students’ futures as formators and theologians. What makes a good theologian?[158] How can I help my students become good theologians?
I will engage with the four great conversations: with the natural world (e.g., the scientific realm; references to creatures as vestiges of the Trinity); with ourselves and other human beings (e.g., self-knowledge, mutual understanding, anthropology, morality); with human artifacts (e.g., ideas, arts, cultures); and with a metaconversation about change and stability (e.g., the history and evolution of theological ideas).[223]
Rather than centering my course on topics, I will structure it around big, thought-provoking questions and complex problems.[31] I am considering employing the four S’s: “the questions had to be significant;” “the entire class tackled the same problem;” “students would face a specific choice (as we will see) and the responsibility of defending their selection;” and “finally, teams engaged in simultaneous reporting, debate, and discussion.”[76]
I will use the arts to surface key questions and challenges, drawing on Rome’s extraordinary artistic heritage. By identifying artworks that resonate with the Trinitarian treatise, I can tap into the power of visual storytelling to deepen engagement. As Einstein put it, “Knowledge is limited. Imagination encircles the world.”[119]
To foster dynamic peer learning, I will organize my students into small, heterogeneous groups of four. This structure ensures that each group is intimate enough to prevent free-riding while still allowing for diverse perspectives. Their work will focus on research, comprehension, and the exposition of core concepts essential to tackling the course’s central problems.
To cultivate rigorous intellectual debate, I will have students engage in “rich intellectual battles” by comparing “small excerpts from conflicting schools” and mastering “new ways of thinking.”[154] The pursuit of consensus in group discussions sharpens students’ ability to articulate their positions while actively engaging with opposing viewpoints. This process not only strengthens their arguments but also deepens their capacity for critical listening.
I will also incorporate social reading through Perusall. I reached out to Perusall, the interactive social learning platform developed by Harvard professors and recommended in Bain’s 2021 book, and they have now added Pontifical University of the Holy Cross to their list of participating institutions. I am in the process of learning how to use it and will integrate it into my courses next semester.
In a bid to make the most of my classroom’s diversity, I may invite students to contribute insights from their own backgrounds and talents, weaving their unique perspectives into the broader framework of the course.
I will provide generous, thesis-level feedback on their work, treating each submission as an opportunity for substantive intellectual growth.
I will analyze my students’ existing paradigms and track how they evolve over the course of the semester.
To foster a greater sense of ownership over their learning, I will give students more control over the problems they choose to solve. This means rethinking the language of my syllabi—I will avoid the terms “assignment” and “requirement” to shift the focus from obligation to intellectual curiosity. On the first day of class, it may be helpful to emphasize that students have actively chosen to take this course—even if, in the case of required courses, that choice is somewhat constrained.
While I remain convinced of the harmful effects of distractions (and the devices that enable them), I will revisit my no-screen policies. The classroom environment should reflect the research conditions I set for myself. With this in mind, I am considering inviting students to refrain from using their phones during class while allowing them to use any research or note-taking tools they prefer, including laptops and tablets. At the same time, I will encourage them to maintain a handwritten journal to deepen engagement with their learning.
At the start of each class, I will administer a ConcepTest based on the assigned materials (whether texts or videos). This assessment will consist of a conceptual question with three possible answers, from which students must choose the most correct one. Each student will indicate their answer with their fingers (one, two, or three), then pair up with a classmate who selected a different response to discuss and reconcile their differences. After this exchange, they will present their final answers to see if any have shifted. Finally, I will either explain the correct response or facilitate a discussion centered on their reasoning and how their thinking evolved.[88–91]
To conclude the semester, I will hold an oral exam—an opportunity for a one-on-one conversation with each student. This will serve as both a reflection on their learning and a collaborative discussion about their final grade.

Activity Ideas

Here are some activity ideas I developed based on major theological questions and challenges.

Evaluating Trinitarian Analogies

Identify an image or analogy of the Trinity you have encountered. Assess its strengths and weaknesses. Does it adequately capture the mystery of the Trinity, or does it fall into a theological pitfall? How might you refine or improve it? What underlying assumptions does this analogy make about divine nature? In what ways might this analogy mislead or oversimplify complex theological concepts? How can you defend your improved analogy against potential criticisms?

Explaining the Trinity to a Child

Imagine you are teaching a ten-year-old about the Trinity. Which analogy or image would you use? Why? How would you balance simplicity with theological accuracy? What are the potential pitfalls of using overly simplified language when discussing such a profound mystery? How would you anticipate and address any questions or misconceptions that might arise from your explanation?

Exploring a Theologian’s Perspective on the Trinity

Choose a theologian known for their Trinitarian theology. Why does their work interest you? What are their key insights? How did their historical and cultural context shape their approach? What sources influenced their thought, and whom did they, in turn, influence? What biases or limitations might have influenced this theologian’s perspective? How does this theologian’s interpretation compare with contemporary understandings? Can you identify any potential blind spots in their argumentation, and how might you address them?

Debating a Heresy

Select a Trinitarian heresy. Divide the group, with some members adopting the perspective of the heretic and others representing the theologians or councils that refuted it. What were the core arguments on each side? What historical forces contributed to the heresy’s emergence? How was the debate resolved, and how comprehensive was the Church’s response? What underlying philosophical or cultural conflicts can you identify in this debate? How might the debate differ if examined from a modern perspective? What lessons can be drawn about the nature of dissent and consensus in theological discourse?

Comparing Theological Schools of Thought

Contrast different schools of Trinitarian thought. How do they approach key questions? Where do they diverge, and what accounts for these differences? What implications do their distinct perspectives have for theology today? What common assumptions underlie these schools of thought, and where do they challenge each other? How can understanding these differences deepen your appreciation of the broader theological conversation? In what ways might integrating insights from multiple schools lead to a more nuanced understanding of the Trinity?

Justin Stover, “There Is No Case for the Humanities,” Chronicle of Higher Education, March 4, 2018, https://www.chronicle.com/article/there-is-no-case-for-the-humanities/.