School of Arts and Sciences Review Winter 2014 | Page 23
Q:
Why did you become a university professor? And when/how did you develop your
interest in theology?
One in particular that stands out as especially generative was “Faith,
Rationality, and the Passions,” a special issue of articles from academics in psychology, social history, philosophy, neuroscience and
theology exploring, from their respective disciplinary perspectives,
how faith, reason and emotions interrelate and prove mutually illuminating. One of the more rewarding aspects of being an editor is
the opportunity to engage and partly shape the present parameters
and agendas of the discipline.
Q:
You joined the St. Bonaventure faculty
in 2000 … what brought you to the university?
At the time I joined the theology faculty at St. Bonaventure, the theology major had not only recently been reinstated, but a new master’s
program in theology had just been initiated. So the prospect of teaching both undergraduate and graduate students in theology was appealing. As well, Clare College — the University’s core curriculum —
was in its nascency, and I was attracted to the interdisciplinary character of some of its courses. Indeed, over the years a good part of my
teaching has been in Clare College, particularly “The Intellectual Journey” course and, on occasion, “The Good Life” and “The Foundational Religious Texts of the Western World.” I was hired
predominantly to fulfill course offerings in Catholic Moral Theology
and Theological Ethics. I have taught a variety of courses in this area,
as well as in the Honors program and in the Aging Studies program.
My interest in theology began quite early. I grew up
on the open prairies of Western Canada where one
cannot help but be confronted by the geography and
the sheer immensity of the land, the seemingly endless horizons in all directions. If Montana is “Big Sky
Country,” then Alberta — which lies just to its north
— is even “Bigger Sky Country” (excuse the Texassized hyperbole)! I recall reading as a teenager W. O.
Mitchell’s Who Has Seen the Wind? — a rather philosophical, meditative novel authored by a person who, I
later discovered, lived in High River, a town about an
hour from where I grew up — and being entranced by
its metaphysical questions. On the prairies the wind is,
as you can imagine, very much a constant — but one
that is at the same time insubstantial, a wraithlike,
ever changing presence. For me this was a natural
stimulus to wonder about God. I did not begin my
post-secondary education with the explicit goal of becoming a university professor, let alone a theologian. I
was an inquisitive student with omnivorous interests. I
discovered after a semester at university that I didn’t
really have the makings of a scientist (my initial major),