It’s long past time that I describe an extended experiment in group learning conducted over the last few years. The setting was Christ Church Episcopal in Portola Valley, California, where my spouse and I were Scholars in Residence, conducting seminars on biblical topics for their adult education program.

Seminary training for Christian clergy all too often gives short shrift to the Old Testament, which is unfortunate because without a grounding in that book, the New Testament becomes harder to understand. The OT, after all, provided the context within which early Christianity grew. We formed a seminar of parishioners to go through the Gospel of Mark, and did so a chapter at a time. It was a good exercise. When it was over there were calls for something on the Old Testament. Since that was my academic training, I was elected. We decided to tackle the book of Genesis.

While I was studying at Berkeley, I took the seminar in advanced biblical Hebrew conducted by Rabbi Jacob Milgrom, one of the top Torah scholars of the previous century. In that seminar we employed the classic method of slow, close reading of the text employed by rabbinic scholars for centuries. Milgrom’s class would take an entire semester to get through a single chapter of Leviticus. The results of these seminars formed the grist for Milgrom’s three-volume commentary on that book for the Anchor Bible series.

The success of this exercise was not a foregone conclusion. The members of Milgrom’s seminar were all students already well-versed in Biblical Hebrew and other languages, graduate students who were very much on their game. Would this approach work with laypersons, whose knowledge of the subject ranged from “none” to “quite a lot”? Could these people learn together?

We didn’t go quite as slow as Milgrom did, but as we moved into the text a verse or two at a time, we allowed ourselves time to poke, prod, ask questions, and take side-trips into related areas. For instance, an examination of the creation stories allowed us to look at comparable cosmogonies from other traditions, particularly those of Babylon and Egypt. Doing so lets one see that the Genesis creation stories are in fact part of a debate with other systems in which Judaism was articulating core values that inform the rest of Genesis, and the Old Testament. When we reached Abraham, we spent time exploring the world of the early Bronze age pastoral nomads and traces of their world among Bedouin Arabs.

Meeting each Wednesday for a little over an hour each week, it took ten months to get through Genesis. It may sound like a slog, but it was not. We had roughly a dozen people showing up to church on a weeknight, including people who were not from the parish, but had heard about the seminar and decided to give it a try. We had a blast.In fact, the seminar was so successful that we conducted another seminar on Isaiah (that took fourteen months), and yet another on Ecclesiastes (Roughly four months).

Now that we have relocated to Oregon, the Portola Valley seminar continues in capable hands. Meanwhile we hope to be able to replicate locally what we did in California. As part of that, I’ve tried to isolate some rules and guidelines for conducting these sorts of slow reading seminars.

First of all, respect the beginners! You may have a Ph.D. in the subject, but if someone who knows little or nothing shows up, be willing and able to offer quick, two or three-sentence explanations about some of the background items. Longer explanations bog down the discussion and overload beginners. Having an open-ended seminar with no clear end date gives you time to bring newcomers up to speed when needed.

Second, give everyone a role to play, if they want one. For instance, if you were studying a book of the Bible, invite others to bring their favorite translations, or follow along in a commentary if they feel comfortable doing so.

Another useful thing to do is if you see an item coming up that will generate a lot of discussion, assign two of the seminar members in advance to do some additional reading and be ready to report to the class when the time comes. Be there to answer questions they have along the way and point them towards useful resources. Keep in mind that the point of a seminar is to raise the expertise of your seminar members. Give them a chance to test their wings.

Other good exercises include assigning an outside article to someone with the background to read and digest it, and then have them write a summary of a page or two and distribute it to the rest of the seminar when you reach the topic. If someone has travelled to a location germane to your subject, invite them to tell the rest of the class about the trip. Guest speakers are also a great idea. During out Isaiah seminar, we invited a local rabbi to come and give the Jewish perspective on Isaiah 53, the famous “Suffering Servant” passage.

Use handouts. If you have a sideline subject that will add to the overall background and understanding, draw up a few pages about it and pass it out to the class.

Pursue outreach relentlessly. Get the word out any way you can. The greater the diversity of people in your seminar, the better it will be. You never really know what kinds of insightful comments people will add that enrich the experience. We found that a dozen seems to be optimum, although somewhat larger or smaller groups also work well.

Food. Our seminar always began with a small potluck supper that got things off to a good, companionable start. Snacks and beverages at the very least are a must.

Don’t be afraid to ask for a modest contribution from those in attendance. If you are conducting your seminar under the auspices of a church or other organization, perhaps you can work out something with them. Try to avoid working for free.

Every seminar will have people with, let us say, eccentric ideas. Diplomacy is a fine art that can keep them from derailing your seminar, or pursuing a career of being the weirdest person in the room. One key is to keep the session moving. Another is to learn how to gently take a nutty notion and say something like, “I think you’ll find that is a dry well.” or rather than directly counter a completely crazy notion ask, “How would you respond to someone who raised <insert counterpoint here> in response to your theory?” With thought, you can come up with your own panoply of gambits.

Indulge honest ignorance, but do not suffer wilful ignorance. I have not yet had such a confrontation; most of the time those who can’t abide ambiguity or have their preconceived notions challenged drop out quietly. Hopefully that will be your experience as well. Don’t be afraid of being challenged with honest questions; it’s okay to say, “I don’t know” if you really don’t know. But keep a grip on your intellectual integrity.

A final thought. Humans learn best in communal settings. Two persons engaged in passionate discussion is enough. Forming communities of learners, thinkers, readers, writers, creators, and activists is one of the most satisfying ways to pursue a life of the mind. Let them see your passion for your subject. Don’t play the cool, coy, aloof intellectual. This stuff matters, dammit! If you find ways to make your subject relevant to the lives of your students, you will expand their learning tenfold.