The concept of a sabbatical has its roots in the Western religious traditions, in particular in the Bible. The Ten Commandments, ostensibly given to Moses, includes not only a negative series of commands—“thou shalt nots”—but also includes two positive commandments—“Honor thy mother and father,” and “Keep holy the Sabbath day.” Of all of the commandments, keeping holy the Sabbath day was probably the easiest one to obey! Who is going to argue with taking a day off, even if the express purpose is to focus on God? Of course, remembrance and worship of the God who created all and made all things possible was the primary intent. But there were practical implications as well—everyone/everything was able to rest, including humans, animals, and the land.

In our modern world, this directive has been somewhat watered down, especially with so many Blue laws no longer in effect. Yet many religious believers the world over take this opportunity to attend their house of worship to focus on God. The directive to take a break in the seventh year was a further extension of the Sabbath day. While most biblical scholars will be familiar with the religious component of the sabbatical, almost all faculty, regardless of area of study, know the secular idea of the sabbatical used in the modern college and university. This is what specifically informs the ministerial and academic practices of the sabbatical—the idea that one could take a full year off to focus on things other than one’s usual routine, with the ability to apply and hopefully receive the opportunity to be released from one’s regular duties. It is not so much to focus on God (although that is not necessarily precluded), as to focus on “something else.”  

Editor's note (3/5/2016): Since publication of this essay, Larycia Hawkins has accepted a position at the University of Virginia's Institute for Advanced Studies in Culture as the Abd el-Kader Visiting Faculty Fellow.

Review of "The Routledge Companion to Religion and Popular Culture," Edited by John C. Lyden and Eric Michael Mazur
Routledge: New York, 2015, $240.00

The Routledge Companion series provide an overview to the study of a wide range of fields, approaches, topics, and figures. The Companion volumes typically provide an introduction  to the subject matter which puts the current discussion in a historical context, offer a structure for organizing the discussion of the topic, and essays by authors from a variety of perspectives within their organizing structure. Though typically too expensive to use as textbooks, the volumes have developed a reputation as rich and trustworthy introductions of a topic that bring together diverse voices in the field and serve as helpful research sources.

The Routledge Companion to Religion and Popular Culture illustrates the breadth of attention scholars who study religion are giving to popular culture and provides an opportunity to reflect on the range and development of this discourse. It should quickly become a standard source book for those interested in the topic and belongs in the libraries of colleges, seminaries, and universities where the subject is being taught or researched. The editors are respected figures in the study of religion and popular culture: Lyden is known particularly for his contributions to the study of religion and film and Mazur as the editor of one of the standard textbooks on religion and popular culture.   

In Part I, Lyden and Mazur offer introductory essays discussing the development of interest in religion and popular culture, speculate about the reasons for attention to the topic, and consider its growing acceptance as a scholarly topic over the last twenty-five years. These are useful essays that put the rest of the volume in context.

I do, however, raise a couple of cautions about the editors’ portrayal of the discussion of religion and popular culture today. First, the editors give attention to the longstanding complaint that the study of popular culture has not been respected in the academy. There was clearly a time when religious studies resisted attention to popular culture, but it is hard to sustain the argument today. Presentations related to popular culture appear in many AAR/SBL groups, and journals and many books on the topic give evidence to its place in academic discourse. Indeed it is the popularity of the topic with both scholars and students that demonstrates the need for this volume. It seems more accurate to note that popular culture studies are a part of a broader trend that focuses on religion in everyday life.

Secondly, as is increasingly common, the editors discuss the attention to religion and popular culture as though it marked the emergence of a new field. But, this area of study has no distinctive methodologies. It draws, as the volume demonstrates, on religious, literary, media, and cultural studies. Would it not be more accurate to think of the interface of religion and popular culture as an important location for the interdisciplinary study of religion rather than as a field?

I first met René Girard in a lecture I attended in 1969 as a graduate student in the English Department at the State University of New York at Buffalo. He had recently arrived from Johns Hopkins University, fresh on the heels of the 1966 conference on “The Languages of Criticism and the Sciences of Man,” that he had helped to organize and that would play such a decisive role in American critical thinking. He spoke of desire, sacrifice, Greek tragedy, primitive ritual, and violence in human culture in a way that, even at that early moment, I felt had the potential to change the way we think about those ideas.