Encountering the “Thou”: Ungrading as Reclaiming Christian Vision
From Instrumentalization to Encounter
Editor’s Note: This post is a part of a series of responses to “From Coercion to Fascination: Grades, Vulnerability, and Responsibility” curated by Alessandro Rovati, the Associate Editor of the Journal of Moral Theology.
Any teacher who has experienced a student trying to argue for why they deserve more points on an assignment can likely commiserate with the way in which education can become transactional. Reflecting theologically on ungrading (serendipitously, as I prepared to give my Midterm exam) prompted me to revisit Martin Buber’s “I-Thou” philosophy and its intersection with Heron and Rovati’s approach to teaching and assessment. Existence, Buber posits, can be encountered by the individual via two attitudes: as an “It,” an object which is separate from the self and which will be either used or experienced, or as a “Thou.” Encountering another as a “Thou” implies a relationship that lacks discrete boundaries and is contextualized within a relationship with God who is the Eternal Thou. In this philosophy, it is a choice to encounter the other as a “Thou,” and this choice transforms the nature of their relationship.
Buber’s invitation to intentionally encounter the other (in this case one’s students) as a Thou recognizes that relationality is not taken for granted; one must be aware of the nature of the other as something not to be used or merely experienced, but encountered. Buber, like Giussani, resists the instrumentalization of relationships. Ungrading aids the instructor in seeing students as Thou-s and frustrates the tendency toward “the adversarial relationship that traditional grades create” in favor of the formation of “a partnership with our students that involves them in deciding what they want to achieve in the course.” (125)
It seems that ungrading also invites students to consider who they want to be–not only as learners as they reflect on the grade they want and the intellectual and personal work they are willing to do to get there–but as human persons. When students are encountered Thou-s the instructor is better able to help them toward both the secondary end of their chosen grade and the final end of who they become (telos). In recognition of Christianity’s proclamation of the fact that “the supreme law of all human relationships is charity—gratuitous and complete love for the person and thus love for her freedom,” (123) the instructor should both embody charity toward the student and invite them to consider what living out of charity looks like in their current reality. The heart of this caritas is the freedom God offers each of us; leaning into this freedom releases the students from the framework of studying to avoid the “stick” of a bad grade or to earn the “carrot” of a good grade. Caritas asks students questions and invites students to pursue them in search of a Truth that is personal.
The encounter that takes place between persons is central to Buber’s philosophy. When one considers the study of theology as an opportunity for the conversion of both the intellect and the heart, the instructor must do all he or she can to cultivate encounters with Christ. Jesus’s exchange with the rich young man in Matthew’s Gospel provides a fruitful means to reflect on encounter’s role in theology and how ungrading might encourage it. In Christ is found the answer to each question, theological or otherwise, of the human heart. Veritatis Splendor states that “the decisive answer to every one of man’s questions, his religious and moral questions in particular, is given by Jesus Christ, or rather is Jesus Christ himself” (Veritatis Splendor, no. 2). When theology invites students to encounter Christ, and they do so with open minds and hearts, it helps them probe their most pressing questions wherever they are on their spiritual journey. In the rich young man’s question of what he must do to gain eternal life teachers might hear echoes of achievement-driven students asking what they need to do to ace the exam or maintain their high GPA. Instructors quickly weary of this question, because to us, they are asking the wrong question.
Veritatis Splendor points to the real question being asked both by the rich young man and, many of us hope, by our students: What is the full meaning of my life? This question is perennial; “Jesus’ conversation with the rich young man continues, in a sense, in every period of history, including our own” (Veritatis Splendor, no. 25). John Paul II describes the pursuit of truth in this way:
“In the young man, whom Matthew’s Gospel does not name, we can recognize every person who, consciously or not, approaches Christ the Redeemer of man and questions him about morality. For the young man, the question is not so much about rules to be followed, but about the full meaning of life…This question is ultimately an appeal to the absolute Good which attracts us and beckons us; it is an echo of a call from God who is the origin and goal of man’s life” (Veritatis Splendor, no. 7).
The rich young man encounters Truth in the person of Christ, and this is the same truth toward which instructors encourage their students, evoking St. Ambrose’s statement: “Know, then, O beautiful soul, that you are the image of God. Know that you are the glory of God (1 Cor 11:7). Hear how you are his glory…Know then, O man, your greatness, and be vigilant” (Veritatis Splendor, no. 10). Ungrading, it seems, nudges students towards this end by helping them grapple with truth (and often Truth) through personal accompaniment.
There are two seeds of hope that Heron and Rovati’s piece planted in my pedagogy. The first is a reminder of the distinctively human work of teaching theology–something that Artificial Intelligence (AI) cannot do. If theology’s heart rests in facilitating encounters with the ultimate Thou–God’s very Self, then humans who bear God’s own image are the best facilitators of this encounter. The second is the gift of being re-focused on my task as a teacher of theology. While I cannot yet fully transition to ungrading, its focus on facilitating student autonomy and freedom refreshes my teaching soul. It helps me consider how I might centralize student growth and development intellectually and personally through my course and helps guard against becoming too focused on the incidentals of teaching theology. It reminds me how to see and encounter my students, and better facilitate their encounters with Christ.
Editor’s Note: For more conversations with the Journal of Moral Theology’s authors and responses to their essays, check out HERE.


