Once again, a major public university finds itself the backdrop for a serious policy debate about the role of race in higher education—and in the broader society—within the United States. The recent rulings of the Supreme Court on the University of Michigan's affirmative action policies have refocused national attention on racial preferences and their role in American life.
In the cacophony of contending voices I tend to resonate most clearly with those of other college and university presidents. One worthy contribution to the debate was a New York Times op-ed piece by Leon Botstein, president of Bard College, in which he discussed a "reasonable definition of merit" that does not reduce college admissions to the assessment of a single metric such as the SAT (January 14, 2003). Botstein rightly points to a tacit hypocrisy that has long plagued higher education: universities "have for too long maintained a lie about how subjective and imprecise the assessment of merit actually is." He is surely on point to maintain that the sum total of a person's promise as a college student—or potential as an employee, for that matter—cannot be captured by a simple numerical measure.
Accepting that access to higher education for all segments of society is just and necessary for the public good, how then shall students be evaluated? And why does this debate matter not only to large public universities but also to private faith-based institutions?
Universities should work to ensure that their programs are utilized by minority students because a "critical mass" of underrepresented minorities is necessary to secure the numerous benefits of a diverse student body. Such was the conclusion of Justice Sandra Day O'Connor in her opinion in the Grutter case. In Grutter, the Court ruled that the University of Michigan Law School could use race as a "plus" factor in admissions, provided that the admissions program retains sufficient flexibility "to ensure that each applicant is evaluated as an individual" and not in a way that makes an applicant's race or ethnicity the defining feature of his or her application. The benefits of diversity accrue to the private university as well as to the public.
Those of us in states with significant populations of non-white citizens should care in particular about the matter of racial diversity. Demographic studies in the state of Texas, for example, project the Anglo population as a minority by 2005. Baylor has taken the issue of diversity seriously, intentionally approaching the process of minority recruitment. This year, over 20 percent of the student body consists of minority students, and minorities will likely constitute over 25 percent of the entering freshman class.
Matters of policy, demographics, and politics aside, though, there exists for those of us in faith-based universities a fundamental theological basis for the "inclusion principle." In the midst of the present controversy we should remember that the scriptural sources of both the Jewish and Christian traditions posit a high view of inclusivity and human universality. The Hebrew Scriptures contain multiple prophetic critiques of Israel's merely tribal and narrowly national interests.
The same is true of New Testament sources. Certainly the words of Jesus point well beyond the boundaries of Israel even when, for particularistic reasons, the message often begins in Israel. The commissioning of the gospel to all nations is an obvious point of reference, but its position in Matthew as a matter of literary closure gives it particular weight. In the Gospel of Luke, the author's redactional addition of "and all flesh shall see the salvation of God" (3:6) clearly reflects an intentional strategy vis-à-vis the Synoptic tradition. The sermon of Jesus in Nazareth is not only normative for Luke's Gospel but is particularly significant for the inclusive themes it develops as it draws upon Isaiah 61 and the latter's midrashic application of the Jubilee and Sabbath Year themes of Leviticus 25 and Deuteronomy 15. The literary strategy of Acts opens with a charge to move from geographic and ethnic particularity to the "uttermost parts of the earth" and closes with Paul's career climaxing in a clear, open-ended reference to the Apostle in Rome, preaching a gospel to Jews and Gentiles "unhindered."






