2 of 6
Consider, for example, the trends analyzed in Colleen Carroll's The New Faithful: Why Young Adults are Embracing Christian Orthodoxy (2002). A journalist interested in the religious climate among young people today, Carroll documents the enormous interest in ancient, liturgical Christianity among younger, educated evangelicals—sometimes leading to conversion to Orthodoxy or Catholicism, more often leading to greater attentiveness to tradition and ecclesiology, almost invariably leading to criticism of stale Protestant-Catholic polemics and a weariness with the fearmongering anti-Catholicism that has pervaded much of twentieth-century evangelicalism.
And this brings us to the rub. The Hochschild case at Wheaton has a recognizable generational-cum-theological aspect, a conflict between those who want to circle the wagons around 20th-century evangelical doctrinal formulations (above all, a pinched definition of biblical inerrancy increasingly qualified or disavowed by evangelical theologians), encoded pointedly in faith statements, and those who believe that the fullness of Christian expression predates and transcends the wisdom of the last few generations. Put differently: on the one hand, younger faculty and many students (with some sympathetic administrators and trustees) increasingly feel that if evangelical institutions do not broaden their faith statements in the direction of orthodoxy (in Oden's sense), they risk intellectual narrowness and impoverish students' ability to act upon Scripture's ecumenical mandate. On the other hand, many senior administrators, such as those at Wheaton, and many trustees (with some sympathetic faculty and students), equate tampering with existing faith statements as a dive onto the slippery slope of secularism. If colleges alter their faith statements, President Litfin of Wheaton writes in his recent book Conceiving the Christian College (2004), the ultimate destination is "entirely predictable": "the institution will wind up just another formerly religious school, basically secular in reality if not in name."
To be fair, Litfin's worries are not unfounded: the evangelical schools that make up the Council for Christian Colleges and Universities (CCCU) don't need to look very far to find examples of once-Christian colleges long estranged from their original mission. As I have become acquainted with robustly Christian institutions and those living off the capital of a former glory, I'm persuaded that the future lies with the former, not the latter. Judicious hiring practices and faith statements therefore remain of abiding importance, not only to ensure a clear mission but—and one can argue this on liberal grounds—to nourish a rich institutional diversity in higher education. CCCU colleges have contributed greatly to this diversity, not by "celebrating diversity" in the abstract, but by being attentive to their actual mission.
And yet—and yet. As Carroll's The New Faithful and other analyses suggest, we are living in a new era. Not only are the anathemas, divisions, and stereotypes of the 16th-century breach breaking down all around us at last, but also the fundamentalist-modernist controversies of the early 20th century, which account for much of the embattled sense of present-day evangelicalism, are increasingly remote from current challenges. If one uses political clout, publishing notice, and church attendance as barometers of cultural authority, evangelicals are now in the driver's seat with respect to certain aspects of American society. (It bears remembering that power corrupts, as Lord Acton famously said, and power that retains an embattled sense of powerlessness, is, well, … Acton would have something pithy to say about this too.)
share this page
RSS Feed
