Nels
Ferre. 1961. “Contemporary
Theology and Christian Higher Education,” Chapter 18,
In Searchlights on Contemporary Theology, New York: Harper and
Brothers. Used by permission.
Reading
assigned by Dallas Willard for the Ted Ward Consultation, November 2000.
HIGHER
education is especially important during periods of rapidly changing culture.
Then, teachers of higher education have a peculiar opportunity to help chart
civilization. Major discoveries of fact and decisive new contexts of
interpretation eventually remold the basic assumptions for culture. In both
manner and intensity, our age is exceptionally transitional and consequently
open to significant impact from higher education. Our assigned task is to
survey and to appraise the field of contemporary theology for its capacity for
constructive impact on higher education. Even a sketch can be of value if it
highlights what is important; conciseness can, gain the power of
concentrated focus.
I
Farthest
on the right stand the fundamentalists. A few years ago even to mention this
position might have seemed quite irrelevant to the problem of higher
education, both because of fundamentalism’s external standard of authority
and because of its belonging to a bygone era. As far as the first of these
liabilities goes, there is always a natural chasm between fundamentalism and
higher education. Fundamentalism accepts literal, biblical authority; higher
education requires an open inquiry. No cleft was apparent, radically and
finally, until scientific method and the historical consciousness showed us
that truth separates literalism and open inquiry. No matter what minor
concessions it might make to the historic conditionedness of the Bible,
fundamentalism’s basic position must remain because of the nature of its
authority: “We know what we believe; don’t confuse us with facts!” But
fundamentalists are changing rapidly. They are giving up fundamentalism with
its inflexibility and becoming what they call “evangelicals.”
In a
fundamentalist periodical, Christian Life, a strongly representative group of young
conservative leaders signed an article saying that they no longer want to be
called fundamentalists or to be tied down to a narrow interpretation of
inspiration but that they want to be called evangelicals, who make Christ as
holy love their final authority. Similarly, in Christianity Today article
after article disclaims obscurantism and calls for an honest facing of
intellectual issues. Insofar as this tendency continues, we can conclude only
that fundamentalism as a position shows itself less and less tenable to those
competently educated. Resurgence to conservative Christianity in our day seems
to be accompanied by its maturation. While respecting its devotees in higher
education for their intention of integrity and for their loyalty to an
intrinsically difficult situation, we must nevertheless maintain that there is
an inherent tension between higher education and fundamentalism; external
authority and open inquiry are hard to reconcile.
Let
it be said, however, concerning fundamentalism, that with regard to its main
positive Christian contentions it stands in the solid line of historic
Christianity; and it may even be that in the far future we will come to see
that liberal accommodationism could not get rid of true, evangelical
supernaturalism because of the intransigence of fundamentalism.. Therefore,
we honor it while we recognize that our task goes beyond it: to find a
theology that both maintains the heart of the full Christian faith and
communicates constructively in give and take with higher education.
II
The
theological tendency that is the strongest throughout the world today is
Kierkegaardian neo-Calvinism as represented in different ways and degrees by
Karl Barth, Emil Brunner, and Thomas Torrance, among others. Basically, this
position is Calvinism as reinterpreted through Barth after his immersion in
Kierkegaard and consequent conversion by him from liberalism. Actually,
through Kierkegaard it is also touched by a strain from Martin Luther as well
as by existentialism. This drive differs vitally from other returns from
liberalism, for instance from that of P. T. Forsyth who maintained throughout
an understanding and appreciation of God’s work in human reason, in human
conscience, and in the order of creation as a whole, which neo-Calvinism
rejects.
Nevertheless,
this leading theological position is both right and needful in its main
affirmations. It claims at its center that the Christian faith in its biblical
position is ultimate and cannot, therefore, be classed as a religion or
compared with other religions. In the Bible, and only in the Bible, God,
focused and fulfilled in the Christ, has revealed himself. This revelation is
not a matter of ideas but of God’s mighty acts, of saving events. Revelation
is not propositional truth. Neo-Calvinism furthermore claims that such faith
cannot be verified in terms of reason, experience, metaphysics, or history.
The less certain and the less real cannot demonstrate or prove what is
absolute and eternal. It proclaims that God is not to be found in man or in
nature, for God is “wholly other,” eternally different from these, and is
in no way part of what is created. Barth has backed away from his own extreme
position, and some of his followers have also become modified “Barthians,”
but the movement as a whole owes its distinctive nature and power to the
emphases we have noted. Throughout the world, it is maintaining and in some
places gaining strength..
While
right and essential in its main contentions, neo-Calvinism suffers from a
false all-or-none analysis. Its primary either-or lacks a s.oondary b6th4nd.
The Christian faith is ultimate; revelation cannot be reduced to
propositions; God cannot be proved by anything less than himself; and God is
ever other than the creature. Therefore we must ever live by faith in loving
obedience. On the other hand, neo-Calvinism is wrong in its repudiation of
reason in its rightful place and legitimate manner. Albeit revelation is a
matter of God’s self-revelation in events, in history, and supremely in a
Person, yet that revelation by its very nature cannot be equated with
propositional truth; nevertheless, revelation must be apprehended,
understood, and communicated by means of concepts and propositions. How can
people believe unless they have heard, and heard the proclaimed Word? As we
said earlier, Barth’s theology can perhaps best be called the Theology of
the Word, the Word transcending all meaning, surpassing all understanding, and
yet also it must be recognized, communicable within and for faith by means of
inescapable concepts and sentences.
As
for reasons incapacity to prove God, reason does not exist either to create or
to establish revelation but to find it, to clarify it, and to apply it. God
reveals himself; that is God’s part. Man (sic)
responds to revelation in faith by reason; that is man’s part.
Revelation and reason are on different planes. One cannot take the place of
the other. There is a positive relation between revelation and reason or between reality and man’s need. In order to
discover this relation man must first decide for, and develop integrity of,
the whole man in actual life and thereafter study as best he can to find what
is true and false revelation. In his able Fides Quaerens Inteflectum, Barth
goes so far as to accept the inferential use of reason from the basis of
revelation. Such acceptance assumes that revelation has a nature that lends
itself as a total context for knowledge or to a central focus of
perspectives.
Beyond
this expansion of his standpoint he should have gone on to see that from
within this perspective man has the competence, by reason on its own plane,
to check and to challenge candidates for revelation and even to be creative
in the interpretation of truth. Unless this is so, the cord between revelation
and all other truth is cut, and we are left with completely arbitrary
faith-judgments or with a Spirit of Partiality who gives revelation to some
and withholds it from others. Man’s reason then cannot either create or
establish revelation. But reason can help “test the spirits” whether or
not they be of God. Similarly, by means of experience, history, and nature,
man cannot prove God, but God’s revelation can be self-authenticating in
terms of these, providing for us the only true light of what ultimately is,
what ought to be, and providing the road between them. God’s revelation
through events can therefore provide a meaningful total context for
interpreting our existence, values, and aims not only intellectually but
especially in terms of judgment and salvation.
Similarly,
neo-Calvinism is wrong in its denial of God’s presence and revelatory work
on the level of creation. Its transcendence does not allow for God’s both
being himself in a peculiar way and coming into history in his unique Presence
while also being present in man and history in a preparatory and pedagogical
way. This all-or-none view has too little understanding of the nature of
Spirit to remain one unit and yet be capable of different modes of adaptation
by means of which God creates and preserves inviolate the conditions for man’s
self-being and freedom.
The
main contribution of this group to higher education is the existentialist
grasp that truth in terms of ultimates or of over-all contexts is more
decisional than informational. It cuts to shreds the pretexts of an
objectivist, rationalistic metaphysics or of any system of ethics that fails
to see and to heed the fact that there is no presuppositionless thinking and
that in matters of total contexts, configurations, and dimensions of
knowledge we live more by faith than by knowledge. This genuine and vital
contribution we accept gratefully. All-or-none transcendence, however, pulls
down
the curtain of irrelevance between the Christian faith and higher education.
Higher education cannot by field or function deal with revelatory realities
within a merely redemptive context. It deals with a world of actualities and
problems which it must interpret and on which it must throw specific light.
There must be a real measure of continuity between revelation and education or
else they are unrelated. Complete or even basic continuity between them,
however, is not necessary. It is not even possible if revelation is on a
different plane from reason.
Neo-Calvinism
lacks contextual relevance (in terms of explanation) as well as a relevant
standard of judgment. There is no organic relation between revelation,
redemption, and creation or between faith and reason that allows for a
fruitful exchange between the Christian faith thus interpreted and higher
education. Brunner’s Christianity and Civilization comes the closest
to providing a meaningful focus for looking at the problems of
civilization and to offering concrete help. But even here Brunner fails to
make available a central Christian pattern and to depict over-all organic
relations. With his comparatively recent acceptance of agape as the
distinctive and determinative motif of the Christian faith, he is in position
to move into such relevance, but if he does, he will also leave with finality
a position to which he is even now only ambiguously related.
The
leading theological tendency of today has sacrificed far too much relational
truth to social and religious relativism. ‘When reason is repudiated, the
result is relativity among claimed authorities. Therefore there is no basic
hope for higher education from neo-Calvinism. There is much activity within
this position and many vital things are being said by its adherents about
higher education. But at its heart neo-Calvinism stands with fundamentalism
in creating an unbridgeable gulf of irrelevance between the Christian faith
and higher education.
III
Another
movement that has been gaining ground in recent years is the Lund school, the
kind of Swedish theology advocated especially by men like Gustaf Aulen and
Anders Nygren. This theological position is best known in America through
Aulen’s The Faith of the Christian Church and Nygren’s Agape and
Eros.
Nygren
shows us how Kant’s Copernican revolution of critical philosophy was
decisive for consequent thought. Critical philosophy after Kant was seen to
deal not with realms of ultimate reality but with principles of validity; not
with the region of the transcendent but with the reality of the
transcendental; not with a supernatural world beyond this one but with
necessities and universalities within experience and for experience. Critical
philosophy deals with the preconditions for experience, those necessities
without which experience itself is unthinkable. As unconditional
necessities, they are not beyond our realm of experience because they do not
exist, nor can they be in experience and remain unconditional; they
are rather the presuppositions unconditionally of and for experience.
Immanuel Kant found three such realms of experience: the theoretical, the
practical, and the aesthetic, each with its own kind of transcendental forms.
Not all normativeness for experience in his thought, therefore, was rational,
but there were different types of unconditional categories of and for
experience. Nygren accepts Kant’s position and builds on it. He goes back of
Kant’s analysis critically to a category of categories, to an ultimate unity
of logical necessity, “the category of eternity.” The all-inclusive,
ultimate presupposition of experience is, therefore, the religious category of
eternity.
This
category of the absolute presupposition for experience, however, is forever
inaccessible to rational metaphysics. Reason cannot deal with ultimate
reality, only with principles of validity; not with any transcendent realm,
but only with transcendental necessity. Therefore, according to Nygren’s
analysis, choice of ultimates must be made from within experience, from the
stuff of history. In history, choice must be made among religions that are
seen to be organic wholes, with centers from which each religion must be
understood. Each religion has a regulative pattern, an organic wholeness from
a center, a foundational pattern, or Grundmotiv in terms of which alone
its distinctive and determinative nature can be understood. The center of
Judaism is nomos, or law; of Hinduism, karma, or deed (and consequence); of
the Christian faith, agape, or God’s unconditional, spontaneous,
uncalculating, groundless love creative of fellowship, centered not in the
worth of the object but in the unceasingly forgiving nature of the Subject,
pictured most vividly in the forgiveness of and redemptive love for enemies.
The
task of Christian theology according to this method is not to build a system
of search for God from experience, not to construct a metaphysics nor an
apologetics but to find in history, by a faith-judgment which is invulnerable
to reason, the Grundmotiv of the Christian faith which actually is
agape, and to describe the implications of this motif as they have been
developed concretely by the faith of the Church throughout its history.
Theology according to the Lund school is as objective, scientific, and
intellectually acceptable as physics or biology. The theologian never judges
what is ultimate truth or reality, nor does he ever defend the faith
rationally, but merely describes it as competently as possible. No concrete
confession of faith as such can be proved necessary to history, but faith
itself is inescapable. Therefore, faith should choose true revelation by the
eyes of faith, but it should never make the mistake of thinking it can or
ought to be proved by reason. Can any method be more scholarly and congenial
to higher education?
The
strength of this position is obvious. Kant rightly pointed out that the
traditional arguments for God rested ultimately on the ontological in some
form, which simply assumed the identity of thought and being in line with
classical thinking. The evidence, however, does not support conclusively
such an assumption. Therefore, rational metaphysies in the traditional
sense, especially theological metaphysics, is impossible. At this point the
Lund school stands on firm ground. It also maintains correctly that faith
selects its religious content from history. Decision among historic
faith-judgments is determinative for faith. Practically always, however,
except in the case of the founders of new religions, the contents of faith are
found in concrete historical religions. The Lund school contends convincingly
that religions are organic in nature, having concrete centers from which they
must be viewed, and that therefore theology in a decisive sense is the
description of historic faiths from within their own distinctive and
determinative natures.
The
faults or shortcomings of this method are grave. As in the case of
neo-Calvinism, the method severs all rational relation between the
transcendent and the transcendental. The filling of “the category of
eternity” by content from history becomes entirely an arbitrary affair. We
are once again left with complete religious relativity in the realm of
knowledge. The living cord between religion and truth is cut. Consequently,
higher education is left with a choice for or against a religion that has no
rational claim on education and provides no empirical foundation for it.
Then
again, although the distinctiveness of faith is valuable for the contextual
ordering of knowledge and communication, the distinctiveness of the Christian
faith according to the Lund theologians consists in God’s revelation of
agape. This is a heavenly reality come into history. But no account is taken
of the realms of eros or philia (seeking and mutual love respectively), the
realms of our actual problems, and no way is opened to account for these
realms or to relate the heavenly to the historic. The relation is cut between
the realm of redemption and that of creation. The whole aim of the Lund school
is to distinguish the Christian faith at its own genuine center from all other
religions and human thinking, not to relate the faith by providing a
context of explanation, judgment, or renewal. Therefore, this method does
not lend itself naturally to become the framework of meaning for Christian
higher education, but it could if the aim of the method were to become
relational, contextual, and renewing.
It
should be added, moreover, that the new generation of scholars, with Gustaf
Wingren as their leader, are cutting off the philosophical preamble to
Lundensian method. Dew-fresh creations, moreover, are still possible
from within this movement. It has much to offer contemporary theology, but
apart from its radical reconception it is hard to see in it a real hope for a
full and organic relation to Christian higher education.
IV
Analytical
linguistic philosophy or verificational analysis is not theology! Even so, it
should be included because of its immense importance for both modern theology
and higher education. It has challenged us to a radical rethinking of
Christian language, method, and the relation of Christian faith to other
subjects in the curriculum. Incidentally, it has kept countless good students
from entering the ministry or has undermined the vigor of their faith. The
preministerial students have seen no way around its claims that theological
language, if not the whole enterprise, is meaningless.
Nevertheless,
we must understand this movement sympathetically. It seems to have arisen
primarily because the special sciences took over all the fields of knowledge.
In giving birth to and bringing up these children, philosophy made itself a
superannuated mother with nothing to do. For these thinkers, Kant’s cntical
philosophy debarred it from metaphysics; and plain humility (or loss of nerve)
kept it from tackling the job of synthesizing all the data from all the
sciences. Analytical linguistic philosophy that actually started as logical
positivism accepted as its premises that philosophy is empirically
uninformative, that it deals with meaning as its sole province, and that
meaning is not to be dealt with psychologically as the denotation of
particular words as such but logically within propositions. The task of
philosophy became the analysis of the meaning of language, for language was
its field and analysis its method. Meaningful truth, this position claimed,
must be either certain, that is, totally analytical or tautology, or probable
in terms of experienced sense data. Verification by sense data became a
basic principle, even a criterion, of true philosophy. The ideals of
mathematics in analysis and of inventory in the realm of experience underlay
the whole movement. It is nominalism carried to its full extreme. A. J. Ayer’s
Language, Truth and Logic, especially in the first edition, and
Ludwig Wittgenstein’s Tractatus Logico-Phiosophicus illustrate
generally the earlier stage of this point of view.
In
the second edition of his book (1946), Ayer has come out for a different kind
of verification principle. He now admits a permissible inference from sense
experience, such as the study of the past from manuscripts and all the
necessary inferences of modern physics. “Tough” verification has given way
to “weak” or “soft” forms of it. Wittgenstein, again, has shifted from
verification to “usage” philosophy in his posthumously published
Philosophical Investigations (1953). In this view, language is not so much a
convention to be cleansed by analysis as an organic growth which must be
considered for legitimate use. Verification is only one test and kind of
usage. The disciplines of analysis and verification, in other words, have
taken on wider contexts.
The
appraisal of this point of view in relation to Christian higher education is
not easy. It has done us all a service by cutting the ground from under a
rationalistic, objectivistic metaphysics which illegitimately assumed the role
of theology. It has also focused philosophy on its main task: the study of
meaning. But above all, it ought to help us cut down much unfounded and
foolish theological speculation. A flabby faith uses much slippery thinking.
Most Christian apologetics is too weak-minded and softhearted to pass the bar
of competent, fair-minded thinking. We should be well and lastingly rid of it.
On
the other hand, linguistic analysis provided a convenient refuge from the kind
of faith that is properly related to reason. Men seek concealment both against
and through their own knowledge. They found it in logical positivism and its
successors. One way of reasoning God away, for instance, was the following:
Certainty has to do with logical propositions or with analytical truth only;
all existential truth is contingent; therefore the claim that God exists, that
a necessary being exists, confounds logical categories and is literally
meaningless. Some even tried to prove the nonexistence of God by such logic!
Philosophical analysis, in the second place, also removed faith from truth,
religion from knowledge, and led to the full extreme, the split between the
realm of form or thought and the realm of fact or experience. This bifurcation
is perhaps the gravest cause today of our lack of religious and social
leadership in intellectual realms. Christian higher education with its need
for synoptic vision and contextual wholeness is therefore definitely
threatened by this severing of faith from truth and by this depicting of
religion as entirely arbitrary and not subject to knowledge and legitimate
education.
What
can we do about this position with reference to theology and higher education?
The answer is partly that it is itself changing, and becoming self-critical.
Its advocates need only keep on extending the realm of experience to be
explained far enough, and they will find themselves right in the midst of
theological problems and methods. The experience out of which the analysis
comes in the first place is contingent. Therefore the all-or-none split
between logical certainty and empirical probability is itself impossible for
human beings. With that insight, the brittle bifurcation withers at its
heart. Or we can show not only that we cannot experience “the whole,”
the world, God, or any other such category completely (one of the main
contentions against theology on the part of verificational analysis), but that
no scientific theory is ever experienced completely. The position has the
appeal of the cleanliness of limited data and of a preconceived and confined
method, but after its first, intoxicated blindness to the fuller problems of
truth, it is already beginning to sober up and will doubtless gradually
return to the central concerns of the relation of man’s meanings to his
existential problems. Christian educators can learn much from linguistic
analysis without being either floored by it as the destroyer of theology or
fooled by it as a revolutionary reorientation of man’s total knowledge.
V
Liberal
theology is presently under a cloud. It should not be so, more than others.
Its advocates were great in faith and scholarship. Little apology needs to be
made for old-line liberals like Walter Rauschenbusch, William Newton Clark,
William Adams Brown, and Edgar S. Brightman or for new-line liberals like John
C. Bennett, Robert Calhoun, and Walter Horton. Liberalism is characterized
by an openness of spirit that is urgently needed. My former colleagues, Roger
Shinn and Langdon Gilkey, have pointed out how dangerous can be the people who
pass from fundamentalism into neo-orthodoxy without the mellowing influence of
liberalism..
Liberalism
stands for fairness, for understanding and appreciation of positions other
than one’s own. Liberals at least profess to believe that we are to learn
from others, not just to oppose them. Liberalism stands also for unity of
truth both within and between all levels of it, as, for instance, between
faith and reason and between confession and conduct. Liberalism has also
evinced an emulative social concern. Men like Rauschenbusch, Washington
Gladden, and the Niebuhrs in their early years illustrate this natural
combination between the liberal emphasis on truth, reason, experience, love,
and social responsibility. Evangelicals of the middle of the nineteenth
century evinced both social vision and concern, but the overwhelming credit
for the acceptance of, the organic relation between Christian faith and social
ethics must be given to the liberals. For them social improvement, especially
through education, became second nature. ‘What are more important to
higher education than an open spirit, respect for truth, and concern?
Christian higher education owes a debt of gratitude beyond estimate to its
liberal spirits, even its radically nontheological liberal spirits like John
Dewey and Alexander Meiklejohn..
Liberalism
failed, all the same, because of its omissions and mistakes. Idealistic in
attitude, the liberals for the most part never took keenly enough to heart man’s
actual sinfulness. Therefore, they developed a theory of objectivity of
knowledge that fails to take into account the fact that, as far as ultimate
and personal involvements go, men tend to rationalize rather than to reason,
that is, to use reason primarily as a means of self-justification, defense,
and attack. “The cult of objectivity,” as we now see, was largely an
ideal. Men will not readily see the saving truth when it is also the demanding
judge. There was also a false continuity of method in liberalism where the
ultimate nature of faith (of there being, for instance, no presuppositionless
thinking in ultimate matters, of selective truth being more real than
aggregative truth, of decision often being more important than information to
education) was not clearly perceived and applied.
Nor
was there a vivid, positive zeal among most liberals. They were more
interested in fighting backwardness and narrowness than in paying the costly
price of positive zeal, particularly when this meant resolute opposition to
partial and killing causes. Liberals were too willing to please. They lacked
an effective principle of exclusion. To oppose, to refuse, to deny, to take
the persecution for the commitment to absolute causes—such decisive action
seems, to easygoing good will, to be intolerance. But at many of these points
the neoliberals have changed while also preserving some of the best features
of liberalism. We can hardly be thankful enough for its good points, but,
educationally, we never dare to forget that an absolute demands decision for
the pursuit of a certain course, no matter what. Educationally, too, growth is
mostly the persistent following of such a course.
VI
One
of the most important theological movements for Christian higher education is
neonaturalism. In one form or another this drive in theology is best
represented by men like Alfred North Whitehead, Daniel Day Williams, Henry
Nelson Wieman, Paul Tillich, and Rudolf Bultmann. These men accept the best in
science, and aim for adequacy of thinking through philosophy, acknowledging
besides the need for mystery as the penetrating counterpart and the constant
companion of knowledge. Whitehead, Wieman, and Williams believe that
religious thinking must wait on scientific data and philosophic interpretation
for intellectual adequacy. Tillich and Bultmann also insist that religious
knowledge must not be prescientific. For all, of them, the organic and
relational stress of knowledge is of critical importance. Religion as an
evaluative response to reality is part of personal, social, and cosmic
experience. The stress of the first three thinkers on the organic nature of
reality and of knowledge, on the fact that no subject can find its fullest
truth apart from the consideration of its relation to other subjects and to
the whole, on the togetherness of reality and of value, and on the synoptic
approach in general, have made their thought of inestimable importance to
higher education, while their stress on integrity of knowledge, life,
values, truth, and the religious life has resulted in the creation of a very
high form of religious thought.
Along
with Whitehead, Tillich is at ‘the very front of constructive thinking.
Tillich’s elucidation of the Christian faith, his expounding of philosophy,
his grasp of historical thought, his understanding of non-Christian religions,
his at-homeness in art and culture generally, his immersion in depth
psychology, and his capacity to communicate with even hostile spirits in a
secular university set him apart as a minister to higher education. Nathan
Pusey, president of Harvard, has related how completely Tillich won over a
group of Harvard professors who met him with pronounced skepticism with
regard to his religious position. Tillich is more than a profound thinker,
however; he is both a prophet and a systematic pioneer.
At a
time of confusion or regression in constructive thinking Tillich has forged
ahead with both deliberate care and accelerating speed. The center of his
position is the relation between the unconditional and the conditioned.
Religious reality is the dimension of the unconditional. God does not exist
as a Being among beings, but is the unconditional reality, nowhere existing as
such, yet everywhere available as the power to resist nonbeing and to make for
harmony of being. The central scene for Tillich is history, where meaning is
translated into concrete experience through freedom. Christ is the center of
history as the picture in history of the unconditional. Thus, essence and
existence meet in him, not in such a way that the unconditional becomes
conditioned but so that the conditioned becomes completely transparent to the
unconditional by the full acceptance of the right relationship between the
unconditional and the conditioned. The Cross is the symbol and power of this
relation; and the resurrection is the declaration in history of the victory in
life of eternity. Eternal life is the releasing and creative participation
in this reality. Love is the symbol that most fully explains and makes
available true power and justice.
Protestantism
is the realistic power for self-criticism and creative renewal.. The Church is
community in the full, inclusive sense revealed in Jesus as the Christ, but
all community, whether secular or non-Christian, exists and has its reality in
the true community of the Church as the representative of the Kingdom of God.
The theologian must live and think within the circle of a concrete religion,
but he lives also in the total life around him. Therefore, he mediates between
religious and secular thought. The secular world has enough moral and
spiritual sense even to be the conscience of the empirical Church which is
always tempted by idolatry and self-adulation. Between theology and the
secular world, therefore, there can be creative co-operation.
Tillich’s
theology relates itself exceptionally’ well, by its very nature, to higher
education. His exposition of the faith is centrally Christian in a descriptive
and creative sense. It has a piercing quality of firsthand insight. His faith
in the general presence of the logos provides us with unitive meaning and
synoptic vision without reduction of differences, and yet, even so, all
meaning is subject to the infinite mystery of the unconditioned. Few
theologians have fuller or truer appreciation of secular learning and
culture than Tillich.
Bultmaun
represents the existentialist kind of neonaturalism. Ontologically he is
basically at one, he claims, with existentialist philosophers like Karl
Jaspers and Martin Heidegger. The real difference between them consists in the
fact that, whereas the philosophers believe man can make a free, positive
decision, Bultmann understands that man must accept passively “by grace”
the working of God in human life. God is the power available to man in the
ultimate mystery of being who through man’s acceptance of grace can relieve
him of anxiety and give him a free decision for the future. Christ exhibited
this reality in the Cross and in the resurrection. These are not objective
events in the sense of bare, historic occurrences but are, rather, meaningful
events that can and should be re-enacted in the present in response to the
proclamation of the Gospel.
Christ
saves insofar as we know for ourselves the present reality of the losing and
finding of self by the overcoming of anxiety and the reception of faith freely
open to the future. Insofar as they are meaningful, past and future are both
part of the present tense, of the moment for acceptance. Those who have found
this reality of overcoming anxiety by a power not of themselves are “in
Christ,” “in faith”; what counts is the original reality of the
experience of Jesus and of his disciples. They interpreted these experiences,
to be sure, in objective, supernatural terms of a God beyond this world who
literally came to earth and paid for man’s sin by the shedding of his own
blood and by literally rising from death. Modern man trained in science,
Bultmann holds, rejects such primitive thinking, but the original rather
than the objective reality of the New Testament Gospel remains: “to
offer man an understanding of himself which will challenge him to a genuine
existential decision.”
The
early Church succumbed, however, to Stoicism and made a world-view out of the
Christian faith. This intellectualizing of the faith was a basic mistake. The
New Testament speaks genuinely of a Gospel of Christ’s death and
resurrection as the power of a new kind of life and community “in Christ”
or “in faith.” Weltanschauung is no part of the Gospel. Bultmann’s
theology, therefore, has no contextual capacity for higher education; its
power, rather, is to break down static structures of interpretation imposed on
experience in the past that hinder the creative activity of the spirit in its
constant need to appraise happenings, to decide concerning their significance,
and to provide freedom from anxiety and the motivational connection with “the
stream” of reality of which Bultmann speaks in his Essays,
Philosophical and Theological.
What
should be said of neonaturalism in its relation to Christian higher education?
Already we have stressed its high and significant relevance. We have also
emphasized how profoundly and seminally Christian it is on its descriptive
side, especially in the case of Tillich, and Bultmaun. Why, then, can we not
come to rest in the neonaturalist position? The real problem is created by
Christian theology and concerns the nature of transcendence. This term or its
obvious equivalents can be found in the writings of the men just mentioned.
None of these men is a humanist. Saving reality, God, is radically more than
human experience or effort. Nor are they reductionistic naturalists in the
sense of employing a limiting scientific method. The closest to such a view
of science is Bultmaun’s, but he goes beyond scientific naturalism in the
narrow sense even in his ontology. They all reject unequivocally, however, the
supernaturalism of Christian classical theology. God, for none of them, is the
supernatural creator, the self-sufficient ruler of plants and planets who is
other and more than the best we know both in human experience and in cosmic
description, the One who from beyond the world became incarnate in it, who
died for man’s sin in his full identification with man and who rose
victorious over sin, law, and actual death by the deathless power of his
supernatural love. Classical Christianity with its objective supernaturalism
can be treated as symbol or myth but never as factual history or as true
ontology. Tillich and Bultmaun are most emphatic on this point.
Is
this shedding of supernaturalism, however, not a riddance and relief for
honest faith and competent education? Does it not remove from the Christian
theology of today the largest false obstacle separating it from higher
education? Has not the demythologizing of the Bible been our biggest task for
several generations, now at length recognized and effected? Is it not also
true that many who confess to belong to other theological tendencies in fact
belong here ontologically? Modernity of assumption is more pervasive of the
inner man of education than appears on the surface of confession.
VII
Admittedly,
the real problem is not whether neonaturalism is genuinely biblical or
Christian in the historical sense. If it is true, we should all come to it.
Radical translation of terms is then justified and we have no right to accuse
these men of dishonesty in their use of them. Has not Kant, furthermore, made
it impossible ever again to show critically that supernaturalism is true? Kant
himself, of course, is a complex problem at this point, considering the whole
history of his writings, and to try to refute him easily is foolish, but the
following line of reasoning makes me believe that at its heart classical
Christian supernaturalism is not only biblical and historical but actually
true. At least, I find no equally convincing alternative for faith.
I
grant that along the usual lines of thinking, naturalism has a right to say
that any thought, experience, or fact, human or cosmic, may be defined as
natural. Aside from these facts, we can know nothing. What is revealed,
naturalists say, is only the fuller dimensions of human nature and of the
cosmos in which we live. In terms of human experience or thought as such,
therefore, there is no proving of a world beyond this one or of a being beyond
natural beings. Naturalists also have a right to say that trust in unexamined
revelation is completely arbitrary and eventuates in intellectual relativism,
a choosing of ultimates at will, without check or challenge from evidence or
reason. Along such lines of procedure the Kant of the first Critique remains
unanswered; and supernaturalisr~ is mere primitive thinking or, at most,
precritical philosophy.
There
are objective facts, however, that Kant was in no position to consider. We are
not left with the choice of either disavowing the cosmological proof entirely
or of assuming the ontological along with it. This Kantian cornerstone of
modernity is not hewn out of the granite of fact nor is it built on the marble
of reasonin~. The facts, according to science itself, are that we live in a
cosmic process that has come to be in the course of unimaginably long ages, by
means of new levels of development which, as they become added to previous
process, are found not only to fit into it organically but to fulfill it. To
believe that such an accumulative series of appearances that have added up to
an organic unity of the universe and of the universes has come to be and has
come together without cause and without reason is to believe in miracle with
unrestrained credulity. When there is added the astounding fact that from the
point of view of life, personality, and creative community (our relevant
data for the criterion of meaningfulness) this process is almost brand-new,
the abruptness of the process be-comes overwhelming.
However
many ways there are of approaching or of explaining these facts, they are
pivotal for any thinking concerning ultimates. They break all reductionistic
naturalisms except as these are accepted either as ignorant assumptions or as
credulous faiths. These facts also forbid all easy assumptions that the
description of present process best indicates the nature of reality. Such a
freezing of the process goes contrary to the overwhelming indication of
process as on the move, awaiting further development. There are, therefore,
solid facts which bridge the gap between the cosmological reasoning and the
ontological..
Where,
however, does this insight leave us? There is no returning to a
rationalistic inductive or deductive reasoning that “proves” God. Kant is
right that all reasoning from experience to ultimate ~reality does in the end
in some way use the ontological “proof.” Kierkegaard also correctly
contended that nothing relative (historical, ethical, or metaphysical) can
ever prove God. That the less certain should prove the more certain is
obviously logically false. Dorothy Emmet, therefore, in The Nature of
Metaphysical Thinking has properly dismissed deductive and hypothetical
analogies, retaining only those that are existential and co-ordinating.
However, she dismissed projective analogies too quickly. In case the
projective analogies are merely the absolutizing of something in history
which is obviously relative, Kant and Kierkegaard stand guard against such
projective thinking. When the actual bridge between cosmological and
ontological reasoning stands forth strong, then projective thinking changes
its intent, status, and effectiveness.
In
such a case, the entire problem is altered. To make no deliberate choice of
ultimates if a person is mature enough to make such choice, is to retreat from
reality and from responsible intellectual and religious leadership. But all thinkers
have assumed presuppositions, some posture toward reality, some
configuration of experience that indicates what they actually consider to be
most important and most real. The right response to reality is consequently
to have as true and effective an interpretation of ultimate reality and
meaning as possible. All must live by faith, the only question
is by what kind of faith they live. William James is right that there
are live, forced, and momentous options among which we must actually take our
choice.
Brand
Blanshard in his presidential address before the American Theological Society
in 1956, made a strong reply to William James, however, to the effect that it
is unethical ever to go beyond the facts or to make any leap of faith at all
not warranted by the facts, for such choice is actually the confusion of faith
with, or the substitution of faith for, knowledge. At this point, we all
have to be utterly scrupulous and critical. No leap into ultimates gives us
new knowledge, but such a leap may put us into position to receive new
knowledge from beyond present process. After all, new knowledge has come
into process in the past, and we are in no position to deny that new facts do
appear or that new insights might throw fuller or different light on ultimate
questions. Since no leap gives us knowledge, however, we can say no more than
that we must have some co-ordinating presupposition or presuppositions
for thinking, for the total configuration of life, and that therefore we
should choose the one that seems least arbitrary.
We
are then led back again to our facts concerning the origins of the world we
know. Not to acknowledge a creative ground of cause and reason behind, before,
or inexplicably within process which is more than present process and which
accounts the least arbitrarily for it, is to be facing the past by infinite
reduction or to be parochially frozen within the present. When our faith
stands on whatever best accounts in process for its development, its unity,
its meaning, and its fulfillment, it is the least arbitrary. Not that we have
therefore cleared up the mystery of~the new or of creation. But
transcendence becomes the least arbitrary content of our
faith if it can be shown to have organic relations to the other levels and if
it can be seen to explain inclusively the meaning of the total process with
the richest explanatory adequacy we can find.
Translated
into theological terms, this means that incarnation and eschatology are
primary to thinking. Knowledge of ultimates must be had from within experience
and process. God becomes man, enters human experience and process to reveal
himself. It means also that knowledge is eschatological in the sense that
incarnation points forward toward the consummation of creation. The
redemption of creation by means of incarnation takes place in time directed
toward the future. Such theology springs out of our actual knowledge
situation. We as Christians believe in the Incarnation, that God came in
Christ as the fullness of time. In such a case, eschatology becomes the
fulfillment inclusively of what has come once for all conclusively in Jesus as
the Christ. God is the personal Spirit who is holy love. We do not know him in
his eternal glory, but we do know him as such love from within our bounds of
time and space. Furthermore, it is important for education that the Holy
Spirit is biblically defined as the Spirit of truth. When God came in Jesus
Christ as the personal Spirit who is holy love, he came as the personal event
that is also the center of meaning. The living Christ then becomes the
context, judge, and transformer of all knowledge. If this is correct theology,
how does our analysis refer to all the contemporary tendencies we have
described and evaluated?
VIII
In
the light of our analysis we can see that it is possible to keep the
fundamentalists’ emphasis on “evangelical supernaturalism” without their
obscurantist literalism of biblical inspiration and of propositional
revelation that shuts them off from the open inquiry of higher education. We
should also rejoice in the neo-Calvinist stress on the transcendence of God
and on his revelation in event, particularly in the history of salvation and
in the Christ, without accepting its pitting of redemption over against
creation, and event over against meaning. As a protest movement to establish
the primacy of the transcendence of God and of his self-revelation in the
Word, we have needed this movement, but now it is time to see how
transcendence and incarnation are related to God’s ubiquity and to his
work in creation and history. The Lund school of theology can teach us about
the distinctiveness of the Christian faith by means of its dominant and
determinative motif, agape, and the need for patience and critical care in the
description of what is truly Christian, but we need not with them deny to
reason its proper place of interpreting and of relating the faith. If we
release the full power of the Christian faith, however, we shall in all three
of these movements find a classical Christianity which, while remaining
itself, can be related both contextually and motivationally to the needs of
Christian higher education.
In
the case of the last three movements discussed – linguistic analysis,
neoliberalism, and neonaturalism – the problem has been a forfeiting of the
transcendence, or the distinctiveness of the Christian faith. We have seen,
however, how it is possible competently and honestly to go beyond the
strictures on faith inherited from Kant. We share with the linguistic analysts
their revulsion toward slippery Christian apologetics, and we covet their
drive for cleanliness of thought. We believe, too, that the day of an
ohjective, rationalistic metaphysics as a legitimate approach to ultimate
questions is over, but we know that the position of linguistic analysis is the
extreme illustration of a false bifurcation between thought and fact and that
fact cannot be tied down to sensationalism. We are therefore hopeful that
beyond their function as a cleansing fire, the linguistic analysts will become
creatively constructive within the bounds of their genuinely critical
insights.
The
liberals need to encourage us to openness of spirit, breadth of view, and
unity of truth both in thought and in life. Their accommodation of spirit
makes for co-operative inquiry with those in higher education, but we need not
on that account lose decisiveness of truth or distinctiveness of theological
method.
The
naturalists we have already appraised by means of our own constructive
analysis. What they lack is an effective method for understanding of, and
pointing to, adequate and effective transcendence. They, above all others,
are offering higher education relevant stimuli and contextual suggestions.
Whitehead’s influence should grow in the field of higher education, and
there are some indications that it is growing. Tillich’s The Dynamics of
Faith shows how much a dynamic and creative religious thinker can offer
motivationally as well as intellectually to Christian higher education. We
share with these thinkers their horror for an arbitrary revelationism,
unsupported by genuine data or by reasoning from within the processes of our
modern educationa} activities. These processes can be opened up to the truth
of classical Christianity precisely by the use of legitimate reasoning about
the facts already established by modern educators. We need primary thinkers
for this task..
Creative
Christian higher education is a noble challenge during these days of rapid
intellectual and cultural transition.. No facile solution will do and no fixed
formula will ever satisfy the constantly dynamic enterprise of education. I
am convinced, however, that a new age of constructive leadership for
civilization can come if we appropriate the universal truth of the Christian
revelation in Christ and apply this with both experimental caution and bold
creative courage to the ever expanding and deepening problems of higher
education. Only such a constructive undertaking can entitle us to use the
term Christian higher education.
Nels
Ferre. 1961. “Higher Education and Values,” Chapter 19, In
Searchlights on Contemporary Theology, New York: Harper and Brothers.
Used by permission.
I
THE
crisis of our times is the crisis of values. The Harvard anthropologist Clyde
Kluckhohn is only one strong voice in a mighty chorus thundering this truth.
Values indicate how we try to meet our needs. Human needs are what human
nature requires. Our basic needs are universal to human nature. Human needs,
as Rignano observed long ago, are also the expression of the necessity for
human beings to be in the right relationship to their environment. They are,
in fact, elicited by that environment. Therefore human needs reflect, beyond
their own nature, the nature of the reality that produced them. The
understanding of what human values are, consequently, involves the
interpretation and the evaluation of what is beyond man. Inasmuch as
religion is man s evaluative response to reality, the right religious
response offers the answer to our crisis of values. What chance is there,
however, that the nature of such a response can be established, and, if
established, made?
Higher
education is itself in a state of crisis. It is, at least, undergoing
drastic reexamination. Many of those responsible for charting its course are
in a flexible mood. They are ready for change. Development requires
reappraisal, the discarding. of unfortunate features of present practice and
the discovery and incorporation of new methods and contents. For such
constructive change, there is great pressure. One force for change is the
inescapable fact of failure on the part of the present kind of democratic way
of life in America to meet the demands of a new era, within and without. In a
television series, for instance, in which outstanding Americans weighed the
strength of their national life in its major areas, there was a frightening
consensus that Americans are falling short of the requirements of the present
day. Such searching judgment, however, can also be the proper prelude to a new
fulfillment. A second force for the renewal of higher education is the focus
of attention and of effort which is now put upon it all the way from the
federal government and secular agencies to the National Council of the
Churches of Christ in the U.S.A. and separate denominations. Our present
topic, “Higher Education and Values,” therefore combines two main areas of
concern.
In
order to furnish a constructive approach to the subject, I shall focus our
attention on three areas of need: the trusting of truth; the freedom of
fulfillment; and the creation of community.
The
thrust of Western civilization originated in the trusting of truth. For the
Hebrews, such faith meant obeying the source of. trust, the living God. He was
the author of dependable order. “Shall not the judge of all the earth do
right?” Is not his judgment the plumb line of righteousness? The authors of
the Books of Kings were the first historians of note; and for them history
exhibited the faithfulness of God in punishing the wicked rulers and their
nations and in rewarding the righteous. For the Greeks, also, the trusting of
truth underlay their rise to creative civilization from Parmenides’ equating
of thought and being through various approaches to the trustworthiness of
reason, such as Anaxagoras’ identification of mind and reality, up to the
magnificent systems of Plato and Aristotle. With the Greeks, it was reason and
natural knowledge that delivered them from bondage to fate or from the
fickleness of the gods. For the Hebrews, the trusting of truth was mainly
obedience to a faithful God; for the Greeks, such trusting was largely the
acceptance of the regularities in thought and nature disclosed by reason.
The
strength of the Hebrew and Greek heritages combined to provide the proper
precondition for the rise of art, culture, and science in the Middle Ages.
Both history and nature were dependable orders under God and according to
the laws of nature. Augustine’s City of God gave main focus to Western man’s
thought concerning the meaning of history up through the Middle Ages, and
Roger Bacon formulated one of the early statements to the effect that man
trusted God’s faithfulness in nature. Within such an outlook, intellectual,
aesthetic, and scientific creativity burst forth.
Such
faith in truth, however, was soon assailed. In effect, Isaac Newton reduced
the historical order to the natural, thus helping to destroy faith in the God
of history. David Hume separated both orders from the truth of pure reason,
reserving truth for logic and pure mathematics, and introducing a radical
skepticism as to any dependable and significant knowledge in the other realms.
Instead of the knowledge of history and of nature belonging together under
God and according to reason, there was for him no certain knowledge of either,
especially not as wholes. More and more, thereafter, knowledge began to
disintegrate into fragments of special sciences to the point where, as in
modern linguistic philosophy, only abstract analytical meaning carried
certainty, while this realm itself became totally divorced from the realm of
fact, and all facts relegated by rigid, methodological rules to the special
sciences. In other cases, the unity underlying history and nature was stated
in terms of myths and symbols so loosely and thinly related to reality that
they beclouded the mind and lamed the will.
We
need, indeed, to return to a trusting of truth in both areas of history and
nature. But such a return seems nearly impossible. We cannot will it. Mere
reason is impotent to provide basic faith. What hope is there, then, for a new
creative era to match the unprecedented demand of our day?
Our
deepest need, we recall, indicates the nature of reality. Our evaluative
response should therefore be in line with our deepest need as men. Clemens E.
Benda, in his significant work, Der Mensch im Zeitalter der Lieblosigkeit, has
pointed out that from within a false evolutionary presupposition we have
defined need in the direction of what lies below man. Man’s animal needs, so
to speak, for physical survival and satisfaction have been made central: food,
sex, and shelter, whereas man capuot be understood except on his own level, as
a person and as a society in need most centrally of love. The Harvard Research
Center in Altruistic Integration and Creativity, under Pitirim A. Sorokin,
has amassed evidence to support this contention, and some social scientists
are convinced that love is the context for the investigation of human
behavior.
However
significant such inquiry and such statements may be for theory, indicating
evaluative responses to reality to be centrally love, the Hebrew Christian
approach to love through acceptance and obedience is nevertheless the only way
to know love as the power to transform life and to make possible the trusting
of truth in history. If God is love and if love to be known must be obeyed, a
century of lawlessness, crime, and wanton destruction in war should make it
almost impossible for its generations to know him, at least not apart from
genuine repentance and a change of ways. Only by the doing of the truth and
even by the being of it can truth be known enough to be trusted; otherwise, it
has to be known mainly by the breach of it as sterility, futility, and sense
of guilt and meaninglessness.
Such
obedience in history, however, can never take the place of trusting the truths
of reasoned experiment in nature. The faithfulness of God in nature
underlies the unity of the universe, which is the basic presupposition of
science. The method of science is a sign of the trusting of truth. Higher
education, to make possible full focus on the truths of history and of nature
that can support and produce basic values, must rediscover a way to place our
culture under obedience to God and under respect for reason, until combining
and developing our Christian and our Greek heritages, we shall receive that
sensitiveness to what is vital that shall let the values arising from our
deepest needs spring once again to creative and robust life.
II
In
addition to the trusting of truth a syndetic value is the freedom of
fulfillment. No higher education can succeed if it fails to release the kind
of freedom that is the foundation of a large cluster of secondary values like
responsibility, initiative, and creativity. Our American culture has been
cradled in liberty, nurtured in initiative, and it should mature in creative
responsibility.
The
denial of man’s freedom is by now an old story. But our attention has
usually been focused on the institutional and social denial of freedom. We
have become increasingly aware of political totalitarianism and cultural
conformism. Higher education, however, has contributed its share to the
denial of freedom. By its absorption with the objective fields in the
curriculum, whether in the natural or in the social sciences, higher education
has turned man himself into an object. The natural sciences, of course, should
study man as an object. But as a subject in the curriculum, the social
sciences placed man under the control of predictable conditions, purporting
to study the whole man but actually reducing him to an object. Thus was “the
subject” made “subject to.” Then philosophy (in large sections of its
domain), as Paul Tillich pointed out in his Lowell Lectures (Boston, 1958),
reduced the subject of man’s thinking to a matter of linguistic analysis,
and man himself to a sheer object for scientific verification.
Existentialism
came as a revolt against this objectification of man. Soren Kierkegaard choked
under the suffocating systems that made man an object. For him, subjectivity
was truth, and choice was the only road to reality. Existentialism has now
become a movement of revolt in literature and drama as well as in philosophy
and theology. Central to this movement is its demand that man recognize his
inescapable freedom. Such stress is one step on the return to reality, but
most of the movement is guilty of the perversion or the belittling of freedom.
The freedom advocated by existentialism is for the most part man’s immature
freedom of self-expression. Such freedom is rooted in man, not in his
evaluative response to reality. Because it has no recourse to the conditions
of the freedom of fulfillment, modern existentialism nearly always fails to
find God, through whom truth can be trusted both for history and for nature.
Freedom therefore becomes largely the despairing responsibility of a faithless
generation.
The
only adequate answer to existentialism is the fulfillment of its demand for
the centrality of choice by the discovery of the kind of reality where choice
not only is real and responsible but is capable of individual and social
fulfillment. If freedom itself is not optional, as the existentialists rightly
observe, the road to reality must lie through freedom. When freedom is
conceived of as primarily for the self, there is no realm of reality in
terms of which the freedom of the self can be fulfilled. Freedom becomes
meaningless and frustrating. The reason existentialists like Jean Paul
Sartre find all roads leading nowhere is that the goal toward which they start
is already the self. They have nowhere to go with their freedom.
The
freedom of self, at the least, must lie in our common humanity. Man must be an
object of allegiance. Instead of other people “being hell,” as Sartre
dramatizes in No Exit, a fact for those who make their own freedom both
ground and goal, other people should be understood and experienced ~is
essential to self-fulfillment. Christianity and Hinduism join in affirming
that other people, rightly understood and accepted, are part of our own body,
not to be hated but to be loved. Martin Heidegger, we have seen, has expanded existentiell,
or individual human nature, into existential, or common human
nature. This way lies the truth of right existentialism. Freedom is real and
decision is central both to knowledge and to reality, not as the freedom of
the limited, isolated self, but as the freedom of the inclusive, social
self. The glory of man is the glory of his common humanity; the
responsibility of man is the inescapable freedom of man, the human
community.
Moreover,
as self-fufillment comes only through the acceptance of others, in the grace
of both common receiving and responsible doing, so the freedom of fulfillment
comes only through the reaching of reality. Man’s freedom is inescapably
bound up with God’s freedom, whose freedom is that of creative concern for
the common good. Man is not alone even in the frightful choices of this day,
except as he repudiates his Maker. Our own freedom is authentic, for it is the
gift of a faithful God, but it need not become the freedom of frustration
except as we ignore or defy the common good. We may have, for the receiving
and the living of it, the freedom of fulfillment where freedom for
self-fulfillment is liberated within co-operative community and where man’s
basic need for love is lifted up into the reaches of the ultimate reality of
the freedom of God. A basic task for higher education, especially in our day
of frustrating and dehumanizing conformism is to discover as well as to
defend, to enlarge as well as to perpetuate, to sensitize as well as to make
available, the total range of freedoms in all areas of life, without which man
neither knows nor attains authentic existence.
III
The
trusting of truth should lead to the fulfillment of freedom both by a larger
view of God and by the acceptance of his universal will, and also by the
fuller exploration and use of the natural order for the common good. For these
values, as our evaluative response to reality at the center of our common
need, are themselves consummated by the concern for community. It is
unnecessary for our purposes to paint in large the conflict of our age between
the surviving drives of a profane individualism and an obscene collectivism.
Both are sins against God, for whatever else the Christian doctrine of the
Trinity may mean, at its center it proclaims the truth of God’s identifying
himself conclusively with the individual in the Son, and with the community in
the Spirit. In the biblical teaching, one cannot be had apart from the other.
Man is neither free nor full apart from the self-acceptance which involves
altogether the acceptance of the total human community under God.
To be
sure, such community must begin at home. The wise know that the world will be
changed in the family and that a new age must begin in the local community.
There are those who grow eloquent concerning the breaking down of barriers and
the building of bridges on a world-wide scale because they cannot govern
themselves, because they have failed in their own family life, and because
they are irresponsible in the concrete instances of social need. Beyond this
obvious requirement of authentic life at home, however, there are three areas
of critical demand calling for the creation of community: race, nation, and
religion.
Whether
in South Africa or in the United States, whether in London or in Fort Wayne,
race comes as a curse because it expresses as well as symbolizes man’s
revolt against God. God created us with the glory of diversity; we fear what
is different and defame God’s glory. For the problem of race there is no
easy solution because it is not only rooted in our primitive passions but also
intertwined with our relation to God. The only adequate solution for it is the
power of God who created, contagious with the richness of our common humanity.
Once when I was invited to address a law school in the southern United States,
as I opened my Bible my eye happened to fall on two verses across the page
from each other: “The courts are open” and “They were filled with the
Holy Spirit.” The values of God’s diversity in creation by racial variety
can become understood and appropriated only when the meaning and purpose of
both law and love become effective in a new level of humanity. Higher
education fails both God and man unless it can produce the power for the
living of a new age in racial relations.
As
our response to race indicates our fear of creative diversity, so our response
to the urgent need for supernational loyalties and arrangements witnesses to
our limiting of God to national regions.
We
have failed of the maturation that is now needed to keep pace with God’s
present summons. Nations have had their necessary day as the largest practical
unity of human organization, possessive of effective sanctions. Some kind of
world federation, keeping intact such regional and national freedoms as are
consistent with, and enriching of, the common good, will have to come if the
world is not to perish by its own hand, or at least not to bleed itself into
ignoble and blasphemous impotence. Norman Cousins has prophesied the probable
ending of our course of history unless man can rise with necessary speed from
the age of barbarism, symbolized by war, to the age of civilization,
symbolized by a new level of co-operative living. No education is high, let
alone higher, unless it include as a contagious passion and a sober
responsibility the values
of
one world in international relations.
Furthermore,
as our negative response to race rejects God’s riches in diversity and as
our isolating or insolent response to nation indicates our limiting in our
loyalties the effective reign
of
God, even so, our encountering of other religions is all too often an escape
from the universality of God. Symmachus long ago, in discussing the relation
of religion, informed Ambrose that so great a mystery cannot ever be reached
by following one road only, and recently Dean Inge reminded us that there are
many paths leading to the hill of the Lord and that the paths converge only at
the top. Modern humanity has no choice except to face the fact that the world’s
religions will confront each other either for conflict or for fulfillment. If
Christ is, as Christians claim, the symbol and the substance of God’s
universal love, Christians should surely understand and accept all religions
at their best, working out with them, humbly and patiently, the common destiny
of the many roads which men have started toward the hill of the Lord. There
need be no guess that as they do so they will discern much new beauty and
learn not a little of God’s way in history and in nature. Higher education
dare not accept any longer, on the penalty of sin against humanity as well as
against God, what Ruth Benedict considers the absolutes of anthropological in-groupism
rather than the true universal of a common humanity under God, united by its
common need for universal love and creative community.
Higher
education today confronts, at the center of its task of reconstruction, the
nature and place of value. The crises of both civilization and of higher
education converge here. If our analysis is right, the solution for both areas
can come only as we learn to trust the truth, to find the freedom of
fulfillment, and to release the creation of community. The trusting of truth
requires the doing of truth. The will of God for the common good must be
obeyed if it is to be convincingly known. Upon such doing of truth, the
reliability of reason as a total context for the study of nature will once
again begin to be restored to us. Upon such doing of truth depends also the
finding of the freedom of fulfillment which makes the self whole, and releases
the deeper freedom of our common humanity within the overarching reaches of
God’s concern for the total good. And the crowning glory of such trusting of
truth and of such freedom of fulfillment will be the creation of community
from the family circle of the local home to the whole family of God, in race,
in world order, and in the richly diversified reaches of religion for one
world.
The
attention of America today is on her leaders of higher education as they not
only inquire into the nature of value but labor to release the most authentic
values both to satisfy the common need and to whet the appetite for that
fuller craving for what is good, which lies at the center of what is best
called the truly human.
Nels
Ferre. 1961. “The
Church-Related College and a Mature Faith,” Chapter 20,
In Searchlights on Contemporary Theology, New York: Harper and
Brothers. Used by permission.
THE
Church-related college is of primary importance both for the Church and for
education. For the Church, it can be pointed out that a main reason for
the vigor of the American Church in contradistinction to the British and the
Swedish, for instance, is the fact that, in both of these latter, leaders of
thought in the Church have been generally overawed by the paralyzing power of
secular thinkers. Both Britain and Sweden give their theological degrees
through state-controlled institutions of higher learning. These secular
institutions determine almost sovereignly what are to be regarded as criteria
for truth as well as the patterns for what is properly accepted as legitimate
knowledge.
In
both instances, the leaders of science and philosophy, with few exceptions,
have espoused theories of knowledge not only dampening to the faith but
destructive of it. I have personally observed the blighting force of secular
university influence. The point of view held by the secular university is
regarded almost with religious reverence. It is final truth! In America,
however, institutions of learning independent of such secular ones keep
calling the bluff of these secular scholars, whose theories often spring out
of their presuppositions and their presuppositions all too often out of their
basic approach to life. Depth of learning and vigor of thought have helped the
Church tq accept the truth of its faith without the constant internal bleeding
that results when it is secretly, at least halfway, assumed by the Church
leaders that their faith, although good and high, is not in fact true.
For education,
on the other hand, the Church-related college has helped the secular
university. Surveys made of the background of scientists and of scholars
generally in leading American institutions of higher education have
indicated surprisingly that these come out of all proportion from the small
Church-related colleges, if that term is taken to mean colleges with a general
Christian background of contemporary concern. There is a motivation present
in the Church-related colleges that gives the drive of senousness to young
scholars. Faith generates creativity. These scholars may later disavow the
form of their erstwhile faith, but all the same they owe to their background
much of the drive which has put them in the position of leadership. This
situation with regard to the small liberal-arts colleges, giving birth to
prominent scholars who then generally stay in the secular institutions,
parallels the raising up of the majority of the Christian ministry by the
conservative churches. These persons then go on to become educated Christian
leaders who generally hold a more intellectually mature faith than the
communities which reared them.
To
the fact of the demonstrated importance of the Church-related college must be
added that now on a nationwide scale in America, even in secular education,
there is an intensive focus of thinking and support directed to higher
education. Along with this general undertaking to strengthen materially higher
education, there is also right now intensive denominational and
interdenominational emphasis on Christian higher education.
I
The
role of the Church-related college is obviously twofold: It is an agent of the
Church; it is a servant of higher education.
The
Church-related college is nothing less than the Church in education. The
Church-related college is the Church at work educationally. It is the Church
learning; it is the Church expressing its faith in terms of knowledge and in
relation to knowledge; it is the Church communicating its faith.
In
the first place, the Church must find its faith. In one sense, to be sure, the
faith of the Church is given once for all. In Jesus Christ, the Church has the
abiding anchor of its faith. The Church that does not confess centrally that
Jesus Christ is Lord is not Christian. Christ defines the Church and gives it
reality. But in another sense, the faith must ever be discovered afresh.
Gustaf Wingren, a weighty Swedish theologian, has said that the permanent
task of the Church is to relate the Bible to the world, or as he puts it, the
constant work of the Church in education is to carry on a dialectic between
hermeneutics and anthropology. Hermeneutics, as he uses the term, expresses
the constant requirement to look afresh at the basic interpretation of the
Bible in the light of the needs of a concrete age; while anthropology, in his
terminology, stands for the constant need to view man’s understanding of
himself in the light of the Bible. Thus, both the Bible and each age have need
of continual confrontation of each other by the believer who participates both
in the Christian community and in the thought patterns of his age. In this
profound sense the Church is continually finding its faith, and the best place
for so doing is within its own institutions of higher education.
But
the Church needs also to confess its faith within the thought patterns which
are most real to it; and within the forms that most clearly and forcefully
express its faith. No believer or community of faith can be at its best until
the reality by which it lives can be put into such natural expression and used
so meaningfully in worship that the faith itself becomes its own best
recommendation. In one sense, the faith should become such a sound
background for study that it forms a context for thought, a context that is
taken for granted.
Our
highest faith is our presupposition; no presupposition, moreover, activates
vigorous thought until it gives a steady perspective to our universe of
knowledge. Faith should co-ordinate as well as motivate inquiry. Well has
Goethe said that the believing ages are the creative ages. Even when Alfred
North Whitehead maintains that, on the whole, it is the unstable ages that are
the epochs most productive of high faith, he means not that such high-grade
experience results from uncertainty or from confusion, but rather, that it
results from the searing need to rethink what is assumed in the light of the
welter of new evidence and new thinking. The task of the Church-related
college is to facilitate the confession of faith. It is ever to reformulate
the faith in terms of its foundation, with constant reference to the
experience of the believing community. When this is done effectively, the
foundation itself is understood afresh and the experience of the community of
faith is cleansed and strengthened.
Besides
finding and confessing its faith, the Church-related college must learn how to
communicate it. No faith is mature until it knows how to live in its
environment, however secular, without either hostility or conformity. Such
maturity comes from the kind of security people have who know not only what
they believe and why, but also how to communicate it to nonbelievers. Such
communication depends upon an integrity of community experience within which
it is possible to feel oneself into the very lives of those who reject the
faith. The community must be able to become involved with the world, to
enter into its inmost feelings of anxiety and self-assertion, without forfeit
of its own confession. To do so, the Church-related college should learn how
to make use of the signs and symbols that express the wider and the more basic
faith of the outside world and to create symbols of communication of its own
that will reach the nonbelieving community, whether this be the secular
university or the more amorphous field of the general public.
To
carry on this work of finding, confessing, and communicating a mature faith
the Church-related college must be, to use Clarence Cranford’s phrase, a
fellowship of the unashamed. It must be a community of commitment to the
Christian faith. The ideal, of course, is to have the whole of the
administration and the whole faculty continuously aware of the commitment
involved in being a Church-related college. The Church-related college is in
purpose a community of Christian administrators and teachers. In any case, it
is failing its distinctive task unless it has an administration definitely
aware of its nature and committed firmly to its task, and unless a large group
of the instructors are actively and intelligently concerned with the primary
purpose of the college. A Church-related college without a Christian faculty
fel,lowship is a misnomer.
But
the Church-related college is not only the agent of the Church, the Church at
work in education; it is also, on the other hand, the representative of higher
education. Neither task can be subordinated to the other. The Church-related
college must, by circumstance, serve two masters. Each master has full right
over its servant. The Church-related college assumes inescapably this twofold
task.
With
reference to higher education, the college should have unswerving allegiance
to truth. Its intellectual integrity needs to be beyond question. The task of
higher education is to find, to formulate, and to communicate truth in
general. It is to find truth for the sake of life. Knowledge must be sought
with inviolable honesty; yet knowledge is also pursued with concern for life.
Man is not in the educational enterprise for the sake of some unrelated,
abstract ideal of knowledge; he is in education to solve his problems in the
light of dependable knowledge. For this reason, in legitimate education, no
bias can be presupposed that determines the conclusions beforehand. Whatever
faith lays binding hands on truth is false. It is no use at all to say that
all thinkers have presuppositions and that, therefore, the Christian has a
right to his own. Mature faith is rooted and grounded in truth. Unless man has
the capacity for some real measure of finding and bowing to truth not of his
own believing or making, faith is the arbitrary shouting of seekers lost in
the dark.
This
integrity of service to higher education involves the requirement that the
Church-related college enjoy freedom of inquiry, of thought, and of
expression. No Church body or Church-appointed
trustees should dictate the intellectual conclusions of faculty members. No
faith is real that must live at the expense of truth. No creed is worth
holding that can live only by the
suppression
or the distortion of facts. No confssion is worth teaching that cannot endure
hard reasoning. Even pressure, however subtle or indirect, on the faculty to
conform to the Church’s
faith
rather than to whatever truth it finds precludes a genuinely open inquiry.
The
faculty must dare to criticize freely its own faith. At the same time it must
be committed to the Church it serves. The Church-related college serves these
two masters. Each is’ sovereign
in
its own sphere. There is a direct relation of the college as an educational
institution to God. It does not need to serve God only as a part of the
Church. It need not come to its finding
within
the presuppositions of its Church’s theology. God has created the world and
works in it. The Church-related college, as college, stands in a direct
relation to God within the order of
creation.
The
Church, however, sees everything first of all in the light of Christ. Its
temptation is therefore to telescope truth into a means of salvation. It tends
to contract the order of creation into the order of redemption. But the
college as an institution of higher learning deals with vast fields of
knowledge, like chemistry and astronomy, where Christ and the Church have no
direct relevance. Whatever ultimate relevance these fields may have is a task
for theology to work out and is not the direct responsibility of the college.
It finds and teaches the facts. When the facts of the order of creation,
however, seem to do away with faith, the faculty must wrestle honestly with
such a situation, with no compulsion from those who employ them, provided the
faculty members recognize genuinely the primary purpose of the Church-related
college to be the Church at work in education.
High
religion and high education are basic needs for any creative culture. In the
work of the Church-related college the two are wed. Marriage of independently
influential partners offers occasion for strong tensions. Such tensions are
altogether likely within the work of the Church-related college. They are, in
fact, salutary, provided that the tension be constructive. Such crosscurrents
should be the occasion for the growth of a zestful, creative community.
II
The
role of the Christian college in its aim to produce a mature faith is
therefore, basically, to be both a community with the Christian faith as its
presupposition and a community of learning with a completely open method of
inquiry. Such a commitment to two masters is impossible unless the Christian
faith is also true. If it is not, there can be no authentic Christian
colleges. My own conviction is that the Christian faith centers in the reality
of Christ as God’s universal love and in the Holy Spirit of truth. If Christ
and the Holy Spirit are made central to the Church-related college, what
results is a community of concern and integrity. The Christian faith stands or
falls with the faithfulness of God for all and with the dependability of the
Holy Spirit as the guarantor of freedom in the truth. My own experience is
increasingly that discipleship and scholarship need not conflict but can give
that background of constructive tension that makes it ever necessary to
re-examine the faith and to keep it alive and fresh. The more the
Church-related college becomes the community of integrity and concern, the
more it will serve well both of its primary functions.
To be
sure, this will involve a constant dialogue with the Church at large as to the
nature of a mature faith. The Church-related college should serve as the mind
of the Church. It should be the intellectual conscience of the Church. The
mind by its very nature is restive. The feelings, on the other hand, flow in
accustomed channels of satisfaction. They are basically conservative, while
the mind transcends the present. It sees what can be and what ought to be. It
sees different possibilities. It keeps the self unsatisfied, ever solving
problems, ever adjusting itself to new situations. The mind of a community
should stir that community out of its false self-satisfactions and
self-securities. The mind of the Church stirs up the Church creatively and
constructively. For those who live on the accumulation of the past, new ideas
often come as the threat of the new and the untried. The Church generates much
thought based on a false attachment to past ways of doing or of thinking. Much
of its thinking is due to an uninformed devotional attitude that is not always
wise. The Church therefore creates or constructs much thought that cannot
stand the light of vigorous criticism. For this reason it needs the critical
work of its mind, the Church-related college. The mind, if free to do so,
insists upon a self-consistency that eliminates intellectual discrepancy or
moral inconsistency, but, in fact, hurts as it helps. Then the Church-related
college has a most important function to perform, however unpleasant its work
may be for many in the Church..
To be
sure, the Church-related college should also be willing to listen. Often,
thought is advanced more lightly by those not in direct responsibility for the
life of the institution. Often, the conservative feelings are right and need
to be heeded. Thus, with regard to the need for arriving at a mature faith,
the Church-related college and the Church need to carry on a constant
dialogue. Because of the divergence of function there arises all too often a
strong, if not bitter, anti-intellectualism in the Church and a determined
anti-ecclesiasticism in the college. These are the false by-products of a
necessary process of mutual co-operation within divergent functions.
The
Church-related college must also, on the other hand, carry on a determined
dialectic with the secular university. This dialectic is particularly needed
with regard to religious data and religious interpretations. The secular
university has its function within the general providence of God. The secular
institutions of higher learning are of immeasurable help to the
Church-related colleges because of their constant challenge of the theological
bias on. the part of those committed to the Christian faith. The world is
better off for having secular universities, or at least for having public
institutions of higher education not under any kind of Church control or
dominating influence. But no subject is without presuppositions, and often
the subjects taught in the universities have as their. presupposition
assumptions prejudicial to the Christion faith. Science, for instance, can
be turned from a method into a metaphysics. When this is done covertly, the
danger is great.
A
naturalistic metaphysics often becomes a dominant theology, an idol, simply on
some such false ground as that science is the only road to truth. Even when
such a claim is made openly, it
is
dangerous, both to the faith of the faculty and to that of the students. When,
however, it is simply assumed, the hurt is incalculable. The Church-related
college in such a case needs to have representatives who, with utmost
competence and integrity, will show the limits of efficacy on the part of the
scientific method, without in any way appealing to arguments of ignorance in
favor of religion.
Similarly,
the social sciences may become messianic and pseudoreligious, claiming to be
the main road to effective truth. Such claims put forward by able professors
of university graduate schools who teach the instructors of the Church-related
colleges and its graduate students, or who write the textbooks, may put the
stamp of an ineffective religion on instructors or students for life. The
Church-related colleges should then have the voice of the deeper wisdom, which
appreciates and accepts all truth in science and social science, but which
sees both the proper limits of their fields and the limited nature of their
pronouncements. Psychology, for instance, may put forward a theory of
determinism which is true for limited data and for definite purposes, but
which becomes destructive of moral and social responsibility if really acted
upon, and which contradicts the very meaning of the Christian faith, not
because the claim of such a limited psychological pronouncement is the full
truth but because it has become falsely universalized either by the
instructors themselves or by the students who fail to differentiate between
limited operational efficacy and truth in general. Niels Bohr’s advocacy of
complimentariness is to the point in this case.
Or
philosophy, by a false separation of life and logic, may rule that man’s
basic questions are meaningless, whereas it has pronounced most certain the
metaphysical assumptions which underlie its whole approach. It is
particularly important to remember that no knowledge of ultimates is neutral.
Man either accepts or rejects God, through whatever circuitous routes. A large
part of so-called secular knowledge is5 in fact, the result of man’s
sinfulness and tho rationalization of his disobedience. Such
depth-conscious fighting of God takes place through the creation of false
religions, by whatever name. Therefore, the Church-related college has a task
staggering the imagination: to take every thought captive for Christ in the
high places of man’s secular learning.
In
the Church-related college there should come together mature faith and
mature learning, the synthesis of man’s basic needs for a creative society.
Such union of faith and of learning, however, cannot be had without much
effort and pain. For the marriage of faith and learning to take place, the
Church needs to raise up and to support its most competent representatives to
man the Church-related colleges. Apart from such training and staffing, the
difficult job of constant dialectic by the Church-related college with both
the Church and the secular university is impossible. Needed, too, is the kind
of Christian community of learning and communication which gives the support
of a family warmth and a capacity for creative criticism.
III
In
the case of a mature faith, however, we have to deal primarily with people.
When this is done, usually most of the emphasis is put on the students. The
Christian college should help the students find a mature faith. But if such
mature faith is to be produced in the students, it must first be possessed
and demonstrated by those more mature in years. Seldom is a mature Christian
faith even understood, much less had, among those who man the Christian
college; and therefore we start with them, where start we must.
A new
movement, however, is already beginning to train trustees in their high and
holy calling. Perhaps we must go back even further in responsibility to those
who choose the trustees. The trustees should study to understand the dual role
of the Church-related college, at least to the point where they become aware
of the main issues on both sides and can put their influence behind every wind
that blows toward a mature faith. In their selection of administrative
personnel, the most careful and wise Christian judgment is required.
The
administration ought to select faculty with the double function of the
Church-related college in mind. Competence and integrity in one’s subject
are definitely not enough to qualify for such teaching; nor is it enough to
add to these requirements a good character. Faith is of the essence, not only
of the bene ease, of the Christian college. This fact makes staffing a
most troublesome task. It cannot be shirked with immunity. Perhaps our
Church-related colleges must select their own best products and persuade, yes,
constrain, these students to prepare themselves for Christian college
teaching, giving them all needed support. Such groups as the Danforth
Foundation and the National Council on Religion in Higher Education stand
anxious to help. The raising up of such Christian teachers should become a
determined passion.
Possibly
a truly great ecumenical Christian university of the highest competence and
integrity would do more than anything else to change the scope and help
provide top-level Christian teachers. We need such universities as well as the
state-supported and privately operated ones. Besides, the administration can
do wonders for a college by making available the right kind of outside
resources that will more and more stand ready to help. Unless such Christian
speakers of scholarly standing are found, increasingly, the administration
will be handicapped. It should also, I believe, require unapologetically,
Christian worship and Christian instruction. Certainly, regular worship by the
whole college is part and parcel of the reason for the college’s existence,
and to be apologetic about required chapel services, required convocations,
and required courses in religion is to call into question the very ground on
which the college is built. These are required in the same sense in which any
course requires attendance: if the students are not interested in pursuing
such a line, they ought not to be in such a college. A strong administration,
supported by a united faculty, and producing a sustained high level of
worship and religious instruction is the key to a genuinely effective
Church-related college. The answer is not a false freedom from religion but a
fuller effectiveness of Christian worship and Christian instruction.
It
goes without saying that the faculty members should know their subjects and
maintain their professional competence. Usually, however, the need to teach
and to do many other things puts a heavy drain on the time and energy of the
faculty and impedes such achievement. But it should be an aim honestly
accepted by the administration and faculty alike. Besides opportunity for such
scholarly competence, time should be allowed for the continuous growth in the
understanding and application of the Christian faith. A Christian Faculty
Fellowship that is vigorous can help the faculty become mature in faith.
Outstanding theological leaders can be called in, as available, to stimulate
and to direct further growth. Some faculties take a long weekend and make a
real job of finding such maturity, centered in some retreat led by graduate
teachers of religion. Nothing, however, can take the place of discussions of
contemporary theology by small groups of faculty members. In some places, such
groups meet also for worship, even for prayer. This is good; but the danger
exists that there may be a substitution of piety for intellectual vigor.
Nothing of course, can be forced in the case of faith, but progress can be
made whenever the strong few in the faculty who set the pattern for the rest
acquire the vision and the drive to combine as fully as possible man’s two
great needs of intelligent education and intelligent religion.
I
have written more about the administration and the faculty than about the
students because I believe that the former are almost entirely the keys to a
top-level Church-related college. Student generations come and go quickly.
If students meet a staff Christian in faith and example as well as competent
in teaching, they will usually take on the prevailing pattern. I know from
experience that often those who teach the faith most powerfully actually
teach a subject seemingly unrelated to the faith. The whole staff is therefore
of top-flight importance. But the students are, of course, our central aim in
producing a mature Christian faith.
Given
a situation of Christian community, as real as we human beings can be without
false piety or pretense, and given the environment of genuine and
intelligent worship, the students with some advice, will produce their own
activities, both locally and with relation to national groups like the Student
Christian Movement, the Intervarsity Fellowship, or like the YMCA and the
YWCA. Effective programs can be integrated under Chnstian auspices in the
Church-related colleges. But the crux of the matter comes in the teaching. The
faculty, to produce a mature faith within the students, must have as its goal
neither to shelter nor to shock..
Some
institutions and some professors shelter students from the rough places of
religion, either because of a false paternalism, even “momism,” or because
of a fear of the constituency. So to shelter the students is to keep them
precritical and ineffective in the modern world. Deep faith thrives only on
open truth. On the other hand, some institutions and some professors have
grown so far away from the churches and from the faith that they delight in
shocking their students. They care deeply and responsibly neither for the
Church nor for its students. In such a case there is need for a few strong
people to focus the faculty upon the genuine task and upon the distinctive
nature of the Church-related college. The more independent a college becomes
financially and in its manner of control, and the higher its academic
standing, the more it is tempted to ape the secular university.
No
high intellectual achievement, however, can in any way make up for the
Church-related college that fails the students in the deepest needs of their
lives. The students need the feel of reality. They need meaningfulness. They
need a sense of purpose. They need to know what is true, and why. In other
words, they need adequate authority that is not arbitrary, and they need
strong motivation that is not drained by fear. When the faculty, instead of
working off their own guilt feelings on their students, find for themselves a
mature faith that combines high education with holy faith, then the students
will have their best chance to grow deep in creative concern and to grow
strong in co-operative community. A mature faith requires the fullest possible
combination of integrity and faith, of truth and concern. This is the basic
need of our world as well.
The
Church-related college, then, stands at the center of the world’s decision.
It represents indigenously both education and religion. To dedicate ourselves
not only anew, but within a far
deeper
seriousness and effectiveness, to the work of the Church-related college is to
serve God and man where creation meets redemption. It is to minister to the
world’s needs where the mind and the heart meet in the whole man. God give
all Christian educators wind in their sails.
The
issue of March, 1956. Illustrative of the best offering of this group
for higher education is Christian Education in a Democracy by Frank
E. Gaebelein, and, on a more popular level, his The Pattern of God’s
Truth. Both books should be taken seriously by open-minded educators.
See
Arthur Lovejoy’s excellent discussion of this assumption in The Great
Chain of Being, (Harvard University Press, 1936.)
Cf.
his Theology in Conflict.
Surprisingly,
Karl Barth also has such appreciation, but it does not come as the natural
outgrowth of his central theological position.
H.
W. Bartach (ed.), Kerygma and Myth, p. 16.
This
argument is worked out at length in my Faith and Reason.
Obviously,
transcendence need not be conceived of directionally, only
dimensionally, or even in nonspatial terms altogether.