Shorter University and the Trouble with Tolerance

October 24, 2011 has become an infamous day in the history of Shorter University. I can recall sitting in the chapel as news of the Faith Statement, Personal Lifestyle Statement, and Philosophy of Education was shared with faculty and staff. Having studied and served at numerous Christian colleges and universities before, and participated on a committee or two that drafted similar documents, I understood the importance of these statements in shaping institutional policy and determining our trajectory. Like most who sat in that room, there were elements of the documents that I deeply appreciated and those I may have worded differently, but overall, I was quite supportive and pleased. I had much hope that these documents would accelerate what seemed like a concerted effort to renew the university’s commitment to its heritage and historic faith.

I was excited for the conversations that I expected would follow. I understood that there may be some who would earnestly disagree with these documents, but I genuinely looked forward to the lively exchange of ideas that would emerge over the coming weeks. As a university that seeks to reflect Christ, I expected a conversation that would be ripe with both truth and grace, as colleagues and friends would sharpen one another in love, for the good of the university, for the mutual benefit of one another, and for the glory and honor of the One we serve. Needless to say, I was disappointed with the conversation that ensued. The following day, our department received a voice message littered with profanity and insults, condemning us for not being more loving and accepting of opinions that differed from our own. As the weeks progressed, the criticisms of Shorter varied in their specific details, but for the most part, were all something along the line of “how dare you be so condemning…don’t you know it is wrong to judge the beliefs of others…why can’t you just admit that we’re right and you’re wrong on this matter?”

The character of the public discourse outside of Shorter did not come as a great shock to me, but what was surprising was the volume of those within the Shorter community espousing similar sentiments. Faculty, staff members, and alumni trained in the art of critical thinking, logic, and reason seemed unable to identify the irony in their own statements. I was left wondering if this wasn’t an intellectual problem, but rather an epistemological one- if the trouble with the conversation at Shorter had less to do with the actual opinions of those in disagreement, but rather the collision of two radically different schools of thought.

D.A. Carson, in his recent book The Intolerance of Tolerance (2012), describes how the definition of tolerance has greatly changed in recent years. Carson suggests that the old tolerance allowed for individuals to disagree with one another, even sharply, as long as they recognized the right of other opinions to exist. The new tolerance, however, mandates the acknowledgment of all opinions as equally valid. To question the belief of another individual is, well…intolerable. While the old tolerance was seen as a means of supporting the common good, the new tolerance IS the common good. Tolerance essentially has become a virtue in itself, and is the chief virtue- a “defeater” belief that trumps all others (Carson, 2012).

Shorter is not the only educational institution to be affected by this stealth change in meaning. Vanderbilt University is entrenched in a similar ideological struggle, albeit at the other end of the pendulum swing. Recently, Vanderbilt University announced that Christian student groups would lose official university recognition (including access to university facilities and resources) if they did not allow individuals who did not share their beliefs to hold key elected offices. Mind you, this standard was not applied equally to all student groups. For example, democratic student groups would not be forced to allow republicans to hold offices, nor would feminist groups be required to allow males to fill key leadership positions. But for the sake of diversity and inclusion, Christian student groups would be forced to accept the views of those they disagree with or risk being excluded from the university community. Michael Paulsen, in his article entitled “Vanderbilt’s Right to Despise Christianity” (March 2012), suggests that Vanderbilt, as a private organization, should possess the freedom to define their own mission, identity, and internal membership practices- which ironically is the very freedom that it wishes to deny its own student organizations (Paulsen, 2012).

Higher education certainly doesn’t hold a monopoly on this incoherence. Recently, in R.Z vs. Carmel Clay Schools (SD IN, April 11, 2012), an Indiana federal district court ruled in favor of the new tolerance. In response to personal statements from an evangelical student to her peers on a public school bus, the bus driver (a state employee), exclaimed that there were Muslims, Jews, and homosexuals all on the same bus- that it was precisely this diversity that made America great- and that if she continued to share with other students that their views were wrong, she didn’t belong on her bus. The parents of the evangelical student argued that the school employee was suppressing their daughter’s free speech. The court rejected claims that the student’s free expression rights had been infringed.

What is so glaringly obvious about this case is that the student had not “excluded” anyone. She is a private individual with a personal opinion that she wished to share in the public square, a right even the new tolerance purports as protected. The student had shared her personal belief that heaven is reserved only for born-again Christians. She, of course, has no power or authority to enforce this. She is clearly not standing at the gates of heaven, holding the velvet rope and selectively choosing who enters and who does not. The notion is almost comical. She simply expressed her belief about the possibility of some future exclusion. She also listened intently to the opposing views of her peers. The public employee, however, did suppress and exclude her beliefs by demanding she either change or silence them in order to remain in good standing. Unfortunately, under the new tolerance, intolerance of the intolerant is quite tolerable.

So now we return to the matter at Shorter University, better equipped to understand the subtle struggle between the old and new definitions of tolerance. Are the polarized opinions at Shorter valid and substantial? Of course they are. A private university should have the right to define its mission and requirements for employment and members of the university have the right to question and contest such requirements. But that is not the real issue here. That is not the driving force behind the voracity of the complaints, and earnest disagreement is not the reason why the tone of this conversation has been so uncharitable. The problem at Shorter is one of tolerance- not the university’s refusal to tolerate opinions with which it may disagree, but rather a prevailing cultural expectation that all opinions must be accepted in order to be tolerated, and a willingness to reciprocate uncanny intolerance in the face of perceived intolerance. D.A. Carson wisely reminds us that “genuine pluralism within the broader culture is facilitated when there is a strong Christian voice loyal to the Scriptures- as well as strong Muslim voices, skeptical voices, Buddhist voices, atheistic voices, and so forth. Genuine pluralism within the broader culture is not fostered when in the name of tolerance none of the voices can say that any of the others is wrong, and when this stance is the only ultimate virtue” (Carson, 2012).

In closing, may I make a few humble recommendations in an effort to redeem the public discourse:

To my departing colleagues: You have invested years of your personal and professional energy to this university, and I am grateful for your service. I understand that you feel you must leave and I respect your conviction. I know your departure is both painful and unwanted for you, and to the extent that I am able to say so, I’m sorry for what you have experienced. As you transition to other opportunities, seek to leave Shorter as rich and vibrant a place as you found it. Let the work that you have done leave a positive legacy behind. Remember, there are still those you love here, and your manner of departure can have profound effects for us all.

To my colleagues who remain: I know how difficult it can be to see the university you love being treated so scornfully, and to a large degree, I’m sure the criticism has felt deeply personal. Thank you for your perseverance. Please know that there are others like you who are supportive of Shorter. In the wake of recent negative publicity, I understand why you may feel as if your voice has been marginalized. Take courage, share your convictions, and know that others will follow you.

To my friends in the community: I appreciate the valuable relationship that Shorter shares with the Roman community. I understand that there are citizens who disagree with the university’s policies. While your feedback is appreciated, I would ask that you be generous in your comments. The world is watching, and we want to be good ambassadors for the Roman community.

To my dear students whom I am honored to serve: You have endured much this year. Attention that could have been better spent on education has been absorbed by thoughts of accreditation, departing faculty, and threats against your personal safety. Despite all of this, many of you have still studied and served well. You have shown remarkable tenacity and your time here, no matter how brief, will have been well spent. Pay attention to the continued discourse with a critical eye, and allow it to enlarge your capacity for thinking, humility, and generosity.

To Dr. Dowless: Thank you for your courage and leadership during these past months. In the face of daunting criticism and personal attacks, your gracious spirit has not waned. We know that you love Shorter, you pray regularly for her, and that she will flourish as a result. I have no recommendations for you, but simply wanted to publicly commend you and remind you that there are many within the Shorter community who support and appreciate you and are proud to call you our President.

References:

Carson, D.A. (2012). The Intolerance of Tolerance. Grand Rapids, IL: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Co.

Paulsen, M.S. (2012, March 14). Vanderbilt’s Right to Despise Christianity. Retrieved from: http://www.thepublicdiscourse.com/2012/03/4930.

United States District Court Southern District of Indiana Division (2012, April 11). RZ. vs. Carmel Clay Schools. Retrieved from: https://ecf.insd.uscourts.gov/cgi-bin/show_public_doc?12010cv1117-74.

An Unlikely Valentine’s Day Conversation: Myths of Christian Singlehood

My journey with Christ began the summer before my sophomore year in high school. While I had prayed to receive Christ on several occasions before this, it wasn’t until this time that I truly understood my deep need for a Savior and fully surrendered my life to the leadership of Jesus. Like many new Christians, this new life came with great hope and anticipation, but also a fair measure of fear and uncertainty. While I had no doubt that placing my heart in the hands of my Designer, the great Lover of my soul, would ultimately lead to a richer, more abundant life than I could ever devise on my own, I also knew quite well that such a life could only be achieved through self-sacrifice, by abandoning my own will in favor of the One who made me. I trusted that through obedience, enabled and empowered by the Holy Spirit, the desires of my heart would increasingly align with the desires of the heart of God, but I knew this process would likely be long, arduous, and at times even painful. 

As a teenager, one of my fears of a life fully committed to Christ’s leadership was the possibility that I might one day be “called” to serve in some distant, remote country with no electricity, air conditioning, or indoor plumbing. The idea seemed like such a dreadful paradox …knowing that no other life would be as fulfilling as the one to which God has called us…and yet not quite grasping what could possibly be satisfying about a life with no television and the constant threat of malaria. As I grew older, and my worldview enlarged, I began to appreciate more fully how rewarding such an adventurous experience could be. It was not long, however, until this diminishing fear would soon be supplanted by a far greater one- the fear of singlehood. 

By our college years, most of us have read Paul’s admonition that it would be better to remain single, as he was (1 Cor. 7). For many of us, the “call to singlehood” is much like the aforementioned paradox I experienced as a teen- we know the richest life is the one to which God has called us, and yet a life of singleness sounds like a fate more painful than those the great martyrs of faith endured. While we begrudgingly acknowledge singleness as a gift, if we were completely honest, it feels much more like the consolation prize. 

Many of us view marriage as the norm, and singleness as a high calling to which only a few are elected. While we may admire the commitment of these faithful few, we cannot imagine that we are among them, and deep down inside we dread the possibility. Perhaps we would be better served by adjusting our understanding of this calling. While it is true that, statistically speaking, most of us will marry in this life, all of us are called to singlehood. All of us will spend a number of our productive years as single adults. Even those who marry will ultimately become single again when their spouses pass. Furthermore, we will neither marry nor be given into marriage in eternity (Lk. 20:34). Rather than positing marriage as the norm and singleness for a select few, perhaps a more accurate understanding would be to suggest that all of us are called to singleness, while some are called temporarily to marriage. 

Unfortunately, the Church has largely been unhelpful in the construction of a robust theology of singlehood. Paige Benton Brown, in her article entitled Singled Out by God for Good, suggests a few common fallacies often purported by the Church in regard to marriage and singlehood:

• “As soon as you’re satisfied with God alone, he’ll bring someone special into your life”—as though God’s blessings are ever earned by our contentment.
• “You’re too picky”—as though God is frustrated by our fickle whims and needs broader parameters in which to work.
• “As a single you can commit yourself wholeheartedly to the Lord’s work”—as though God requires emotional martyrs to do his work, of which marriage must be no part.
• “Before you can marry someone wonderful, the Lord has to make you someone wonderful”—as though God grants marriage as a second blessing to the satisfactorily sanctified.

These statements, albeit sincere and well-intentioned, represent a view of singleness that is wholly unbiblical- that of marriage as the goal and singleness as a kind of spiritual purgatory that must be endured. They leave little room for a life of lasting, sustained joy as a single person. Brown’s example, however, mirrors the Apostle Paul’s admonition to find joy in one’s station in life when she exclaims “I am single because God is so abundantly good to me- because this is His best for me.”  

Admittedly, it may be much easier for me to suggest singleness as a viable way of life. After all, I am married and have been for nearly the past decade. My purpose behind writing this article, however, is to encourage many of the college students and young single adults whom I work among to avoid the idolization of marriage that I was guilty of when I was in college. Because I exalted marriage as the goal, not only did I fail to fully realize many of the joys of singleness, but I actually entered marriage far less prepared for what would be required of me. While marriage alleviated the loneliness I felt in some ways, it actually exacerbated it in others. Because I had spent so many years searching for a wife as the “missing link” in the chain of my relational identity, I was all the more disappointed to discover that my spouse would fail to meet my every emotional need. Because I had made marriage an idol for so many years, I allowed my spouse to displace and unwittingly usurp the role only Christ could sufficiently fill in my life. When my spouse failed to live up to this pseudo-savior role, I would selfishly and unfairly credit her with my disappointments and disillusionment. 

Only in recent years have I slowly begun learning to find my identity and fulfillment in Christ alone. I have begun to understand my spouse as a partner in this journey, a fellow sojourner, as opposed to the destination. I’ve been much happier, and my marriage has grown increasingly richer since this realization. As we approach Valentine’s Day 2012, I would encourage my married friends not only to celebrate their love for their beloved, but also to join with our single friends in celebrating the deep abiding love we share with one another in Christ, a bond far more lasting and deep than any familial or romantic relationship. Additionally, may we celebrate the love of the One whom we are being made glorious for, and will be wedded to for all eternity.

By Joshua Arnold, M.Ed., posted 2/14/2012.

Practicing the Elusive Discipline of Contentment

Set foot in any retail store and you will quickly realize that the holidays are upon us. Next week marks the beginning of the traditional holiday season for most Americans, and while Thanksgiving may be the date that marks our calendars, most of the excitement and anticipation is for the biggest un-official holiday of the year. It is a date observed by an estimated 170,000,000 Americans, or well over one-half of the total U.S. population. It is Black Friday, perhaps the single most important shopping day of the year for both consumers and retailers. Black Friday gathers its name from the accounting practices of days gone by, where negative figures were recorded in red ink and positive figures in black. It is commonly known as the time of the year that retailer establishments officially become “profitable,” having operated at a loss for the remainder of the year.

Black Friday is not a new phenomenon. The day after Thanksgiving has traditionally marked the beginning of the shopping season since the early twenties, with the inception of the modern Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. The term “Black Friday” has been traced back to the mid 1960s and gained considerable momentum in the late twentieth and early twenty-first century as the premium shopping event of the year. In recent years, Black Friday has grown from a single day event into a season-long experience. Stores are increasingly offering their famous “door-busters” during the entire month of November. Some stores, including Sears and Toys R Us, will open on Thanksgiving Day for the first time in their history. The popularity of Black Friday has also given rise to another American cultural experience- Cyber Monday. Like a sequel to a movie, Cyber Monday attempts to capitalize on the success of Black Friday by offering additional deals on products online.

Thanksgiving has typically been immune to the pressures of retailers. There are no gifts to buy, no mythical figures for children to pose with in the mall, or any of the like. It has largely been a time to express our thankfulness for what we have received with friends and family. And while it is still generally considered fashionable to criticize the over-commercialization of holidays, few have taken notice to the fact that Thanksgiving is quickly slipping away, eclipsed by the allure of great deals on fall fashions and electronics.

To illuminate a point, I often use the illustration of the alien visitor. What would the alien visitor, having no prior context or knowledge, think about our holiday season simply by observing our customs and practices? Would it even be aware that Thanksgiving was a holiday? What would it presume that we were celebrating? Would it sense our deep satisfaction for the blessings we’ve received, or would it presume that we were dissatisfied and discontent with what we currently have? How precious of a commodity would it believe a deeply discounted Apple I-pad to be, that thousands would be willing to camp outside the doors of various retailers hours before their opening, as if waiting for a life-saving vaccine?

“The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want” Psalm 23:1

In the Old Testament of the Bible, a psalmist describes an unusual response of thankfulness for the blessings he has received. He acknowledges God’s goodness, how He has cared for him through difficult circumstances, how He has provided for his every need, and as a result the psalmist declares “the Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want” (Psalm 23:1). The psalmist even goes as far as saying that his “cup runs over,” as if to say “Lord…you’ve been so good to me, I believe that I have TOO much.” Perhaps the modern psalmist, in the midst of holiday sales and door-buster ads, out of an expression of his or her appreciation for God’s faithfulness and provision, might say “The Lord is my provider, I shall not shop.”

If you’ve ever dieted, you understand the great temptations that come with the holiday season. It can be incredibly difficult to exercise restraint in the midst of countless family meals and corporate Christmas parties. Quite often, the holidays provide an excuse to throw off restraint and partake in all of the indulgences of the season. How many of us have ever heard ourselves say “well, I’ve already had three helpings of mashed potatoes, but what’s one more…after all, it is the holidays!” Holidays certainly have a way of inviting the excessive. The same rings true of our holiday shopping. Most of us have experienced the frustration of trying to think of that one gift our beloved truly “needs.” This is perhaps the single greatest reason why in only three years (1999-2002) gift card sales doubled from 19 billion to nearly 40 billion dollars per year. The holidays have a way of compelling us to spend, whether we need to or not.

John Ortberg describes contentment as “one of the most elusive disciplines of our daily realities.” Left to our own devices, we seem to naturally gravitate toward consumption, rather than contentment. Perhaps this is why the Apostle Paul states “I have learned in whatever state I am, to be content” (Philippians 4:11). Paul seemed to understand that contentment is a discipline that requires intentionality and practice in order to master.

As we approach the holidays, I would invite us to consider them as a timely opportunity to exercise the discipline of contentment. As leaders of our homes, churches, colleges, and our various other spheres of influence, I would encourage us to diligently seek ways that we might kindle the flame of contentment in others as well. As Marshall McLuhan once stated, there is “no such thing as inevitability as long as someone is willing to consider what is going on.” Retailers will continue to entice us with their products, and millions of Americans will continue to buy them. As long as their remains a remnant of thoughtful consumers, willing to consider what is happening and respond accordingly, I’m convinced that there may still be hope for Thanksgiving.