Mark Love, Ph.D.
Rochester University
Director of Graduate Program in Missional Leadership
Professor of Theology & Ministry
We have spent the last two semesters benefitting from the research of our colleagues who have explored the ways Rochester University lives into its mission in relation to its Church of Christ roots. This work is more than a nostalgic walk down memory lane.
Our purpose in writing these essays is not to idealize our roots, but to recognize them and their continuing influence on our identity so we can be conscious of what we want to carry forward into our future.
There are certainly other ways to tell the Church of Christ story than the ways we have in these essays. Sadly, we could tell this story in anti-intellectual, sectarian, exclusivist terms. But we have chosen themes using Rochester’s own story, and the story of Christian higher education in many of our universities, as a filter that guides our selections. While we have applied certain filters, this is not a fiction. Those things we have emphasized can absolutely be found in the Church of Christ story. Some of the themes have been consistent from beginning to end, such as our commitment to the authority of the Bible. Other themes are less consistently present in our historical journey, for instance the peace and justice tradition exemplified by Stone, Lipscomb, and others in the period before the 20th century World Wars. Still, the themes we have pursued are a true part of our story, themes that might be pursued as relevant to our current circumstance.
At this point, I want to underline a point made in Naomi Walter’ excellent essay. The Stone-Campbell movement began with a plea to be “Christians only.” In less than a generation, however, there were already some who had staked out reasons for seeing ourselves as the “only Christians.” This slide from a plea for a generic, inclusive movement, and into a decidedly sectarian one is an all-to-common outcome, one that Walter’s labels inevitable. The original plea rests on a conceit that we are Christians only. The truth is, as Keith Huey’s first essay pointed out, we were post-revolutionary American, enlightenment rationalist, anti-Calvinist, anti-Catholic, antebellum Christians. Both Stone and Campbell were influenced in positive and negative ways by their Presbyterian roots. And lurking behind all of that are consequential figures in the history of the church: Athanasius, Augustine, Calvin, and Luther to name only a few. We were never “Christians only.”
The problem with thinking you are Christians only when you are not, is that you begin to see your version of the faith as normative. You become the measure of what it means to be Christian, which is the banana peel to sectarianism. Part of why we are writing and thinking and discussing is to affirm we are a particular kind of Christian institution. We do not stand free from historical influence. We are not simply a generic Christian university. We stand somewhere in the great stream of Christian history. The irony of this claim to particularity is that it actually allows us to welcome others. If we are not the measure of what it means to be Christian, then we are open to learn with and from others.
One more comment by way of introduction. Walters’ essay in this collection suggested that we act like what we are—a denomination with a creed, though an unspoken one. I wholeheartedly agree with recognizing ourselves as a historically contingent, “denominated,” group. Walters calls us to say what we believe, even though it is subject to revision. I like the instinct to name our particularity. I believe the Stone-Campbell movement has gifts to offer that would distinguish us from other traditions. The problem, though, is in deciding who the “we” is in determining what “our beliefs” are. The fact that Churches of Christ have never been defined theologically has allowed an impressive amount of diversity. I know this claim might surprise some given our “only Christians” sectarianism through the years. But at the same time the Heretic Detector was being published, other Stone-Campbell publications were affirming that there were Christians among the denominations. At the same time Foy E. Wallace, Jr. (1896-1979) was defining what it meant to be a Christian in ever narrowing (and mean) ways. Leaders like Leroy Garrett (1919-2015) and K. C. Moser (1893-1976) were staking out an open, irenic vision of the kingdom of God. While Wallace Jr. was arguing for a “word only” view of the Holy Spirit (the Holy Spirit was only present in the Bible) in the Firm Foundation, authors like Frank Pack, J.D. Thomas, J. W. Roberts and others were arguing for the personal indwelling of the Holy Spirit in Power for Today and in a new publication, Mission Journal. While Tom Warren was publishing the contentious journal, Contending for the Faith, his young protégé, Rubel Shelly was charting a new path with his book, I Just Want to be a Christian. Within Rochester’s own story, there is a wide diversity between Otis Gatewood and Rubel Shelly, or between John Tyson and Brian Stogner, and likely between Dr. Stogner and whoever follows him.
The one doctrinal theme that has risen above the rest in this series of essays is the kingdom of God. While I will use that term below in a general sense, what is meant by it carries diverse meanings as well. For instance, what Stone meant by the term certainly differed from what Campbell meant. All of this to say, what held us together as a movement was less our beliefs, but more our practices. Whether in a legalistic church in Tennessee, or a grace-oriented congregation in the Pacific Northwest, all Churches of Christ practice believer’s baptism by immersion and weekly observance of the Lord’s Supper. Additionally, while our “preachers” are increasingly called “pastors,” none will ever wear vestments and our congregations will be lay led. We might have a wide spectrum of beliefs about these practices, but more than our beliefs they define who we are for better or worse.
So, the approach taken here will not be to define what it means to be a Church of Christ university related to a set of agreed upon beliefs, but rather related to “learning virtues” which arise principally from our practices, as virtues typically do. Perhaps Charles Taylor’s term, “social imaginary” best depicts what I am attempting to describe—a complex of beliefs and practices that authorizes how we do what we do. What follows, then, are important aspects of how learning could be imagined, connected to our Church of Christ roots. They are not a list of things that make a person or a congregation a “Church of Christ.” Rather, the list recognizes our location as a university that is about the business of Christian higher education. These virtues are offered specifically for this work. These also do not comprise a complete list of virtues necessary for Christian learning to be achieved. We will need to add to our list as we learn from other universities that have different learning virtues. Nor are specific virtues unique to us. Taken together, however, if we choose to maintain these virtues, we will assuredly be a university in the Stone-Campbell tradition.
Churches of Christ established universities committed to arts and sciences. I found Keith Huey’s second essay on Alexander Campbell’s views on higher education fascinating. While founding liberal arts institutions seems like an obvious choice, this has not been a unanimous pursuit in Christian Higher Education. The Scopes Trial (July 1925) and the ensuing conflicts between modernism and fundamentalism led many conservative denominations to found Bible colleges instead of liberal arts universities. Bible colleges offered safe environments, particularly from the effects of emerging scientific knowledge, like evolution. In the Stone-Campbell tradition, Independent Christian Churches established Bible colleges, while Churches of Christ, along with the Disciples of Christ, continued to establish liberal arts colleges and universities.
When the “integration of faith and learning” movement was at its zenith fifteen years ago, I attended a meeting with the president of a well-known Christian college, founded as a Bible college, to hear about what they had done as leaders in the integration of faith and learning. He talked particularly about the sciences at their college and how they integrated their fields of study with biblical teaching. “Biblical teaching” became the monitor on what conclusions could be reached. This is less the integration of faith and learning and more the absorption of learning within a particular version of the faith.
In contrast, the virtues related to a commitment to arts and sciences are open inquiry and academic freedom. Of course, Christian biologists and physicists are going to see God being related to their work, but this is different than saying what the Bible or a statement of faith sets the boundaries on what conclusions may be reached. The truth is, Christians of all stripes trust Copernicus and Galileo more than they do statements from the Bible on cosmology. While controversies arise from time-to-time in Church of Christ universities that would question whether open inquiry and academic freedom are learning virtues, for the most part, and in most institutions, they are.
Churches of Christ prize the life of the mind. It might very well be the case that members of the Church of Christ are more spiritually moved by a good syllogism than they are an emotionally stirring worship service. I have made accusations like these myself from time-to-time and might even be one of these logic-centered worshippers. We are rationalists, often to a fault, a disposition we inherited from Campbell who was said to carry John Locke’s and Thomas Reid’s writings in his saddlebags. Even Stone doubted the doctrine of the Trinity because it was irrational. Nevertheless, it is a virtue to insist that positions be well reasoned and that conclusions be based on reliable sources. It is a very Church of Christ thing to instill the importance of critical thinking in students. And in an age when truth is up for grabs, it is certainly virtuous to cite one’s sources, to evaluate claims on an evidence basis, and to insist others do the same in public discourse.
In Churches of Christ, the Bible is the ultimate authority in matters of faith. While I believe this statement is true, it definitely deserves some qualification. First, it is true in the sense that what the Bible says counts more to Church of Christ members than a creed or a statement of faith. This is likely one reason why Church of Christ universities typically do not ask employees to sign a statement of faith as a condition of employment. We expect that Christians will seek God first through the pages of scripture and follow its teaching as they understand it.
Second, the priority of the Bible is not true in the sense that “God said it, I believe it, that settles it.” The Bible, as an ancient and diverse collection of writings does not yield easily to a literalist approach of interpretation. As I mentioned in my first essay, biblical scholars in Churches of Christ have always used the best tools at their disposal to get at not only what the Bible said in its original context, but also what it means for today. Sometimes this is a pretty straightforward endeavor, but more often it is a complex affair.
The Bible as a diverse collection of writings is a living word, able to speak again to our diverse situations in often surprising ways. Virtuous learners move beyond simplistic “if… then” formulas to the complexities of interpretation. In this way, the Bible, as a sacred text, models this very approach to learning. It does not agree in all aspects, portraying knowledge of a Holy God as a complex endeavor requiring wisdom.
It is also the case that placing the Bible in a prominent place in a university’s curriculum says something about what we think it means to be an educated person. If we are created, being educated would require pursuing questions about the Creator, and what it means to be human in God’s world. This instinct locates truth, not simply within an immanent frame to use Charles Taylor’s term, but in transcendent categories that lie beyond notions of the autonomous, self-realizing individual.
Churches of Christ pledge allegiance to a different kingdom. The kingdom of God has been a perennial theme for Churches of Christ, though not always in the best way. Many preachers and teachers conflate the kingdom with the church, which feeds our historical sectarianism. Many have been taught, in other words, that the church and kingdom of God are the same thing. Early in our movement, however, the kingdom of God was equated more with God’s coming kingdom, not to be realized by any human institution or endeavor. As David Greer’s essay points out, David Lipscomb believed that Christians belonged to a different kingdom and were, therefore, not citizens of human kingdoms. For Lipscomb, this meant Christians should abstain from civil government, even from the right to vote. Lipscomb believed that Christians certainly should not fight in the wars of other kingdoms. Instead, Lipscomb saw that Christian duty in any society should be serving the poor and those in need.
While few hold to Lipscomb’s views on voting and pacifism today, the impulse that we serve a different kingdom continues in other ways. You will not find, for instance, American flags in most of our buildings, and elections and candidates will not be discussed from the front in church. Churches of Christ, while tending to be politically conservative, avoid anything that might seem partisan.
The temptation for Church of Christ universities to be aligned with a certain set of partisan political positions is strong right now. The political polarization of our society seemingly leaves no neutral ground. Money for Christian universities comes primarily from the Christian right, making the pull even more tempting. The option for Christian nationalism seems plausible to more and more on the right end of the political spectrum. At the very least it should be pointed out that this violates traditional teaching in Churches of Christ.
So, what type of engagement might a Christian university have that is non-partisan? Lipscomb might respond that service to the poor and overlooked should be the calling of a Christian university. This seems especially to be the case for a university located between communities like Detroit, Pontiac, and Flint. Perhaps this should inform our decisions about what kinds of students we welcome and what kinds of accommodations we will invest in to help them to be successful.
But how does this relate to learning virtues? Everything we know and learn, we know and learn from a certain perspective. There are very few “neutral” facts. What is learned is dependent to a large extent on our angle of vision. The kingdom of God is always about “lifting up the lowly” and “bringing down the proud in the imagination of their hearts” (Luke 1:51-52). Approaching what we know from this perspective, and not from the perspective of American visions of success, is a learning virtue related to the kingdom of God.
Churches of Christ possess a sacramental imagination. If you attend a Church of Christ these days, you might worship acapella or you might have a praise band. You might have women leading publicly, or not. You might find the church to be open and affirming to LGBTQ+ persons, but most likely not. In other words, you will find diversity among our churches except for these two things: adult believer’s baptism by immersion, and weekly observance of the Lord’s Supper. These two practices, more than any others, define what it means to be a faithful congregation in Churches of Christ. As scholars have recently emphasized, practices—what we do with our bodies—shape our desires. And what we learn is always conditioned by our desires.
Dr. Stogner will have more to say about “the open table” as a practice that determines what it means to be a Church of Christ university. I will say here only that this is more than a metaphor, but an actual embodiment of what it means to be Christian. Tables as places of welcome should inform how we lead, how we teach, and how we learn.
I want to say a word, though, about baptism. I will confess two things at the start: believer’s baptism by immersion for the forgiveness of sins was the line drawn by many in Churches of Christ to define who was in or out. It became the occasion for our sectarianism, the place where restoration won out over unity. Second, our views on baptism have tended toward legalism; that baptism is an obedience we could perform to win God’s approval. Both instincts are not good.
The thing about baptism is that it is not a do-it-yourself project. It requires others. God’s grace is mediated through the hands of others and through water. In fact, a strong view of baptism sees the officiant, not as the pastor or priest, but as the community of believers. It is an action of solidarity with those who have made the same confession. It orients the Christian journey from the very beginning as a walk with others. As the baptized, we are not monads; autonomous, self-possessing individuals. Rather, baptism mediates the public statement that we are not our own but are joined to all whom God loves. Baptism is, in this sense, our ordination for mission. Christianity then, as a baptismal faith, is a mutually interdependent reality. Said in reverse, Christianity as a mutually interdependent reality, is a baptismal faith. We learn best what it means to be Christian, and most everything else, through communities of interdependence, which requires humility, patience, kindness, and any other fruit of the Spirit you want to add.
These communal aspects of baptism are true for both those baptized as infants and adults. Before the modern era, the church quarreled over the mode and subject of baptism but not its necessity. The church did not question the necessity of baptism until the modern period with the rise of the priority of the autonomous individual. If what is most real takes place in the interior of the individual, then an “outward” ritual’s importance is diminished. The faith, within this frame, does not need to be mediated if the individual is elevated. Faith becomes a direct interaction between “God and me.”
I say all of this, not as a polemic on baptism, but as a way of marking the learning virtue of interdependence, and to provide a theological rationale for these types of learning communities. I should also note that the understanding of baptism highlighted here is not the one held by most members of Churches of Christ. But to the extent that baptism is a recognized, ongoing practice of our churches, its full significance resides in potential through reflection on the practice itself. In other words, the fact that we practice baptism the way we do carries these meanings whether we are aware of them or not.
While these are Church of Christ virtues for higher learning, they are not unique to Churches of Christ. Taken separately, they might also be true of other Christian Higher Education commitments. Mennonite universities might have peace and justice commitments. Jesuit and Methodist universities might model open inquiry and academic freedom. Baptist universities might center the Bible as the primary authority in matters of faith. I think, however, that taken together these virtues comprise a unique contribution in Christian Higher Education, a contribution worth honoring and embodying.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Allen, C. Leonard and Richard T. Hughes. Discovering Our Roots: The Ancestry of Churches of Christ. Abilene, TX: ACU Press, 1988.
Carter, Kelly. Trinity in the Stone-Campbell Movement: Restoring the Heart of the Faith. Abilene, TX: ACU Press, 2015.
Crawford, Matthew. The World Beyond Your Head: On Becoming an Individual in an Age of Distraction. Downers Grove, IL: Farrar, Strauss, and Giroux, 2016.
Enns, Peter. How the Bible Actually Works. New York: HarperOne, 2019.
Love, Mark. “Reading the Bible on Its Own Terms,” Teleios Journal, 2 no. 2, Summer, 2022: 73-81.
Marsden, George M. Fundamentalism and American Culture, 2nd ed. New York: Oxford University Press, 1986.
Meek, Esther Lightcap. Longing to Know: The Philosophy of Knowledge for Ordinary People. Downers Grove, IL: Brazos, 2003.
Smith, James K. A. Desiring the Kingdom: Worship, Worldview, and Cultural Formation. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2009.
Smith, James K. A. You are What You Love: The Spiritual Power of Habit. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2016.
Taylor, Charles. A Secular Age. Cambridge: Belknap Press, 2007.
