Home is where the heart is. My wife regularly makes fun of me for being such a vocal advocate for my seminary, Duke Divinity School. My friends that went to other seminaries give me grief, and I give it in return. This is all in good fun. I appreciate my alma mater, warts and all, just as others do. That’s why I have been disturbed at some of the hubbub surrounding recent events at the Divinity School, which occurred – strangely enough – before classes even began this year.
The basics: at a panel on diversity that was part of new student orientation, Dean Richard Hays – the guy who basically invented the faith of/faith in debate in New Testament studies – mentioned Duke’s identity as a United Methodist seminary and the UMC’s stance on homosexuality (i.e. that all are of “sacred worth” but that infamously ill-defined “homosexual practice” is not condoned in Christian teaching). Depending on who you listen to, Dean Hays was either abusing his power as a straight white man or sharing the denominational position as one of many positions welcome at the seminary. Opinions vary as to whether or not Hays’ timing was poor, whether or not he had a right to speak (when does the Dean not have a right to speak??), and whether or not the student who asked the presenting question was wronged by his answer.
To be fair, I was not present at the event in question. I have tried to read as much as possible (which is limited), and also talk to current Duke students and staff about what went on. So while my take is not perfect, I have attempted due diligence. I linked to a progressive perspective, shared by Reconciling Ministries Network and others sympathetic to the student, above. Dean Hays’ open letter can be read here. Part of the outrage seems to be that Hays did not offer an apology. But Hays never claimed he was attempting to apologize. The open letter was written to clarify some misunderstandings, not apologize.
Moreover, this so-called controversy was a non-starter from the outset. What does it say that Hays’ view (which, right or wrong, is also the view of the seminary’s denomination) was not welcome by some students at a panel on diversity and inclusion? Perhaps the most significant factor in this matter is what it says about our larger relationship within the church.
We have come to a point in the sexuality debate where merely hearing a contrary opinion is seen as bullying. For instance, the Tea Party of the UMC left, Love Prevails, claimed that “harm” was done at a Connectional Table discussion where one very, very tepid quasi-conservative spoke, simply because he had the temerity to half-heartedly defend the UMC stance. I believe something quite similar happened here. Much like Love Prevails’ prevailing strategy, a student was seeking to raise their own profile and influence through a manufactured controversy before the first lecture even occurred.
Why is it that all too often the people most ostensibly committed to tolerance are the least tolerant of anyone who dissents, and the first to demand punishment of said offenders? Some of the resulting commentary from this incident has insinuated that Duke is not a friendly place for LGBT persons. I fully agree that LGBT students, UMC or not, should be welcomed as any other students. But that hospitality should also extend to conservative students and students from other traditions. It seems that many of the critics would prefer to see Duke go the direction of many of our UM seminaries, which are not especially welcoming to traditionalist students.
Seminary is a wonderful, but often challenging environment. As much as I love Duke and recommend it heartily, I had my rough patches there. I was a just war advocate in a place that seemed stuffed to the gills with Yoderian pacifists, some of whom look at all other Christians as sub-standard. Sometimes I felt like one of the only students who wasn’t some kind of legacy (no one in my family is a pastor or big-wig in the UMC). I felt like an outsider some days, and that isn’t fun. For those reasons, I sympathize with those students who genuinely do not feel welcome in their seminaries of choice. In diverse communities, friction – and with it, conflict – is going to happen.
Anywhere people are in relationship, including the academy and the church, conflict will rear its head. But we have a choice as to how to handle such occurrences. Will we, as Steve Harper suggests, sit down at the table and work things out – or will we issue press releases, organize rallies, and do everything but actually relate to each other as people? Activism has its place, an honored place in fighting injustice and speaking truth to those who’d rather not hear it. But within a Christian community – be it a seminary or a church – we should be quick to assume the best and quick to forgive. In our social media and platform-driven world, I fear that more and more the gravitational pull is precisely the opposite.
All that said, I appreciate that I went to a seminary where I found some of my sacred cows challenged at the same time my faith was deepened. I was grateful to get to know a lot of students from varying backgrounds: gay and straight, Yankee and international, Lutheran and liturgical Baptist (yes, they exist). I could have gone somewhere that was more homogenous, that did not stretch me. I am glad I did not.
Duke Divinity School represents a rare find among United Methodist seminaries: it is a theological school dedicated to forming pastors for the local church, passionate about the faith once and for all given to the saints, and yet also tied to a truly excellent academic institution with concomitant standards for intellectual rigor. The more pastors I meet from other places, the more glad I am that I went to Duke. There are other wonderful theological schools, please don’t misunderstand. For me, however, Duke was an excellent fit.
And maybe that’s what it comes down to, really. In this day and age, it is a bit shocking when a United Methodist academic shares a tidbit from the Book of Discipline without apology, but it’s probably positive that this can happen in a few places. That may not be for everyone, of course. I respect that. To each their own. But there’s the rub:
When is a controversy not a controversy? When the real issue is a bad fit coupled with miscommunication, exacerbated by demands and public statements, minus relationship. We are the Body of Christ. We are family. Let’s work things out as such.