A Calling to
Talk and Libraries
Ken Myers
The idea of the university was discovered by
Christians, who needed places in which to talk about their Book, to discover
the ramifications of its teachings for the life of the world, and to articulate
with greater clarity the lines between truth and error. Christians knew from
the start that the study of their own Book often meant the study of other books
as well, that such study was nurtured by communities of students and teachers
who could read and talk together about the Book and the books. This was most
fitting, because, as Robert Jenson has observed, “We serve a talkative God, who
does not even seem to be able to do without a library. In his service, we will
be concerned for talk and libraries.”
Christians knew that talk and libraries were ways (for
people so gifted) to respond in obedience to the great commandments to love God
and neighbor. Talk and books are ways of being tethered to truth. Loving God
and neighbor requires knowledge of the truth about God and the truth about the
many challenges and opportunities of human experience in the world God has
made. The university was originally assumed to be a place in which the
diversity of these explorations could be made more fruitful because of the essential unity of truth (that unity
accounts for the uni- in university).
But many modern preoccupations and prejudices have put
assunder what God had once united. While I know of no
institution of higher learning that has changed its name to employ the term
“multiversity,” it would be a truer description of how these institutions
function. Thanks to the forces of skepticism, specialization, and
secularization, the assumptions about God, creation, human nature, history,
language, and truth that formed the foundations of Western higher education are
all in ruins.
To be fair, the Church must assume some of the blame
for this state of affiars. Skepticism about the unity of truth is not hard to
find in conservative congregations around the country, which are often as anti-intellectual
as the universities are anti-religious. If academics assume that faith in God
is a private matter to be left at home, many Christians see the university only
as a place to do evangelism. The idea of Christian scholarship is equally
outrageous to both parties.
I meet many students who struggle with keeping their
faith intact while in college. There are numerous ministries devoted to
encouraging them in that struggle. That encouragement often takes the form of
well-crafted arguments defending basic Christian beliefs, and these are
obviously valuable resources. They reinforce the foundational convictions on
which we all build. But I sometimes wonder if these students might be even more
sustained if they had a robust sense of the rich and comprehenisve structure of
Christian intellectual life which can be erected on those foundations. If the
congregations in which they were raised had confidently and expectantly taught
and preached and conversed in a way that assumed the unity of all truth, and if
they affirmed the value of intellectual vocations, would these students be more
likely to deflect skeptical questions about their faith?
The recovery of the convictions that built the Western
university is a task for the whole church, for every congregation and Christian
family. We can begin by regularly reminding ourselves that the God who saves us
is the God who made us and all things, that our message of redemption only
makes sense in the context of the bigger story about creation. Our God cares
about all aspects of our lives, and thus the renewing of our minds is as
needful as the cleansing of our hearts.
Even with these truths confidently affirmed by
Christian students, they will still struggle in the secularized multiversity.
But their struggle will be assisted by a confidence in the worthiness and
importance of their calling as students,
equipped with some knowledge of the right questions as well as a godly passion
for seeking answers.