The much-discussed "revival of religion" at the University is not just the property of the President and Corporation. The stepped-up membership drives of student religious organizations and increased student attendance at local churches echo it on another level. There are all sorts of explanations, vague ones like "the religious tenor of the times," specific ones such as the example set by the personal devotion of President Pusey. But regardless of cause, a revival is in the offing, bringing with it the question of whether there is room for expansion of religious life at the University that can enrich, without encroaching upon the values of a Harvard education.

The only two characteristics of religion plainly alien to education at a non-denominational University are compulsion and sectarianism. Compulsion negates the freedom to be indifferent, a fundamental right in religious matters, and sectarianism bars those who have an interest from access to the fullest range of religious ideas. since both indifference and access are freedoms essential to a free university, doctrines that weaken them have no place at Harvard.

But when religion is stripped of these two features, when emphasis is placed instead upon the rich heritage of thought and value common to all sects, religion can be as much an intellectual discipline as law or mathematics, as much a rationally defensible belief as Freudianism or economic determinism. An alert intellectual community vibrates with the competition between these disciplines and beliefs, and religion deserves as much of a stake in this competition as the others.

It has not had this stake in the last few decades. The Divinity School, natural focus for religious thought, has fallen behind the other Graduate Schools, both in funds and leadership in its field. Religious activity in the entire University has suffered from the peculiar attitude of those students and professors whose notable tolerance toward diversity and dissent does not seem to extend to religion.

Undue Handicap

This attitude is all too prevalent at Harvard--prevalent among people who either do not realize or do not want to realize the value of our common religious heritage. Instead, they think of religion only in terms of sectarianism and compulsion. Their discussion of a "religious revival" consists of speculation about compulsory chapel, compulsory courses, single-sect monopolies, and revival meetings in the Yard. Shown the obvious religious elements in history, philosophy, and literature, these people reply that such things can and should be taught by professors who can be more "objective" about religion than religious men can be. Yet, they would not handicap any other field of learning in this way. Psychology at this University is taught by psychologists, medicine by doctors--each field, in fact, by people devoted to it, even devoted to certain theories in the field to the exclusion of others. Both the devotees and the theories compete, and out of this conflict comes accomplishments that add to the University's intellectual luster. Once it is admitted that the common strands in religions are useful to education, the devotees of religion, and this includes many men outside the ministry, deserve as much intellectual tolerance as anyone else.

This attitude of mind, then, manifest even high in the University administration, has had much to do with both the "low estate of religion at Harvard" and the low estate of the Divinity School. Yet even among those more tolerant toward, and interested in religion, many have feared that the Divinity School can only be reemphasized to the detriment of the other schools and fields. President Pusey unfortunately added fuel to this fear when he voiced his belief that "It is leadership in religious knowledge and religious experience--not increased industrial might, not more research facilities, certainly not these things by themselves--of which we now have a most gaping need."

We disagree with this priority, and hope the President's belief does not become Corporation policy. But given the poor shape of the Divinity School compared to the other Schools, emphasizing it now does not mean pushing it ahead of the others. Every School has been "emphasized" at some point in Harvard history. Continually under pressures to finance different fields, the Corporation should try to give each School, each line of research, equal opportunity in the intellectual competition. It is not encroachment to give a long-neglected school a million dollars on the condition that live neglected be raised from outside sources. It would, however, be encroachment to support a Divinity School that cannot raise the outside money it needs to support itself, or to extend the time limit of the School's fund drive indefinitely.

To see how the Divinity School can benefit the University without compulsion, take the example of the Law School. It is an institution for professional training and research. Its influence on the thinking of the University rises and falls with the value of the work done there and the fame of the men teaching there. Yet students with no interest in the law can, and do, ignore everything the Law School accomplishes. So can it be with religion and the Divinity School.

It should be hoped, however, that the "religious revival" will open enough pocketbooks to enable the Divinity School to raise its five million. With an augmented faculty, it then will have as much chance to influence the life of the University as the other schools. There are great minds in this country presently thinking upon religious topics. If more of them were here, the University, tolerant of their subject, could not help but sit up and take notice. Under these conditions, there is definitely room at Harvard for a religious spirit which, as long as it does not tamper with individual choice and diversity of ideas, can make a significant contribution to the purpose of the University.