"Harkl the morning bell is pealing
Faintly on the drowsy car,
Far abroad the tidings dealing
Now the hour of prayer is near.
"Kneeling in the quiet chamber,
On the deck, or on the sod,
In the still and early morning,
'I'is the hour to worship God.
"But don't you stop to pray in secret,
No time for you to worship there,
The hour approaches--tempus fugit--
Tear your shirt or miss a prayer.
"Don't stop to wash, don't stop to button,
Go the way your fathers trod;
Leg it, put it, rush it, streak it;
Run like hell and worship God." . . . . Fiftieth Report, Class of 1886
When Harvard was an infant, its religious critics called it "intolerant"; in its youth they termed it "liberal." When it achieved manhood its nickname became "Unitarian." But middle life and recent history have made "pagan," and "Episcopal and Jewish run" more appropriate.
Throughout the history of the College which began Pro Christo et Ecclesia Religion has been a serious question and an unanswered problem.
The questions and the problems of Religion have changed, however. They have changed because Harvard is in many respects a synonym for liberalism, and because liberalism has become ever more liberal. They remain persistent and difficult.
Religion at All?
In early history the question was what kind of religion should be associated with the University. Lately the dominant question has been whether it should be so associated at all. In answering this question and its corrolaries, the Administration and the student body have affirmed that it shall; but more questions involving how it shall be so associated now face the University than perhaps at any other time in its history. These questions are important since they affect the whole idea of Harvard as a university.
This difficult problem has come about at the University for several reasons. Immediately after the war Harvard was in a religious condition that can be termed nothing less than a dilemma. On the graduate level the Divinity School was about to collapse. Phillips Brooks House--for better or for worse--had strayed far from its underlying religious principles. The head of Memorial Church, because of responsibility at the failing Divinity School, could not spend sufficient time at the Church. Most important, the religious complexion of the student body had changed radically.
On the other hand, there was and is a "religious revival" in the nation--brought about, in part, by the appeal of the church in the anxiety of the present world and in part by the increased effort of the churches to appeal to more people in more ways.
Harvard's answer to the questions thus raised has been largely in favor of Religion. Its final assurance of continuation in this direction came last spring when a man who is vitally interested in religious faith succeeded a man who was indifferent to it as President of Harvard.
The University under President Puscy has forged to fit the situation a policy of religious affirmation without compulsion. In order to understand the significance of this step and the questions that remain to be solved it is necessary to understand the general religious tenor of the Harvard of the past as well as of the present.
Beginning in Orthodoxy
Harvard was established with the rigorous religious restrictions of seventeenth century New England, and got its first large gift from a young minister--John Harvard--in 1638. But liberalism clashed with orthodoxy even at its inception. This time liberalism lost out. The college's first president, Henry Dunster, was forced to resign because of his doubts as to the validity of infant baptism. Cotton Mather, a later president wrote of him, "he fell into the briers of Antipacdobaptism."
The early records of the college contain many references to punishment of students and reprimanding of faculty and presidents for indiscreet references to the scriptures. The following was one of the regulations in 1643: Every schollar shall be present in his Tutor's Chamber at the seventh houre in the morning, immediately after the sound of the bell, at his opening the scripture and prayer. So also at the fifth houre at night, and then give account of his own private reading in the scriptures."
But the students of the seventh century and of the 200 years which followed were much like the Harvardmen of today in their dislike of and revolt against petty regulations. As a result the history of religion here during these two centuries is largely a history of revolt.
Finally, in 1886, requirement of attendance at chapel were dropped. Since that time there has been no religious compulsion. Many of the manuscripts and reports of the period immediately prior to and following this action show the general attitude to the services and the reasons that they were retained so long.
Order Without Prayers
President Eliot writes in his report of 1872-75 when the enlarging of Appleton Chapel, caused chapel services to be dropped for several months. "The Faculty . . . tried, quite involuntarily, and interesting experiment in college discipline. It has been a common opinion that morning prayers were not only right and helpful in themselves, but also necessary to college discipline, partly as a morning roll-call and partly as a means of enforcing continuous residence . . . the omission of morning prayers for nearly five months, at the time of year when the days are shortest and coldest, had no ill effects whatever on college order or discipline."
After this experience it was evident that morning prayers were not necessary to keep order. But many still were anxious to influence as many undergraduates as possible to attend chapel services even if requirements were to be lifted. A plan was proposed whereby chapel would be an unprepared elective in order to increase its appeal. In opposing this idea one person sarcastically wrote, "Only those studious minded young men who go to college for work or are conscientiously opposed to set times for prayer would be likely to choose mathematics or German instead of prayers; and these probably have least need of the prayers . . . no preparation at all is required for prayers and it therefore will be a particularly easy elective."
But the larger and more important issue was not daily chapel or religious regulation. It was Harvard's role as an essentially liberal community in an orthodox era that drew the most fire from critics.
John L. Sibley, nineteenth century librarian of the College and author of the noted "Harvard Graduates," writes in his diary on July 28, 1874, ". . . quite a sharp controversy with some persons who are trying to dissuade the H's from letting their son come to Harvard University. The real but concealed objection being the religious sentiments there. Some people said that the Institution was sectarian and that its principle purpose was to make Unitarians, who were worse than Infidels as they do not come out and proclaim their creed."
From its earliest days, the College had been associated partly in fact and widely in public opinion with the liberal severance of connections with the First Unitarian Parish, still standing across from Harvard Hall: "As the altered Chapel was found to seat as many persons as the Church of the First Parish, the exercises of Class Day and Commencement were held last June in the Chapel, instead of in the church. Then disappeared the last trace of the official connection between the College and the first parish--a connection which had been maintained in various forms for more than 200 years."
After the abolishment of required attendance at chapel, religion was left pretty much to shift for itself. Phillips Brooks House was dedicated in 1900 and Memorial Church during the 1920's but the attitude was primarily laissez faire.
Eliot's regime saw the last formal regliious requirements and Eliot himself had interest in religion mainly for its social value; Lowell, although interested in Memorial Church, had no compelling interest in the religious affairs of the school; Conant, for the most part, ignored them.
No Religious Affiliations
The rise of modern science, with the new knowledge of biology, philosophy, human nature, and the cosmos--although not itself in direct conflict with Religion--had certain implicit assumptions in conflict with the Christian world-view. This resulted in a lack of dynamism in the churches themselves and consequently a lack of emphasis at Harvard as elsewhere.
Today, Harvard has no affiliation whatsoever with any religious group. Unlike Yale, Princeton, Columbia, and other Ivy League Schools, it has no department of religion. There are, however, three main centers of religion: Phillips Brooks House, Memorial Church, and the Divinity School.
Brooks House faces a possible turning point in its history. Although it was authorized in 1893 for "religious, charitable, and social interests of the University," it has paid most attention to the charitable and social interests and dabbled little in religion.
But former Provost Buck announced last spring that the new Chairman of the Board of Preachers will direct the policy of Phillips Brooks House Buck stated that after investigating Brooks House for a number of years, he and his committee had concluded that a religious man should be placed in a direct supervisory position. This person was to provide an element of religious guidance while "still maintaining the traditional Harvard secular approach."
The Question at Brooks House
Because of disagreement with this new plan, Robert L. Fischelis '49, then graduate secretary of the house, resigned.
In a precedent-breaking move, the Brooks House Committee--consisting of various deans and professors--appointed Cornelius deW. Hastie '52, a first year student at the Episcopal Theological School as the graduate secretary, with the Corporation's approval. His appointment came in the face of earlier assurance by Provost Buck that the new secretary would not have any denominational affiliations, having been nonsectarian in the past.
The Brooks House undergraduate cabinet and the CRIMSON attacked Hastie's appointment--not objected to him personally, but disapproving or breaking long PBH precedent of non-sectarianism. But their efforts were in vain.
In Hastie's particular case the fears proved exaggerated, for he has kept all sectarianism strictly out of his work at Brooks House, even though showing a more active interest in religion.
After almost a year as graduate secretary, Hastie expressed last week his opinion of the relation of Brooks House to Memorial Church. He suggested that Memorial Church, under the new Minister, when he is appointed, be a center for Protestant Christianity in the University--combining preaching and counseling, chapel, and other specifically Christian work. Brooks House, on the other hand, would be an interfaith center for Jew and Gentile alike, with emphasis on social service. Hastie also hopes to start specifically non-sectarian debates and forums on various problems of religion at PBH.
Many of the churches in the square work quite closely with Brooks House. Some of the individual denominational social projects count for membership in The House through special arrangements.
Memorial Church has in the past few years been used almost exclusively for Sunday and daily morning, services. According to present plans for the future, a new professor of Christianity will act as Chairman of the Board of Preachers and Paster of the Church, as well as teaching in the college.
Many feel that the job at the church is enough for one man and that the professor should be a different person, Although President Pusey is considering this objection, nothing specific has been decided as yet.
Much of the church's future function will depend on the man chosen to fill the post. It has been open for over a year since former Dean Willard L. Sperry retired. President Pusey expects to work at filling the position this summer and hopes to have chosen a man by next September.
The Divinity School, under the leadership of acting dean George II. Williams, is undergoing a complete rejuvenation.
After the last war the school was practicaly dead. Most of its faculty were ready for retirement; the capital funds had remained practically stationary for 50 years; and the student body had increased by only six since 1920. A committee of educators and alumni, headed by John Lord O'Brien '96, was appointed by President Conant to consider whether the school could be salvaged.
Complete Renovation Needed
They recommended that the school not be abolished, that patching it up wasn't enough, that it must be completely revamped, and that Harvard must become a new center of religious learning.
Many were skeptical about the plans. The proposed endowment of $7,000,000 looked impossible. Other schools--especially Yale Divinity School, Union Technological Seminary at Columbia, and the Federated Theological Faculty of the University of Chicago--had money, top students, fine reputations, and famous teachers. Harvard Divinity School had become a virtual non-entity. Some suggested that the school be dropped altogether and that a sort of graduate study program in theology--similar to the Nieman Fellows in journalism--be set up in its place.
Yet, with Harvard's libraries, prestige, faculty, proximity to cultural and metropolitan Boston, and relations with nearby denominational schools of theology, the Divinity School had the potential to rival, if not surpass these other schools, and also to regain equal footing with the other graduate schools of the University.
The University decided to go ahead with the Committee's plans, and the present activity at the School is an indication of the result.
The endowment drive, given impetus by the Rockefeller gift of $1,000,000, is prospering. Also, the tuition will be raised from $150 to $400 per year beginning next fall, bringing the cost of Harvard theological education up to that of Yale and Union.
Professor from Other Schools
Ironically enough, the heads of Union and Yale Seminaries, Henry P. Van Dusen and Liston pope, on the committee which is searching for a new dean for the School, must face seeing Harvard threatening literally to seal their best professors from under their noses. Paul Tillich's world-famous professor of Philosophical Theology from Union, will come here next year as a University Professor Tillich's presence on the faculty will immediately increase the Divinity School's prestige.
President Pusey has been talking with several other professors for the deanship and teaching here, such as David E. Roberts, professor at Union.
The retirement of many old professors, the imminent appointment of a new dean, and the placing of new professors gives the School an opportunity to revamp its teaching program although, supplementing its traditional historical approach with more modern methods of training.
It is evident that the Divinity School should easily recover and regain its status not only here, but in comparison with the other centers of theological training.
Outside the University proper, there are over a dozen churches circling the Square, which serve the needs of student. The largest groups are the Episcopal, the Jewish, and the Roman Catholic, respectively. These carry on weekly worship services, discussion groups, service projects, production of plays, social functions, and retreats, B'nal B'rith Hillel Foundation, for instance, conducts special freshman receptions, dinners, and arts and crafts groups, as well as weekly forums, and periodic retreats under the leadership of Rabbis Maurice Zigmond and Phineas Kadushin. Although these groups have no official connection with the University, they work with it closely through the United Ministry to Students.
Feeney a Grim Warning
Perhaps the most telling indication of the religious interest of the community is an enumeration of the various controversies of the past year.
Feeneyism is a much discussed topic. Leonard J. Feeney is a constant reminder of what Harvard as a whole never became and of what religious bias can do to a man and his followers living at war with society. His only influence today is in providing the University community with a warning and with something about which to laugh grimly.
The protest against the possible new order of things at the appointment of Hastie at PBH has been mentioned before. The fear exemplified in this controversy that religion was to be forced upon students was intensified when students learned of the religious background of Pusey, the new president.
Nathan Marsh Pusey is a religious man. As president of Lawrence College, he affirmed "Lawrence College was founded and is still really motivated on the principle that God is the central fact in our universe." As far as he is concerned, this holds true for Harvard too. The original meaning of Veritas, "although it must be translated somewhat in reference to our times," essentially holds today. "The word 'Veritas' originally signified not only scientific truth, but also divine truth. A new conception of truth has become prevalent with positivism, but this is not the truth of Veritas, which expresses the truth of the totality of human experience. In a sense, God and truth are synonymous."
To Make Facilities Available
Students and faculty alike were at first afraid that Pusey might attempt to reestablish compulsory chapel or assembly similar to that which to conducted at Lawrence. But he has made clear that he is not interested in compulsion or revivalism in the prayer-meeting sense. But he is intensely interested in providing facilities for religious study and participation for those who want them.
A statement which he made at Lawrence indicates his general interest, "I do not believe in a lot of moralistic preaching any more than our students do, nor do I wish to promote any particular creed or a new revivalism. But at the same time I feel an obligation to help students to become conscious, if they have not already done so, of the spiritual potentiality they have within them, and to know that life lived at a merely human level is not very satisfactory life for men."
Perhaps the most amusing controversy has been the "piety controversy" at the Divinity School Student Association, J. Frank Schulman 3Dv. asked for more religious interest among the students, proposing that the association open meetings with prayer.
This caused an immediate protest by large faction of the school which charged Schulman with advocating "too much piety." Petitions followed and a meeting of the association was called. Finally, after long discussion Schulman cast the deciding vote in a tie ballot and succeeded in tabling a motion that "no religious activities precede business meetings unless they are specifically called for by a majority vote of the association."
Much tension and hard feeling resulted which led to the temporary firing of the editor of the association's newspaper. Finally, however, tension seemed to quite down and the Divinity students were again at peace with each other. But this too was a lesson in revolt against enforced religion even by those who might be expected to advocate it.
Many New Religious Clubs
There has been during the past year a wave of organization of new religious groups. The DcMaloy Club, a junior organization of the Masons, while not specifically religious, has very strong underlying religious principles. It was approved by the Student Council in January. A group which call themselves "The Saintly Sinners" have organized to "meet occasionally in Cronin's and talk about religion." The Harvard Episcopal Society, representing the largest single religious group in the student body was organized last spring to gain for the Episcopal groups the advantages of official University recognition.
The Appleton Club, originally a nonsectarian group for those students interested in religion but not attached to any specific denomination exists at present "only in the files," because of lack of sufficient support and interest from the sponsors. The officers are waiting for the appointment of the new Preacher at Memorial Church in order to work with him to build the group around the church and it proposed activities.
Even the faculty seems to be organizing Kirtley F. Mather, professor of Geology, is chairman of a national organization formed last year, The Faculty Christian Fellowship. This is a loosely knit organization of professors throughout the country who have a concern for understanding the relation of religious commitment to objective teaching. It aims to discover the "implications of Christianity for the work of the teacher."
Professor Ian G. Barbour writes about the group in the Christian Century, "Is the University today really neutral, or open it tend to have an implied Weltan schauung? Why is it that the mention of a Christian view is often criticized whereas a logical positivist may be dogmatic and even militant in the expression of his faith? Partly because many teachers may not realize that they have presuppositions. . . Should we not encourage rather than discourage the discussion of convictions on the ultimate issues involved?"
The way in which the professors will go about solving these problems, particularly at Harvard, has not been made clear. But such an organization points out the intense interest even in the faculty. It also indicates a potential danger.
Over two years ago the Eliot House Chapel was organized in a basement room in the House in order to provide morning and evening prayers and devotional services. Although the chapel is used by Catholics, Protestants, and Episcopalians, the group which started it and continues to retain the most interest in it is Episcopal. In the fall of 1952 a similar group was established in a basement room of Matthews Hall for freshmen, also by predominantly Episcopalian interests.
There have been other evidences of increased religious interest and participation. More forums have been held by religious groups themselves on the relation of religion to democracy and to education than in past years. Whereas the Student Placement Office traditionally held a small afternoon conference to enable students to meet with clergymen and discuss the ministry as a career, this year it scheduled a full-fledged evening conference.
Last year when the Episcopal Theological School held a conference on the ministry, Frederic B. Kellogg, Episcopal Chaplain to students at Harvard and Radcliffe, sent out cards to various Episcopal students in the college, expecting perhaps 15 or 20 to attend. To his amazement 65 turned up. Twenty-five others wrote that they were busy but would like to come at some other time.
The religious complexion of the University, which has been so much commented on recently is an outgrowth and a reflection of the social scene in the nation as well as here. A significant number of College students are members of upper-middle and lower-upper class families. The religious complexion of these families in the nation is primarily Episcopalian and Jewish. As a result the predominant religious membership on the campus is Episcopalian and Jewish. In addition, a large portion of the student body in the College each year graduates from the many New England Episcopal prep schools, such as Groton, St. Paul's St. Mark's Kent, and St. George's, adding to the number of those with at least nominal Episcopal interest.
This, coupled with the predominantly Christian tradition of the University and the fact that the President, most of the Corporation and Overseers, most of the College Deans, and a large part of the alumni are Episcopalian has caused many to charge that the University is being taken over by them. This seems particularly ironical after centuries of identification of Harvard with Unitarianism.
At the other extreme are the Feeney type charges that the Jews are taking Over the University. Certainly neither of these groups is attempting to capture Harvard.
It is interesting to note how this religious affiliation is divided among the various schools of the University. In the College and the Business School, the primary affiliation is with the Episcopal Church; in the Law School, the Medical School, and the GSAS, on the other hand, it is primarily Jewish.
Perhaps the most significant questions concerning religion, however, concern its relation to the University intellectually. Many have advocated that religion, an unscientific--often superstitious institution which has divided the nation into sects, and has as often done harm as good has no place in academic life. They have charged that its sectarianism and the personal commitment of those who teach it would tend to violate the very principles of academic freedom and inquiry on which the University stakes so much importance. No matter where religion would be taught, it would tend to force itself upon students.
Again, according to these critics, religious instruction is not the way to "become religious." It is quite possible to get all A's in Religion and to be completely irreligious, for as has been stated above, a person's knowledge of religion does not imply that he himself is religious.
But, on the other hand, religion is most important part of the nation's history, its background, and its present couture. Though the church may have become somewhat emasculated in many respect its membership is growing constantly.
Also there is for more discussion of religion and related subjects today. The search for an answer--for a meaning to life--and the widespread interest in existentialism have caused still further interest. Time Magazine in its article "The Younger Generation" in 1951, commented, "There is no formal religious revival among the young. God, for most young Americans, is still a vaguely comforting thought, theology a waste of time, and denominations beside the point. . . But God has once more become a factor in the younger generation's thoughts. The old argument of religion v. science is subsiding; a system which does not make room for both makes little sense to today's younger generation. It is no longer shockingly unfashionable to discuss God."
Harvard has recognized this. The Report of the Committee on General Education in a Free Society said that any study of general education which is historically grounded must include religion as one of the powerfully formative elements of our culture.
"Education is not complete without
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