Michel de Montagine, living in a France racked by sanguinary religious and civil war, wrote with a tolerance rare for his day: "It is setting a very high price on one's conjectures to burn a man alive for them. The skeptical Catholic would probably be delighted at the temper which prevails on the Harvard faculty today; for even the most convinced believers sharply divorce teaching from proselytizing, much less contemplating coercion by brand and faggot.

The University has become a sanctuary where one can avoid sectarian evangelism--a temple where the representatives of all creeds say prayers before the altar of Tolerance before laying their votive scholarship on the altar of Truth.

The pedagogical corollaries of Harvard's apotheoisis of tolerance are subscribed to by Faculty members of diverse beliefs and non-beliefs. In teaching history the lecturer divorces, as much as possible, personal evaluation from more antiseptic exposition; in elementary philosophy the conflicting claims to truth are all laid before the student; in courses on religious philosophy or writing the professor teaches about religion, and does not attempt to inculcate belief.

Philosophy May Shake Faith

Raphael Demos, Alford Professor of Natural Religion, Moral Philosophy and Civil Polity, introduces freshmen and upper-classmen to the various doctrines of philosophy in Philosophy 1. For the freshman, especially one who comes from a relatively sheltered religious background, the introduction to such thinkers as Spinoza and Hume may prove novel and disquieting. Demos admits some students may be shaken by an introduction to skepticism.

"In philosophy you cannot avoid it. We are going to question the student's dearest beliefs," Demos states. "I don't try to protect the freshmen, but I don't attempt to ram the ideas into them. I try to examine also the assumptions on which science is built. Our job is to examine everything."

This last sentence summarizes the dominant spirit of the College, even for the believers. Demos's method in teaching Phil. 1 reflects the divorce of believing and teaching which characterizes much of the faculty's approach. Demos admits frankly that he is "a believer," and he says furthermore, "Everybody who believes something should try to convert everybody else. I don't believe you should try to dissociate belief from the missionary spirit."

Yet Demos admittedly does not try to convert in his philosophy class. His self-described role is that of the actor, speaking for the various philosophers. For the instructor, the role of the believer yields to that of the impartial spokesman expounding the bits of wisdom and insight which each philosopher offers. The values of teaching many philosophical claims to truth thus take precedence over the teaching of the professor's own convictions.

Problems Arise in History

Other areas besides philosophy present similar problems. Conflicting evaluations in history, in psychological theory, in meanings of literary works, present problems for any professor; he must resolve the tension between his role as apostle and his role as expositor. This tension becomes evident in courses such as History 130, "Renaissance and Reformation," in which the problems of historical interpretation are augmented by those of divergent religious claims. Myron P. Gilmore, professor of History, admits that "It is not the business of the historian to inculcate belief." Gilmore does admit in History 130 that he has sympathies, chiefly with More and Erasmus, but he is sure to indicate that he is speaking "extra-historically." Gilmore probably speaks for the vast majority of the Faculty when he says, "I don't think anyone should give a course in the Faculty of Arts and Sciences qua Lutheran or qua Catholic."

By common agreement the University is "secular" and its teaching function toward the undergraduate demands that religious preconceptions be discounted as much as possible. Gilmore gives an example of the different ways in which a church and a university handle momentous intellectual questions: "Augustine would never say to Pelagius, 'Let us examine your position on grace, Pelagius ...' as Socrates would say to Thrasmymachus, 'Let us examine your position on virtue.' The atmosphere of the University," Gilmore holds, "must be the Platonic rather than the Augustinian one."

Questioning Is Healthy

Such a view of university teaching is held by Christopher Dawson, Charles Chauncey Stillman Guest Professor of Roman Catholic Studies. Dawson states that "It is healthy to extend examination to one's faith," as the University demands of the undergraduate. Presumably, such a strong Catholic as Dawson sees questioning as leading to a salutary strengthening of faith; if such examination led to disillusionment and apostasy a Catholic might see the student as ill-fitted for the relativism which the University offers.

Demos admits that the relativism offered at Harvard may not be a universal panacea, in fact may be unhealthy for some minds. "I assume that Harvard students can take it; they are supposed to be to tough intellectually. On the whole for Harvard students, who have time to reflect, the period of doubting may be helpful." Demos, however, is not convinced of the value of such doubting for everyone. "I've often wondered whether philosophy courses should be given in high school. For those who don't plan to go on to college, and will not have time for such reflection, it may not be good to introduce disturbing thoughts." Such a view implies a fairly elitist view of knowledge and philosophy; but there is agreement by both Demos and Dawson that the student who is qualified to come to Harvard is able, in Demos's phrase, to have "his religion buffeted by the winds of reason." The split between classroom exposition and classroom conversion is only one factor contributing to the College relativism. Demos says that in Harvard's case 'Veritas means that we are committed to nothing." Yet even those members of the University who are "committed men," who, like Demos, do believe, often see the critical examination of ideas as the best method for arriving at truth. Reverend George A. Buttrick, Preacher to the the University, sees truth arising "from the friction of friendly minds." Thus the University becomes almost a playing field where issues of possibly eternal salvation and damnation are gentlemanly tossed around by polite opponents. The danger with this method, however, is clear. If University discussion takes on the atmosphere of a sporting match, too often momentous ideas can become mere playthings.

Courses About Religion Approved