Imagine Harvard inviting David Duke to deliver a lecture on African-American history, or Fred Phelps lecturing on gay rights, or Khalid Mohammed delivering a Hillel-funded lecture on the virtues of Judaism. Inconceivable, right? You might be surprised, however, to know that a lecture will be delivered at Memorial Church next week that will likely be just as bad as the above hypotheticals. I refer to the William Belden Noble Lecture, which this year is being given by retired Episcopal bishop John Shelby Spong.

First, a little background. In 1898, Nannie Noble established the William Belden Noble Lecture Series in honor of her late husband, a much-loved Episcopalian who had been a standout Harvard College student and who was studying for the ministry. The purpose? "[T]o continue the work of William Belden Noble, whose supreme desire was to extend the influence of Jesus as 'the Way, and the Truth and the Life,' and to make known the meaning of His words, 'I am come that they might have Life, and that they might have it more abundantly.'

"The Founder has in view the presentation of the personality of Jesus, as given in the New Testament, or unfolded in the history of the Christian Church, or illustrated in the inward experience of His followers, or as the inspiration to Christian Missions for the conversion of the world....[T]he Lecturer for each year shall be himself animated by...the hope of arousing in young men, and primarily in the students of Harvard University, the joy of service for Christ and humanity, especially in the ministry of the Christian Church."

Given this purpose, it is disturbing to note that this year's Noble Lecturer will be John Shelby Spong. In his many writings, Spong has disavowed nearly every traditional Christian belief. In his self-congratulatory A Call for a New Reformation, Spong claims that theism is dead, that Jesus was not God incarnate, that original sin is false, that the virgin birth was impossible, that miracles never happened, that the story of Christ on the cross is "a barbarian idea," that Jesus was not resurrected, that prayer does not work, that there is no heaven or hell and that there is "no external, objective, revealed standard" for moral behavior (although, curiously, racism and sexism and homophobia are objectively wrong). Spong also accused St. Paul of being a repressed homosexual and Mary of being a sexually molested teenager.

Naturally, Spong would find many at Harvard who would agree with his beliefs. But that is irrelevant. Harvard accepted Nannie Noble's substantial endowment to establish the Noble Lectures and made no complaint about her religious conditions. Spong is singularly unqualified to fulfill Noble's stipulations that the lecture present Jesus as "the Way, the Truth, and the Life," that it inspire people to "the joy of service for Christ," or that it present the "personality of Jesus, as given in the New Testament." Spong is famous only because of his contempt for the New Testament's portrayal of Jesus and for his denouncements of anyone who claims that Jesus is "the Truth."

Hardly a ringing defense of Spong's ability to fulfill Noble's conditions. That Spong was able to remain an Episcopal bishop despite his abandonment of every vestige of traditional Christianity proves only that the Episcopal Church will tolerate even those who wish to destroy its heritage.

To make matters worse, a kind of liberal racism underlies Spong's frenzied insistence on discarding Christianity in favor of what he (wrongly) perceives to be the demands of modern science. At the 1998 Lambeth Conference in England, the Anglican bishops from Africa and Asia passed several resolutions affirming the traditional Christian stance on sexuality--that sex is best expressed between a man and woman married to each other.

Spong was infuriated by Africans overriding his politically correct position on sexuality. He said of the African bishops: "They've moved out of animism into a very superstitious kind of Christianity. They've yet to face the intellectual revolution of Copernicus and Einstein[!] that we've had to face in the developing world. That's just not on their radar screen." (Of course, Spong never explained--because it is unexplainable--how heliocentricity and general relativity could possibly affect traditional Christian beliefs regarding sexuality.)

As one might expect, the African bishops were quite upset. "He is really looking down on us,'' said a Ugandan bishop. "I am portrayed as someone who does not know Scripture or doctrine.''

"If they feel patronized, that's too bad,'' replied Spong. "I'm not going to cease being a 20th century person for fear of offending somebody in the Third World.''

This contempt for disagreement is entirely typical of Spong. After a recent lecture, a friend of mine had the temerity to question Spong's casual dismissal of Genesis as unscientific. "I don't talk to fundamentalists," was Spong's reply, though such a word would hardly describe my friend.

Spong is hardly an appropriate choice to deliver a lecture founded to extend the "influence of Jesus as 'the Way, the Truth, and the Life.'" Though many people may disagree with the Noble Lectures' purpose, we should not countenance such a misuse of funds that Harvard accepted without reservation.

J. Stuart Buck is a third-year student at Harvard Law School. His is also an editor of the Harvard Law Review.