Why the Liberal Arts Matter

an encouragement for teachers and (lifelong) students

Author’s note: I have removed the name and age of my professor, the name of the course I took, as well as some political comments, so as not to distract from the overall larger point. Otherwise, these emails remain unedited, and are published with his permission. The liberal arts matter!

Henry IV requests mediation from Matilda of Tuscany and abbot Hugh of Cluny. Source: Medievalists.net

January 1, 2021

Dear Dr. B,

You won’t remember me, but I was a student of yours back in 1985-86. The reason I am writing at a start of a new year is to thank you. A class you taught literally changed my life. Let me try to explain.

After a brief stint in the Army, I have been a minister in conservative Protestant circles for the last 25+ years. Throughout my ministry, I have always found myself a bit of a non-conformist and very often perplexed at the thinking of my colleagues. In particular, when it came to matters of means-and-ends, I seem to have been more sensitive to the need to consider the righteousness of the means we pursued, not just the desired goals.

Usually this played itself out in matters of mundane church polity and my trying to ensure that power was not abused. These past five or six years, however, it come to a head with the utterly perplexing embrace of… moral relativism (in regards to politics). I simply could not get my head around it nor did they seem to understand my objections. 

So, of course, I have tried to listen and give people the benefit of the doubt… but one thing I came to realize is that I had had an influence - a benefit - many of my colleagues simply did not have, and I have had to remind myself of that.

What was that benefit? Very specifically, a freshman seminar you taught in the fall of 1985. There were six of us, and we met in a small room off the East Campus library. I remember my fellow students vividly and that we studied three subjects: the Investiture Controversy, the Albigensian persecution, and a third I honestly cannot remember.

I do remember the mock trials you had us reenact and that I did spectacularly poorly in them. You also insisted that I write well and fairly and made me redo an entire paper - about the best prescription an arrogant young freshman could receive. But what I realized is that the essential thesis of that class is something I have imbibed and assumed my entire life: that righteous ends must be pursued by righteous means. That power is easily and readily abused by just about anyone who has it. And that the Church has very often been the worst abuser in Western history. That is hard for many of my colleagues to see or understand - in part, because they did not have the privilege to study it as I did.

Beyond the classroom, you always had time for me in your office or over in that little cafe by Epworth. You also lent me a little book by Thomas Kelly entitled, “A Testament of Devotion,” which I have re-read several times, and even included in a book on Christian humility I wrote a few years back. A little bit of Quaker influence never hurt anyone. I have also repeatedly referred to a sermon you had us read, “On Hailstones” by Johann Brenz. Some things just stick with you, even 35 years later.

So: thank you. The influence you had on my life and ministry has been considerable, along with the scholarship and kindnesses of Roland Witt, Peter Wood, I.B. Holley, and over in the Divinity School, George Marsden and David Steinmetz. I am extraordinarily grateful for all the patient instruction from each of them. I have stayed in touch a bit with Dr. Marsden and Bishop Will Willimon, both of whom have been very kind. I was also able to write Dr. Holley a thank you note before he passed, but, regrettably, not Dr. Witt. What a gentle man.

I am trying to just plug away in the ministry for a bit more, but with an open hand if God would lead elsewhere. Thankfully, we have a very loving and healthy congregation. My wife, Kirstan (Duke ‘90), and I have two daughters, one a pianist and the other an artist. They also are a blessing.

Again, I want to thank you for your influence on my life and helping me avoid some of the pitfalls common in my circles. I am sure there are other errors in which I am still enmeshed which I don’t yet see, but I trust, in the end, there is grace for that, too. I also know that when I get discouraged, a timely note from some forgotten old church member can be a balm for my soul.

Congratulations on your long, dedicated and fruitful career at Duke. It seems that you kept up your passion for teaching and have been a blessing to many.

Sincerely,

Chris Hutchinson, Duke ‘89

~~~~~

January 8, 2021

Dear Chris, 

What a heart-warming, thoughtful letter… I have been taken aback, and put into a pensive mood thinking about all that you have written. It’s a lifetime that goes into a letter like yours. As a teacher, it’s what I live for, to be honest.   

In the moment, one doesn’t know what the impact of a class, a mentorship, even a conversation might be… and often this isn’t known for years & years. It takes the kind of reflectiveness and self-examination that you show to perhaps recognize the influences that have gone into a life, and an outlook. 

First things first. I’m delighted to hear about your life & how you now see your Duke education. Ah… the list of professors you mention… all dear friends, some even my own mentors (like Witt), all of them influential for me as well. And several are no longer with us, having passed away in the recent past. I was most affected by Ron Witt’s death in the spring of 2017. He shaped me – like he shaped you. I think – no, I know – he would be honored and moved to hear how you look upon his teaching and his influence on you while you were an undergrad. Very special indeed… 

Your reflections on our seminar together on power in the Middle Ages… this is exactly why a liberal arts education is important. Sometimes one doesn’t know the influence, how it shapes one’s outlook until much, much later in life. It is training, broadening, education for life… What you write about your own struggles within the church over the political expediency of recent years (among some Christians) is very moving.  

As you note, it’s so very, very easy to sacrifice conscience and principle and even faith in almost an unknowing, subtle set of changes. The other part of the equation here is our capacity – as humans – to rationalize our behavior, even when it’s so obviously wrong or even evil. It must be agonizing for you to see this at work in your faith community. 

We are actually witnessing this very same drama on a larger scale in the country now…and they too have often arrived at this alarming place because of compromises with raw power, for lots of seemingly “good” reasons… Evil works this way, doesn’t it?

On a faith level, your note took me to another thought. That what you are experiencing is a gift. A little act of grace. Even if painful and dark. Have you ever read John of the Cross’s Dark Night of the Soul? It’s not that the work is about pain and suffering and the difficulties of life – though this is part of it. It’s that dark nights are an inevitable part of the spiritual life, the serious spiritual path to God. Sometimes there are things that are only visible or to be heard or sensed clearly in the dark, in the night…   

Don’t forget, though, that your ministry also does a world of good for people. I’m sure it has touched many, probably in ways that you yourself don’t know or can’t see or perhaps will never know. It’s often knowledge we are not meant to have, for good reasons. 

So thank you, friend. Your note arrives at a time of transition for me, a life transition. I’m at a stage of life when I want to concentrate on the things I love, like teaching & writing. And enjoy as much time as I can with my wife and family.

So your note makes me realize again why I love teaching, why it is a kind of “ministry” for me. It’s my own vocation, if you will…

Are you ever down Durham way? I’d love to see you, have you over to the house, chat, whatever. We go back 30 years after all and that’s something precious. 

All my very best wishes to you and your family. You’re an inspiration,

B