I recently walked home from a morning church meeting with a friend. Passing the duck pond, we chatted about the meetings we had just attended, upcoming assignments, and this semester’s International Cinema lineup. After a thoughtful pause in the conversation, she asked, “Does the idea that BYU needs to separate itself from the world ever bother you?” She was referencing rhetoric from modern Church leaders that suggests BYU should place spiritual enlightenment ahead of the pursuit of academic excellence. This was a question I hadn’t ever considered, at least not in those terms. However, I had noticed this idea popping up in talks and lessons around campus. For example, in a campus devotional last month, President Dallin H. Oaks shared a quote from Spencer W. Kimball: “We must be willing to break with the educational establishment (not foolishly or cavalierly, but thoughtfully and for good reason) in order to find gospel ways to help mankind.” I view this quote as not encouraging a split from academica for religious reasons, but definitely not discouraging one. Elder Holland put it blatantly in his university conference address last August, stating that BYU must stay unequivocally true to the Gospel of Jesus Christ: “If at a future time that mission means foregoing some professional affiliations and certifications, then so be it.” My friend continued, expressing her frustration that BYU’s dual goals—to provide world-class education in a faith-filled environment—seemed increasingly incompatible. After thinking about this issue more, I don’t think that we have to see secular intellectualism and spirituality as mutually exclusive.
Unfortunately, the fear of a fundamental incompatibility between secular knowledge and religious belief is not new to BYU. This struggle is particularly evident in the Church and BYU’s wrestle with the scientific theory of evolution. Although the Church has never taken an official stance on evolution, for many years Church members generally believed that evolution was a false tradition, a scientific fad that undermined the idea that God created us in His own image. Prominent church leaders didn’t hesitate to share their disdain for the evil of evolution. We need only glance at the margins of Joseph F. Smith’s copy of Darwin’s Descent of Man to find scribbled comments like “Argument of a fool!” or “This argument is disgusting!” Additionally, Bruce R. McConkie condemned belief in evolution in his book Mormon Doctrine, which many members once viewed as an authoritative summary of the Church’s beliefs. Ezra Taft Benson even took the opportunity in a regional fireside to denounce a BYU professor who had written an article highlighting the Church’s lack of an official statement concerning evolution.
From 1907 to 1909, BYU president George Brimhall hired new faculty in a deliberate attempt to build up BYU’s academic reputation and reinvigorate the student body. It worked, at least temporarily. Four professors—two pairs of brothers, Joseph and Henry Peterson and Ralph and William Chamberlin—led an intellectual revolution at BYU. They were sincere believers, but they encouraged and facilitated thoughtful discussions on politics, philosophy, scripture, and biology—including Darwinian evolution. But, the new professors’ enthusiasm and the student body’s growing excitement toward intellectualism alarmed Church headquarters. In order to protect the faith of students, church leaders thought it safest to remove the Peterson and Chamberlin brothers from their roles. Outraged by what he viewed as a blatant violation of academic freedom, Ralph Chamberlin responded, “If you can bring me one student whose faith I have injured in Mormonism, I will bring you five that you, through your narrowness, have driven out of the church.”
A new chapter of cooperation between knowledge and faith at BYU began in the 1970s, when the university reinstated the teaching of evolution and started rebuilding its academic reputation. This was due in large part to the work of a genetics professor, Dr. Duane Jeffery, who, despite receiving consistent criticism from those outside the scientific community, introduced Darwinian evolution as a key concept in BYU’s science courses. Today, BYU holds a strong academic reputation, and in many respects is at the forefront of biological and scientific research.
Truth isn’t always static. Scientific knowledge is constantly formed and reformed. New breakthroughs often alter our understanding of well-established facts. We must learn to feel comfortable with competing ideas, even in our knowledge of the gospel of Jesus Christ. In one instant, Christ expresses appreciation for all peacemakers; later, Christ declares that He hasn’t come to give peace on earth, “Nay; but rather division” (Luke 12:51). In one of the most tender scriptures in the New Testament, Christ invites all those that are burdened to find rest. Shortly thereafter, Christ demands that if one wants to follow Him, he must “deny himself, and take up his cross” (Matthew 16:24). We are assured that we should “take no thought for the morrow” (Matthew 6:34). At the same time, one of Christ’s most famous parables criticizes five foolish virgins who didn’t quite put enough thought into the morrow. These teachings reflect the importance of continuing revelation—in other words, being open to change.
Part of our discipleship is facing and embracing contradiction. We believe that God “will yet reveal many great and important things pertaining to the Kingdom of God,” and that the things He does reveal will come bit by bit. We are doing our best to work with the information we have at the time, in both our academic inquiries and in our spiritual lives.
“Organize yourselves; prepare every needful thing; and establish a house, even a house of prayer, a house of fasting, a house of faith, a house of learning, a house of glory, a house of order, a house of God.” As a house of faith, BYU must also be a house of learning.
As believers in Christ, we are called to walk the fine line between boldness and overbearance, to show moderation in all things except love. I am a BYU student, and I recognize that these tensions exist. I run into them in late-night chats with my roommates. I hear them in campus devotionals and in my religion classes. I hear them in whispers in the library and on walks home from church meetings. But, I feel overwhelming confidence that through patience, patience, and patience, truth will be made manifest. As seen in BYU’s grapples with evolution, some issues can take decades to reach equilibrium; in the meantime, it is our responsibility to wholeheartedly embrace contradiction, refusing to let go of either gospel or academic pursuits.