Reflections on university ministry

James Moeser, Chancellor, UNC

A couple of years ago, in the wake of the great controversy over the Freshman Reading Assignment, Approaching the Qur'an, when the university was accused by some of the religious right of attempting to indoctrinate our students in the Muslim faith, we invited a group of conservative legislators who had been highly critical of the choice to meet with us on campus to discuss the issue. I met a group of them as they arrived at South Building and walked with them over to Carroll Hall, where the meeting was to take place. One of the most conservative of them started out the conversation as follows:

"Chancellor, I have been told that you are an atheist. Is that true?" I responded, "I am a lay reader in the Episcopal Church." With hardly a pause, he asked the question again. "But are you an atheist?" he insisted in asking.

Two contrary thoughts were flashing through my mind as I contemplated this question. One was to treat this like the questions to the Baptismal Covenant in the Book of Common Prayer and to answer with the first line of the Apostles' Creed, "I believe in God, the Father Almighty, creator of heaven and earth . . . ." The opposing thought was that my faith was none of his business and certainly any answer I gave could contain none of the subtlety and nuance - and yes, doubt - contained in my own personal faith. In this answer, I considered quoting St. Paul and saying, "Lord, I believe. Help thou my unbelief."

The combination of anger and the desire to maintain self-control was at such a high level that I don't remember the exact words of my response, which was to say as politely as I could that my faith was not the issue we were here to discuss.

I have often wondered in reflection on this conversation if I missed a golden opportunity to make my answer to him an expression of faith and belief that might have surprised him. This is what our evangelical friends would argue that I should have done.

I was sorely tempted to tell this sanctimonious zealot that I probably memorized more scripture growing up as a Southern Baptist than he ever imagined. But honesty would also require me to tell him that I had read Tillich, Bultmann, and Bonhoeffer, as well as the Bible, and that my own faith journey had taken me miles away from my fundamentalist roots; that I was probably closer theologically to Jack Spong than to Billy Graham. In that instantaneous moment, I decided that none of that really mattered to him. He didn't care to know what I thought or believed. Asking the pointed question was all that mattered.

My installation as chancellor was marked by a beautiful service of Morning Prayer in the Chapel of the Cross on University Day, 2000. In that service, I recommitted myself publicly to Christian service using the Baptismal Covenant - renouncing evil and affirming Jesus Christ as Lord. In response to five specific questions in that liturgy, I pledged to live out that commitment, serving Christ in all persons, striving for justice and peace among all people, and respecting the dignity of every human being.

That is what I strive to do everyday as Chancellor of the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. I have a colleague who is president of another great university who says that he knows a lot of people who want to be president, but not many who want to do president.

To me, doing the work of my faith means respecting the commitment of that Baptismal Covenant or, in the words of the scripture chosen that day, Micah 6:8:

"What doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justice, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God."

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© 2005 The Chapel of the Cross