| Jerry Falwell never betrayed an iota of irony, reflexivity or doubt. In the decade I spent covering the Religious Right, Pat Robertson once admitted that he didn't really hear God's voice and Jimmy Swaggart would plaintively ask if I still were still a Jew, but Falwell never dropped his mask. Always a man on a mission, Falwell ticked off goals that initially seemed implausible: start a grass-roots movement of religious conservatives, check; become a national spokesman and political power broker, check; spearhead a landmark First Amendment case, check; turn a small Bible college into a national Christian university, check. But though his goals were met, they were never fully realized: the Moral Majority fell apart after a decade or so; the press looked to Falwell less for his leadership than because he gave good quote (he blamed 9/11 on pagans, abortionists, feminists, gays and the ACLU); his failed suit against Hustler strengthened free speech guarantees; and his beloved Liberty University was $110 million in debt and on academic probation by the 1990s.
By the time Falwell died in 2007, the university's finances had improved, and since then its academic fortunes also have risen. John W. Kennedy lays out the story in Christianity Today, pinning the school's improvement on the leadership of Falwell's sons: Jerry Jr. and Jonathan. Kennedy provides an overly upbeat picture (his discussion of the university's decision to disband the College Democrats club is cursory, as is his reportage on the school's academic standing—how does Liberty plan to improve when it accepts 94 percent of applicants?). But Kennedy signals several angles worth a second look.
The first story is the degree to which the "new evangelicalism" has penetrated the bulwarks of fundamentalism. Falwell senior happily used the F-word, and his sermons and public comments frequently reflected the movement's myopia and insularity. Jerry Jr and Jonathan, while not explicitly repudiating their father's proclivities, seem headed in a different direction. What this signals for the social and cultural engagement of the next generation of religious conservatives bears tracking.
The second story Kennedy alludes to is the fate of Christian colleges. Liberty University may be up and coming, but what about the 110 other members of the Council for Christian Colleges and Universities? If Harvard and Yale are experiencing budget hits, what's going on at Azusa Pacific and Wheaton? Again, Christianity Today provides some answers—and trajectories for additional reporting.
Among the Christian schools' strategies for survival are new programs that tap non-traditional students—whether through long distance education, specialized degrees (often business majors that can be done at night, on weekend or in summer classes) and other innovative interdisciplinary offerings. Capitalizing on growing evangelical concern for the environment, Lipscomb University opened an institute offering degrees in environmental sustainability.
The legacy media took great glee in reporting Jerry Falwell's preposterous quotes and provocative stands. But it has been less interested in religious leaders who offer pragmatic programs and low-key leadership. With the proliferation of online sites, reporters now have the opportunity to explore the full range of evangelical expression. Is the younger generation truly up to something new, or is it the same old, same old with a friendlier face? Even Christianity Today isn't saying.
Diane Winston |