The Calculus of Faith

After attending Harvard for nearly three years, hearing that the First-Year Social Committee was planning an “Anything but Clothes Party” on Good Friday came as a small surprise. I realize that not everyone here is Christian and that even though the majority of Harvard students would claim a Christian family heritage, their faith does not play a significant role in their lives. I would also venture that this is true of students who are from other religious backgrounds but do not necessarily keep kosher, fast on Ramadan and abstain from alcohol, or worship the various Hindu deities.

What I find most puzzling is that lack of religion among students is only endemic to Harvard and its peer institutions such as Yale. Seven out of 10 college students say that religion is important or very important in their lives, according to the national survey of college student attitudes conducted by Harvard’s Institute of Politics. The report even goes as far as to say, “Students are one of the more religious and spiritual groups in American politics today.” And according to Facebook.com, the Bible is the third most frequently listed favorite book by college students, but only 237 Harvard undergraduates list the Bible as one of their favorite books. Six students list the Torah, two the Koran, 20 anything dealing with Buddha, and nine the Mahabharata. Unlike our counterparts at other schools, we are not interested in religious texts.

Could it be a coincidence that Harvard, a highly intellectual campus, harbors condescension towards anything that reeks of religion? Aside from their stellar SAT scores, Harvard students are distinguished from students elsewhere by their intellectual capacity, which demands explanations for everything and refuses to accept anything on mere faith. “If I saw Jesus walk on water, I would believe it—but unless I do, why would I believe it?” exclaimed a friend of mine.

Such a skeptical attitude is understandable, as it is nurtured in academia. After all, students of science conduct experiments and rely on the results in order to prove their findings; mathematicians use deductive logic to prove their theorems; humanities majors strive to include supporting evidence in their essays . Since our minds are trained from a young age to require evidence, proof, and arguments before accepting a concept, theorem, or idea as legitimate, it is natural and expected that we employ this method when addressing matters of religion.

While I cannot criticize the analytical approach of most Harvard students, I lament that people who employ this approach tend to look down on those who simply accept that certain events happened or that certain ideas are true based on faith. This condescension is somewhat related to but not exactly akin to the cultural superiority felt by East Coast latte-drinking liberals towards country music-loving, church-going red state residents, but it manifests itself in a more subtle manner.

This attitude was exhibited by someone who assumed that because I accept Christianity on faith, I do not critically question or re-evaluate ideas on other subjects. He said, “To be religious you have to accept the narrative that was handed to you. I constantly question the narrative and re-evaluate it, in order to find the truth. You see, we have fundamentally different approaches to the narrative.” Although this person told me that he was not insinuating that either approach was “better,” I felt as though he had labeled my thought process as being intellectually inferior. He took the fact that I accept my religion on faith and, not knowing me very well, concluded that I take this general approach of blindly accepting such narratives and explanations in all aspects of my life.

It is inevitable that intellect and faith will clash, especially in interactions among some of the most inquisitive minds of our generation who happen to reside on this campus. But when this happens, I ask that those who do not adhere to any faith refrain from labeling those who do as lacking intellectual validity in their thought processes.

And in all fairness, Christians and people of other faiths should be willing to engage in intellectual conversations with those who are curious. My non-religious friend attended a Christian retreat and asked questions such as, “Why would the Supreme Being who created this universe really care if you had sex before marriage?” He was dismayed and turned away from religion because he observed that the Christians “clammed up and became uncomfortable” and did not seem to appreciate that he was asking so many questions. While these questions are difficult for Christians because they force us to question our own faith, it is important to address them in a climate as intensely intellectual as Harvard and try not to be offended when people ask them.

Perhaps there will always be a divide between intellect and faith. But for those of us who consider both of these characteristics to be part of our identity, it is crucial that we find a way to reconcile the two. It would be nice if this campus were a place that did not merely tolerate us, but appreciated our intellectual contributions. And when it does, we must be willing to contribute.



Loui Itoh ’07 is a government and comparative study of religion concentrator in Quincy House. Her column appears on alternate Wednesdays.