News

Professor Dwight N. Hopkins introducing a panel at a conference, held in the third floor lecture hall in 2011.

My first visit to the University of Chicago campus came in 1993 for my interview and job talk. At the time, I was teaching in Silicon Valley, and this was my first encounter with the Divinity School and Swift Hall. I already knew something about the intellectual world I was entering. I had read David Tracy’s theories and methods because my PhD adviser deeply admired his work. And anyone working in the academic study of religion in the United States could have had their AAR membership revoked if they did not know the name Martin Marty.

My talk addressed the theory and method of U.S. Black liberation theology. Even as a guest, I received direct and challenging questions. I do not remember them all, but I vividly remember the intellectual and embodied energy of those conversations and the way they challenged my own habits of thought. 

In fact, there is only one faculty member I clearly remember sitting in that audience. He asked whether U.S. Black liberation theology was sui generis. For me, this was a foundational insight aimed at the jugular vein of my project. I sensed that this faculty member (later, a colleague and friend) was testing me in two ways. On one level, he was probing my logic. On another, he was testing whether I knew the classical language of Western intellectual life. 

That moment revealed something essential about Swift Hall: its culture of open conversation. 

Perhaps best personified by our late colleague David Tracy, this culture requires a willingness to listen carefully to the other and the ability to respond to their full argument, especially the strongest points against one’s own position. That posture applies to any topic. 

I also think of the Divinity School, and the University of Chicago more broadly, as unique in its steadfast commitment to teaching students how to think rather than what to think. When I joined the faculty in the fall of 1995, it would have been difficult to know faculty members’ personal views on contemporary political or ideological questions. We debated ideas across the spectrum, and it was not unusual for faculty to argue rigorously for positions with which they personally disagreed.

Theoretical and methodological concerns were always front and center in these discussions, though at times the conversation spilled into political agreements and disagreements. Yet even after sharp and direct debates over research, facts, and interpretation, we would still go out to lunch or dinner together.

I had never before witnessed such disciplined care for the arguments of those with whom we disagreed. 

This combination of sharp debate and generous camaraderie defines what it means to be a faculty member or student at the Divinity School. We are tough-minded and tender-hearted. 

Once, a former Divinity School dean asked me to present a paper on my research at our annual faculty retreat. One colleague asked me directly what distinguished my notion of “culture” from the notion of culture held by Joseph Goebbels, the Nazi minister of propaganda. After the session, I sought him out and asked what theoretical moves he would recommend so that readers of my future book would not have the same question. 

The anecdote illustrates a basic principle of life in Swift Hall: although we read sacred texts, no topic is too sacred for critical inquiry. No topic enjoys an a priori status. No individual or intellectual position is exempt from scrutiny because of assumed moral authority. As a community of scholars, our first responsibility is to the intellectual culture and habits of Swift Hall.

This toughness of mind, generosity of spirit, and habit of conversation in Swift Hall won me over more than thirty years ago. I hope that younger faculty and current students will carry this tradition forward for many years to come.

Read additional faculty reflections upon Swift Hall's centennial: 

• "If Not Here, Where?" by Carolina López-Ruiz, Professor of Ancient Mediterranean Religions and Mythologies
• "Swift Hall and the Good Life" by Raissa von Doetinchem de Rande, Assistant Professor of Religious Ethics and Islamic Studies
• "Performance is What Makes Religion Matter" by Abimbola Adelakun, Associate Professor of Global Christianity
• "The Space Always Wins" by Cynthia G. Lindner, Director of Ministry Studies and Clinical Faculty for Preaching and Pastoral Care
• “Our Better Angels”: Reflections on My Years in Swift Hall by Willemien Otten, Dorothy Grant MacLear Professor of Theology and the History of Christianity
• "The Divinity School and the Hebrew Bible: Past, Present, and Future" by Jeffrey Stackert, Caroline E. Haskell Professor of Hebrew Bible