Finding Something that Eats God

On the firing of Julie Moore from my alma mater

Taylor’s campus. Cazel91, public domain via Wikimedia Commons

In the 90s when I was an English major, Taylor University was far from perfect. Taylor is a majority white school in Upland, Indiana — a speck of a Central Indiana town with zero stop lights and one famous ice cream shop. During my time as an undergrad there were more African international students than black folks enrolled from the U.S. It was not uncommon for students of color to return to the dorm with stories of being chased by pick-ups with confederate flags at the gas station.

The next town over, Gas City, was best known on campus by the ‘City of Gas City City Hall’ sign in the front of its municipal building. The 1930 lynching in the town next to Gas City, Marion, cast a desolation on the region I could sense without knowing the depths of racism and the atrocity that happened in the town square. It would be years after graduating that I’d learn the details of two young black men dragged from the local jail, mobbed and lynched in front of thousands of men, women, and children.

On campus, we talked about the Taylor Bubble. We could walk for triple scoops, drink “Fre” the alcohol-free 90s wine by Taylor Lake, and drive to Indy to see bands on the weekend with no need to engage with the local community if we didn’t want to outside of an annual service day.

But here's one thing students had going for us that drew our gaze beyond the bubble: Taylor was led by a curious and jovial president from 1985 to 2000 named Jay Kessler. Beloved by students, Kessler would often talk about not being afraid to turn over a rock and find something that would eat God, because then we'd just worship that thing. I received an actual liberal arts education, and questioning well was a posture I learned during my time as an undergrad.

Yes, it was an eye roll/cringe-worthy moment when during Freshman orientation we were asked to look to our right or left, because we may be sitting next to our future spouse. With irony, I did meet my husband Drew at Taylor. We were some of the few folks on campus interested in counterculture, which in those days meant wearing Cure t-shirts, skateboarding to class, and attending Cornerstone music fest in the summer. We found each other and a broader community of creative folks at Taylor.

I've not stayed in close touch with the school over the years, leafing through the alumni magazine when it arrives in the mail a few times a year. I don't have an informed answer to the question: Can a student receive a nuanced, well-rounded education at Taylor in 2023? I'd bet there are many insightful professors and justice-oriented students. I spoke about my journey as a writer to a group of students who run the school’s literary magazine via Zoom a few weeks ago, and it was lovely, with attentive members of the class asking great questions about writing and publishing.

But from the time Mike Pence was invited to speak at commencement in 2019, us alum have heard whispers, and at times shouts, that the conflation of culture wars and Christian identity from Taylor’s administration is real and growing.

Prof Julie Moore told Jemar Tisby that during her time teaching composition classes at Taylor, she was intentional about bringing the views of people of color who have been and are oppressed in a way that was “gospel-centered.”

Moore was clearly a fresh and needed voice. We may not have been afraid of turning over rocks at Taylor in the 90s, but we were certainly reading majority white authors. There may have been a Maya Angelou poem sprinkled in, but let me tell you no one was talking at Taylor, or just about any Christian college, about linguistic justice or reading James Baldwin and Ta-Nehisi Coates.

Moore received positive performance reviews in the past, and her contract at Taylor had been renewed. But she was recently called into the provost's office and told that her contract was ending after the current school year. Why? Because, according to the administration, Moore’s English composition class lacked balance and did not teach writing.

Moore pressed, continuing to ask what materials in her course were problematic. The provost finally said, "Jemar Tisby is the main focus." The Color of Compromise author, who I quote in Orphaned Believers, was cited as the source of the problem. Tisby says “justice takes sides.” In the case of Moore, Taylor clearly put its flag into troubling ground.

What I experienced as intellectual honesty while enrolled at Taylor during the Kessler era held faith and understanding together. But in the case of Moore, the issue was not whether she agreed with Tisby or not, but simply the fact that Tisby was quoted in a syllabus. What kind of university doesn’t allow its students to engage with ideas that may be new or stretching?

How is that posture preparing students to be scholars and thinkers, and even more, how is it preparing them to leave the Taylor bubble and meet the challenges of the current world when they aren’t given space to address and discuss ideas?

In an ideal world there are places where students pursuing Jesus from all political parties, with all social views, would be led with moral courage towards the upside down kingdom. Sadly, no one should be surprised that a Christian university is on the defensive these days, besides trying to stay afloat in the pandemic like any school there is likely a slate of conservative trustees and funders to appease.

I never believed Taylor, or any institution, could hold that line perfectly, but I would have liked to hope when it makes a misstep it could come clean with humility. The problem here is clearly pointing to the administration.

The decision to cancel Moore’s contract has real human impact. “I’m too old to be on the job market and too young to retire,” Moore told RNS. Taylor’s admin responded to the situation with a community message about its commitment to diversity and is holding a couple of community forums for the campus to share feedback.

This issue is not going away, more news outlets are picking it up. Efforts to tamp it down to appease a certain block of donors will likely have the effect of more and more lost individual donations from alumni who stand with Moore.

To the Taylor administration, from one of many concerned alums: there are lots of folks watching what the campus does next right now. Engage a divided community by following the deep, true Christian value and discipline of repentance. And to Moore, let me add my voice to the growing chorus led by Karen Swallow Prior and Marlena Graves — we're with you and for you.

Alums and people affiliated with Taylor can sign this open letter. You can donate to Moore's GoFundMe here. 

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