11/16/07
Editor’s note: Methodists founded Baker 150 years ago. Today the religious roots represent a crucial part of the university. However, Baker is not hinged on one ideology. This is the first installment of a three-part series that will discuss interpretations of religion and life. This one focuses on Baker’s Methodist past and its current connection with the church.
Check out all our coverage of religious life on campus.<a href="http://www.bakeru.edu/orangeline/specials/religiononcampus.html" target="_blank">Check out all our coverage of religious life on campus.</a> Check out all our coverage of religious life on campus.
In the frigid morning hours on Thursdays, Minister to the University Ira DeSpain wakes up while the sun still rests snugly, unseen. Most people are sleeping snugly too, but DeSpain is rummaging through his mind, concentrating intensely on the task before him. In his head he repeats and rearranges the words he’s about to share.
“The sermon is never really finished until I deliver it,” he said. “I edit, change words, delete stuff, add stuff.”
He eats a light breakfast: grits or oatmeal, two pieces of toast and an apple. Then he prays and paces as if he’s preparing for a marathon, a race. Though he’s been Baker’s campus minister for nearly 16 years, he gets nervous. A feeling of intensity surges through him, an energy, a flicker of excitement he channels into his sermon.
When prepped, he waits for students and faculty in front of the chapel. Smile lines trace the corners of his mouth. He grins as he firmly shakes students’ hands before they shuffle inside. Across from DeSpain stands senior Greg Rogers, who is blind. Rogers clutches his cane with one hand and places the other out for visitors to shake.
“I’m pretty much the designated door greeter,” Rogers said. “I always go to chapel.”
So do about 100 others, including students, faculty and Baldwin City residents.
“Most Thursdays it’s pretty full,” DeSpain said. “The chapel seats 100, and we have to bring in chairs.”
Chapel is a weekly ritual that takes place at 11 a.m. on Thursdays. Many students strive to never miss it. Freshman Mercedes Schlapper, a United Methodist, is one.
“It’s an important part of my life because back home we have a very active church life, and I really miss that,” she said. “I have chapel and Bible study, and that’s my school religious week.”
Most are familiar with Baker’s religious beginning.
In 1858, preachers of the Methodist Episcopal Church founded Baker, the first university in Kansas, in order to provide an education and sanctuary to everyone-even those with little money.
Susan Emel, professor of mass media and communication and United Methodist ordained minister, said she respects the reasons Baker was erected.
“What drove Methodists to start schools?” Emel asked. “They did it because the churches of the day were not going out to people who really needed education, people who really needed care, people who really needed a sense of support and family, and their way of doing that was through education. That really appeals to me.”
John Wesley, credited with founding the Methodist church, based it on four things: scripture, the tradition of the church, reasoning and experience. Several divisions and mergers characterize the church, but it’s now known as United Methodist. Its members believe religion is something that can be studied with a critical eye.
“I think that religion and spirituality can be studied academically,” DeSpain said. “I don’t think there is any reason to shy away from looking critically at Biblical material.”
With the United Methodist affiliation comes a crucial set of values.
“It brings to the educational enterprise some values that I think are very, very important,” Emel said. “First, the notion that all areas of study are valuable. Second, the search for the truth is a search for God … and a third is family: that education should take place in a supportive community, and that no one should be turned away because they can’t pay.”
Schlapper — who ultimately selected the United Methodist faith because of its belief in respecting other people’s ideology — said Baker’s link to the church is what sets it apart from other schools. The subtle differences between Baker and secular, public institutions made Schlapper’s mother more confident about her daughter’s decision to come here.
“We have prayer before the games and whatnot, so it’s a lot different from state schools in that way,” she said. “It encouraged my mother’s decision because she was really nervous about me going out-of-state or to a religious college.”
One of Baker’s ways of acknowledging its religious history is through chapel, but on-site worship is relatively new.
Tall trees with dark green leaves, their branches dangling down, guard the chapel and a black fence borders it like a moat. It is formally called the Clarice L. Osborne Memorial Chapel. It’s dedicated to the wife of Robert Osborne, the philanthropist who purchased it. Taken apart stone by stone and hauled over from England, where it stood for 132 years, the chapel was reconstructed on campus 11 years ago.
It has since served as a place of worship for students and faculty. Similar to Salat-the main Muslim prayer in which believers stop what they are doing to face Mecca and pray-institutional life at Baker is put on hold for chapel. There are no classes, department or club meetings during chapel time.
On chapel days, once inside the wooden doors, one detects the harmony of piano and guitar music mixing with the sounds of laughter and noisy conversations. Students and faculty pile into pews, sliding closely to make room.
Standing in the pulpit, DeSpain is confident, his voice strong. He speaks slowly and methodically, extracting each word from his mind with extreme care. Until the last minute, students sneak in, flip their cell phones off, slip them into their pockets and direct their attention to him.
People of all denominations are encouraged to come, but there is no requirement. Those who go do so because they want to. That is why many students are not accounted for. According to the most recent records, 98 percent of students self-report a belief in God or religion. Twenty percent identify with the United Methodist faith, but only about 10 percent attend chapel.
But DeSpain likes that it’s optional because he doesn’t want a bunch of angry people scowling at him during service.
“It’s not required, and I’m glad because when you leave here, religious activity is also optional,” DeSpain said. “When you move into a neighborhood, no one makes you be religious or get up and go to church or synagogue.”
Still, there are students who ritualistically flock to chapel.
Junior Cara Breeden meets a group of mixed denominational friends there every week.
“I go pretty much every time,” Breeden said. “I think I’ve only missed it once this year.”
Breeden learned about Baker through her church when she was a child. In junior high she visited the campus through a camp called Institute. She believes Baker’s link to the church and chapel improves the campus atmosphere.
This month, the campus ministry will be working with the United Methodist Church in a cooperative food drive. DeSpain’s goal is to fill the chapel pulpit with food for the Thanksgiving holiday. DeSpain said similar activities like Habitat for Humanity, Neighbors Helping Neighbors Day and Leaf Raking Day will take place throughout the year.
Every Thursday after the sermon, those interested descend the chapel steps and trek into the basement to have lunch.
“It’s always just a fun place to hang out and eat free food,” Schlapper said. “There’s no pretenses. You just eat and talk. We have random conversations going on, too. It’s just hanging out with a different group of people than you would normally.”
People talk about problems, hopes and joys. Laughter sprinkles conversations, and the lunch is relaxed and casual, giving DeSpain a chance to take a breath before his next sermon.
“In many ways it’s like I’m possessed,” DeSpain said. “I take it very seriously, what I do and what I say and how I say it. I feel like God leads me.”