This past fall Duke University gained its first mission statement. Or so one would believe after listening to some of the debate that preceded the Board of Trustee's September 1994 presentation of the three paragraph declaration. The relatively unheralded September announcement followed several months of substantially more animated discourse on the present and future of Duke, a campus-wide dialogue that generated several focal points, among them the supposed lack of a University mission statement.

Yet as any observant West Campus pedestrian knows, the University already had a mission statement. About two-thirds of the way from the chapel to the bus stop, in line with the prominent statue of James B. Duke, lies a bronze plaque. The first few words of the inscription upon it leave little doubt about its character as a mission statement: "The aims of Duke University are ..." It was most likely not these words which led some to ignore the 1924 inscription's existence, but rather those that follow: "... to assert a faith in the eternal union of knowledge and religion set forth in the teachings and character of Jesus Christ ..." This sentiment, echoed in the University motto Eruditio et Religio, was apparently problematic enough to warrant its omission in the new statement; while borrowing from the original such objectives as "to promote a sincere spirit of tolerance," the admirably secular Board of Trustees version replaces, for example, the less ecumenically-palatable tenet of "Christian love of freedom and truth" with the more agreeable "sense of the obligations and rewards of citizenship, and a commitment to learning, freedom, and truth." Less subtle is the ecclesiastical slighting evidenced by the transformation of "to render the largest permanent service to the individual, the state, the nation, and the church" into "to contribute in diverse ways to the local community, the state, the nation and the world."

The Board of Trustees cannot be blamed for their spiritually-correct reworking of the University mission statement. Sure, the plaque demands that "unto these ends shall the affairs of this University always be administered." The reality, however, is that in terms of ideological direction Duke has not been a "Christian" university for quite some time. And from a purely pragmatic standpoint, this does not appear to have been for the worse: Duke is now realizing more academic and research-related success than at any other time in its history. It is misleading and intellectually arrogant, though, to deny the University's foundational belief in the harmony between knowledge and religion. However offensive this belief or the notion of the Judeo-Christian God might be to secular sensibilities, they were central to both the founding Indenture of Duke and, for at least several decades, the University community itself. And, whether acknowledged or not, there remain today many faculty, staff, and students who continue to embrace the spiritual along with the intellectual.

In recognition of the significance of Eruditio et Religio to Duke both past and present, this issue of Vertices addresses a perennially controversial subset of that topic--science and religion. The three-feature thematic section is intended as neither exhaustive scientific analysis nor religious apologetic. It is, rather, a cross-sectional view of what science can offer religion (Physics and Theology,) of what religion can offer science (Religion and Mental Health,) and of an historically controversial object in which the normally disjoint worlds of science and religion meet (Ecce Homo?). These features are of course joined, in the Vertices tradition of stimulating scientific inquiry, by such treats as a Marshall Scholar's commentary on women in science and introductions to the young fields of random walks and genetic algorithms.

The assistance and goodwill of many have helped make this issue possible. Thanks to Dennis Meredith, Marguerite Coyle, Ken Strayhorn, Mary Nijhout, and Tom Robisheaux. Special thanks to Pauline Myers and Linda Studer-Ellis.

This issue is dedicated to the memory of Helen Borkan.

Thanks for reading.

Marc Borkan

©1995 Duke University Undergraduate Publications. Reproduction, except for personal use, is strictly prohibited without prior written consent of the author(s) or Duke Undergraduate Publications. For more info...

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