Category: Perspective Magazine

In previous online versions of Perspective, I have written about what February’s United Methodist General Conference in St. Louis might mean for Perkins, I would like here to offer a personal reflection.

Among the experiences that have influenced my understanding of theological education are the years I spent on varied theological faculties — at Yale, Wesley, and Duke — along with teaching at Howard and at Methodist seminaries in South Korea and Russia. Even more formative in some ways was my own experience as a seminary student.

Like other of my classmates, I arrived with a strong sense of calling. I had attended innumerable Bible studies and worship services, had participated in a range of mission projects and conferences, had taught Sunday school and led a fellowship group, and had worked in a church since my freshman year in college. Nevertheless, seminary was not entirely what I expected. In particular, there was no party line when it came to a number of critical issues. Instead, I was expected to think critically, not simply to absorb the right answers. I had done this to an extent in college, of course, but the requirement was taken to a whole new level when it involved core beliefs and practices.

My first year in particular was challenging, both intellectually and spiritually. In retrospect, however, I am deeply grateful for that challenge. It started a process of reflection and growth that continues to this day. It is not that the center of my faith shifted radically. It did not. But I came to realize that I needed to think at a much deeper level, to take account of a much wider range of sources and influences. In particular, I learned that a satisfying theology requires the incorporation of all of one’s knowledge. Otherwise, one’s theology is —knowingly or unknowingly — in tension if not at war with the rest of one’s thinking. My seminary experience also taught me that it is possible to respect and appreciate others with whom I did not agree because, in time, I got to know them as people, not simply as positions.

While I greatly value those years, I will say also that they were made harder than they needed to be by what seemed a too common “us vs. them” mentality. The day I showed up on campus, I felt that I was being required — especially by other students — to decide which armed camp I would join. Perhaps it was not a fair impression, but that is how it seemed to me as a young student right out of college. I was full of questions, but I found that I could not freely ask them without risking rebuke. I came willing to be persuaded, but not wanting to be silenced.

I look back on that time with profound appreciation, not regret, and every difficult experience was counterbalanced by some other that was good. In particular, my seminary years gave me a strong sense for what theological education should be and in what spirit it ought to be conducted.

Regrettably, such a spirit was too little in evidence at General Conference. Given human nature, given the long history of conflict, given what was at stake, given the format for “conferencing,” perhaps that result was inevitable. Nevertheless, it was disappointing. I said to someone at the time, “I am glad that I am already a Christian, because there is little here that would convince me to become one.” There were exceptions, but they did tend to be exceptions.

Another disappointment, much less commented upon, was the level of discourse. I learned in seminary that a solid argument had to give fair weight to Scripture, tradition, reason and experience. (Or, one could argue, that while primary, Scripture has to be interpreted in light of tradition, reason and experience.) A great quantity of Scripture was cited, and there were many appeals to personal experience, plus a nod here or there to tradition. I do not deprecate these, but they form at best an incomplete argument. Notably absent from the debate on either side was an appeal to science, which is the most reliable (not infallible; scientists are humans, too) means by which to study nature. Any convincing argument about human sexuality has to reckon as much as reasonably possible with the full range of available knowledge on the subject. This is true regardless of one’s theological orientation, just as it would be for one’s interpretation of, say, Genesis 1-3.

Above all, I came away from St. Louis with renewed gratitude for Perkins. We are by no means perfect, but we do endeavor to be a community in which diverse opinions may be voiced and sincere questions may be addressed with grace. Moreover, we strive to teach our students to think both deeply and broadly, so that they might cultivate a theological understanding that encompasses all of reality. To do either — much less both — takes hard work and requires emotional and spiritual maturity, but anything less is both anti-intellectual and sub-Christian. It is unsurprising that we sometimes fall short of this high ideal. More remarkable are the many ways in which we already come close. I am incredibly grateful to be part of such a school.

Grace and peace,

Craig C. Hill

Dean, Perkins School of Theology
Southern Methodist University

By Dean Craig C. Hill

Following the called General Conference in St. Louis in February, those of us in the United Methodist church find ourselves in a season of deep uncertainty. The decision to adopt the Traditional Plan has enormous but as of yet unknowable implications for our future as a denomination, for our local churches and for every United Methodist institution, including, of course, its theological schools.

The question “Where do we go from here?” remains unanswered. As annual conferences meet, as churches and United Methodist organizations absorb and react to the news, and as we and other United Methodist schools of theology continue to engage in intense conversation, the answer will gradually emerge.

During this period of uncertainty, it is especially important to reiterate what we at Perkins can say with confidence. That begins with an affirmation of key and unchanging values, on a sustained commitment to Perkins’ mission of being “an academy for the whole church in the world,” and on a heightened emphasis on civil dialogue. Specifically:

AFFIRM KEY VALUES
Respect, wholeness, civility, honesty, understanding, inclusivity and love have always been, and will continue to be, the way we strive to live in community with one another at Perkins. Servant leadership — that shared desire to serve that brings students to Perkins and connects us to our alumni serving the wider community — remains a core value. Servant leadership begins with a desire to know and understand. Its essential character is humility. It is nondefensive and other-oriented, the opposite of the egocentricity and tribalism that so dominate contemporary American culture. We will continue to honor “the other” and to learn from those with whom we may at times disagree. We cannot serve those whom we do not know nor care to understand.

STRIVE TO BE AN ACADEMY FOR THE WHOLE CHURCH IN THE WHOLE WORLD
That means that we aim to prepare Christian leaders not just for the United Methodist church but the “Big C” universal, global Church and the “little c” local congregation. Of course, we prepare leaders not just to serve in the traditional ministry but also in the wider world and in ways that go beyond the walls of our churches. Along these lines, I’m excited about the work of faculty member Robert Hunt with the Global Theological Education (GTE) e-Academy. In its initial phase, the project is capturing some of the leading theological voices in Southeast Asia, Latin America, the Caribbean and Africa in short video segments and making them available to students globally — including, of course, here at Perkins. It is more critical than ever that genuine dialogue occurs across the church. Similarly, the launch of the Baptist House of Studies, led by faculty member Jaime Clark-Soles, is offering a nexus of support for our Baptist students that will connect them to resources in the Baptist world. In short, we are reaching out, not pulling back.

RENEW OUR COMMITMENT TO CIVIL DISAGREEMENT AND DIALOGUE
Ideally, a theological school is one of the increasingly rare places in which people of varied background and opinion can respectfully disagree, debate without personal rancor and then share lunch and worship together. On our best days, we are generous in trying to understand others. We never assume that, because someone’s beliefs differ widely, that person can simply be written off, much less demonized. You’ll see that in this issue. Read the Student Roundtable to learn how the embrace of our caring community has been transformative for students. The lively and fierce yet affectionate debate between progressive faculty member Susanne Scholz and conservative faculty member Billy Abraham will make you think and even make you laugh.

Dialogue such as this — across differences and yet truthful and respectful — enriches and enlivens our community. Those are the kinds of conversations we want to encourage at Perkins. Conversations between people who disagree can teach us as much about ourselves as they do about others. “Echo chambers” are more comfortable, but they merely confirm what we already think we know. Challenging conversations across the church aisle stretch us and teach us, and they give us the chance to stretch and teach others. I have been gratified on several occasions to hear former students say that Perkins did not so much teach them what to think as how to think for themselves. That, plus the ability to understand others with differing viewpoints, are critical skills for future leaders.

In this time of uncertainty and transition, we can expect turmoil and even some anxiety and apprehension. The question becomes: What can we at Perkins do to continue to bring hope to the world? In part, we can affirm our basic values, strive to serve as an academy for the whole church in the whole world and recommit to civil dialogue.

Finally, Perkins is, and will continue to be, a place of caring. We do not always live up to our ideals, but we do genuinely care for one another at Perkins. After all, the standard Jesus left us with was not mere tolerance, but love. Or, as Paul put it, “If I…understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing” (1 Cor. 13:2). Important as it is, knowledge will never be a substitute for character.

People come to Perkins School of Theology to learn, to grow, to become part of this community and to pursue excellence in scholarship. That has not changed and will not change.

By John A. Martin, Director of Development

Rarely a week goes by without news of some seminary or school of theology in financial trouble. Sometimes, those difficulties are self-inflicted, such as by getting deeply in debt, and other times, complications come because of external influences over which the school has very little control.

Perkins is fortunate to be part of SMU, a financially stable university. One of the seven schools that compose the University, Perkins is proudly held up by the president and provost as a model of theological teaching and scholarship. Bridwell Library, one of the finest theological libraries in the United States, continues to attract scholars and researchers from around the world. It also serves the Perkins student body and faculty extremely well.

However, Perkins, like all schools of theology, has financial needs. Currently, we are completing the second year of a three-year, current-use giving initiative called Pony Power. The University is raising an average of $50 million per year over three years in money that can be expended for current initiatives. Fifty million dollars in current-use giving is the equivalent of having a disbursement from an additional $1 billion endowment! Funds of that amount allow the University to reach even greater opportunities than we have up to this point.

Perkins’ part in this is $2.5 million, which includes a goal of $315,000 for the SMU Fund for Perkins, a fund which Dean Hill can use at his discretion to move Perkins forward in a variety of ways.

In the current Pony Power initiative, we are asking all Perkins donors to consider making a gift or pledge to a current-use project at Perkins. While we value endowment, capital and planned gifts, and will continue to seek them, we are emphasizing current-use gifts at this time.

Dean Craig Hill has remarked on a number of occasions that our greatest needs are:

• Student financial aid; and
• The SMU Fund for Perkins, which can be used by the dean where needed most.

Both of those priorities impact the number and quality of students attending Perkins. We want to help our students not be burdened by great personal debt, as they follow God’s call to study at Perkins. Our tagline is “Called to serve, empowered to lead,” but it is difficult to lead if encumbered by a large debt load. The cost of seminary education discourages many outstanding candidates from applying. In spite of that, increasing numbers of students are applying to Perkins. God is still calling people to minister to a needy world.

Margot Perez-Greene, associate dean for Enrollment Management, notes, “It is imperative that we make scholarship funds available to our incoming students. They are stretched to the maximum between study, ministry, work and family. We want to help these leaders get well trained and out into ministry settings.”

The Perkins Executive Board has raised $567,000 over the last 24 months for special scholarships benefiting outstanding Master of Divinity students. Every Executive Board member has committed to giving so that Perkins can attract and retain outstanding students.

But we need the help of each graduate and friend of Perkins! I am asking you to join the Executive Board in giving a special gift so the dean’s priorities can be realized.

To join the effort, please visit giving.smu.edu/perkins or contact me at:
John A. Martin, Perkins Development, PO Box 750133, Dallas, TX 75275-0133; 214-768-2026 (direct line); or email me at johnma@smu.edu.

A seminary is more than a place for intellectual pursuits; it’s also a community and a laboratory for personal growth. In divisive times such as these, the ability to form relationships across barriers and differences becomes even more important to the church and to the world. With that in mind, Perspective invited seven current Perkins students for a roundtable conversation with Dean Craig Hill and facilitator Mary Jacobs, and asked about their experiences as members of the Perkins community.

How have you changed or grown after joining the Perkins Community?

Zack Hughes (M.Div. ’20): Perkins has changed my life. I came into Perkins as an agnostic. I wasn’t really sure where I was going in terms of vocation. Now, I’m in a confirmation class at an Episcopal church near my home. Basically, Perkins has given me a completely new perspective on my spiritual and religious journey. I’ve learned that my conception of Christianity — the conception that I had rejected in favor of atheism — was basically a straw man version of Christianity. Perkins has opened my eyes to the rich history of Christianity, the complexities, the nuances. The people of the community — the professors, the staff and the students — have given me some incredible examples of the Christian life that I can aspire to.

Kathy Hines (M.Div. ’20): You know, Zack, I had no idea about your background, and I didn’t even care. You are the kind of person who’s open and caring. That’s all I knew. It’s just honest community here.

Zack Hughes: I never felt like I wasn’t accepted, even though I was a Unitarian Universalist who didn’t profess Christ. If anything, people just found me a curiosity. They approached me with love and care.

Sandy Heard (M. Div. ’19): I was a little naïve when I arrived at Perkins. I thought I would learn all the answers here. At one of my first classes, I started arguing with the professor. I said, “You just presented three different perspectives. What’s the right way?” He said, “They’re all the right way.” I thought, “That can’t be!”

Instead of learning “the answers” at Perkins, it’s more about fostering that creativity and imagination already within you — the knowledge you already have, the revelation you already have about God and truth. I was able to grow in my ability to articulate my thoughts of God, of Christ, of the Holy Spirit working in the church and in our lives.

Kathy Hines: I have never felt so much a part of something as I do here at Perkins. I’m excited about the people who are open to receive me and want to get to know who I am. My experience at Perkins is something that I will cherish for the rest of my life. I’ve been exposed to people from all over the world. From all facets of technology, science, education, religion. You name it, I’ve met them. I’ve talked to them and become life-long friends with them. There’s something about the campus that brings people together. It’s real community in every sense of the word.

Dean Craig Hill: Your experiences show me that Perkins is doing what it should be doing: equipping the whole person. There’s a fallacy that can easily arise in theological education — that the only important thing is to learn to think the right things about Jesus. But the most important thing, as Paul tells us in Philippians, is to have the mind of Christ. It’s not enough to think the right things. None of us is going to think all the right things. We’re all going to be wrong about something. We need each other. A Christian learning community that doesn’t embody that has failed significantly. But if this is a place where you’re loved, where you’re embraced, where people see you first as a child of God — that creates the opportunity for transformative conversation.

Flor Granillo (M. Div. ’19): Perkins has been healing for me. When I entered this community, I came in pieces. Broken in pieces. Three months before the first day of classes, I lost my child in an accident. At Perkins, the doors were open and I was embraced. That healing process has brought me back to life. I feel empowered, I feel ready, really ready, to serve and go out and do anything. Nothing stops me, nothing. I can speak to anyone. I can go and sit with anyone and I can speak about what God has done for me. That came from Perkins mostly, because I’ve been here for three years … those three years have been just transformative.

Wallace Wyatt, III (M.Div. ’21): At Perkins, I’ve grown to embrace diversity. As an undergraduate, I went to a very small HBCU in Daytona Beach, Florida, where African-Americans made up over 98% of the student population. We were very, very competitive — I call it a “crabs-in-the-bucket” mentality. Everyone was trying to get to the top, but not realizing you were pulling someone else down on the way. Perkins is different — more like a salad bowl. Everyone represents something different within the salad. We all work together, understanding we are still uniquely different. That’s my biggest takeaway.

That’s a great metaphor! Is there something about Perkins that discourages that “crabs-in-a-bucket” mentality?

Wallace Wyatt: It’s like everyone here is on a race to get to know the next person. If I’m in the refectory and there’s a student I’ve never met before, I never get the sense that person is looking at me and wondering, “Why is he here?” Instead, they’re looking at me saying, “Hey, I wonder who he is. Let me go and get to know him.”
Sandy Heard: I think people come here seeking the best out of others and expecting them to come with love. In any discussion, we’re not against each other. The assumption is that we are all for seeking truth. This is an environment where that’s encouraged.

Ashley Smith (M. Div. ’21): I have an expression: I came to Perkins with this box that I put God in.

I came from a Bible-based church that was very literal and very evangelical. Perkins really opened my eyes as to other ways to interpret things and other people and other walks of life. It really affected me in the beginning, because it was just very shocking. I felt confused. Nothing was lining up with what I’d been taught before. I wondered: “Am I in the right place? Is this for me?” I was really struggling. Especially in my Old Testament class, because it was just being interpreted in so many different ways than I was used to.

Perkins opened my eyes to realize that we can’t contain God. The experience definitely just made me love more, accept more, be so much more open than I was before and not feel afraid to ask questions, because I’m not going to be judged. People here were really welcoming, and they were just so gracious about my struggle and didn’t take offense to anything I asked. They knew my heart and they knew where I was coming from, so just being able to speak freely was amazing, because how are you going to learn if you don’t ask the hard questions?

Sketer Riungu (M.T.S. ’19): I’ve changed a lot in terms of my thinking. In Kenya, I am an ordained minister and was serving in a church, which was a very difficult church. Also, I’m a mother. I had to leave my three children back home with my husband, who was just starting a business.

I worried, with my accent, how was I going to manage? But people don’t care the way you talk, they are ready to listen. At Perkins, I was introduced to pastoral care. These classes have transformed my life. Before, I didn’t know anything about self-care. All the time I was working, working, working, because it was all about my weakness. I had to please every member in the church, and most of the time I forgot about myself, so I can say that my ministry and my life have been transformed.

I’ve also grown in terms of learning how to accommodate other people who have very different beliefs — just sitting down and listening to them and loving them. It has been an amazing experience.

How do you accommodate without compromising your own beliefs?

Sketer Riungu: I can allow people to give their views. That does not need to change me. Yes, I will listen to you, I will love you, but deep inside me I know who I am and what I believe.

Sandy Heard: I came a little fearful of my age. I’m 41 – and I’m coming into a seminary with a bunch of people right out of undergraduate college. The first semester was hard. At the end of the very first day of Systematic Theology, I broke down in tears and said, “I’m in the wrong place. I can’t do this.” I didn’t know half of the words that were being said that first day. I panicked.

I was sitting next to someone who is 18 years younger than me. He turned to me and said, “You got this, girl.” He wrote down his name and phone number on my syllabus and told me, “We’re going to do this together.” I didn’t expect to have such a strong bond with people who are part of a totally different generation than me. I’ve really connected with this other generation, and I’ve learned so much from them.

Many of your observations relate to finding a sense of belonging at Perkins. That is so important to us as humans but can also lead to tribalism — an “us-versus-them” mentality. Is there something about Perkins that avoids that?

Kathy Hines: SMU has an uplifting statement, “World Changers Shaped Here.” I accept the quest personally, because if I dare to be here and stay here, I’m not going to just keep it for myself. I dare to go out and change the world and be a part of that mission to change the world, making a difference.

So there’s connection, but it’s not an insular kind of connection. It’s outward-looking.

Dean Hill: Right. When the culture of an institution promotes an “us-versus-them” mentality, that is exactly not the kind of place that will form people who have the mind of Christ, who can demonstrate and live out the life of Christ in the world.

Charles Wesley had a wonderful way of putting it: “Unite the pair so long disjoined, knowledge and vital piety.” Neither is enough by itself. If we don’t live out what we’re teaching, we’re failing. Yes, we can and must always strive to do better, but it’s wonderful to hear that that’s happening here at Perkins.

By Sam Hodges

When the 1969 entering class of Perkins gathered for a group photo, the men wore coats and ties. Most of the women did, too. Still a small minority, they had been left out of the administration’s one-page mimeographed instructions for how to dress for the photo. So, to get a laugh and make a point, they wore coats and ties over their skirts. Some added contrast by carrying handbags.

Copies of the photo still get circulated, and there’s one in the Bridwell Library archives.

“That picture is about visibility,” said retired United Methodist Bishop Janice Riggle Huie, who helped organize the coat-and-tie rebellion. “We wanted the administration to know we were there. We wanted to be seen and heard, and not be invisible.”

She added: “The dean was not happy.”

There’s a hippy-tinged witticism that goes: If you remember the 1960s, you weren’t there. But Perkins students of 1968 and 1969 vividly recall how the school changed them, and how they, influenced by a supercharged atmosphere of current events and social movements, pressed the school to change. Personal growth and pushing the envelope — actions that characterized the era.

“It was a time of ferment, and it was a time of learning,” Huie said. “It was an exciting time in many ways.”

Fifty years ago, the U.S. still reeled from the assassinations of Martin Luther King, Jr., and Robert F. Kennedy. The country had seen urban riots and the counterculture extravaganza of Woodstock. The Vietnam War had altered presidential politics and prompted campus demonstrations nationwide.

Perkins was no Berkeley, and the faculty was still all male, and all white. But the Baby Boomers who had come to the seminary were restive about the war, civil rights, women’s rights and more.

The Rev. Lovett Weems, who would go on to a long, distinguished career in seminary education, helped lead a 16-mile march against a proposed anti-ballistic missile system while still a student at Perkins. The Dallas Morning News covered the April 27, 1969, protest.

Weems said Vietnam loomed as a matter of discussion and deep concern for him and many other Perkins students. (The school would, as part of a nationwide event, postpone classes on Oct. 15, 1969, in favor of “consideration and evaluation” of the Vietnam War.)

But in talking about his Perkins days, Weems also underscores how much certain courses and encounters with professors meant to him. He still recalls the prayer Professor John Deschner offered in class after the death of theologian Karl Barth, Deschner’s mentor.

Weems said faculty would invite students to their homes, and he remained in touch with some professors after finishing at Perkins. One was Albert Outler.

“Outler read just about everything I wrote on Wesley,” Weems said. “My philosophy, when he’d objected to something I’d written, was to edit by deletion.”

The Rev. John Holbert came to Perkins from Grinnell College, where activism against the Vietnam War was intense. He spent some of his early time at the seminary registering Hispanic voters in west Dallas, hoping for election results that would help end the war.

His interest in politics didn’t flag, but Holbert fell in love with Hebrew and the Old Testament at Perkins, finding a mentor in Professor Bill Power.

“I took Hebrew because it looked funny,” said Holbert, who would earn a Ph.D. at SMU and teach for 33 years at Perkins. “My whole life changed. Suddenly, I became very interested in biblical things, and I took every bit of Hebrew I could.”

Retired United Methodist Bishop Robert Hayes, Jr., and the Rev. J.D. Phillips were among a small group of African-American students at Perkins in the late 1960s.

“I bought an Army jacket and grew an Afro. I was all about the (civil rights) movement,” Hayes said.

Hayes and Phillips had come to Perkins from small, predominantly African-American Huston-Tillotson College in Austin. Suddenly they found themselves on the SMU campus with thousands of students, the overwhelming majority of them white.

“It was really leaving one culture and going to another,” Phillips said. “There were a lot of adjustments that I don’t think a person could understand — except someone like me, who was going through it.”

Phillips and Hayes found Perkins to be a welcoming enclave at SMU. But not always.

“I remember one class where the professor said something we thought was derogatory,” Hayes said. “The next time we met, we sort of commandeered the class to have a rebuttal. Everything was supercharged at that time.”

Hayes and Phillips remember joining other black students in pushing Perkins to hire a black professor. Meanwhile, Phillips began to read James Cone’s black liberation theology, and Hayes became comprehensively more serious about his studies in his second or “middler” year, challenged by the strong faculty Perkins had.

“You had all these names who are legendary in Methodist theological education,” Hayes said. “They sent us out into the world to do ministry.”

Concern for civil rights was hardly limited to African-American students. The Rev. Robert Huie, Janice Huie’s husband, was on the Student Social Action Committee at Perkins, which raised legal defense funds for two Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC) workers facing prosecution in Dallas.

Bob Huie remembers his activism, but also his exposure to Barth – particularly Against the Stream, a collection of the theologian’s post-World War II writings.

“That fit right into the way we saw theology’s role in the late ’60s,” he said.

Janice Huie discovered female theologians while at Perkins and read and discussed their books with other female students. Those students made their own push, this time for Perkins to hire a female faculty member.

But Huie gratefully describes support she got from the men, including Ron Sleeth, professor of her homiletics course.

“He taught me not to copy men, but to find my own voice,” she said of studying preaching with Sleeth.

“His permission-giving was hugely helpful.”

The Rev. Donna Lindberg worked her way through Perkins in that period, at one point taking an overnight shift as a telephone switchboard operator at Baylor Medical Center. Lindberg, too, experienced the visibility struggle. She heard professors say, “Gentlemen, take your seats,” at the beginning of class, with no acknowledgement she was there.

But for Lindberg, who went on to be a United Methodist district superintendent, the quality of instruction was beyond dispute. She recalled a theology course taught by Deschner and Schubert Ogden.

“A marvelous team,” Lindberg said. “They really gave us a broad perspective, from two polar opposite perspectives, in teaching systematics.”

Bridwell Library contains student publications of the era, and they are something of a time capsule. They reflect all the social concerns, but also students’ efforts at poetry (one anonymously submitted an obscene poem and caused a campus flap), short stories and their reviews of books by Sartre, Bellow and edgy movies such as “Midnight Cowboy.” Student Caroline Brewer contributed a powerful essay, “Cool Reflections on a Hot Summer,” about her experience doing interracial ministry in the Mississippi Delta.

Perkins had been changing all along, but the students of ’68-’69 had an accelerating effect, said the Rev. Joseph L. Allen, a retired faculty member and author of a history of the seminary. Students served on committees for a major self-study that led to curriculum and governance innovations.

In 1970, Perkins hired its first African-American faculty member, Nathaniel Lacy, and that same year broke ground by hiring Alfredo Nañez, an early Hispanic alumnus, as professor of practical theology and Mexican American studies. Two years later, Phyllis Bird became the school’s first female faculty member.

For the Rev. Charles Millikan, vice president of spiritual care and values integration at Houston Methodist Hospital, attending Perkins in the late 1960s was a “tremendous” experience. He felt himself stretched by the faculty and by fellow students.

“As much as we talk about world changers at SMU, they were world changers in their day,” he said.

And, as the need arose, the female students wore coats and ties.