God and Man at Wheaton

Wheaton College once produced some of the boldest Christian voices in America. With graduates like Billy Graham, Jim and Elisabeth Elliot, John Piper, and William Lane Craig, and with deep roots in the abolitionist movement, Wheaton earned a reputation for intellectual rigor, spiritual depth, and, above all, courageous witness for Christ. Unfortunately, that reputation is no longer deserved. Years of failed leadership have enabled leftward drift at this flagship evangelical institution, to the great sadness of many alumni who, like me, can no longer wish to see our children attend.

Wheaton’s leadership deficit was on full display this past weekend. In a social media post, Wheaton offered congratulations and prayers to one of its alumni, Russell Vought, on his Senate confirmation to lead the Office of Management and Budget, one of the most prestigious posts in Washington. Apparently, this was beyond the pale. Hostile alumni flooded the comment section, castigating Wheaton for congratulating a “fascist” and demanding that the post be taken down.

Astonishingly, Wheaton complied. The post was quickly removed and replaced with a tepid apology: “It was not our intention to embroil the College in a political discussion or dispute. . . . Wheaton College’s focus is on Christ and His kingdom.” 

From a pure public relations standpoint, this was malpractice. The message to alumni in conservative politics could not have been more alienating. It also backfired. Within hours, U.S. senators and even Elon Musk were weighing in on X, expressing dismay at the school’s moral cowardice. Indeed, Wheaton’s actions revealed a moral sickness at the heart of how it makes decisions. Faced with a mob, Wheaton showed that it will quickly bow the knee and take the path of least resistance. As Mollie Hemingway aptly put it: If Wheaton folds this easily, “you have to wonder how well they’re preparing students for a hostile world that hates the Gospel.”

This lack of convictional courage explains much of Wheaton’s drift in recent years. While it is true that many faithful professors remain on campus—some of whom I cherish to this day—Wheaton as an institution has become unmoored. Its drift is twofold: The administration allows itself to be emotionally blackmailed by activists, and it refuses to explicitly orient the college against the most toxic ideologies of our time. Several examples are worth noting.

In 2020, under pressure from certain faculty and students—and bolstered by a Title IX complaint—President Philip Ryken fired conservative chaplain Timothy Blackmon, without due process, over allegations that he had made inappropriate jokes. Blackmon disputed those allegations, and even the alleged victim denied that Blackmon did anything wrong. It didn’t matter. In 2021, again under student pressure, Ryken took down and replaced a plaque honoring Jim Elliot and his team of missionary martyrs, who died witnessing to the Waorani tribe in Ecuador. The 1950s-era plaque had used the word “savage,” prompting complaints from students who were offended. Then, in 2023, Wheaton’s trustees expunged the name of a former college president from its library who, for a time, supported a policy of segregation—though he later changed his position. 

In each of these cases, Wheaton charted its course by placating the loudest voices rather than standing on a clear conviction. But appeasement never satiates bad actors. It emboldens them. Wheaton has shown that it can be bullied into submission—and that it will even sacrifice its own to have peace at any cost.

This appeasement posture is what opened the door to a sweeping DEI regime at Wheaton, couched in the Christianese of “kingdom diversity.” Among its most bitter fruits is a segregated graduation ceremony held for students of color, in addition to an integrated ceremony. This regime was implemented by Sheila Caldwell, who has since left Wheaton and, tellingly, now serves as vice president for antiracism and DEI at a secular university.

More broadly, President Ryken’s appeasement posture has enabled leftward drift across the faculty, as I experienced firsthand and have since heard from numerous other students. Despite its claim to be an evangelical big tent, Wheaton’s theology and biblical studies faculty is squarely egalitarian and often hostile to complementarian students. One professor, George Kalantzis, touts universal salvation as a valid viewpoint while his colleague, Keith Johnson, assigns (and commends) liberation and feminist theology for reading. Nathan Cartagena, a philosophy professor, is on the record teaching and advocating for critical race theory. And Mark Yarhouse, director of the Sexual and Gender Identity Institute, advocates for the use of transgender pronouns while uncritically adopting the terminology and categories of gender ideology. Read his work, and you will find that it drowns in nuance one of the clearest moral issues of our time—the transitioning of children. 

These examples are just the tip of the iceberg. There’s much more. Yet beneath all of these trends is a sad undercurrent, described to me by one local pastor in the following way: Wheaton is not articulating the gospel. Instead, it is assuming the gospel, which always precedes losing the gospel.

When Billy Graham spoke at the dedication of Wheaton’s Billy Graham Center in 1980, he charged its leaders to maintain a zeal for the biblical gospel and a commitment to world evangelism. “If the leaders of a future generation take any other path,” he warned, “may they be, as the Apostle Paul said to the Galatians, accursed, because Ichabod [“without glory”] will be written on this place.”

Has the glory of God departed from Wheaton? Through weak and docile leadership, regrettably, it has.

Image by Sea Cow. Image altered.