The long struggle to balance faith and freedom at Baylor

Baptist News Global | Curtis Freeman | August 4, 2025

The latest controversy between Baylor University and the Baptists — rejecting grant funding to study LGBTQ exclusion in the church — has roots that stretch back more than 100 years, far preceding late 20th-century and early 21st-century struggles for control of the Baptist school.

Perhaps no incident contributed more to the framing of issues of faith and freedom at Baylor than the evolution controversy of the 1920s and the leadership of President Samuel Palmer Brooks.

The fall semester of 1920 began well for Professor G.S. Dow, with his Introduction to the Principles of Sociology freshly published by the university’s own press. Dow and his sociology course were popular among students, and the book was a promising sign of the school’s growing academic respectability as it celebrated its 75th anniversary.

The subject of the text, Dow explained, was “the science which deals with human association, its origin, development, forms and functions.” But his treatment of religion soon drew the attention of Baptists.

In particular, Dow expressed uncertainty about the process of human origins, suggesting, “As to how man originated, we are even more uncertain than we are in regard to when or where; whether we have all descended from a single pair, from many pairs, or from some group larger than a pair we do not know; the Bible itself is not clear in regard to this — at least our interpretation of the Bible does not clear up the matter.”

Even science, Dow argued, cannot construct a clear and certain picture of our human ancestors on the basis of fragmentary skeletal remains. Such an account requires imagination. “Primitive man,” Dow conjectured, “was a squat, ugly, somewhat stooped, powerful being, half human and half animal, who sought refuge from the wild beasts first in the trees and later in caves, and … was about halfway between the anthropoid ape and modern man.”

The recently elected president of the World’s Christian Fundamentals Association, J.C. Massee, already had sounded the alarm against the encroachments of evolution, rationalistic doctrine “and other infidelic nonsense” being taught in Northern Baptist colleges and seminaries. But until now, such troubles seemed far removed from Baptists in the South. Yet as the prophet Amos warned, “Woe to them that are at ease in Zion” (Amos 6:1).

Rumors quickly spread about the “heresy” at “Jerusalem on the Brazos,” as William Cowper Brann, the iconoclastic journalist of an earlier generation, sardonically dubbed Baylor. Articles critical of Dow and Baylor soon appeared in Baptist papers.

Baylor’s harshest and most outspoken opponent was the fundamentalist firebrand J. Frank Norris. The Baylor alumnus and pastor of the First Baptist Church of Fort Worth waged a relentless attack against Dow and Baylor. In October 1921, Norris published excerpts of Dow’s book in his widely circulated newspaper, The Searchlight, dismissing it as “rank Darwinism” and “evolutionary rot.”

Norris wrote a personal letter to Dow, barraging him with questions: “Do you believe that the first man, Adam, was perfect, and the highest type of humanity? Do you believe that a literal fish swallowed a literal prophet by the name of Jonah? Do you believe in the real, literal hell?”

With pressure mounting, Dow desperately needed to address his critics.

On Nov. 3, 1921, the Baptist Standard, which had been critical of Dow and Baylor, published an open letter from Dow in which he sought to make amends with Texas Baptists. He contended his views had been “unfairly treated” by his critics. Nevertheless, he expressed regret over “some blunders in expression” and language that “might be misunderstood and was capable of constructions entirely foreign to (his) intentions.”

He explained he was working on a revision of the text “in an earnest effort to eliminate any passages against which any construction can be made by any just critic remotely reflecting on the truth of the Bible or the religion which is dear to you and to me.”

Dow offered an impassioned confession of faith: “I am not now, nor have I ever been, an infidel. I do not believe, nor have I ever believed, that man came from another species; neither do I teach, nor ever have taught, such. I do believe, as I have from my youth up, that God created man as is related in the Bible.”

The confession continued with affirmations of the inspiration and authority of Scripture, Jesus Christ as the Son of God and Savior of the world, and the providential leadership of the Holy Spirit. Dow’s letter concluded, “I am a fallible man, a sinner saved by grace. As such, I have thrown my life into the field of human service, and in this field, I crave the fellowship of my brethren.”

It was too little and too late for his critics. The Baptist General Convention of Texas began its annual meeting in Dallas Dec. 1. Messengers heard a report on denominational life from the “Committee of Fifteen” that included Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary President L.R. Scarborough, Baylor University Bible Department Chair J.B. Tidwell and First Baptist Church of Dallas Pastor George W. Truett — three of the most influential Baptist leaders in the state.

The committee went on record as “unalterably opposing the teachings of Darwinian evolution or any other theory that discredits the Genesis account of creation.” They further stated they “unalterably oppose Rationalism, Destructive Criticism, and the substitution of social service and culture in the place of regeneration and personal evangelism.”

The report continued, “We unqualifiedly accept the Genesis account as the true and inspired account of God’s creative hand in the world’s making. We believe no teacher should be allowed to hold a position in any of our Baptist schools who teaches in any form any of the above-named heresies.”

It concluded with a resolution, “We hereby call on all our school presidents and boards of trustees to see to it that none of these false teachings be allowed in our schools, and to this end that the most vigilant, painstaking, and continual care be exercised in the selection of both teachers and textbooks.”

The report and resolution were adopted unanimously.

Students supported Dow with a petition and a statement. Colleagues and friends stood by him. And despite enormous influence on Brooks to rid Baylor of that “infidel” professor, he refused to make Dow a scapegoat. But ultimately, the pressure proved too much.

On Dec. 7, Dow offered his letter of resignation to President Brooks, who accepted it on the condition that he complete the school year. Both letters were published in the Dec. 10, 1921, edition of The Lariat, the school newspaper.

Dow summed up the matter succinctly: “The South does not yet understand the term ‘evolution’: when you say evolution, people immediately think of monkey.”

George Tyson, editor of The Lariat, penned a powerful editorial, expressing the “shock and disappointment” shared by “all Baylor-dom.” He praised Dow, calling him “our good friend and professor.” The editorial pointed a finger at Southern Baptists, who had not yet “reached that stage in their development where they would not allow themselves to be overpowered by the selfish machinations of one or two men.”

But the editor saved his most withering critique for the many thousands of Texas Baptists under the spell of Norris, who believed the “vile propaganda spread over the state by what appears to be a selfishly managed, muck-rake, crusading sheet, and as the people had nothing else to believe, they drank this down as truth.”

The editorial concluded, “If the Southern Baptists allow this thing to go over, allow a man to be put out on falsehoods, allow these unjust charges to be made against their schools without denying and proving that such charges are untrue, they will perhaps bring scorn and severe criticisms down upon them from other parts of the country, and it is they who deserve the sympathy.”

The American Journal of Sociology, the foremost journal in the field, published a tribute to Dow that echoed The Lariat editorial. It accused Norris of misquoting Dow’s book and misrepresenting the work of sociologists. It praised Dow and shared the “deepest regret” of the “faculty, president, trustees, and students” of Baylor University, adding, “all of whom appear to hold their fellow-worker in high esteem.”

After leaving Baylor, Dow continued his academic career. He taught sociology, first at the University of Denver, then at West Virginia University. He also found a new publisher for his textbook, which went through four editions and continued to be widely used in college classes. 

The departure of Dow, however, did not end the controversy at Baylor. 

President Brooks continued to be pressed on multiple fronts. Fundamentalist critics, recognizing the fat was in the fire, clamored for more faculty resignations. The BGCT took steps for greater oversight of schools.

The newly established investigative committee issued its report to the 1922 Baptist General Convention of Texas meeting in Waco, concluding: “In no single instance have we found a teacher who accepted as a fact the Darwinian theory, nor in any way taught it as such.”

With particular reference to the “doctrinal soundness” of other faculty at Baylor, the report stated, “evolution in general is held or taught only as a working hypothesis in the field of science.” And as regards to the historicity of the first three chapters of Genesis, the report stated the Baylor professors in question understood that “these facts are stated in allegorical or figurative language,” which allowed for a more comfortable relationship between science and scripture.

Brooks took the report as vindication. Yet the controversy continued to simmer. Nevertheless, he refused to buckle under demands that would compromise the integrity of the academic program or the core convictions of Christian faith.

The next year, the BGCT formed a textbook commission to hold schools accountable. The wise leadership of Brooks resulted in leaving the choice of textbooks to the faculty rather than charging a committee with regulating approved texts for use in classes.

Over the next several years, Brooks continued to build trust with faculty, students, alumni and churches, assuring that faculty would have freedom to teach subjects in their field and students would receive an academically rigorous education in a Christian environment.

The evolution controversy at Baylor was a prequel to events that soon unfolded on a national scale in Dayton, Tenn. Baylor and Baptists ever since have struggled to get over fundamentalism.

Baylor has chosen to navigate the turbulent water of higher education as a Research 1 university and a Christian institution. It is a perilous journey, and there are no maps or charts to follow. There will be times when the core mission is in tension with research agendas. That is the nature of R1 institutional life.

By rescinding the grant from the John and Eula Mae Baugh Foundation, the current president has capitulated to evangelical conservative voices among Texas Baptists who seek control of the university and has alienated an old and faithful friend without which Baylor as it now stands would not exist.

Samuel Palmer Brooks was a president who charted a very different course. He never yielded control to outside forces nor abandoned fellow voyagers in the academic journey.

If Baylor expects to sail past these Siren songs, the current captain, like Odysseus of old, will need to plug the crew’s ears and fix her hands firmly to the helm, ensuring that the ship and its R1 cargo will safely reach its destination. Otherwise, disaster awaits.

 Curtis W. Freeman is a double Baylor alumnus (B.A. 1977 and Ph.D. 1990). He is research professor of theology and Baptist studies and the Ruth D. Duncan Director of the Baptist House of Studies at Duke University Divinity School. Among his publications is Undomesticated Dissent: Democracy and the Public Virtue of Religious Nonconformity, Pilgrim Letters: Instruction in the Basic Teaching of Christ, and Pilgrim Journey: Instruction in the Mystery of the Gospel.