Saturday, May 31, 2025

As Valpo Turns. . .

There was a time when all Lutheran colleges wished they were Valpo.  Begun as a Methodist school in 1859, the city raised $11,000 to bring it there. Opened in the fall of 1859 with 75 students, it was one of the first coeducational colleges in the nation.  Though money problems led to the closing of the school in 1871, it re-opened two years later as  the Northern Indiana Normal School and Business Institute.  After more money problems, the university almost sold to the Ku Klux Klan, but the deal was stopped and in July 1925, the Lutheran University Association, affiliated with the Lutheran Church–Missouri Synod, took over ownership of the school. The association wanted to create an academic institution not controlled by any church denomination even though it was strongly associated with the LCMS until the past fifty years or so. 

In 1940, O. P. Kretzmann became president of the university and remade the school into what it was.  Its glory days during his 28 years in office saw the school purchase 90 acres  near US Highway 30, build the iconic chapel which remains one of the largest in America, and increase the enrollment to more than 40,000.  Since his death, the school has slowly been moving away from the LCMS and its vaunted honor code and history of excellence.  Now, without a president, the school has fallen on hard times.  There are half the students there were and no more money.  They have sold off assets (in the midst of great controversy) in order to renovate dorms and make campus improvements.  Now the Valparaiso City Council has approved the school's issuance of up to $117 million in general obligation bonds for some campus renovations and to refinance university debt.

It would seem that nobody wants to be Valpo anymore.  Adrift from its roots and legacy under Kretzmann, the school has had trouble attracting students, keeping faculty, and sustaining its once core academic programs.  In essence, it is a school trying to figure out who they are and why anyone would pay a premium price to go there. In 2021, Valparaiso retired the "Crusaders" nickname because of the "negative connotation and violence associated with the Crusader imagery" and adopted Beacons as its new identity.  It no longer shines much light but is looking to find a little to guide it out of its myriad of problems.  There are Concordias in the LCMS larger than Valpo and on better footing.  Their last President was Roman Catholic in affliation and on one has mistaken Valpo for a Lutheran school for a very long time.  How sad.  Valparaiso University's bond rating was dropped by Moody's down two notches to a junk rating.  It was one more slap in the face of a once vaunted reputation and identity that has collapsed.  Diversity takes its toll on another educational institution.  When there is nothing left to sell and nobody left willing to lend money to them, the junk status of the school will match its bond rating.

1 comment:

John Flanagan said...

When we hear of things like the sad condition of Valparaiso University, it is one example of a predictable trend and a cycle of history repeated. As we speak, remember that in the upcoming week between 75 to 100 Christian congregations will close permanently. The reasons are not always simple. It can relate to demographic changes, population shifts, economics, and not entirely because of woke diversity, cultural rejection and unbelief. Sometimes institutions are founded and organized, serve a purpose for awhile, then fall into decline or disappear. Like the beautiful desert wild flowers I saw each year on the Arizona hillsides years ago, they soon wither and fade into the dry desert sand. You will not see the same lovely flowers again, but new ones will grow next season, as the Lord ordained, because the dying flower left a seed, and from the seed there will be new growth. My old Catholic elementary school, St Philip Neri of Northport, NY, has been closed for decades. Once a lively institution, it did serve the purpose of introducing many children to Jesus, as well as providing a solid education. Although I am no longer Catholic, the church and school of my youth was the place where the Lord was declared, and the reasons for its closure are both economic and cultural. Perhaps, as Isaiah insisted, “the grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God stands forever,” should warn us that all of our institutions may have a “use by” date, and that is why only the word of God lasts. Everything else, our bodies, our buildings, our ideas, will perish. Remember this too, if one travels to Rome, as you snap a photo of a once formidable crumbling fortress on a hill, or a broken sculpture missing an arm, a faded mural on an ancient wall, or the ruins of a rich man’s home, that there is a time and a season, as it is said in Ecclesiastes, and the Lord determines both. Soli Deo Gloria