Posts Tagged ‘reformed theology’

Charlotte Mason: the Intersection of Her Theology and Her Philosophy of Education

Dear Reader,

Note: I am developing something of a series on Charlotte Mason’s theology. You might also want to check out:

Charlotte Mason, Anglicanism, and You

Was Charlotte Mason Reformed?

Was Charlotte Mason Arminian?

Charlotte Mason’s Theology: The Scale How Meditations

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I recently wrote on Charlotte Mason’s theology, and particularly her soteriology (i.e. theology of salvation) as delineated in her Scale How Meditations (edited by Benjamin Bernier, Lulu.com, 2011; see link above for that post). These meditations, which are on the first part of the Gospel of John, also highlight some interesting connections between Mason’s theology and her philosophy of education. Having read them, I have a new appreciation for how the one led to the other. Art Middlekauff at Charlotte Mason Poetry has also written recently on The Scale How Meditations [1]. He observes that “the Gospels were at the heart of her philosophy” and that “the key ideas of the Sunday meditations were none other than the key tenets of Mason’s philosophy of education.”

The question before us today is how Mason’s theology influenced her approach to education and how we, as reformed Christians who may not share her exact theology, can incorporate her educational ideas.

Mason’s Philosophy and Theology

The key theme that tuns through both Mason’s theology and her philosophy of education is that of ideas. Ideas for Mason are the stuff of education as well as  the beginning and end of faith.

If you know her educational philosophy, you will know that for Mason ideas are the food of the mind. In her motto “education is an atmosphere, a discipline, a life,” ideas are the “life” part of the equation. They are living things which are passed from mind to mind  — often through “living” books but also through art and other media as well as personal contacts. Like food, ideas must be digested. In education this is usually done through the work of narration which requires the student to interact with what he has read (or heard or seen) in a unique and personal way. Thus a relationship is built with the material (“education is the science of relations”). The end goal is for the student to have relationships with as many things as possible.

All these elements we can see in Mason’s theology as well. We can look at the “food” of faith, how we digest the things of God, and what the end goal is.

Ideas as sustenance

For Mason, God in Christ is the source of “all that nourishes men in body, soul, and spirit” (p. 170). Just as our daily bread ultimately comes from Him, so too He is the source of the nourishment of our minds. And the mind, for Mason, feeds on ideas, ideas that are communicated through books and poetry and art and music. When discussing a Charlotte Mason education, we often say that she saw no distinction between sacred and secular, and here we find the justification for that claim: all is of God because it all ultimately comes from Him.

These ideas that we consume are powerful things. It is through ideas that we are “transformed by the renewing of our minds” (p. 35; cf. Rom. 12:2).

“We know that a great idea seizes hold of a man, has power to modify the tissues of the material organ by means of which he thinks, has power to alter the whole course of his life.” (p. 95)

Mason speaks of the power of ideas to alter the life and career of the poet, painter, and philanthropist, but also of their power in our spiritual life. For Mason, it is by acceptance of an idea that we are saved:

” . . . that master thought which should have the power to subdue the hearts of all mankind — the idea of Christ lifted up upon the cross, as presented to the soul of each man with overpowering and all subduing force by the intimate Spirit of our God . . .” (p. 95) 

Thus in both our intellectual and spiritual lives, it is the ideas we take in which nourish and transform us.

Ideas must be digested

As our physical food must be digested, so ideas must be incorporated into our being. This is an active process which requires some volition on our part. In education, the work of ingesting the ideas we get from our books (and art and music) is done through the process of narration. Karen Glass explains the value of narration:

“As the mind works on the material it has read or heard, and the child tells it back, the knowledge is being digested — becoming a part of the child’s own experience and self.” [2]

In our spiritual life, it is not enough to hear a sermon or to read a passage of Scripture, again we must do some work or the ideas we encounter will simply wash over us and their power will not be realized. This process Mason calls meditation:

“Indeed, this spiritual process [meditation] is analogous to that of digestion. It is not what we read or what we hear that sustains us, but what we appropriate; what we take home to our minds and ruminate upon, — reading a passage over and over, or dwelling, again and again upon a thought, rejoicing in a ‘fresh thought of God’ as a thing to be thankful for, a quickening influence to make us alive and active when a palsy of deadness and staleness  appears to be creeping over us. We all have a spiritual life to sustain and we all need the periodic nourishment of new, or newly put, thoughts of God.” (p. 36)

In Middlekauff’s words: “Here Mason explicitly equates meditation with “mental narration,” an act that is by definition an act of solitude. I like to call it “narration of the heart.”” [3]

We may note as well that for Mason this act of incorporating ideas through narration or meditation is a thing of the mind, not the emotions:

” . . . an idea received by the mind works itself out in the life, whereas a mere wave of emotion passes without a mark.” (p. 141)

” . . .we must believe with our understanding, with our reason; the things of religion must be received by the mind before they can be felt by the heart . . . ” (p. 142)

Ideas produce abundant life

So we see that ideas, properly digested, are the sustenance of one’s mental and spiritual life. We can extend the analogy further: just as bread gives life to the body so ideas give life to the mind. Mason connects the life-giving power of ideas to the full life which Christ promises His disciples when He says: “‘I am come that they might have life and that they might have it more abundantly.'” This abundant life is one of those now-and-not-yet things; it is fulfilled both in this world and in the next.

In this world, an abundant life, for Mason, is one filled with interests and relationships:

“It is not difficult to distinguish between ‘eternal’ life and that life of the hour with which men seek to full the void when the eternal life is not theirs. Eternal life is like the life of God, because it is the life of God. It is outgoing, generous, always giving, never grasping and seeking: nature and art, literature and history, all men every where, — these are its interests; these offer the wide field for its expansion.” (pp. 134-35)

The good things we create in this world do not pass away but are as “treasures” stored up for the next:

“No heroic impulse, no inspiring thought, no conception of beauty, no act of service to each other, no single thing instinct with the life of Christ, shall be lost; but all this ‘treasure laid up in Heaven will go to the fulfilling and enriching of the broader, deeper life.'” (p. 175)

Thus the good things of this life are continued into the next. Our resurrected life will also be characterized by the same things, by productive work and a variety of interests:

“We shall all hear the voice of the Son of man, and shall come forth, ‘they that have done good unto the resurrection of life’ to the fulfillment of all aspirations, the unlimited expansion of interests, to work, perhaps, which shall be without labour, and which shall accomplish its intent, to fullness of love and of light an [sic] of joy.” (p. 137)

Analysis

Middlekauff sees The Scale How Meditations as the key to understanding Mason’s philosophy of education:

“But the links in the chain of Mason’s reasoning from the Scriptures to the volumes is not always self-evident. Why did Mason say that children are born persons? Why did she believe knowledge is so important? What makes nature study so special? We can guess at the answers when we guess at Mason’s sources. But in the Scale How Meditations, the guesswork is taken away. She reveals the core Scriptural principles from which the rest are drawn.” [4]

While we have by no means exhausted Mason’s thought in her Meditations, we have seen that ideas are a key concept which ties together her theology and her philosophy of education. There is little separation in her thought between the mind and the spirit, between the intellectual life and the religious life. The same processes are at work in both. The idea of Christ is for Mason necessary to salvation, but other ideas, while less vital,  are also spiritual in nature. They all come from God and they all nourish both mind and spirit.

There is a lot here to appeal to the reformed mind, but there are perhaps also some areas of concern. 

The role of God

One of the things that first attracted me to Mason’s philosophy was the role of God in it — we place truth before children but we have no power to make them accept it; that is His work. Mason’s 20th principles sum up her philosophy of education. The final one, one might say the culmination of them, reads as follows: 

“We allow no separation to grow up between the intellectual and ‘spiritual’ life of children, but teach them that the Divine Spirit has constant access to their spirits, and is their Continual Helper in all the interests, duties and joys of life.” [5]

Note that education here is the work of the “Divine Spirit” (i.e. the Holy Spirit) whom Mason elsewhere calls the Great Educator.

As we have seen, Mason in the Meditations ascribes power to man to will his own salvation. Yet in her educational philosophy, God is the prime Actor. I find this discrepancy a bit odd, but the important thing for our purposes is that Mason in her philosophy of education espouses a good reformed principle — that God is the Prime Mover and the source of knowledge

The role of sin

For any given subject we are trying to teach, we may expect some children to “get it” and some not to. Mason’s philosophy allows for individual variation in this acknowledging that not every child is going to take in every idea. Having said which, there are still going to be times when students just don’t seem to be learning much of anything or connecting with the material in any way. We see the same thing in our spiritual lives. Obviously not everyone accepts that one great idea, the idea of Christ, as Mason puts it.  So we may ask whose fault is it when people don’t “get it,” whether in the intellectual or the spiritual realm?

The blame for human failings can either fall on our environments, things external to our selves, or on the individual, things internal to the person. Under the category of environment, we may include other people, perhaps teachers or parents, or circumstances, a lack of access to the proper materials or to necessary information, for example. If we lay the blame on the person, we are speaking of more internal causes, things inherent to one’s nature.

Mason seems to place externally. If a child does not develop interests, it is the fault of the teacher and/or the educational program:

“When governess or nurse, aunt or uncle, even mother or father, fails to get hold of children, it is usually because he or she is a person of unsimple character.” (p. 21) [6]

The flip-side of this is to say that given the right education any child will develop in the ideal way. In the spiritual realm, we would say that if the gospel is just presented in the right way, if the person’s circumstances do not interfere, then they will come to faith which is indeed what Mason says:

“The reason why any soul of man is not subdued before the love of Christ is that the idea has never been presented at all or that the presentation has been poor and inadequate.” (p. 95)

What I don’t see in Mason, either in her theology or her philosophy, is a discussion of the effects of sin. I do not doubt that Mason believed in Original Sin — this is a point of discussion often in CM circles so I think it is worth noting — but Original Sin can mean many things in the many different Christian traditions [7]. The question before us is what goes wrong when someone doesn’t “digest” a good idea that they should have taken in. The reformed answer is that the fault lies in the individual whose nature has been corrupted by the effects of the Fall. Man no longer responds as he should to the things of God, whether those that relate directly to faith or those that are of a more peripheral nature. The cause of our failings is not external but internal. 

Here then we see a clear difference between Mason’s thought and traditional reformed theology. This lack of consideration for the effects fo the Fall is, I think, the major deficiency in Mason’s thought. [8]

Personhood

In both her theology and her philosophy of education, Mason acknowledges the capacity of even the youngest children to respond to the things of God. Her first principle reads simply: “Children are born persons.” Mason does not withhold ideas, which as we have seen are the sustenance of the mind, even from young children. So too in her theology, she says, “no thought is too deep for any human being if it is only put in the right way” (p. 112). Since ideas are of God for Mason her offering of them even to young children and her confidence that they can accept them shows that she sees them as persons, as beings able to having a relationship with their Creator [9].

Man: body & soul, heart & mind

I am intrigued by Mason’s emphasis on the mind as paramount to both faith and learning. This is in sharp contrast to most modern approaches to education which focus very much on the physical. I am convinced that this emphasis in the latter comes from an evolutionary mindset that assumes only the material world and does not take into account the spiritual. With young children in particular, modern approaches emphasize things like “sensory-motor” learning in which everything is believed to be learned through bodily sensations and experiences. Mason does not ignore the hands-on element in her approach to education, but true knowledge, for her, comes through the mind. There may be temptation here to fall too far the other way and to discount the body altogether (this is the gnostic mistake), but I do not think Mason goes that far. 

As we have seen Mason emphasizes the role of the mind in faith. To believe for her is an act of the will and faith is an intellectual acceptance of an idea (though not without practical outcomes in one’s life). I am a little torn in how to understand this idea. On the one hand, there is much that can go wrong when faith comes from a very emotional place and I agree with Mason that what comes by “waves of emotion” (p. 141) will tend to pass quickly. On the other hand, I think when we separate the heart and the mind we make a false, unbiblical distinction. I have argued that the two are really one in biblical language. Though Mason does not talk much about the role of the emotions, I think we mischaracterize her if we take this to mean that she discounts them altogether. In truth her approach to education relies greatly on feeling as both the motivation for and the end of education. It is through interest that the child is first drawn in and producing relationships, making the child care, is the aim of education. These are perhaps not transitory emotions that sweep one away, but they are feelings, and so we may say the heart is not neglected in Mason’s philosophy. 

The Interplay of the Intellectual and Spiritual

For Mason man’s intellectual and spiritual lives are closely linked. Experientially, we often find this to be true. I think many believers have had the experience that studying some aspect of God’s Creation deepens their faith. Indeed, this is the purpose of general revelation, that we may know our Creator (cf. Rom. 1:20). [10] Yet we must also use some caution here. As with so many things in the Christian life we must be careful not to overcorrect. In this area the danger is that we exalt the intellectual to such a degree that it supplants the spiritual. Intellectual knowledge can easily become the primary goal and special revelation with its message of salvation is pushed to the background. This is, for example, what we see in Transcendentalism, an exaltation of general revelation (nature) as a source of knowledge but a dismissal of special revelation and with it the need for salvation.  

Conclusions

As we look at the big ideas or trends in Mason’s thought, overall I am impressed by how much lines up with reformed theology. There are a lot of potential pitfalls here, places where one can easily slide off too far in one direction or the other, but I do not think Mason does so.  She manages to steer a middle course, acknowledging man’s physical nature and his spiritual side, balancing the emotional and the intellectual, and incorporating both intellectual and spiritual knowledge. Her emphasis on the personhood of the child I find to be quite biblical. While I am less enamored of her (Arminian) theology, in her philosophy of education, Mason acknowledges God as the Great Educator and Prime Mover. He is the source of all knowledge and it is He, not the teacher and not even the student, who acts in the process of education. The one big flaw in Mason’s ideology is in her lack of acknowledgment of man’s sinful nature and its effects on his ability to discern good and to know. This omission is a big one and I don’t think we can ignore it. It has implications for how we educate that need to be worked through. 

Nebby

[1] Middlekauff, Art. “The Story of the Scale How Meditations,Charlotte Mason Poetry (August 25, 2020).

[2] Karen Glass. Know and Tell (2018) p. 20. 

[3] Middlekauff, “The Story of . . .”

[4] Ibid.

[5] “CM’s 20 Principles,” Ambleside Online. These principles are also given at the beginning of most of the volumes of her home education series (there is some variation, especially in earlier volumes). 

[6] Being of “unsimple character” perhaps needs some explanation. Mason discusses this idea a bit. The short answer, as far as I understand it, would be that to be of simple character is to be single-minded in the good sense of having one (godly) devotion. 

[7] For some discussion of this, see this post on Original Sin. 

[8] Much debate has focused on Mason’s second principle which says that “[Children] are not born either good or bad, but with possibilities for good and for evil.” I have discussed this at length in previous posts so I will not rehash it here. See especially Was Charlotte Mason ReformedIs CM’s 2nd Principle Biblical (part 3) and Why Not Charlotte Mason. 

[9] For more on the biblical view of the child see this post

[10] That this is not the case for the non-elect is the fault of their fallen natures but does not negate the purpose of general revelation.

Charlotte Mason’s Theology: The Scale How Meditations

Dear Reader,

Note: I am developing something of a series on Charlotte Mason’s theology. You might also want to check out:

Charlotte Mason, Anglicanism, and You

Was Charlotte Mason Reformed?

Was Charlotte Mason Arminian?


After my recent post “Was Charlotte Mason Arminian?” it was suggested to me that I should read her Scale How Meditations (edited by Benjamin Bernier, Lulu.com, 2011). This book contains a series of meditations on the first chapters of the Gospel of John given by Miss Mason to her students at the House of Education.

In that earlier post I was trying to discern Mason’s theology, and particularly her soteriology (=theology of salvation), from her writings in the Home Education series. The problem of course was that she was not intending to write theology in that series. In Scale How we are dealing with biblical interpretation and Mason’s theology is made quite clear.

I am gratified to find that the things I had deduced about Mason’s theology seem to hold up. Specifically, I had argued that her theology falls into the category “Arminian” [1] in that it assumes that there is an ability man has which precedes saving grace which enables him to play some part in his own salvation. Mason identifies this ability with what she calls “the Will.”

There are a number of passages from Scale How which make it quite clear that there is an act of man which Mason calls the will which is necessary for salvation:

“Let us not suppose that God wills, chooses, that some of us should receive the power to become sons of God and others should never have this power. Is it not rather that our will must embrace the will of God, must accept the ineffable mystery, adore the grace, be so united with the will of God that no perplexity baffles our understanding, because we do not seek to understand?” (p. 48)

“The active will to believe appears to be the one condition enacted by our Lord. Men must bring the will; Christ will give the power, and by the union of the two the miracle of the new birth is accomplished.” (p. 117)

“He, Who came for the healing of the nations, makes one condition — the active will.” (p. 122)

What is this willing Mason speaks of? It is not a “vague aspiration” but a focused decision which requires some level of mental or spiritual effort:

” . . . willing fulfills itself by an effort of attention. Let us fix our thoughts upon that which we desire to know or to do, and turn away our thoughts from that which we should avoid and we have the secret to willing.” (p. 118)

“‘Heigho! I wish I were a better man’ or ‘a better woman’  — does not count. Nothing but that strenuous bending of the attention, which we have seen to be the mode in which the will acts, can fulfill the conditions.” (p. 122)

“Willing the will, like working the work, is, probably, to hold ourselves in that willing and obedient attitude of soul in which conviction is possible; to keep the single eye, to ponder upon the things of Christ . . . To this attitudeof soul comes faith — the free gift of God.” (p. 200)

Though she speaks here of a “free gift,” it is a gift which comes in response to man’s act in willing. God in Christ is to some extent helpless to save men, apart from their own act in thus willing:

“So, too, of the spiritual life, though the Bread of Life, and the Water of Life, and the light of the Life, are brought to our very doors, though He stand at the door and knock. We must eat, we must drink, we must open, that is, we must turn our thoughts steadfactly upon Him Who is our salvation, and He will meet the willing will and fill us with Himself.” (p. 122)

Christ is depicted not as One who acts definitively but as One who asks and who must convince men to believe in Him (p. 141).

There is an explicit rejection of the doctrine of election here:

“‘even so the Son also quickeneth whom He will.’ ‘Whom He will’ –no arbitrary selection is, we may believe, implied but he that will to believe is he whom the Son wills to quicken.” (pp. 129-30; cf.p. 173)

” . . . it is the divine will that all should believe; but here we see where the election comes in. It is we who choose.” (p. 176)

Note what Mason is saying here — she rejects “arbitrary selection,” i.e. unconditional election, and says rather that God chooses to save those whom He foresees will choose Him by an act of their will to believe.

If salvation is dependent upon man’s act, to will and therefore to be saved is open to all people:

” . . . the Judge who came not to condemn but to show to every man the best that is possible to him, the unsuspected good that is in him.” (p. 76)

Here we think also of Miss Mason’s infamous second principle — children “are not born either good or bad, but with possibilities for good and for evil” — which has caused some debate in educational circles. This principle is often taken as referring only to education as if it did not also apply to man’s spiritual state, but Mason here makes clear that she does apply this principle more broadly (p. 42) and that man is able, before saving grace, to do some good, even if that good is only to will.

Ultimately, through a lifetime of choices, men sort themselves into two camps:

“[Christ] comes to save the world; but even so, a natural, incidental judgment is going on. Of their own accord men judge themselves, and range themselves into the sheep and the goats.” (p. 100)

Thus in Mason’s manner of speaking God judges and condemns no one but “the sinner practically pronounces judgment on himself when he chooses darkness rather than light” (p. 107). Though Mason does hold open the possibility that there may be a second chance after death for those who have not turned to Christ in this life (p. 138).

I have used Mason’s own words as much as possible. I think it is clear from the quotes above that she rejects the doctrine of unconditional election and that she makes man’s salvation dependent upon his own act, what she calls willing. In so doing she rejects also irresistible grace and limited atonement. Though my contention is that Mason’s theology falls clearly within the Arminian camp, this is not to say that she was not a Christian. As I read her words in these meditations, I am often struck by the depth and sincerity of her faith.

The big question for us as reformed people who are nonetheless attracted to Charlotte Mason’s philosophy of education is how deeply her theology has influenced her views on education and to what extent we can trust and employ her methods knowing that her foundation, while Christian, is not identical to our own. I have tried in many ways to answer these questions as I have developed my own philosophy of education. Though this volume of meditations is not on education, there are points at which she touches on ideas which we can recognize from her philosophy of education and so I think I will also take one more post on this book to try to ferret out these ideas and to see how they are influenced by her theology.

Until then,

Nebby

[1] “Arminian” can be a loaded, and quite derogatory, term in reformed circles so I would refer you to that earlier post for a good working definition of how I am using the term.

 

Education: Creation or Fall?

Dear Reader,

This post is part of my ongoing series in search of a reformed Christian theology of education. Find all the posts here.

One of the first reformed thinkers I read on education was Cornelius Van Til. In his “Essays on Christian Education”  (Presbyterian and Reformed Publishing, 1974), Van Til argues that the purpose of education is found in Creation (pp. 79-80, 125, 167).  As he puts it, the Fall delayed the ultimate goal of Creation but did not fundamentally change it. Thus education is not merely a reversal of damage done by the Fall but it is a fulfillment of man’s creation mandate.

At the time I was intrigued by Van Til’s assertion and meant to come back to this idea. As I have developed my own philosophy of education, I have argued that for believers education is a subset of sanctification. In education we bring before students the things of God which He reveals in His general revelation. As these things are of God they are powerful in their own right. They are transformative and this transformation, specifically the remaking of our minds, is the goal of education (Romans 12:2).

Does that mean that if there had been no Fall and therefore no corruption of our nature that we would not have needed education? I am inclined to side with Van Til on this and to say that education would still have had a purpose. There was a Tree of Knowledge in the Garden of Eden which Adam and Eve had not eaten of. They were sinless and their natures were not corrupted, but they did not know everything that there is for mankind to know. Education in such a state would perhaps not have been transformative in the sense of changing but there could still have been growth. Though Adam and Eve were in a state of grace, they could still have grown up in that state. Just as the world itself needed their cultivation so their persons could have matured.

For us, living in this fallen world, the task of education is tougher. The ultimate goal is the same, to grow up to maturity in the image of Christ. But the job is harder because we do not start from a place of mere immaturity but from one of corruption. The Fall is not the reason for education but it does make education harder.  Though I have largely followed Charlotte Mason in her philosophy of education I do think this is one aspect that she does not take fully into account. Oddly enough, I have found this idea most clearly in a non-Christian writer I encountered recently, Alfred North Whitehead. The Fall, he says, makes education not as easy as it should be because we do not have the joy in knowledge that we should and we resist those who would teach us. Not to mention that our mental abilities are hampered. I can not recall entirely where I read this (though I think it may be from Frank Gaebelein) but one writer said that every math error is a result of the Fall. It is easy to see that various specific struggles — things like dyslexia and attention deficit disorder — would not exist if it were not for the Fall, but it is incredible to think that if our natures were not corrupted that we would not make even minor mistakes.

I am straying far from my original intention in this post but it does make me wonder what life will be like in the new heavens and the new earth. We know that we will still have good work to do but will we also have learning to do? Will we know everything that there is for man to know at once? I tend to think that there will still be knowledge to be gained. To gain knowledge should be a joy for us and it is hard to imagine that we will no longer have that joy.

But this is speculation. My main point today is simply this: Education has its origins in Creation. The Fall did not create the need for education but it does make it harder.

Nebby

The Prime Mover in Education

Dear Reader,

This post is part of my ongoing series in search of a reformed Christian theology of education. Find all the posts here.

When the world looks at education, it tends to talk in terms of the child versus the adult. On one end of the educational spectrum we find more traditional approaches in which the educator sets the curriculum and is the primary moving force. Classical education, in both its Christian and secular forms, fits this definition. There is believed to be a set body of knowledge that all people should know (or all people in western culture).  The curriculum is thus determined from above. The teacher plays a large role in other ways as well and is often spoken of as a mentor, one to be imitated, and the main source of knowledge.

On the other end of the spectrum we find “child-directed” or “interest-led” learning. The most extreme example of this is Unschooling which is a philosophical position which states that the child will gravitate toward what they need to know. In its most extreme forms, unschooling is a philosophy of parenting as much as of education and says that the adult should never impose his will on the child. The adult in this approach is mainly a facilitator. They help obtain resources but they do not drive either the curriculum or the learning itself. In between these two extremes there are of course many other options as well as many ways of combining their various facets.

What I would like to propose today is that viewing the spectrum in this linear way, with two poles, child-directed on one end and teacher- or curriculum-directed in the other, is too narrow. As Christians, we need to recognize that the child and the adult are not the only two parties involved in education. Charlotte Mason says as much in the last of her 20 principles [1]:

“We allow no separation to grow up between the intellectual and ‘spiritual’ life of children, but teach them that the Divine Spirit has constant access to their spirits, and is their Continual Helper in all the interests, duties and joys of life.”

Elsewhere she calls the Holy Spirit the Great Educator. Ultimately, it is God who works in the hearts and minds of children and adults to enable them to know anything. [2]

There are then three parties in education — the student, the teacher, and God. How do these three relate and what is the role of each? While I am not proposing that we do away with traditional educational structures, the teacher is most extraneous to this process. The Scriptures make clear that we are to learn from those who are farther along in their faith and that parents are to instruct children. Other people are a major channel by which God works, but we must be clear that they are a means. [3] God could also act without these intermediaries and we need to be careful not to distort the relationship.

On the other hand, the child-led end of the spectrum distorts education in another way. It makes the individual learner the arbiter of what is true and good and necessary. My contention has been that in education we place before children the things of God which He gives us in His general revelation. While it would be impossible for any of us to learn everything man has been given to know, there is a level on which the curriculum of education is set by God Himself. He is the Truth and He is the One who enables us to know.

The world speaks of education along a two-dimensional axis with only two possible actors, the student and the teacher. In doing so, they eliminate the One who is actually the Prime Mover in education, the One who gives us the curriculum and who enables learning to take place, that is God Himself. In a Christian philosophy of education [4], we should not take what the world does and tack on God and the Bible as an afterthought; we must instead begin with this truth: that God is the Prime Mover in education.

Nebby

[1] I have discussed the 20th principle previously in this post.

[2] I would add that all three persons of the Trinity, not just the Holy Spirit, are said to give knowledge (see links below).

[3] See also these earlier posts on teaching and education in the Bible:

Words for Teach in the Old Testament

Teaching in the New Testament

[4] Find my philosophy of education (a work in progress) here.

The Hurried Child: How Socialization Happens

Dear Reader,

If you are a homeschooler, you are probably sick of the “S” word  (if you are not, that word is “socialization”). Often used as a weapon by mothers-in-law and doubting friends, it is a slippery little word with so many possible meanings that it becomes hard to defend oneself against the “they won’t be socialized” accusation.

But it turns out there are actual scholarly definitions of socialization and theories about how it happens, or fails to. I recently picked up an older book, The Hurried Child by David Elkind, Ph.D (Cambridge, MA; Da Capo Press, 2007; 3rd edition). Elkind is a professor of child psychology who originally wrote this volume in the 1980s to argue that America’s children were being hurried into growing up too fast to their detriment. Even the revised revised volume I have is somewhat dated, but there is still some meat here which is worth considering.

Elkind does not start from the same place I would. There is no evidence he is a Christian; his view of human nature seems to be entirely physical, ignoring any spiritual element. He relies heavily on thinkers that I would consider suspect: Rousseau, Freud, and Piaget among them. And his idea of the child vis-a-vis the adult is not mine.

Yet a lot of the scholarship here supports and adds to some of the ideas about education which we have been discussing. A small example: I have argued, along with Charlotte Mason and others, for a broad education that does not allow the child to specialize too early. Elkind provides arguments from his clinical experience to back this up:

“Premature structuring is most often seen in children who have been trained from an early age in one or another sport or performing art. What often happens is that the child becomes so specialized so early that other parts of his personality are somewhat undeveloped.” (pp. 198-99)

Some other ideas Elkind presents with which I would agree:

  • Multi-age groupings of children are beneficial (p. 69).
  • Standardization in education is detrimental (p. 50).
  • Sex ed in the classroom does not work (p. 65).
  • Children confronted with tasks for which they are not ready blame themselves for failure and develop a “learned helplessness” (pp. 57, 131). [We also saw this idea in The Making and Unmaking of a Dullard; see this post.]

There were also a number of ideas I got from this book which I had not considered previosuly but which make a lot of sense:

  •  The motivation for learning to read is primarily social (p. 38).
  • A certain amount of repression is a good thing. Kids need to learn the rules, for instance the rule of romantic relationships, before they learn to break them. Thus movies and the like with adult themes do damage to kids. They see the breaking before they learn the rules (pp. 95f).
  • Grammar and algebra are best taught after age 11 or so. Both these subjects require is to think about thinking. Until that time kids are not ready to learn them (pp. 132f). [I need to think more about this one; I have generally resisted delineating stages in education.]

The biggest topic which made me think here is the one that seems to be uniquely Elkind’s theory. It is about how kids are socialized. He does not offer one clear definition but Elkind’s working definition of socialization seems to be that it is how children learn to live within a society (p.142).  Much to my pleasure, he places the primary locus of this teaching squarely within the family. After reviewing a few models of how socilization happens, Elkind presents his own which incorporates the others but is broader. His theory is that parents and children interact through a multi-faceted social contract. This contract has three axes which might be called the achievement-support axis, the responsibility-freedom axis, and the loyalty-commitment axis. Over time on each of these there will be change and renegotiation. Parents initially control the whole contract and set it terms but over time children are given more say in the contract (p. 147). When parents break the contract, or ar perceived to do so, children have problems. It is important to note as well that the elements of this contract are often implicit; they are not laid out or communicated verbally but are nonetheless understood on a number of levels (p. 155).

The responsibility-freedom axis is perhaps the easier to understand. The child is given more freedom over time in proportion to the responsibility he is able to take. This axis of the contract in particular prepares the child to be a responsible member of society. He learns that there is a trade-off between freedom and responsibility (p. 148).

I am a little looser on my understanding of the acheivement-support axis (pp. 149ff). Elkind argues that parents need to give their children support for their achievements (such as going to recitals and sporting events)  while also acknowledging that the child should not be made to feel that his success is for the parent’s gratification — which is all well and good. It does not seem to be as much of a trade-off, however, as the child’s achievement is not for the parent’s benefit and is certainly not something he owes the parent.

The loyalty-commitment axis is particularly interesting.  It says that parents expect a certain amount of loyalty and give their commitment (pp. 152ff). I think Christian parenting books especially are prone to identifying the responsibility-freedom axis accurately but to omitting the other axes. I haven’t thought of all the implications of this yet but I wonder if and how our strategies would change if we took this definition of social contracting between parent and child and applied it in a Christian context.

For Elkind the contract between parent and child is the primary means of socialization but it is not by itself sufficient. The parent-child relationship is a hierarchical one. The child also needs relationships with peers, those on his own level, with whom he has more equal contracts which also require much more negotiation (p. 155). And as he grows, he will also likely be the parent to a child. Elkind argues that he cannot learn the parent side of a contract directly from his parent (p. 155).

Overall I think there is a lot in this theory that fits well with Christian theology, and particularly with reformed covenant theology. Covenant theology says that God relates to us through a covenant which is essentially a contract. That we would also relate to our children in this way makes sense to me. For Elkind the parent-child contract does not actually teach the child how to be the dominant party in an unequal contract. I would argue that our contracts are actually mutli-tiered. We parents do our parenting as agents of God. We do so by divine, delegated authority. Thus even as we are authorities to our children, we are under authority to our God. Our children learn from us both how to be in authority and how to be under authority (if we are doing it well).

Elkind does not draw the lines he might between this theory of social contracts and our educational system He does at times say that requiring young children to move from daycare to school and back to daycare hurries them by forcing them to make more transitions than they are capable of but he does not go much farther than this. I would argue that every relationship is in some sense a contract. Asking young children to make too many contracts, particularly unequal ones in which they have little or no say, is dangerous ground. These kinds of contracts are in some sense in loco parentis. That is, because of the young are of the child, they mimic the parent-child contract, They can’t help but do so. Yet they offer some of the axes — responsibility-freedom and achievement-support — without offering all of them. Loyalty-commitment in particular is left out. And while I agree with Elkind that is is good and necessary for children to have peer relationships that require them to make equal contracts, I also wonder if throwing them into situations in which they are around 10 or 20 or more peers for long hours requires them to do too much negotiating. The deepest, most regular relationship, like those with siblings, are often the hardest to negotiate but can also be the most rewarding. Perhaps we were not meant to make so many “contracts” at a young age.

If you are a regular reader, you know that I am fairly pro-homeschooling. I understand, however, that this is not always a possible or even the ideal choice. I have concerns about how this social contract theory plays out when young children in particular are placed in the typical public school environment. But that does not mean that these problems cannot be overcome. If we are aware of the hazards, I think we can prepare our children for the many relationships they will have to negotiate. The main way to do this (that I can think of) is simply to be involved, to be aware of the relationships one’s child has, especially the unqueal ones which put the child in the subordinate position  and to make sure they are good relationships. And to always make the child aware that the parent is still involved and will have the commitment to them that they require.

As for that socialization argument that your mother-in-law badgers you with — Elkind’s theory provides is with some pretty good answers. If to be socialized is to learn to live in society, then the family is the first and primary society in which to learn this skill. Though it is a smaller classroom, it is an intense one and in it a parent can do more to ensure that the lessons learned are the right ones. It is a question of quality versus quantity. Better a few good relationships which involve all the axes the child needs than a large number which are yet only partial contracts.

Nebby

 

Was Charlotte Mason Arminian?

Dear Reader,

I am a Reformed Christian who has been reading and posting on issues relating to education, homeschooling, Charlotte Mason, and Reformed Theology for a number of years. Among other topics, I have written in the past on how Charlotte Mason’s thoughts line up with the Scriptures and why Charlotte Mason’s views are not reformed. Today I would like to take that last assertion a step further and argue that in addition to not being reformed, Charlotte Mason had Arminian tendencies. I am not willing to say that she was Arminian in terms of having a well worked out Arminian theology that she held to, but I do think that her underlying theology shows Arminian tendencies.

Setting the Stage

I am not an expert in Charlotte Mason, theology, or Anglicanism (my educational background is in Biblical Hebrew). I am a homeschool mom who has read and thought about these things for a number of years. I have read Charlotte Mason’s six-volume homeschool series cover to cover once through and with various other readings here and there I would guess I have read everything she has written in that series at least twice, some books or sections more than others. I have read a few other articles by Charlotte Mason when they have come up. I am just beginning to read her volume of poetry on the gospels because I feel I should in order to get a more accurate idea of her theology. My initial impression is that her poetic volumes are going to have little to contribute to our understanding of Mason’s theology. It is very hard to discern a theology from poetry with any confidence. I have heard it said that Wesley was an Arminian in his theology and a Calvinist in his hymns. Though I doubt I will find Calvinism in Mason’s gospel poetry, the point that more artistic expressions can betray a different theology that one might not adhere to if pressed is worth mentioning.

Charlotte Mason lived and worked in England in the late 1800s and early 1900s. She was a member of the Church of England. These facts about her should already orient us somewhat as we begin to examine her theology. Within the broad realm of Christendom, they narrow things down a bit and begin to give us some expectations about what she believed. The Church of England is a fairly broad umbrella, however, so they don’t narrow things down too, too much, especially on the issues we will consider today.

I would point you particularly to this earlier post I did on Miss Mason’s Anglican foundations. There I very briefly reviewed Benjamin Bernier’s “Education for the Kingdom“. Bernier shows the Anglican roots and influences of Mason’s thought which, while “Christ-centered,” embodies a kind of “mere Christianity” that is not terribly specific theologically. The same may be said of Anglicanism in general. It rests not on a rigorous confession like that of Westminster but on the non-binding standards of the Thirty-Nine Articles and various later proceedings known as the Lambeth Conferences. [1] Thus knowing Mason’s Anglicanism tells us something about her beliefs but leaves a lot still undetermined. There is a range of things she could have believed and still been a good 19th-20th century Anglican.

It is always worth remembering as well that Charlotte Mason was not writing theology (though again we will come back to her gospel-based poetry in a future post). My contention has long been that education is an inherently theological enterprise but often we have to ferret out what those theologies are. Mason is more direct than some but her goal in the Home Education series is not to give us her theology but her philosophy of education. We often have to read between the lines to try to determine what she believed. My contention on this blog has been that the underlying ideas behind any approach to education will out themselves in the end and that we should be aware of what they are, even if the authors themselves do not know or acknowledge them. So I think it is worth our while to look more closely at Mason and to ask what her ideas were so that we can adapt her approach as need be and bring it better into alignment with our own views.

This is going to be one of my longer posts because I want to take some time to establish the background. We will begin by defining Arminianism. This is very important as it is a term that is used in many different ways. We will then look at the overall theological environment in which Mason lived in England in the late 1800s and early 1900s. Beginning to narrow in, we will look at the theology of J. Paterson Smythe whose works Mason used in her schools. Finally, we will turn to Mason’s own words from her six-volume Home Education series.

What is Arminianism?

“Arminian” is a label which gets thrown a lot around in reformed circles. Anyone we disagree with might be termed Arminian. But I want to be specific today about what that term entails and what it doesn’t.

Within the spectrum of possible theologies, Arminianism is not the opposite of Reformed theology. That award goes to Pelagianism. In between fall Semi-Pelagianism and Arminianism. For our purposes today we are going to look at two related issues: the nature of man (that is, his goodness or badness) and his role in his own salvation.

Reformed theology (aka Calvinism) says that man, after the Fall, is totally depraved, which is not to say that he is as evil as he could possibly be but that every aspect of his nature is fallen and corrupted by sin. Though it is a false dichotomy to say that Reformed theology champions divine sovereignty over human free will, man, apart from saving grace, is so bound by his own sinful nature that he can’t be said to be truly free to choose good. Because man is unable to contribute to his own salvation, his election must be unconditional, not dependent on his own character or actions. His salvation is entirely a work of God. Saving grace is essential, particular (bestowed on a particular people, the elect; not general), and irresistible (man cannot turn down God’s saving grace).

Pelagianism, at the other end of the spectrum, says that “humans can freely choose to obey God’s commands rather than sinning.” [2] Adam’s sin was not passed on to his descendants as such but men sin in imitation of Adam. They are free not to sin. Grace is general in Pelagianism, and saving grace can even be said to be unnecessary.

In between these two extremes fall Semi-Pelagianism and Arminianism. There is a fine line between these two. In Semi-Pelagianism the first step is taken by man; in Arminianism it is taken by God. [3] Semi-Pelagianism says that “initial faith is a free human act, only later increased . . . by divine grace.” [4]

Arminianism does not deny the effects of the Fall on man’s nature, even perhaps admitting total depravity, but it posits a kind of intervening grace which is general and enables man to have faith. [5] This preparing grace is called prevenient grace (or sometimes preventing grace). [6] There is some variety in belief here but usually it is considered to be general, i.e. to go out to all men, and to undo the effects of the fall to the extent that man is able to make a first step toward God.  Thus man in this state does have some real ability to choose good. His election is not unconditional but is dependent upon God’s foreknowledge. God looks ahead to see which will have faith. Because of prevenient grace, man is able to believe, an act which precedes saving grace.

To sum up, there are four basic positions (with many possible convolutions thereof):

  1. Pelagianism: Man does not inherit Adam’s sinful nature. Man is free to do good and makes the first steps toward salvation. Grace is all but irrelevant.
  2. Semi-Pelagianism:  Man makes the first step toward salvation and then God’s saving grace comes in.
  3. Arminianism: Man does inherit Adam’s sin and may even be totally depraved, but by a general act of grace (called prevenient or preventing grace), he is made able to take the first step toward God. Saving grace comes after this initial step.
  4. Reformed Theology: Man is totally depraved and unable to do or choose actual good or to take a step towards God. God’s saving grace, which is only for the elect, must act first. Man is unable to resist this grace.

The argument I am making is not that Charlotte Mason falls into categories 1 or 2, but that she falls into category 3, Arminianism, in that she believed that there is a kind of grace which enables all men to be able to choose good and to make that first step towards God. I am not saying that she did not believe in original sin or even possibly total depravity (though I am skeptical that she would have used that term).

What Might Charlotte Mason Have Believed?

Before turning to Charlotte’s own words, I’d like to spend a few minutes looking at ideas that existed within her time and culture. [7] My goal here is to show what ideas were circulating in the culture. An article I have looked at previously summarizes an interview conducted in England in 1905 about the salvation of children. [8] Those interviewed for this survey were a low churchman (of the Church of England), a high churchman (ditto), two Presbyterians, a Wesleyan (Methodist), three Congregationalists, a Baptist, and a Unitarian. The first thing we can notice here is the variety of denominations represented.

The question particularly addressed is whether some children are capable of good and are, as it were, born into the Kingdom of God. The low churchman, the baptist, and one Presbyterian believed that all children must be born again.  The other Presbyterian and the three Congregationalists believed that children may be born saved. The Unitarian believed that all children are born into the Kingdom. The positions of the others are not specified in the summary article. The second point to notice, then, is the variety of beliefs represented and that within a given denomination (COE, Presbyterianism) there was not necessarily agreement.

Among those surveyed, there were four positions: 1) no children are born into the Kingdom of God (the position of the Baptist minister); 2) all children are born into the Kingdom (the Unitarian position); 3) children born to Christian parents are in the Kingdom; and 4) children born in a Christian nation are born into the Kingdom. [9] While we are not given the reasons behind these positions, I do not think it is too much of a stretch to think that some at least saw a kind of general grace at work, either inducting children into the Kingdom or preparing them for it.

The position of the Wesleyan Methodist minister is not specified but here we can make some fairly solid guesses. By my reckoning, around the year 1900 about 2.5% of the population of England would have been Methodist. [10] The theology of this English-born denomination is based in that of John and Charles Wesley (1700s) who themselves came out of the Church of England. Wesleyan theology is Arminian to its core. John Wesley “followed Arminius in holding that prevenient grace enables all humans to respond freely to the gospel. This universal work of the Spirit overcomes the dire effects of original sin.” [11] Prevenient grace is general; it is “a universal benefit of Christ’s crucifixion,” [12] general and universal in that it is applicable to all men, not just the elect.

The Church of England is, as I have said, a fairly broad umbrella. I have struggled to find a clear source to explain to me the Anglican take on prevenient grace. What I have found is this: Wesley based the Articles of Faith on which Methodism is founded upon the COE’s Thirty-Nine Articles.  In fact, he changed these articles very little. Of particular importance to us is Article X (Article VIII of the Methodist Articles of Religion) which reads:

“The condition of Man after the fall of Adam is such, that he cannot turn and prepare himself, by his own natural strength and good works, to faith; and calling upon God. Wherefore we have no power to do good works pleasant and acceptable to God, without the grace of God by Christ preventing us, that we may have a good will, and working with us, when we have that good will.” The Thirty-Nine Articles X (= Articles of Religion VIII; emphasis added)

Note the word “preventing” which is used here. Prevenient grace, you may recall, can also be called preventing grace. Wesley and the Methodists take this Article to mean that prevenient grace enables man to have a good will. Is this how the COE understood the same words? Based on my research thus far, I am not clear on that. It is certainly a possible understanding of these words, however. The Gospel Coalition, in their article on Methodism, speaks of Wesley drawing on the Arminianism “implicit in the articles as they stand.” [13]

At least one Anglican of Charlotte’s day did take the Arminian understanding. Joseph Miller says that:

“Does not Holy Scripture throughout in its commands and admonitions proceed on the supposition that it is in the power of each to choose to hear the word of God and to yield oneself to its holy guidance, or on the contrary, to turn aside and resist the impulses of grace ? At least it is apparent, that man must refrain from wilful and obstinate resistance, if divine love is to work savingly. Take conversion, for example. Whilst it may be admitted to be mainly God’s act, a fruit of regeneration, must there not be in it a certain yieiding or movement on the part of the man himself ? Otherwise how is the necessity of irresistible grace in order to salvation and eternal life to be evaded ? Are not faith and repentance necessary conditions of regeneration in those of riper years ? And have the will and other natural powers no part in these acts? Observe that [The Thirty-Nine Articles, chapter IX] says, that ‘man is very far gone from original righteousness,’ not ‘altogether.’” [14] (emphasis added)

A few points to note: There is an explicit rejection of the doctrine of irresistible grace. The conclusion that man must be able to make some movement towards his own salvation is based on a rejection of that doctrine.

Summing up, what we see is that England circa 1900 was a diverse place both denominationally and theologically. The Arminian view that there is a kind of universal grace, called prevenient grace, which enables men to have a good will and thus to make the first step toward their own salvation, was evident. This view is implicit, but not explicit, in the COE’s Thirty-Nine Articles. Because the COE is a fairly broad umbrella, it is hard to say how Article X which seems to allude to this universal grace was interpreted at the time or how a particular Anglican (in this case Charlotte Mason) would have understood it, though there is evidence that some (as Joseph Miller) took an Arminian view. [15]

Narrowing in: The Theology of J. Paterson Smythe

J. Paterson Smythe was a clergyman in the Church of Ireland whose book The Bible for Home and School Charlotte Mason recommended and used in her schools. I have recently read two of Smythe’s books, volume 8 from the above work, which is on the Gospel of Mark, and On the Rim of the World, a book for adults which addresses what happens to those who die. I reviewed these and discussed the theology evident in them in this post and this one.

What we saw in those posts was that while Smythe holds to some widely accepted Christian tenets — the sinful nature of man, his need of a savior, and that Christ is that savior — he also takes a very clearly Arminian view. He makes quite clear that God’s will to save us is dependent upon our willingness to be saved. Specifically, Smythe speaks of man’s Will as the key deciding factor. That is, the first step that is required of man is that he must make a conscious and deliberate act of the Will to choose to align himself with God. In the absence of this act of the Will, his fate remains undecided. The default option seems to be neither condemnation nor salvation. Man must ultimately move one way or the other. If he does not clearly do so in this life, he will be given another chance in the next. This latter bit is not necessarily characteristic of Arminianism, but the idea that man must act and contribute to his salvation is and Smythe adds some specification: that what man contributes is that act of the Will.

Now Charlotte Mason, as we have said, recommended and used Smythe’s book for teachers. This does not imply that she adhered to all his theology, but it does point us in a certain direction. So next we must turn to Charlotte’s own words.

The Theology of Charlotte Mason

As we move to looking at what Charlotte herself said, I want to clarify again the questions we are asking. We are not asking if she believed men are sinful. Arminianism admits original sin and perhaps even total depravity. We are asking if there is a kind of general grace which affects all men and enables them to do any good. We are asking if they contribute in any way to their own salvation. And in light of Smythe’s writings, we are looking particularly at whether the Will might be that contributing factor.

In her six-volume Home Education series [16], Mason addresses issues of the Will and faith most directly in four places: chapter 6 of volume 1 (Home Education) which is on the Will; volume 2 (Parents and Children) beginning on p. 127 when she discusses a series of sermons by a Rev. Canon Beeching on faith; volume 4 (Ourselves), book 2, parts 2 and 3 on the Will and the Soul respectively; and book 1, chapter 6 of volume 6 (Towards a Philosophy of Education) which is again on the Will. Much of the material in the chapters on the Will in volumes 1, 4, and 6 is the same, sometimes word-for-word. I would say that volume 1 introduces a topic, already fairly fully formed, which becomes expanded in volume 4 and recapped in volume 6. It is interesting to note that while Mason wrote her series over quite a span of time — volume 1 was written in 1886 and volume 6 was published in 1923 — her ideas of the topics we will address seem to have changed very little.

In volume 1 and again in volume 4, Charlotte Mason offers us a kind of anthropology or psychology of the inner man. The inmost person, she says, consists of 3 chambers, a structure analogous to that of the Israelite temple (vol. 1, p. 317). The outermost is the Will (p. 317). Next is the Conscience (p. 330) and the “holy of holies,” the innermost chamber, is the Soul (p. 342).

If you have read much Mason, you know that she talks about what she calls the Way of the Will quite a bit. Charlotte herself says the Will is hard to define (vol. 1, p. 318). She seems often to speak of it in two ways. When she discusses the training of children, much of what she says of the Will will seem acceptable to us. Under this heading she speaks at length about the difference between being wilful and will-less and she notes that making use of one’s Will, while essential to true advancement in faith, is not a prerequisite of the Christian life (vol. 1, p. 322).  Much of what she says is good, practical parenting advice and I encourage you to read it. Yet, as we will see below, at other times she speaks of a certain act of the Will as the first step towards God. It is this latter use of “Will” that concerns us today. 

The Will is the executive, or commanding, power (vol 1, p. 317). The Will orders all the other human faculties — reason and the emotions among them (vol. 4, p. 127). There is an important distinction between the Will and what we commonly call being wilful. Those who are wilful actually do not exercise their Wills at all but are carried away by their own desires. Esau was a wilful man; he sacrificed his inheritance for an immediate appetite (vol. 4, p. 130). Jacob worked for a higher end though his methods were not always good (p. 131). Thus we see on one hand that some men, like Esau, never use their Wills, and, on the other, that the Will is not inherently good or bad. It is amoral and can be used in the service of either good or evil. Neither does using one’s Will inherently make one a great man nor does being great mean one makes use of his Will. Mason gives the example of Napoleon who was not a man of Will but was led by his desires and yet conquered most of Europe (vol. 4, p. 132). 

Though some men may neglect this ability, Mason says men are made to will as kings are made to reign (vol. 4, p. 140). The Will always has an object outside itself (vol. 4, p. 139). The ideal is a “simple, rectified Will, what our Lord calls ‘the single eye’”  (vol. 4, p. 138). I am not entirely sure what she means by this but my guess is that she is talking about having one, focused Will, being what the Bible calls whole-hearted. 

 “Choose ye this day,” is the command that comes to each of us in every affair and on every day of our lives, and the business of the will is to choose” (vol. 6, p. 133). For Mason, the Will is a free agent, the only faculty of man that is free (vol. 4, p. 143).  According to her definition of Will, it cannot be anything but free (vol. 4, p. 173). Whenever the Will chooses one option, it inherently rejects another (vol. 4, p. 147). [17] Every choice is ultimately not a matter of one action or person versus another but of choosing between ideas (vol. 4, p 147). This use of the word “idea,” which runs throughout Mason’s work may seem a little odd to us. In the context of her discussion of the Will, one might think of ideals. Even seemingly simple choices, she tells us, as that between purchasing one suit versus another, may rest on deeper values (vol. 4, p.148). 

There are many choices one makes in life, but one is ultimate: the choice between serving God (and secondarily one’s fellow man) and the service of self (vol. 6, .p 135; cf. vol. 4, p. 172). Mason says that this choice is open to all but urges that one not wait to make it (vol. 4, pp. 150-51). Note that this choice too is presented as a choice man makes and as an act of Will. 

The next chamber Mason speaks of it that of the Conscience. According to Mason, each man is born with a conscience. He is born to love the good and hate the evil (vol. 1, p. 333). Yet a child’s conscience is immature and must be instructed (vol. 1, pp. 333-34). This is not an endless process. Maturity is possible: “The instructed conscience may claim to be, if not infallible, at any rate nearly always right” (vol. 1, p. 335). 

The innermost chamber is what Mason calls the Divine Life or the Soul. Only God can satisfy men’s souls and the Soul is made for God (vol. 1, p. 342; vol. 4, p. 175). Yet the Soul has its “disabilities” (vol. 4, p. 177). Mason speaks of the souls of some men as dead, but later contradicts this and says they are not dead but asleep (vol. 4, p.177). Elsewhere she uses the words “nascent,” “torpid” (vol.1, p. 343),  “lethargic” (vol. 4, p. 177), and “crippled” (vol. 4, p. 179). The child is not born with an awakened soul, but one that needs to be unfolded like a flower opening (vol.1, p. 343).

Though the human soul is made to love God and has that inclination yet it is also averse to God (vol. 4, p. 179). The initial aversion to God is not in itself sin. To deliberately reject God is sin, but one’s innate aversion is not sinful (vol. 4, p. 180).

The choice of which of these two inclinations to follow is a free one for Mason (vol. 4; bk 2, pt 3, ch 2). “[F]aith is the act of Will by which we choose Him whom we have learned to know” (vol. 4, p. 199). This freedom she views as a good: ” . . . if our hearts flew to God as inevitably as raindrops to the earth where would our election, our willing choice of God before all things, come in? Where would be the sense of victory in our allegiance?” (vol. 4, p. 180). Note the use of the word “election” here. Mason is not referring to God’s election of us but our election of Him. 

The dormant soul, whether of a child or an adult, is awakened when it is confronted with the idea of God (vol. 4, p. 178). Remember that it is ideas, for Mason, that the Will must choose between. For her to say that children must be presented with the idea of God is as much as to say they must be presented with God.  For children it is their parents who are to present this idea to them, though they cannot control whether the child accepts the idea (vol.1, pp. 343-44). She also speaks of the necessity of God’s written Word as the means by which we know Him (vol. 4, pp. 184-85). These both, then, the witness of the Bible and of other people, are tools used by God Himself to present the one most needful idea to our Souls. 

There seems to be some initial action on the part of God in this. It is He who reaches out to the Soul (vol.1, p. 322, 344; vol. 4, p. 177). But our response is by no means inevitable; the Will must choose and the Soul must respond. 

“But, fit and necessary as it is to us to know our God, it is by no means inevitable . . . We must begin with an act of steadfast will, a deliberate choice . . .” (vol. 4, p. 186)

This issue of God’s role versus ours is key to the question we have before us today. If we neglect the means of grace given to us, Mason says, “I do not see much ground for hoping that divine grace will step in as a substitute for any and every power we choose to leave unused or misdirected” (vol. 1, p. 331). Quite often Mason speaks as if God’s effort depends upon our own:

“It is even so; in every department of life, physical or spiritual, human effort appears to be the condition of the Divine energizing; there must be a stretching forth of the withered arm before it receives strength; and we have every reason to believe that the instructed conscience, being faithfully followed, is divinely illuminated.” (vol. 1, pp. 340-41; empahsis original)

“But there is one great, perfect and satisfying Intimacy open to us all . . . We are abashed when we think of the promotion open to every poor human soul . . . and this knowledge, this exalted intimacy, is open to us all, on one condition only––if we choose . . . it is startling to know that this supreme friendship is to be had by each of us if he will, because every human soul has capacity for the knowledge of God” (vol. 4, p. 183; emphasis original)

In her discussion of Canon Beeching’s sermons, Mason speaks clearly of the human ability to turn to God:

“ . . . just that measure of moral light and leading which a man lays himself open to receive is freely given to him.” (vol. 2, p. 135)

And again:

 “‘ . . . He is so far from declaring that men can do no good thing, that He assumes always that man in his proper state of dependence upon God has the power to do righteousness. ‘Whosoever shall do the will of My Father, which is in heaven, the same is My brother, and sister, and mother.’” (vol. 2, pp. 139-40; emphasis added)

Elsewhere, she says that “faith is itself no self-originated impulsebut (quoting Beeching) “‘the springing up of a man’s heart in response to the encircling pressure of the ‘Everlasting Arms”” (vol. 2, p. 137). There is some ambiguity, then, in Mason’s thought as to which comes first, God’s grace or our faith.

To conjecture that Mason adhered to something like the prevenient grace of the Arminians seems to resolve this discrepancy. This doctrine, you will recall, says that there is a grace which enables all men to have faith if they will. God then responds to this faith with saving grace. Because grace which ultimately leads to salvation enters into the process at two points, one can both say that grace precedes faith and that grace is a response to human faith. 

In defense of such a supposition, I would point to Mason’s use of the phrase “redeemed world” [18]. She speaks of our “redeemed world” as a lovely place in which children turn naturally to their Savior as flowers turn toward the sun:

“And perhaps it is not too beautiful a thing to believe in this redeemed world, that, as the babe turns to his mother though he has no power to say her name, as the flowers turn to the sun, so the hearts of the children turn to their Saviour and God with unconscious delight and trust.” (vol. 1, p. 20; emphasis added; cf. p. 331)

Once she uses the phrase “redeemed human race”:

“… believing that there is such ‘progress in character and virtue’ possible to the redeemed human race as has not yet been realised or even imagined.” (vol. 2, p. 248; emphasis added)

And finally, this most revealing quote:

“But we live in a redeemed world, and one of the meanings which that unfathomable phrase bears is, that it is the duty of those who have the care of childhood to eradicate each vulgar and hateful trait, to plant and foster the fruits of that kingdom in the children who have been delivered from the kingdom of nature into the kingdom of grace; that is to say, all children born into this redeemed world.” (vol. 2, p. 65; emphasis added)

Note what she is saying here: all children born into this redeemed world have been delivered from the Kingdom of Nature to that of Grace. I conclude from such quotes, and from the other statements that we have seen Mason makes about human ability, that she does believe in a kind of prevenient grace which, since the work of Christ, enables all men to have faith if they will, that is, if they make a conscious act of the Will.

Conclusion

We have seen that the Arminian position, that there is a kind of prevenient grace which precedes saving grace and allows men to be able to have faith and choose God, was extant in Charlotte Mason’s society. This position would have been well within the realm of belief in her own denomination at the time and was that of J. Paterson Smythe, a source she used and recommended.

Looking at Mason’s own words, we have seen that she too speaks of the Will as the faculty by which men choose and that she attributes faith to an act of the Will. Though she clearly acknowledges human sinfulness, she speaks of the ability of all men to make this choice for God. God’s grace is at times said to precede human action but just as often, if not more so, to be dependent upon human action. Though Mason herself does to use words like “prevenient grace,” she does speak of us living in a redeemed world and she relates this concept to our innate ability to have faith. In my reading, Mason’s theology seems to be quite clearly Arminian.

Though we have not dwelt on all these points, for those of us who are Reformed it may be helpful to hold up Mason’s theology to the so-called Five Points of Calvinism. She does believe in man’s sinfulness, though she might not use the term “total depravity.”  There is some difference from the reformed understanding of sin in that she does not count our natural aversion to God as in itself sinful. Mason does not speak of our election but once at least speaks of us electing (i.e. choosing) God. Perhaps due to the initial working of a kind of prevenient, or preparing, grace, she sees salvation as being open to all men. The workings of grace and the effect of Christ’s work are then nor limited and particular for her but general or universal. She occasionally speaks as if grace were irresistible, but when she does so she seems to be talking of universal salvation. [19] God’s saving grace is made dependent on human action. It is again not clear if she expects men, once having chosen God and received saving grace, to remain always in that state, but she does seem to tend in this direction. As we saw with Smythe, one’s path is determined by a number of small actions and choices in one direction to the other. So for Mason, it seems that once one is on the path towards God, there is not much opportunity to get going back the other direction. [20]

If we are Reformed and Charlotte Mason is not, this does not mean that there is nothing  good in her philosophy of education that we can make use of. I have spent quite a long time working out my own philosophy of education and I have found myself back quite close to Mason in many, many ways. But I do think we need to be realistic about what she said and to take her at her words. It does neither her nor us any good to pretend she believed things she did not. We need ultimately to be discerning and to recognize that no one person is going to get everything right. We need to come at Mason with clear eyes, taking the good but being alert for things she may have got wrong, and we need to be willing to see that because her theology differs from ours, there may also be aspects of her philosophy of education to which we need to take exception.

Edited 8/24/2020: I now have a follow-up post to this one which looks at Charlotte Mason’s Theology in her Scale How Meditations.

Nebby

[1] Daniel J. Treier, Introducing Evangelical Theology (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2019) p. 263. Because I have been reading it recently, I am relying heavily on Treier’s recent and comprehensive work for various theological definitions and concepts. I don’t believe any of these are particularly controversial ideas, however.

[2] Treier, p. 228.

[3] John Hendryx, “Differences between Semi-Pelagianism and Arminian Beliefs,” Monergism (accessed 4/10/2020).

[4] Treier, p. 228.

[5] Treier, p. 241.

[6] It is important to note that prevenient grace is not the same as the Reformed doctrine of common grace. The latter has no power to save. In the life of the unbeliever, common grace ultimately serves only to further condemn (see this earlier post). For a good discussion of prevenient grace and the similarities and differences between Arminianism and Reformed theology, see John Hendryx, “A Short Response to the Arminian Doctrine of Prevenient Grace . . .,” Monergism (accessed 4/13/2020).

[7] See this earlier post for a more general survey of Christian beliefs on the effects of the Fall.

[8] “The Child and Religion,” Crown Theological Library (1905). Available from Forgotten Books here or from Archive.org here. See also this earlier post for a discussion of this article.

[9] This latter category may be a little foreign to us in the modern political environment in which we live. This is not a category we tend to think of, but they lived in a different time, one in which England could be said to be a Christian nation in that it had one majority religion, not to mention a state church.

[10] According to Wikipedia [“Demography of England,” (accessed 4/13/2020)] the population of England was approximately 30,000,000 in 1901 and 33,000,000 in 1911. “Methodism in Numbers” (July 2018) tells us that in 1906 there were upwards of 800,000 Methodists in England. By my calculations this means that in 1906, roughly 2.5% of the population was Methodist. For the sake of comparison, in 1901 England was 4.8% Roman Catholic [“Catholic Church in England and Wales,” Wikipedia (accessed 4/14/2020)].

[11] Treier, p. 268.

[12] Treier, p. 230.

[13] Thomas Nettles, “Methodist Theology,” The Gospel Coalition (accessed 4/14/2020).

[14] Joseph Miller, The Thirty-nine articles of the Church of England, a historical and speculative exposition( 1885) pp. 25-26.

[15] Still in the 2000s the question of whether The Thirty-Nine Articles present a reformed position is up for debate. J.I. Packer has argued they are reformed as opposed to Lutheran, but Martin Davie takes a contrary position. He argues that the Articles do not fall into either of these categories, nor would the writers have thought in terms of these categories, but that they present a more eclectic theology [Martin Davie, The Inheritance of Our Faith (Gilead Boks, 2013)].

[16] There are a number of editions of the series available today. Because it is free and easily accessible, I will refer to the page numbers in Ambleside Online’s online editions in my citations.

[17] Note that this, for Mason, does not mean rejection of authority,  whether ecclesiastical or civil; to submit to authority is also an act of the Will (vol. 4, p. 145).

[18] I have previously discussed one of these in my post The Key to Charlotte Mason’s Thought. 

[19] This is not a point we got into, but Mason does at times speak as if she expects all men to be saved: “He will draw all men, because it is not possible for any human soul to resist the divine loveliness once it is fairly and fully presented to his vision” (vol. 2, p. 138). I suspect that this is not as much a doctrine she has worked out clearly for herself as an inclination she has. 

[20] “ . . . when we see that, in desiring God, we have set before us a great aim, requiring all our courage and constancy, then the Will rises, chooses, ranks itself steadfastly on the side of God; and, though there be many failings away and repentings after this one great act of Will, yet, we may venture to hope, the Soul has chosen its side for good and all.” (vol. 4, p. 182)

Book Review: The Liturgy of Creation

Dear Reader,

Michael Lefebvre’s The Liturgy of Creation: Understanding Calendars in Old Testament Context (Downers Grove, IL: Intervarsity Press, 2019) presents an interesting new approach to Genesis 1. LeFebvre is a member of my own denomination, a pastor, and a professor at the denominational seminary. He is clearly an intelligent scholar who has done a lot of study and put a lot of thought into the argument he makes. Having read the book and taken some time to ponder it, I am still not entirely sure where I fall on its argument.

My own background is in biblical Hebrew [1] and I have given some thought to the creation story in the past. Going into this book I would have said I am somewhat agnostic on creation issues, tending toward an Old Earth creationism but certainly not a literal 6-day creationism. [2] I also would say (and have said) that Genesis 1 is a unique narrative. It stands not just at the beginning of our Bible but as an introduction to the Pentateuch, the Old Testamen,t and the Scriptures as a whole. Despite attempts to define it, it is not really like any other section of Scripture in terms of its style and genre. Therefore it is hard to know how to take it.  I have argued, for instance, that though literal creationists want to compare the use of days with numbers attached to other such uses in the Pentateuch, that these can not really be compared on an equal footing since they are not the same kinds of texts.

LeFebvre has no doubt gotten and will get a lot of flack for his book from literal 6-day creationists. In fact, a large part of the book is devoted to saying, again and again, that Genesis 1 cannot be used to say anything about the scientific aspects of when and how the earth was created. This is not my problem with the book. I went into the book already half-way on LeFebvre’s side in that I did not take the six days literally and I do take Genesis 1 as a different kind of genre, though I had no real answer to the question of what that genre is.

LeFebvre provides an answer to the question. The thesis of his book is that Genesis 1 is a calendar narrative (p. 6). As far as I know this is a genre he has uniquely identified and defined. The arguments he makes are built something like a brick wall in that they all hold together and work toward a common goal but it would be possible to disagree with some points here and there without knocking down the whole edifice. To mix my metaphors, one might say many of his arguments are circumstantial evidence. No one alone proves his point but when taken altogether he does make a compelling case.

I can’t possibly address everything LeFebvre brings into the discussion. I am going to leave aside all the scientific/creationist issues because (a) I am sure others will address those at length and (b) they are not issues for me personally. What I would like to focus on are just a few of the bigger issues and implications of Lefebvre’s argument.

Simply put, LeFeFebvre’s argument is that there is a genre within the Old Testament which he calls calendar narrative. He begins by looking at other passages from the Pentateuch and showing how the dates in them make no sense if taken literally (or at least pose serious issues). He shows how these dates line up with the festival holidays of Israel and argues that they were never meant to be taken literally but to tie Israel’s history to its calendar observances. These dates, he says, were for “liturgical remembrance,” not “journalistic detail” (p. 60). They were meant for the instruction of later generations (p. 66). Whereas the surrounding Ancient Near Eastern cultures might tie their festivals to their myths, Israel’s festivals were rooted in their history (p. 14). Thus the story of the Passover, for one, is not intended to provide a precise history but to give instruction and meaning to the worshipper who will come later (p. 77).

Having learned “a reading strategy” (p. 66) from these other passages, LeFebvre turns to Genesis 1 and argues that the seven-day week it describes was also never meant to be taken literally. Like those other dates, the narrative of Genesis 1, according to Lefebvre, provides a justification for Israel’s festivals. In this case it is the weekly work cycle culminating in the Sabbath which is the focus (p. 113).  Note that it is not the Sabbath alone which Genesis 1 points to but the whole week. It is an example to us as much of what we should be doing the first six days of the week as what we should be doing on the final day. The description of God’s work week in Genesis 1 establishes the pattern for the human week. As LeFebvre describes the events of that first week, there are the normal patterns of plants growing and the normal taxonomy of animals with which the Israelite farmer would have been familiar (p. 173). There is nothing miraculous here; the original audience would have recognized what happens in Genesis 1 as mirroring their normal work. God, in this scenario, is the pattern for humans (p. 137). He is the Model Farmer (p. 165). The culmination of the week, the seventh day, is a time to enjoy the fruits of one’s labor. It is a day of feasting.

On one level, there is a lot of appeal to LeFebvre’s theory. As I said, it tends to be in line with where my thoughts were going anyway — that Genesis has a unique genre and that we need to understand it as such. I think we also need to admit that there are some parts of the Bible that are just hard to take as literal history. Some dates don’t seem to line up or to make sense. There are various ways to deal with these seeming contradictions and some are more convincing than others. LeFebvre’s theory does an end-run around such arguments by saying that these dates were never meant to be taken literally.  He rather elegantly does away with the seeming contradictions without undermining the text or robbing them of it meaning.

LeFebvre spends some time explaining how the Bible deals with the scientific theories and beliefs of its day. Basically his argument is that the Bible never contradicts what its original readers would have believed. It never stretches them scientifically even if what they believed was wrong (a geocentric universe for example). In the context of his overall argument, this is perfectly acceptable. Since the Bible was not meant as science, it has no need to correct wrong science or to teach right science. I do actually like how he explains all this. It was not something I had thought about in this way but it makes sense.

I am less persuaded by some of his other arguments. (Recall that these arguments are like bricks in a wall; if we remove too many the whole will fall but to reject one or two is not necessarily to overthrow the whole.) He largely discounts miraculous explanations for the seeming contradictions. Not that he is a denier of miracles altogether, but he argues that if “the supernatural help of the Lord” were needed to accomplish large tasks such as the making of the utensils for the tabernacle in a relatively short amount of time that the text would have made this explicit (p. 87). This seems like a big assumption to me. One could argue on the other side that because there are so many instances where things were accomplished in humanly impossible (or at least improbable) amounts of time that this is how the text operates — these things happen and it does not comment on them. As with so many aspects of the biblical story, we are left to draw our own conclusions.

The thesis of LeFebvre’s book is that Genesis 1 is something he calls a calendar narrative. He bases this identification on the analogy with the other Pentateuchal texts which give dates. While he makes a compelling argument that the other passages use dates in a liturgical way, I don’t think he has established that there is a genre called calendar narrative or that Genesis 1 necessarily uses dates in the same way. As LeFebvre points out, the dates in Genesis 1 are different. They are days of the week with no reference to months (p. 115). He would say that this is because Genesis 1 speaks of the repeated weekly cycle rather than the yearly festivals, but, nonetheless, it is a difference. Genesis 1 is also one compact, discrete, and highly organized narrative. Compare this to the Flood story or the descriptions of Passover. My belief going into this was that Genesis 1 stands apart from the other Old Testament narratives we have because of its form and organization. LeFebvre has made a connection via the use of dates but he has not shown me that there is a genre here or what its defining characteristics would be, other than the use of specific dates which hardly seems enough to define a genre.

There is a difference as well in how LeFebvre himself deals with the details of these narratives. When speaking of the other narratives, he seems to take their details literally, apart from the issue of timing. Thus he can discuss how long it would have taken to make the utensils for the Tabernacle because he assumes that these utensils were made just as the text says and that the other events also happened as well in roughly the order they are presented. Yet when he comes to Genesis 1, there seems to be very little that he takes literally. To dismiss the idea of a literal week is one thing, but LeFebvre also says that the events of Creation need not have happened in the order they are presented (p. 138) and that even the mechanism of Creation is not meant literally (p. 146).

LeFebvre’s overall argument makes a very strong case for the Sabbath which I am not at all opposed to but it does so at the expense of other meaning. Coming as Genesis 1 does at the beginning of the whole Bible and being as it is a highly ordered narrative (a fairly unique thing within the Scriptures) one expects it to give an introduction to everything that follows, to set the tone if you will. [3] For Lefebvre, that introduction boils down to the Sabbath and the Sabbath alone:

“When the Holy Spirit guided the compilation of the Pentateuch, the sabbath-week calendar was placed at the front — literally in its first chapter (Gen 1:1-2:3). The cadence taught in that passage is the foundation from which our vision of God’s kingdom is unfolded in the rest of Scripture.” (p. 218)

In other words: “The Sabbath promise is literally the framing paradigm for all Scripture” (p. 219). This is quite a bold statement yet it comes at the end of the book with little discussion of how this would play out for our interpretation of the rest of the Bible. Let me say this again: LeFebvre is proposing a new paradigm for understanding all of Scripture.  Now the Sabbath is a wonderful thing and I think he could go a long way by talking about the ideal Sabbath rest which was set before us in Genesis 1, lost, found again in Jesus, and awaits us in eternity. But is this the paradigm by which we should understand all of Scripture? There are surely competing options. Covenant comes to mind. Jesus said that all of Scripture points to Him. If we are to say that Sabbath is the paradigm then at the very least that needs to be understood under the heading of Jesus as our Sabbath rest in which case it is not really the Sabbath which is key but Christ.

LeFebvre makes grand claims for Genesis 1 and yet in many ways he seems to rob it of meaning. His view of Genesis 1 is very focused and narrow. He concentrates on the weekly cycle of work and rest but in his understanding there is little else that Genesis 1 has to tell us. Personally, I think God tends to be a little more multifunctional than that. If we compare Genesis 1 to the Flood story, another of his calendar narratives, we find that while we might follow LeFebvre in not taking the dates literally there is still a lot the text has to tell us about not just big concepts like sin and judgment (not to mention baptism) but even about details like how many animals came in. If there is such a thing as calendar narrative, we still need to ask and answer questions about how we are to understand this genre. It is not enough to say “calendar narrative” as a way to explain the dates in a story and then to ignore the rest of what that narrative has to tell us. Considering the genre of any piece is useful in that it helps us know how to read that piece. LeFebvre has given a theory about how to understand the dates of certain texts, but he hasn’t spoken to how this helps our understanding of the rest of the details of these narratives.

As LeFebvre explains it, there is little left in Genesis 1 that would have been new information for its original audience. He makes a point of the fact that its agricultural details would have been very familiar to the average ancient Israelite. The actions and details of Genesis 1 would have been completely representative of the weekly cycle of work and rest of the average person. So much so that LeFebvre calls God “the Model Farmer.” I am willing to give LeFebvre the benefit of the doubt that he does not mean it this way but it is hard not to feel at times that, rather than man following the example of God here, God is being made in the image of man.

Often throughout the book I found myself wondering if what we have here is a chicken-and-egg problem. That is, which came first? If the Passover story (as an example) is being told in a way that instructs about the later celebration of that festival at the expense of the actual details about how the original Passover happened, which is the original story? Are there events which happened upon which the festival is based? Or is the story about Moses and the Israelites told to justify the festival? Again, this may not be how LeFebvre himself sees it (and I suspect it is not) but this is quite how modern, non-religious scholars take such texts — every story is created to explain a situation the audience already is quite familiar with. This is the definition of myth (with no implied judgment on its truthiness). Thus in Greek mythology the story of Demeter and Persephone explains the seasons and the Tower of Babel story explains why people speak different languages. LeFebvre’s understanding of Genesis 1 seems to fall into this same pattern — it explains something the audience already knew (agricultural cycles) and why they have certain practices (weekly work/rest pattern) but it would not have been informative for the original audience. In such an understanding, it is a story to explain why we do things the way we do not to tell us how to do something. The question for Genesis 1, then, is: Is the creation story written this way to justify the weekly practice or do the people have the weekly practice because this is how creation happened?

In his understanding of how dates are used in the Pentateuch, I do think LeFebvre has hit on something that deserves more attention. He has shown quite clearly how the various specific dates given lined up with Israel’s various festivals and feasts and that is quite compelling. He has not convinced me that there is a genre here that can be used to understand Genesis 1 in particular.  What I would like to see is a fuller description of the defining characteristics of this genre and how we are to interpret it, especially how we are to understand the details of such a story given its genre. I tend to agree with LeFebvre that there is not much we can get about chronology from Genesis 1 but that does not mean that there is not more that the story is telling us beyond the weekly cycle of work and rest.

LeFebvre is quite right when he says that his interpretation makes the Sabbath the paradigm for all of Scripture. But that is a huge claim. It is a fairly daunting thing in the year 2000-something to say “I have a new paradigm for understanding Scripture.” If he means it, I think he also needs to speak to how that paradigm shapes our understanding of the rest of the Bible.

If I can close by returning to the analogy I started with, I think LeFebvre has some very interesting bricks here. I am not convinced he has built a wall. When he speaks of the Sabbath paradigm, I feel he is saying “look, I can see a totally new country from my wall,” but he doesn’t tell me enough about what that country looks like.

Nebby

[1] I have a bachelors and masters in Hebrew from one secular university and was ABD “all but dissertation” in a Ph.D. Program at another prestigious secular university.

[2] You can find earlier posts I did on the whole creation/evolution thing here.

[3] Psalm 1 sets the tone for the Book of Psalms in much the same way.

[4] “Secular” here describes the institutions which had no religious affiliation (except perhaps a very distant historical one). The students and staff held to a range of beliefs. Some, students especially, professed various forms of Christianity. Some, professors especially, were fairly religious Jews.

Characteristics of Classical Education

Dear Reader,

This post is part of my ongoing series in search of a reformed Christian theology of education. Find all the posts here.

I may be reinventing the wheel here, but I wanted to talk a little about the characteristics of classical education. The term is used very broadly to refer to education movements and styles from antiquity, the middle ages, and modern times. In each of these eras there can by any number of classical educators, each with their own unique take (even the ancient world was not uniform; see this post for some background on the varieties of classical ed). If we pick any two at random we may find little that seems to unite them. Many fruitless conversations happen in online forums, discussing whether such-and-such a person is classical because we have no one good definition.

What I’d like to propose today is a list of criteria. If the curriculum you are looking at has all of the following characteristics, it is classical. If it has none, it is not. Most will fall somewhere in the middle. I am inspired in this approach by a book I read recently about some scientists researching near-death experiences. They talk in the book about typical elements, some of which are quite common (seeing a light, being in a tunnel, seeing loved ones) and some of which are less so. The IRS’s list of criteria for what makes one a small business versus a hobby is similar — it is a list to use in evaluating the issue but there is no clear line drawn. Still another way to think of this might be as: “You might be a classical educator if . . . ”

So, without further ado, here is my list of

Characteristics of Classical Education

  1. Reference to classical, mostly ancient Greek, authors as authorities in determining one’s philosophy. (eg. quoting Aristotle a lot)
  2. Use of materials from classical (Greek and Roman) authors. Here I am talking not about how one develops one’s philosophy (as in #1 above) but about what books and resources are actually used by the student.
  3. Frequent use of the word “virtue” and reference to virtue as a (or the) goal of education.
  4. A belief that virtue can be taught and/or learned. This may be phrased in various ways, but on some level virtue comes through education.
  5. Education as discipleship. A prominent role given to the teacher as a role-model.
  6. Related to #5, imitation as a primary means of education.
  7. A disciplinary approach to education. I use the word disciplinary here not in the sense of correcting one’s wrongs but in the sense Jaarsma uses it in his list of four approaches to education (see this post). A disciplinary approach seeks to shape the student.
  8. The idea that there is a body of knowledge outside of man which needs to be learned.
  9. Related to #8, the belief that there is a list of books or resources which all students should learn, a common body of knowledge.
  10. An emphasis on Western civilization and culture.
  11. The idea that there are absolutes of truth, beauty, and goodness which are transcendental and exist outside of man.
  12. A belief that truth can be known.
  13. A high view of man as one who is more than just physicality and who is able to know truth.
  14. Questioning as a means of education. The word dialectic may be used to describe this process and one may say phrases like “the most important thing is to learn to ask the right questions.”
  15. An emphasis on rhetoric and learning to speak well.
  16. Learning of dead languages, especially Greek and Latin.
  17. The learning of logical argumentation.
  18. A rejection of a purely scientific view of knowledge.
  19. The use of terms like “poetic knowledge” or “musical knowledge” to refer to a kind of understanding which is intuitive and/or non-scientific.
  20. A staged approach to education in which children at progress through different kinds of learning at different ages.
  21. A hierarchical view of the fields of knowledge with philosophy and/or theology at the top.

A Test Case: Is Charlotte Mason Classical?

Though it is really not my sole purpose in putting together this list, the oft-disputed online question of whether Charlotte Mason’s (CM) philosophy of education is classical serves as a nice test case to show how we might use these criteria.

Let’s start with what is CM on this list. She does use classical sources (#2). Plutarch stands forth quite notably. Though I would venture to say that she might use fewer than some others. She also believed in the learning of ancient languages (#16). She also believed that there is a body of knowledge outside of man (#8) and that truth can be known (#12). She very definitely had a high view of man (#13).

Next let’s look at those characteristics which are distinctly not present in CM. She does not primarily quote classical sources as the foundation of her philosophy (#1). While it is quite possible she knows these sources and is relying on them, she points to the gospels as the source of her ideas. She does not use the term virtue overly often (#3, 4). There is some element of developing virtue in her philosophy; it is not that she in unconcerned about virtue, but she does not speak of it as classical educators usually do and does not frame it as the goal of her approach. The role of the teacher is distinctly different than in classical education (#5, 6). The teacher provides material, as one spreads a feast, and then largely steps back. While there is some common body of knowledge (#9) and, given her own cultural situation, she relies largely on western civilization (#10), she does not expect every child to glean the same things. So one might say in her philosophy there is a common body of knowledge but not every child will take in the same parts of it. She does not particularly emphasize or make use of questioning (#14), rhetoric (#15), or logic (#17). While she seems open to modern science, because of her time period, it is not an issue she addresses head-on (#18, 19). If I had to guess I would say she might reject the modern reliance on scientific knowledge alone. She rejects a staged approach to education (#20) and does not present a hierarchical or pyramidal view of the fields of knowledge (#21).

Overall then, I would say that Charlotte Mason really does not fall in the classical camp as I define it. I don’t have any illusions that this will end the debate, and it is not that there aren’t points of overlap, but if I were to quantify it, I would say she is not more than 25% classical. In contrast, many of the other authors I have looked at (who would term themselves classical) — Taylor, Hicks, Wilson, and Clark and Jain — would probably match all but a few of these criteria.

Nebby

A Reformed Philosophy of Education: the Framework

Dear Reader,

This post is part of my ongoing series in search of a reformed Christian theology of education. Find all the posts here.

I have recently given you, as best I can, my own philosophy of education as it now stands. In doing so I argued that one of the most important facets of a reformed Christian education is to give the right framework. Today I want to try to clarify what I mean by that.

There are a number of words which can be used for the sort of thing I am speaking about — framework, worldview, mindset, attitude, culture, perspective, even the German weltanschauung. [1] Each of these holds some aspect of what I am trying to get at and yet none of them seems to quite sum it up. This thing I am trying to describe is what provides context and proper understanding to everything that is learned. It is a framework in that it underlies everything else and gives it some structure. But framework sounds too bare-bones as if it lacks particulars. It is a worldview in that it shapes how we view the world. But worldview is often an over-used and abused term in Christian circles. It often seems to amount to slapping some Bible verses on a math lesson but to have little substantive value. And I am conscious that some tend to boil down a Christian worldview to one or two easy propositions which do not take into account the fullness of God. [2] It is a mindset because it is a way of thinking; an attitude because it is pervasive. It is a culture that binds Christians together. It is a perspective in that it shapes how we see.

What has convinced me lately that we need this framework (for lack of a better term) and that it is utterly vital is not all my reading and thinking on education but my praying for others in my life. I am realizing as I do so that there are many who seem to simply inhabit a different world than I do. Some are perfectly happy in a completely material world with absolutely no concern for or awareness of a spiritual dimension. My prayers for them are the most frustrating because they seem to have absolutely no felt need for anything more than what they see. They walk by sight and not by faith (2 Cor. 5:7). I am reminded of Elisha’s servant who saw only the Assyrian army surrounding him until his eyes were opened to see the host of God (2 Kgs. 6:14-17).

Others believe in something spiritual but it is still not the same world I inhabit. It is often a world full of good spirits (they never seem to believe that some of these spirits might be bad or deceptive).  For others it is a world in which positive thoughts and good vibes are effective. I have a cousin who seems to genuinely believe she caused a vegan restaurant to open in her neighborhood simply by sending out positive energy (vegan restaurants are clearly a supreme good in her estimation). Her sister thinks the universe sent her a dresser when she needed one. This is a universe in which there are many interconnected strands. I picture them like a spider’s web we walk amongst. Pull on one and anything might happen.

This thing then which teachers and parents should have and which they should communicate to their students is really a particular conception of reality. We need to believe in a God who is all-powerful and compassionate, just and merciful. We need to believe in absolute truth and in goodness and beauty and in our ability to discern them in the world around us. We need to believe that all things work ultimately according to God’s plan and that there is no detail beneath His notice or outside His control.

There are times at which we will communicate these things to our children directly and deliberately. But far more than what we intentionally say, what we believe and do and love and how we respond to the circumstances of our own life will communicate these things. Above all we need to live in the world as if we believe these things.

Charlotte Mason speaks of atmosphere as a core element of education and that perhaps is a good word to describe what I am trying to get at. It has nothing to do with environment; it is not about what pictures are on the walls or what music is playing. It is certainly not Bible verses on a math worksheet. It is something in the air what is so pervasive that we take it in with every breath. It is what we live in. Henry Schultze uses the same word when he speaks of “a spiritual atmosphere so that he cannot reach out without touching God from some angle.” [3]

I realize this is all still very ethereal so let me end with some practical suggestions:

  • More than anything else we who teach (or parent) need to believe these things for ourselves. It can’t be fake like a pose one adopts or a mask one puts on. We are fallen people and we will not always feel what we should but we must first work on our own “worldview.” Whatever we believe will communicate itself, no matter what our words are.
  • Teach what you love. If you do not love your subject matter and you do not see God’s hand in it, then you may need to switch careers. Seriously. One cranky day does not necessitate a switch but a year of just not seeing what God is doing is a big deal. Parents and parent/teachers have less flexibility in that they must teach all subjects so it is even more important that they do the following —
  • As far as we are able we should cultivate our own appreciation for the things of God. This means prayer of course, but also feeding our own minds. Read good books on the subjects your kids are studying. They don’t necessarily have to be written by Christians but they should be by people who love their subject.
  • Pick such books for your children too. These are what we call “living books.” They may be fiction or non-fiction. Ideally they will be well-written and they should be engaging.
  • Talk about the things you think and pray about and do. Praying in your closet is not necessarily applicable to your own children. They should know what concerns you and how you deal with it. Let them see the struggles you have and how you deal with them. How are we going to believe God moves armies and nations if we don’t see Him first in the lives closest to us?
  • If you are not comfortable talking about God even to your own kids, get there. Just talking aloud about what is in your head is a great start. If you start when your kids are little, they will have no idea you are being weird. It’s not about being preachy; it’s about letting them into your inner monologue.
  • Don’t isolate children from the full family of God. They should have exposure to Christians of all ages and should hear how those people discuss their problems and how they read their Bibles and how they pray.
  • Bring your children along into the things you love. In the long run they may not love those things too but for a time at least they can participate in your love and they can experience what it is like to see God in something.
  • Talk about other people’s issues. This should be done with a fair degree of discretion. We don’t want to reveal secrets or to be gossipy, but it is often easier to reflect on the lives of others. They don’t need to be bad things. It can be “Wow, God really answered Mrs. So-and-so’s prayer for health in a dramatic way.”
  • Stories of all sorts can be wonderful for this as well and you don’t need to talk about real people. Books are best but movies can provide some good stories too. Don’t quiz your kids and don’t degenerate into being preachy but if you read and watch things that make you think then you can discuss honestly without pretense.
  • Don’t forget thanksgivings in prayer. Too often we ask for things, even repeatedly, and then neglect to mention when God answers those prayers.
  • In Old Testament times, people said thank you by relating what had been done for them. So tell the stories, personal ones as well as ones that relate to the larger body of God’s people.
  • Teach solid theology. There is almost no age that is too young. The language will get more complicated but even young children can get basic theological concepts about sin and redemption. As they get older, talk about other worldviews too so that they can recognize others’ presuppositions.

Nebby

[1] Frank Gaebelein. The Christian, The Arts, and The Truth (Portland, OR: Multnomah Press, 1985) p. 186.

[2] For more on that, see this post on Fesko’s Reforming Apologetics in which he is quite critical of Van Til and others.

[3] Henry Schultze. “The Man of God Thoroughly Furnished,” in Fundamentals in Christian Education, ed. Cornelius Jaarsma (Grand Rapids: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 1953) p. 183.

My Philosophy of Education

Dear Reader,

I have been working on this series for almost two years now. In that time, I have read a lot of books and done a lot of posts. As promised, I am now ready to offer some conclusions. Of the making of many books there is no end; neither will this be the end of my study of this topic. My hope is that it is enough of a beginning to aid those of you who seek to educate others, in whatever context.

I am going to offer my modest proposal as a series of bullet points which I hope work together to gradually build up a philosophy of education founded on Reformed Christian principles. As I said, I have been working on this series for two years (and there were years of preliminary study behind that). What follows is a summary of what I have read and gleaned. While there is some logical sequence, the numbers are given mainly to aid in discussion. [Unfortunately, WordPress does not seem to allow me to use a continuing sequence of numbers; if you look at the Google Doc version of this proposal (link below), you will see that it is actually a 100-point plan.] Behind all this is the belief I started with, that any philosophy of education, as it makes assumptions about the nature of man and about his ends, is an inherently theological enterprise (see here, here, and here). 

As much as possible I have given links to the posts in which I originally discussed each concept. If you have any questions or disputes, I encourage you first to click through and read the arguments behind each one. After that, I am happy to discuss so feel free to comment below or to contact me

Proposal for a Reformed Christian Philosophy of Education 

[This proposal can also be viewed as a Google Doc here]

Epistemology: The Source of Knowledge:

  1. The Triune God is the source of all wisdom, truth, goodness, and beauty. (John 14:6; Gaebelein on Truth; Bavinck on Art; Frank Gaebelein)
  2. Truth, goodness, and beauty stand apart from man, outside him. 
  3. God has graciously chosen to reveal some measure of His truth, goodness, and beauty to humankind.  (Fesko on Natural Law and Epistemology)
  4. He does so through His two “books” which we call special and general revelation; they are His written Word in the Scriptures and His Creation respectively. (Gaebelein on Truth; Fesko on Natural Law and Epistemology)
  5. In the pre-Fall world, the two books or revelation would have been equally accessible and operated in perfect unity.  (Fesko on Natural Law and Epistemology)

Epistemology: Man’s Ability to Know:

  1. The Fall has not changed God’s general revelation to us. The knowledge which God gives is still out there, uncorrupted and in theory available to all people, believers and non-believers. (Fesko on Natural Law and Epistemology)
  2. The Fall has corrupted man’s reason by which he accesses and evaluates this knowledge.  In this life at least, man’s reason is imperfect and incomplete. (Lloyd-Jones on Epistemology)
  3. Reason was never meant to be and cannot be our sole means of knowing.  It is a tool and was not meant to function apart from Revelation. (Crisis in Epistemology; Fesko on Natural Law and Epistemology)
  4. Only those who are united to God by faith can rightly know, though their knowledge too is limited and often corrupted by the effects of sin. (Lloyd-Jones on Epistemology; Frank Gaebelein)
  5. Non-believers suppress the right knowledge of God. Nonetheless, non-believers still have reason, now corrupted, through which they access knowledge. (Fesko on Natural Law and Epistemology)
  6. The unregenerate say many true things and their scholarship and creative arts may be useful to and appreciated by us. (Common Grace, Part 1; Christianity, Science and Truth)
  7. Though at times they may deceive us, our senses are basically reliable. We are able to use them to know about the world around us.  (Fesko on Natural Law and Epistemology)

Epistemology: The Nature of Knowledge:

  1. Knowledge, because it is of God, is good in and of itself. (Zylstra on the Transforming Power of Truth)
  2. Knowledge should be a source of delight. (John Edwards, History of Education:1500-1800;  John Milton on Education; The Christian Home-School)
  3. True knowledge is not merely rational but is intimate. (Oppewal on Epistemology; History of Education:1500-1800)
  4. Knowledge is also relational. To know is to have a relationship. (Jaarsma on Uniting the Heart and Mind; Oppewal on Epistemology)
  5. Knowledge, as the Bible uses the term, is never just head-knowledge. It is practical in that it affects one’s behavior and life.  
  6. Godly knowledge — and goodness and beauty — are active, effective, and transformative. (In Defense of Truth and Beauty; Zylstra on the Transforming Power of Truth and On Frameworks and How We Know What’sTrue; Lockerbie on Teachers)

Epistemology: What We Know:

  1. The Creation reflects the character of its Creator. (In Defense of Truth and Beauty)
  2. There is no field — from history and anthropology to chemistry and mathematics  — which falls outside of God’s dominion. The laws and forces behind each have been created and are sustained by Him. (Frank Gaebelein)
  3. Each area of study has the potential to tell us something about God.  (Frank Gaebelein; In Defense of Truth and Beauty; A Broad Education; Fine Arts; Bavinck on Art)
  4. This limit will come earlier in some fields than in others. The more subjective a field, the more it deals with God and man directly, the more quickly it will go astray. (Frank Gaebelein)

On God’s Providential Workings:

  1. God is the Giver of all knowledge and wisdom.
  2. God rules over all, but He does not rule over the elect and the nonelect in the same way.
  3. For the elect, the knowledge God gives is part of their sanctification and is ultimately for their good that they may be reunited with Him.
  4. For the unregenerate, God, by the common workings of his Holy Spirit, still gives knowledge, but this knowledge because it does not cause them to glorify God or to respond in humility and obedience, ultimately serves to condemn them all the more. (Common Grace, part 1)

The Nature of Man, and of the Child:

  1. Children are not a separate category of being. That is to say, they are at a most basic level the same sort of creature as adults. (Children in the Bible)
  2. All people, including children, consist of physical, emotional, intellectual and spiritual aspects. Though the Bible speaks of the mind, heart, soul, and strength, it does not divide up a person in such a way that one of these parts can be addressed or can operate in isolation from the others. (Deut. 6:5; Mk. 12:30; Hearts and Minds; The Tech-Wise Family)
  3. All aspects of our nature were corrupted in the Fall (WCF IV:II) and are in need of redemption and transformation (WCF XIII:II). 
  4. Our minds and hearts are thus corrupted and in need of redemption. It is God who is able to restore the heart/mind. (Education and the Covenant Child)
  5.  Children are included in the body of God’s people and are called to obey God’s law. (Children in the Bible)
  6. Children are capable both of sin and of faith (through grace, of course). (Children in the Bible)
  7. Because knowledge is intimate and relational (see #s 15 & 16 above), even the youngest children are capable of knowing. (History of Education:1500-1800; Babies Can Think)
  8. Though they are in all these ways the same as adults, children are nonetheless ignorant and foolish. They are in particular need of education and discipline and the Bible says one’s youth is the best time for these activities. (Children in the Bible)

On the Nature of Education [1]:

  1. Education acts on the mind and heart. We must always be aware, however, that the mind/heart does not operate in isolation from the other parts of the person.  (Hearts and Minds; Defining Education; Education and the Covenant Child;
  2.  God’s General Revelation is the fodder of education.  In education, we present to the child the things of God, all the truth and beauty and goodness that God has revealed. (Common Grace, Part 2) [2]
  3. God Himself is the ultimate Educator of all men. This is true of all areas of knowledge. Whether practical skills, creative arts, intellectual knowledge, or spiritual wisdom, God is the source. (History of Education: Church Fathers; also Teaching in the Old Testament) [3]
  4. Because education is ultimately a work of God, we cannot force children to learn. How knowledge is received, whether it even can be received, will depend upon the character of the recipient and the work of the Holy Spirit. (Teaching in the New Testament)

On the Purpose of Education: the Big Picture:

  1. Education will work differently in the life of the believer and the non-believer. (cf. #26 above)
  2. In the life of an unregenerate person, the effect is that of a Call. Either the person will, by grace, respond in faith, or, if he does not, the effect will ultimately be for his condemnation. When we educate non-believing students, those outside the covenant community of God, we are playing a part in the process that will ultimately either lead to their salvation or seal their fate.  In theological language, this is the External Call which goes forth to all humanity. (Common Grace, Part 1 and Part 2; Van Til on Education)
  3.  In education we bring before our believing students the things of God. When God’s people learn and think about what He has made and done, they are transformed. This transformation is an element of what we call sanctification.  (Education and Sanctification; Education and the Covenant Child; Lockerbie; also CM and the Puritans on Education)
  4. In so far as it transforms the minds and hearts of God’s people, election builds up the Church and glorifies God.  (Education and the Covenant Child; see also History of Jewish Education)

On the Purpose of Education: Human Perspective: [4]

  1. Education is part of God’s ordinary means. This is particularly true in the lives of covenant children for whom education is a means God uses to fulfill their baptismal promises. (Louis Berkhof)
  2. The purpose of education is to be found in the purpose of man’s life. To the extent that man’s purpose is to “know God and enjoy Him forever,” this also is the purpose of education.  (Henry Zylstra; Nicholas Beversluis)
  3. Education is a part of God’s grand plan, the end of which is His own glory. It brings His general revelation to men.  (JG Vos on Education; The Purpose of Education, Part 1; Common Grace, part 2)
  4. While there are certainly larger and more societal aspects to education, the primary goal on a day-to-day basis should be for the individual. (The Purpose of Education, Part 2)
  5. While education can serve both long- and short-term goals, because they are more likely to be lost in the business of life, we should keep the long-term goals always before us. (The Purpose of Education, Part 1)
  6. In the lives of the elect, the primary goal of education is the long-term transformation of the individual more and more into the image of Christ. It is then a part of the process we call sanctification. (cf. #41 above)
  7. To be transformed is to become more and more “whole-hearted.” The effect of sin is to divide us, to make us double-minded beings. Our hearts and minds are transformed when the effect of sin in them grows less and they more and more are united to a single purpose which aligns with the will of God. (Henry Schultze on the Integrated Personality; Lockerbie on Christian Paideia)
  8. Education thus serves to undo the effects of the Fall. (John Milton on Education; JG Vos on Education; Goals and Purposes)
  9. There will be secondary goals which are achieved along the way as well: a man will be prepared for the work God calls him to; the Church will be built; God’s kingdom in this world will be furthered. These are not secondary goals because they are unimportant but because if we, in our fallenness, make them primary goals of education, we tend to go astray. In God’s providence all things work together for His purposes which are many-layered. We are not God and so when we take the focus off of the sanctification of each individual we tend to go astray. 
  10. While there are certainly good, practical outcomes to education, we must guard against a degeneration into utilitarianism. (Zylstra on the Transforming Power of Truth; Mathematics)

Practical Aspects: The Student:

  1. Because children are sinners and because of the ignorance of their youth, they are in need of training. There are ideas which are good and true and profitable and, conversely, there are ideas which are evil, false and dangerous. Our children, left on their own, will not always – indeed, will rarely – choose the good ideas and reject the bad. We cannot, as the Unschooling movement does [5], trust children to their own devices. (Children in the Bible; Core Knowledge)
  2. Learning continues throughout life . . .  (Teaching in the Old Testament; The Purpose of Education, Part 1)
  3.  . . . But children are particularly in need of instruction.  (Children in the Bible)
  4. Children all complete persons with the same spiritual capacity as adults. Therefore we must not hinder them or deprive them of the things of God.  (Children in the Bible; see also Babies Can Think)
  5. Education is for all people, male and female, those whom society deems exceptional or average or backward. (History of Education: Humanism and the Reformation)

Practical Aspects: The Role of the Teacher:

  1. The attitude and expectations of the teacher can do more to facilitate or to undermine learning than almost anything else he does. A teacher should always expect the most and hope the best. He should expect that God will work in the lives and hearts and minds of his students, whether they are regenerate or not. (A Teacher’s Expectation)
  2. The attitude of the teacher should be one of joy and delight in the things of God because he himself is growing in knowledge and because he believes that they are the things of God and delights in them. (A Teacher’s Attitude; Frank Gaebelein)

Practical Aspects: The Framework:

  1. Proper understanding, in any area, is not possible without a godly framework. (History of Education: Church Fathers; Framework) [6]
  2. The most important thing we can convey to our students is a proper framework in which to understand all that they learn. Other words which might be used to describe this are mindset or worldview. ( Framework; Zylstra on Frameworks)
  3. Our conceptual framework must be biblical.  (Synopses of Short Articles)
  4. Not all non-biblical frameworks are equally wrong. (Synopses of Short Articles)
  5. Even many “Christian” worldviews are either insufficient or unacceptable. We need a distinctly reformed view. (Van Til on Education)
  6. We must be careful that we are not too narrow in our worldview. What we are seeking is something broad and all-encompassing, not a narrow worldview which boils down all of God’s Truth to a few propositions.  (Fesko on Natural Law and Epistemology)

Practical Aspects: What We Learn:

  1. All subjects are the fodder of education and all are under the sovereignty of God. There is no “sacred” and “secular.” (Calvinist Beliefs and Education; CM and the Puritans on Education)
  2. Children should be given a broad education, covering a wide range of subjects. (A Broad EducationCore Knowledge; CM and the Puritans on Education; History of Reformed Education)
  3. It is reasonable and logical to require children to learn certain basic skills. (Core Knowledge)
  4. But we should not deprive young children of real, meaty learning by withholding bigger ideas until later years. Even young children should be put in touch with the things of God. (Core Knowledge)

Practical Aspects: What We Teach & Materials:

  1. There is no culture [7] that has a monopoly on truth or culture. All are fallen. While they may make some contributions, they will also contain error. All should be approached with discernment, accepting the good and rejecting the bad. (Hebraic vs. Hellenistic Education; Revisiting Hebraic vs. Greek Education; Douglas Wilson’s Christian Classical; The Crisis of Western Education; Van Til on Education)
  2. Christians are not called to and should not withdraw from the culture. (Synopses of Short Articles; Frank Gaebelein)
  3. We can and should use non-Christian books and resources . . .  (In Defense of Truth and Beauty; Zylstra on the Love of Literature)
  4. But we should also expect more truth to come to us through Christian sources. (Christianity, Science and Truth)
  5. We must not rob children of the inherent delight and interest they should have in the things of God by making education boring . . . (The Christian Home-School)
  6.  . . . But neither should we try to dress up the things of God to make entertainment for children. (Interesting but not Entertaining)
  7. Language is inherent to how humans communicate and therefore learn. Narrative is a powerful medium and is a primary means used by God Himself to communicate with His people (Language; Literature; The Power of Narrative)
  8. Words, and particularly books, should be the backbone of our approach to education. (Living Books and the Living Word; also The Power of Narrative; Should We Use Textbooks)
  9. Most human knowledge is communicated from mind to mind therefore we should choose our teachers well. (Two Views of the Teacher; See Pick Your Teachers Well for tips on how to do so)
  10. So too we must pick our books well. Our goal should be to use “living books.” Living books are written by people who love their subject matter and know it well.  (See Living Books and the Living Word for more criteria for discerning living books; also The Power of Narrative; Should We Use Textbooks; Literature)
  11. Because one is unlikely to succeed when he expects to fail, we should use discernment in how we set the bar for children. On one hand, we should not provoke them to despair with things that are too far beyond them or which generate repeated failure. On the other hand, education is work and it is through our trials that character is built. The best image I can think of is one of stretching, providing work which does not break but constantly requires more of the child. (The Making and the Unmaking of a Dullard; Frank Gaebelein; The Tech-Wise Family)
  12. Because man is both spirit and body, education should also involve the physical. This “hands-on” side of education should not involve merely physical action but should seek to employ the body in ways which also engage the mind. The ideal is not what we today call “physical education” but a kind of hands-on, technical, educated craftsmanship.   (Whitehead Follow-Up)

Practical Aspects: Learning Outcomes & Testing:

  1. The Fall has corrupted man’s relationship with work. Education, as the work of the child, will at times be frustrating and fruitless. Nonetheless, we are called to persevere and, by God’s grace, we are also able to see fruit and to rejoice in the work we are given. (Whitehead Follow-Up)
  2. Each person is a unique individual and we must not expect that all will learn the same things. Since learning ultimately points us to an infinite God, there is no end to what can be learned. No one can learn everything and we should not expect everyone to learn the same things.  (Core Knowledge)
  3. In evaluating children and measuring what they have learned, we should be wary of provoking them unnecessarily with tedious exercises which are for our benefit, not theirs. (Synthesizing Ideas; Motivating Students)
  4. Because each child is a unique individual and because education is ultimately the work of God in his life, even when presented with the same materials, we should not expect every child to glean the same knowledge.  (Synthesizing Ideas; see also The History of Worksheets)
  5. Narration — telling back in one’s own words — is highly recommended as a way for children to synthesize and reproduce what they have learned. This is because it: a) allows each child to express what they have learned rather than being required to reproduce a set body of facts determined by the teacher; b) makes use of a capacity (retelling what they have learned or done) which is inherent to children; and c) reflects the biblical practice of retelling events as a way of both teaching the next generation and of expressing thanks.  (Synthesizing Ideas; Motivating StudentsThe Tech-Wise Family)
  6. There are subjects and times when more standardized forms of evaluation and reproduction are warranted. Narration must not become an excuse for complete subjectivity.  (Synthesizing Ideas)
  7. We must be careful in teaching that out methods do not tend to substitute lesser, immediate goals (the obtaining of small prizes, pleasing one’s teacher) for the larger, more primary goal of building the child’s character and furthering his desire for knowledge, which is of God. (Motivating Students)

Practical Aspects: On Schooling:

  1. There are three God-given institutions: the Church, the Government, and the Family. (History of Education: Biblical Times; Church, State . . . and School?)
  2. The school is not a God-given institution. (Church, State . . . and School?; Lockerbie on Schools)
  3. Parents have primary responsibility for the education of their children. (Church, State, and School)
  4. It is not wrong for parents to use other resources in educating their children, but they cannot cede their God-given authority in this area.  (Church, State, and School)
  5. The Church should support and encourage parents in educating their children. (History of Reformed Education)
  6. Parents who do not feel able to educate their children should seek to “qualify themselves to the task” as best they can (Erasmus, History of Education: Humanism and the Reformation)
  7. If parents use other teachers or outsource aspects of their child’s education, they should remain intimately involved in their children’s education. (History of Education: Humanism and the Reformation) [8]
  8. In the ideal society, the State supports the work of the Church. Modern American society is not ideal.  (Synopses of Short Articles)
  9. The basis of thought in the public schools is not and cannot be neutral. Neutrality does not exist. (History of Education: the 1800s)
  10. State-supported education will have state-ordained goals. (The Crisis of Western Education)
  11. It is impossible to confine public education to academic spheres. Education is inherently intrusive and naturally draws in other parts of the person and other aspects of life.  (Public Education in America)
  12. Modern American public schools are based on ideas which arise out of an ungodly, evolutionary mindset. (John Dewey, Evolution and Socialization; Evolution is a Mindset; Education and the Source of Evil)
  13. Education in our public schools today has a fragmentary effect — it fragments knowledge into discrete subjects and it fragments people from each other and from other communities. (Public Education in America)
  14. Every school, every curriculum, every approach to education rests on certain underlying philosophical and/or theological principles. Each one makes assumptions about man and his nature. Parents should therefore be discerning, whatever method they choose. (Implementing a Christian Education)
  15. We live in an imperfect world and we are imperfect people. There is not going to be any perfect education choice; each will have pros and cons. Whatever choice they make for their children, parents should stay involved and make the best of the situation they have. (The Christian Home-School; see Implementing a Christian Education for ideas on how to do so)

[1] Many of the points in this section were given previously in this earlier post.

[2]  Of course, believing parents will also teach their children the Scriptures, but the bulk of what we teach falls under the heading of God’s General Revelation.

[3] Augustine called Christ the magister interior, the inward teacher.

[4] This post on goal and purposes also explains the points in this section. 

[5] For some background on Unschooling, see this post and this one.

[6] Augustine said credo ut intelligum, “I believe in order that I may understand,” which is to say that true understanding is only possible through faith. 

[7] The only possible exception would be Old Testament Israel, though in practice more often than not they did not follow the rules and customs God gave them. 

[8]  Erasmus says they should visit the schoolroom often.

— Nebby