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Classical Education as Freedom from Modern Malaise

Theological retrieval and true formation

Perhaps the intended solutions are causing the problems.

When it comes to educational models opinions are far from monolithic, as some of us might extol popular educational methods while others have grown disillusioned with the current system. Indeed, instead of working for change, some skeptics have grown so tired that they would rather tear schools down than build them. Not all parents, students, and teachers feel this pessimism, of course, but even those of us involved with academia to various degrees must ask ourselves difficult questions. It seems fair to think about our current anthropological state in light of our most popular educational models. As modern man seemingly moves away from true humanity, marching either toward mechanization or animalism, we must at least ask if our current educational efforts are setting us out on this anthropological decline in the first place.

Furthermore, perhaps we need not choose between carrying on our current path or destroying the successful roads we’ve built along the way. We acknowledge that a problem exists, but we can easily convince ourselves that the solution is a new educational movement rather than an old one. As we are prone to do, we look forward instead of back. Yet, as Lewis taught us, “A sum can be put right: but only by going back till you find the error and working it afresh from that point, never by simply going on.” Instead of moving forward, it is high time we walked backwards and corrected our accounting error. It’s time we consider the possibility that the modern educational format might not only be incapable of curing our modern malaise but a chief contributor to it. The medicine might be making us sick.

There are a diversity of educational methods, models, and maneuvers, so I want to avoid painting with too broad of a brush (although I hope that my readers will grant me grace when I fail). The contemporary educational models which I would like to warn against are those which separate “fact” from ethics and discount non-materialistic questions. These secular models are limited by the scope of modern materialism and leave questions regarding spirituality and ultimate meaning to the students’ preferences. Only that which can be weighed, measured, and replicated is taught with confidence, while all metaphysical claims are seen as remnants of a bygone era – best ignored if not belittled. Classical education, on the other hand, holds an unwavering eye on human virtue, the transcendentals, and that which is ultimately real. There are, of course, excellent teachers and administrators within non-classical schools that are still directing their students to the good, the true, and the beautiful, and for that they should be commended. Some of these exemplary educators, however, are operating within a system opposed to their efforts – they are small safe-houses of reality hidden throughout an imaginary world. State-sponsored public schools simply do not, indeed cannot, convey the world as it is without facing significant risk. The world depicted by contemporary secular education is one only designed for machines and beasts, so it is no wonder humans do not feel at home within its borders. Classical education aims to draw in color, exposing students to the material structure of reality while also supplying the value embedded in the cosmos – the good, the true, and the beautiful. Click To Tweet

Part of the theological retrieval movement’s merit stems from the need of seeing our modern circumstances with clear eyes. We must identify those assumptions we hold that would have been foreign to the vast majority of Christians throughout the Church’s history. If we never take time to rediscover the great works of the past, then we risk straying off the path blazed before us, either walking into the wilderness or needlessly retracing old steps. The need for heeding the words of the past, however, is not limited to theological endeavors. The popular narrative may make it seem that we have outgrown our ancient friends, as if our modern understanding of the world negates any benefit that could theoretically be gained from looking backwards. Our old friend Lewis, a man out of time in some respects, can again be helpful: “It is a good rule after reading a new book, never to allow yourself another new one till you have read an old one in between.” A holistic education will necessarily take account of all truth, both modern and ancient, but the existence of one does not negate the other. 21st century science separated from the seven liberal arts or the classical virtues is incomplete and ultimately devastating. Reading old books need not require ignorance of new books but will, instead, provide us with a framework for interpreting the new. As Socrates said in Plato’s Republic, “I enjoy talking with the very old, for we should ask them, as we might ask those who have travelled a road that we too will probably have to follow, what kind of road it is, whether rough and difficult or smooth and easy.”

We cannot be satisfied with rearing Philosopher Kings, letting the handmaiden wear the crown, for we need Theologian Kings, Saint Kings, who are committed to living Coram Deo. Click To TweetThe world portrayed by modern secular education alone is an incomplete one, a drawing from a memory slowly fading over time. While the best drawings or works of art can adequately portray truth, the reality on which the art is based will always surpass it. Lewis discusses this concept in his essay on “Transposition.” Lewis shares a story in which a mother and son are stuck in a dungeon. To provide inspiration and joy for her child the mother draws illustrations of the outside world, until she realizes her son has misunderstood a key idea. “’But,’ she gasps, ‘you didn’t think that the real world was full of lines drawn in lead pencil?’ ‘What?’ says the boy. ‘No pencil marks there?’” This realization makes the young boy question the structure of reality. The problem may cause the boy to “get the idea that the real world is somehow less visible than his mother’s pictures. In reality it lacks lines because it is incomparably more visible.” Lewis then compares the difference between the lower and higher worlds “not as a candle flame that is put out but as a candle flame which becomes invisible because someone has pulled up the blind, thrown open the shutters, and let in the blaze of the risen sun.”

Lewis, of course, is making a grander comparison than two models within the physical world. The point of the illustration, however, remains. An education that only points students to the pencil lines leaves them ill equipped to appreciate the colors of the evening sky. Classical education aims to draw in color, exposing students to the material structure of reality while also supplying the value embedded in the cosmos – the good, the true, and the beautiful. Crafting students who not only know truth but love truth and live in light of truth is the end goal. These students know that the colors exists, but they can also contribute to the color of reality, calling others to grab a brush.

Classical education is, of course, Platonic, at least to an extent. The seven liberal arts on which classical education is grounded are found in Plato’s Republic – Grammar, Logic, Rhetoric, Astronomy, Arithmetic, Geometry, and Music. It was these that the Philosopher Kings should dedicate themselves to in study. Furthermore, Plato pointed people beyond the material to the Forms, those Ideas that transcended the material realm and provided meaning for creation. Perhaps, then, it’s not surprising that Lewis’s professor Kirke recited, “It’s all in Plato, all in Plato: Bless me, what do they teach them at these schools?” I commend classical education not because of test scores or curriculum per se, but because the colors of reality are the only cure for the modern malaise. Click To TweetPlato, however, is not enough. Classical education grounded in western philosophy without the Christ behind the Forms is better than many popular contemporary models of education, but it is not good enough. True, Platonism is far superior to many modern and ancient philosophies, and I do not mean to discount truth wherever it may be found. Indeed, even a strictly Platonist view of education will help prepare students to understand the world better than many non-classical models. If reality is the goal, however, then a Christ-less classical education misses the mark just as those Christ-less contemporary models. We cannot be satisfied with rearing Philosopher Kings, letting the handmaiden wear the crown, for we need Theologian Kings, Saint Kings, who are committed to living Coram Deo. This theological component of reality, however, is not opposed to classical education but is a natural fit for the model.

In short, I commend classical education not because of test scores or curriculum per se, but because the colors of reality are the only cure for the modern malaise. Living in black and white long enough will lead anyone to ennui, but we can move beyond the pencil lines. Reclaiming the past, visiting the great books, explaining the world with Christ in the center – these are not idealistic goals but are the basis for true education, true formation. When children are educated, they are formed, and there is no separating the two (hence the word in-form-ation). Students will either be formed to fit in the colorful world as it truly exists or in a black and white mechanized world that will fade away just as quickly as it was invented. We do not commit ourselves to classical education because of the challenge or the supposed “safety” of like-mindedness, but rather take the clearest route available to pursue the good, the true, and the beautiful. Let us push our future Saintly Kings to live and learn in color.


Photo credit: Rosa Stone

Timothy Gatewood

Timothy Gatewood is an adjunct professor for Midwestern Baptist Theological Seminary where he teaches courses in theology, philosophy, history, and Christian political thought. He serves as the executive editor of Credo Magazine and the associate director of the Center for Classical Theology. Timothy is the author of Truth Not Served By Human Hands (Christian Focus, forthcoming), and his work has been featured in The Lost Sermons of C.H. Spurgeon, the Midwestern Journal of Theology, Didaktikos Journal, and before the Evangelical Theological Society.

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