Education as Formation
Truth, Goodness, & Beauty
Truth, goodness, and beauty come from God and they point back to Him. In fact, God is Truth; God is Goodness; and God is Beauty itself. Which means that when we delight in the intricate design of God’s world, are moved by the sacrifice of a literary hero, or hear a beautiful piece of music, we are encountering a little glimpse of God.
But the reality is that sometimes people hate the truth and mock the meek and the righteous. Like God Himself, the fact that something is good, true, and beautiful does not necessarily mean it will be appreciated and embraced. As Christ taught of Himself, though “the light has come into the world, [yet] men loved darkness rather than light” (John 3:19). In fact, great truths and goodness are often difficult for us to like and to receive because they demand much of us—even if that demand, in reality, is only the demand to humble ourselves before their abundance and give them our attention.
Classical education requires students to grapple with and invites them to begin to delight in these higher—if also more difficult—things. Because if we can humble ourselves and attend to truth, goodness, and beauty that is far beyond our own, we will hear the call to aspire toward such heights. We can glimpse in the truths of the Apostle Paul or of Aristotle the very wisdom and goodness of God. We can stand in awe of beauties that remind us of all life can be: all that it was made to be, and one day will be. We can see men and women whose devotion to truth and whose goodness call us forth into more noble and faithful lives—lives that, like all goodness, truth, and beauty, point to and reflect the God for whom and by whom they were made. And so:
“Whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praiseworthy—meditate on these things.” – Philippians 4:8
Christ on the Cross Adored by Fra Angelico (15th century)
The Great Tradition
We are the inheritors of a great tradition of ideas, books, and art passed down by generations before us. Of course, the past isn’t magical and something isn’t great simply by virtue of being old. Rather, the things we call “classical” are those that have lasted, which have stood the test of time. And that is a remarkable thing! After all, time devours everything. Time devours fashions, political movements, and the latest technology. Time devours buildings, landscapes, and entire nations; and, in the end, time devours the lives of each and every one of us. Time marches on and lays waste everything in its wake—except, every now and then, when it doesn’t.
Every now and then, a piece of music, a book, an idea or a practice or the life of a great man or woman survives the ravages of time. Generations later, time has moved on and yet they remain. Why? Because they have tapped so deeply into something enduring. They have attested to eternal truths in such a way that, in something of a mystery and almost a miracle, they themselves become timeless, almost eternal. They last because generation after generation has testified to and been shaped by their great worth. So let it be with our students.
If we want our students to live faithfully—to become better fathers and mothers, to navigate the temptations of the world, and on and on—what can we give them? When God called Israel to move forward out of their exile and their sin, this was his instruction:
“Stand at the crossroads, and look,
and ask for the ancient paths,
where the good way lies; and walk in it,
and find rest for your souls.”
– Jeremiah 6:16
And so in desiring to be faithful today, we do well to look to the past—to the ancient paths whose worth and goodness and wisdom have been vetted by the generations who have gone before us.
Aristotle Contemplating a Bust of Homer by Rembrandt (17th century)
Christian Character & Virtue
Education is not only about what our students learn but also, and more importantly, who they will become. Far more than training for a career, true education is about training for a life well-lived—and a life well-lived is a virtuous life, learning both to love and to choose what is truly good. Its aim is not just knowing what is good and right, but actually doing it. Which means that no teacher can simply “teach virtue” in the way you can teach the eight kings of early Rome. Instead, teaching virtue involves showing students characters and men of history—even, Lord willing, teachers—who embody these characteristics, that students might see them as worth emulating. It involves a curriculum that requires and rewards persistent attention and orderly classrooms with practices that reinforce habits of discipline and prayer.
The virtues we seek to cultivate are traditionally divided into two groups: 1) wisdom, justice, courage, and self-control and 2) faith, hope, and love.
The first group are the keys to a stable, flourishing, and admirable life. They are keys to good relationships, good leadership, good character—in short, a good life. These virtues are both exemplified in our curriculum and taught by the very practices of our classroom: learning cursive and remaining in your seat are exercises in self-control; persevering in Latin conjugations is a lesson in courage, as is acting a part in the Robin Hood play; and on and on.
But faith, hope, and love are a bit different. They are necessary for attaining the ultimate purpose of human life: to share in the life of God. Traditionally they’re called the theological virtues, which means two things: 1) They are virtues in that they are necessary for the fullness of a good, happy life; 2) They are theological (divine) in that they only come by the work of God in us. Of course, this means that our school (or any other) cannot impart to a student faith, hope, and love. Rather, what a teacher does is set the stage for an encounter between the student and God in the classroom. A classical Christian school believes that through the story of Jane Eyre or the awe-inspiring order of God’s world, a student can somehow encounter God, come to see a bit more clearly who He is, and so love and entrust himself to God all the more. That, ultimately, is our hope and our prayer, and the reason why we labor.
“Make every effort to supplement your faith with virtue, and virtue with knowledge, and knowledge with self-control, and self-control with steadfastness, and steadfastness with godliness, and godliness with brotherly affection, and brotherly affection with love. For if these qualities are yours and are increasing, they keep you from being ineffective or unfruitful in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ.”
– 2 Peter 1: 5-8
Justice by Raphael (16th century)
