There has been much talk in the media recently about the ‘green shoots of recovery’ (real or imagined), but also of the role education might play in driving the country out of recession.
It’s fashionable to suggest that there needs to be an increased emphasis on vocational routes to individual career choices — on education serving the economy. I would argue, however, that this reflects a philosophy which involves ‘putting the cart before the horse’ (heretical as that may sound in the current climate), and that a distinctively Christian vision of what education is, and what it is for, offers a far better hope of a well-educated and effective workforce than its secular equivalent.
Degraded education
‘Seek ye first’, as C.S. Lewis observed, operates as a kind of spiritual law in the universe. Aim at heaven, and you’ll get earth thrown in. Aim at earth, and you’ll get neither.
In the same way, I think the increasing view in secular circles of education as a tool of the economy degrades education, and actually results in young people less well-equipped for the demands of the workplace. The new Diploma qualifications are the latest (I think ill-conceived) initiative in this direction, in a long line of ideological tinkering with the curriculum.
In my experience, what employers want (whether they are small businesses or major firms) are young people who are numerate, literate, and have the character to cope with rapidly changing demands — adaptability, maturity, and common sense. What teachers want is the opportunity to exercise their vocation — to inspire young people in the subjects which inspire them, without an endless sea of new initiatives, bureaucracy, and changing agendas. Statistics say all sorts of things, but the evidence seems to me that we are serving neither the economy nor education by making the latter a servant of the former. As a Christian educator, I think education as an end in itself, within a Christian worldview, is paradoxically a far better approach.
Christian distinctives
So what is distinctive about education in a Christian context? Well, for a start, it offers a basis for the whole enterprise. Discovering and delighting in the creation of a God in whose image we are made, and learning more about him through doing so, is at the heart of a Christian understanding of learning — Dominus illuminatio mea, as the motto of Oxford University has it. ‘How on earth can you be an atheist and a scientist?’ I have often asked my pupils, with the goal of provoking and stimulating debate (it works!) — but there is a serious point.
Never mind the protestations of Dawkins et al — science requires a prior faith in a rational, regular universe, and, indeed, in the validity of our own reasoning. As writers like John Lennox have observed, it is hard to make sense of this from a materialistic viewpoint. To quote Lewis again: ‘Men become scientific because they expected law in nature, and they expected law in nature because they believed in a lawgiver’.
Humanities
I think it is no less true where the humanities are concerned. The old interview chestnut for prospective English undergraduates used to be something like, ‘Why should taxpayers fund you to read poems for three years?’ These days, of course, you have to incur a large debt to study any subject, but, even so, it’s hard to answer that question without a vision of our humanity which values its dignity for its own sake. The worldview within which we learn makes a tremendous difference to what, and especially how we learn, and it’s a dangerous mistake to think that we can approach education from a value-neutral point of view.
Some would have us believe that human beings are nothing more than selfish gene-bearing robots, but, if that is true, it has implications. I love the Steve Turner poem, ‘The Conclusion’:
My love, she said, when all’s considered, we’re only machines.
I chained her to my bedroom wall for future use, and she cried.
In two pithy lines it manages to express the emptiness and danger of materialistic philosophy, and point to our true nature as creatures made for meaning, purpose and relationship — again, hard to sustain without a belief that we are made in the image of God.
Building character
In addition to the curriculum, I think that a distinctively Christian education offers resources for building character which a pluralistic or secular approach lacks. On my first day at a former school, where I was chaplain, a grizzled classics teacher approached to say, ‘Well, vicar, you should know I’m an atheist, but I’m broadly in favour of chapel, because if we didn’t have chapel, we’d have to sit through some ghastly citizenship address!’
A pluralistic approach might suggest that faith and belief are really a private affair, and attempt (I think) to impose a veneer of conformity, without ever really engaging with issues of worldview and belief among its pupils. Again, paradoxically, I think a Christian school offers a far better basis for learning real tolerance. A school that is clear about what it believes, but welcomes pupils regardless of their beliefs, and allows them the space to develop their own opinions in courteous debate, makes possible an atmosphere of real disagreement, real grace and, ultimately, one hopes, real respect. And isn’t it interesting how very attractive Christian schools which are clear about their foundation and moral values are to those outside the faith?
For all its detractors, the ‘muscular Christianity’ of the Victorian public schools (and it certainly had its faults) at least laid a foundation for understanding education as being about the whole person. The formation of character and virtue is a legacy which still distinguishes British education from continental counterparts, and makes private education here a market leader in the global economy. The Victorian Christians placed great store on service and humility, and, crucially, here again, a Christian education has resources to combat both a false political correctness and unbridled elitism. To go back a little further, the Puritan William Law bewailed the ‘modern education’ of his day: ‘The first temper that we try to awaken in children, is pride… Whatever way of life we intend them for, we apply to the fire and vanity of their minds, and exhort them to everything from corrupt motives. We stir them up to action from principles of strife and ambition, from glory, envy, and a desire of distinction, that they may excel others, and shine in the eyes of the world’.
I think it is very hard to deny that there has been a ‘dumbing down’ of educational standards in recent decades, perhaps motivated by an ideology which is uncomfortable with pupils of very different abilities (encouraging ‘parity of esteem’, as Uncle Screwtape would have it). I think that those who are gifted should be pushed, that excellence should be celebrated and encouraged, and that resources should be directed accordingly. As Law warns us, however, this should not lead us to foster a culture of exam snobbery or one-upmanship, but rather an understanding that ‘to those whom much is given, much is expected’, and a delight in learning not primarily for the rewards it might offer materially, or in terms of letters after one’s name, but for its own sake.
Firm yet welcoming
For a Christian, all truth is God’s truth, and Jesus is the incarnation of truth. For a Christian educator, learning has to take place in the context of that understanding and that worldview if it is to have any credibility or integrity. What it means for me is that Christian schools should be as Jesus was and is — firm in their convictions about truth, yet welcoming to all, regardless of their convictions. At their best, they encourage clear thinking, respect, a moral compass, tolerance, and a passion for learning. In the society in which we live, I think they are increasingly important beacons of truth, and of a vision of education that our country needs to recapture.
Nick Seward