“Mind-blowingly reckless,” the judge remarked, as he issued a fine of £3,000. The crime? Breaching a no-fly zone during an air display at the annual Buxton Town Carnival.
The offending remote-controlled drone came within a whisker of a Hawker Hurricane as the WW2 plane roared past at 230 mph. There would have “without a doubt been fatalities” had they collided.
In a different area of life, a desire to prevent "conversational collision" often creates metaphorical “no-fly zones”. These restrictions designate discussion topics it is acceptable, or not, to stray into. This is even true – at times especially true – among fellow believers. Piloting towards them can seem “mind-blowingly reckless”. Education is one such topic. How does our faith influence how we think about education and schooling? Few issues are as sensitive.
Understandably, we tend to view education through the lens of our own experiences, or options, or choices, and so naturally it all seems painfully personal. It usually seems safer to steer clear. Yet, at the Reframing Education podcast we’re convinced it is a conversation worth having.
Why we should talk about education
In one sense: of course it is. As a society we recognise the need to step thoughtfully towards delicate topics when the flourishing of young people is in view.
Think of the ongoing focus on social media and screen use. How much more ought we be willing to step towards the larger topic of education itself?
Almost 10 million school-aged children in the UK will spend around 16,000 hours each in full-time education. Yet, how do we engage the conversation constructively?
Reframe the conversation
One way we might avoid mid-air collision is to reframe the conversation. It’s remarkably helpful to approach the topic, not, at root, as a discussion about a particular mode of education: whether independent or state or home or faith schooling. But rather, to ask a more fundamental question: what is the purpose of education? What is education for?
I confess, rather shamefacedly, that I had taught for over a decade in both state and independent schools before this question even occurred to me. I have discovered, however, that I am not the only one.
The Reframing Education podcast exists to open up conversation about education among Christian believers. We think these questions matter. We host 30-minute interviews with Christian educators and leaders, from a variety of settings, including state, independent, home and faith schools. We recognise believers will land in various places, so aim to model tact and grace as we encourage distinctively Christian contemplation on the issues involved.
History and theology
What has helped me as I continue to reflect upon education as a Christian? One help has been historical. We are not the first believers to consider these questions. Historical engagement is remarkably illuminating, and frequently surprising. When St Paul's School was founded in 1509, there were to be, specifically and deliberately, 153 scholars, to echo the miracle catch (John 21v11).
When Winchester College began in the 14th century, there was also insistence upon numbers, purposefully pregnant with Christian significance: ten fellows and the Warden (11 apostles, Judas omitted); 16 choristers (four major and 12 minor prophets); 70 scholars and two masters (the 72 disciples). For over four centuries staff and boys gathered daily at that school for a midday meal at which a Psalm would be sung and a chapter of Scripture read. On Sundays, the Headmaster would “for the space of one hour” read to the boys from Proverbs, the Book of Ecclesiastes, and then – it was an hour after all – Proverbs again! Either he, or a deputy, would then teach through a catechism, proving each article from Scripture, and “exercising them therein.”
The distinctively Christian vision of education so often found in our past was no Christian cherry atop a secular cake; rather, Christianity was more like the eggs and sugar – the essential binding agent to hold all other ingredients together, and the sweetener to flavour every bite.
If for me one starting point was historical, another has been theological. Scripture introduces us to “the God who made the world and everything in it” (Acts 17v24). Our triune God has created, ordered and adorned our world – or better, His world – and sustains it moment by moment. That is reality. Most education does not so much deny this truth, as simply ignore it.
We spend tens of thousands of hours learning about history, language, literature, scientific enquiry, economics, geography, morality, mathematics and music, with their connection to Christ entirely and absolutely ignored. Even in most Christian schools this is the case, since the Christian faith often has very little impact within the classroom and upon the curriculum itself. The result is what Professor Craig Gay calls practical atheism: “Stated bluntly, it is the assumption that even if God exists He is largely irrelevant to the real business of life.”
This is one of the most consequential ideas of our secular age: education that assumes God’s existence does not practically matter. We often talk of education as preparing young people for the real world, yet a world without Christ at the centre does not, in fact, exist.
Augustine describes the dreary, washed-out world that is left when leached of the divine: “The knowledge of created things contemplated by themselves is, so to speak, more colourless than when they are seen in the wisdom of God.” To connect all things to Christ is to put the colour back into Creation, and indeed, to education: “Yet, when these works are referred to the praise and adoration of the Creator Himself, it is as if morning dawned in the minds of those who contemplate them.” Imagine an educational world filled with the colours of Christ!
'Changing the landscape'
It is an exciting time for these discussions. The well-known challenges of recent years – including the ethical and the financial – are changing the landscape. People are exploring what might be possible in their area: The Fountain Christian School, a low-cost classical Christian primary, launches in central London in September 2026, aiming to make character-forming, Christ-centred education affordable for ordinary families. The aim is to open a sister school, St Anselm’s, in Cardiff in 2027.
In tertiary education, the inaugural cohort of the newly opened Selden College, Oxford, have completed their first year of a three-year liberal arts Christian curriculum, which endeavours to understand all areas of knowledge in relation to the Triune God who made the world. Believers may land in different places; nonetheless, the questions are crucial for both parents and educators.
Concluding thoughts
Removing the “no-fly zone” around education is intended to encourage conversation; the intention is not to specify a landing spot, but to declare the skies open for discussion.
Where will the conversation take us? In his book Orthodoxy, G. K. Chesterton chuckles at the irony of his attempts to conjure a novel life philosophy of his own imagination, only to discover that the worldview he had “invented” was in essence historic Christianity. “I did try to found a heresy of my own; and when I had put the last touches to it, I discovered that it was orthodoxy.”
I rather suspect that this conversation may prove similar: not taking us somewhere new, but rather returning us to something old. As Chesterton discovered: “I tried to be some ten minutes in advance of the truth. And I found that I was 1,800 years behind it.”
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