Time Flat Wasted

If there were a winner for the most frequent comment made by the general public about education, it might be this:

 "I got my degree in X, but I haven't once used it since."

And then we nod and bemoan what's wrong with education to bring so many people to that pass, though we never really pinpoint the cause.

There's a cause, all right, and it's unfortunate, but not in the way we might think.

The problem with a statement like this is that it turns education into an object.  Education is meant to be used (and used up).  A degree is pursued as a means only.  What can it give me?  When life gives me a lemon, I squeeze it dead. We want to shape and manipulate our education, for the express purpose of monetarily benefiting from it, and if we aren't able to do that, it's basically time flat wasted.

But an education is supposed to shape us.  It is supposed to transform us into givers, thinkers, and influencers-of-culture.  Far from being a limited set of necessary tools for a limited set of necessary evils, education -- including our specific professional degrees -- gives what is intangible, but what is also universally powerful.  And that is an ability to be thankful for our rich heritage of knowledge, perceptive of what needs to be done in the world, well-equipped for those tasks, and brave to jump in the trenches and do them.

Trivium: Rhetoric

Over the past few weeks, we've had a closer look at the classical trivium.  Yesterday, you may have seen Kaylyn Wilson's overview here, and I've also mentioned some specifics of the Grammar Stage here and of the Logic Stage here.  What could possibly come next?

Why, just so.  The Rhetoric Stage.

The Rhetoric Stage is the capstone of the trivium.  It is the telos of all prior years of study since Preschool, the goal, the crown and glory of the whole classical-ed show.  Until this stage is reached, the Grammar and Logic stages are only incomplete preparation -- valuable in their own right, but weakened and compromised without unification.  Rhetoric is a queen with her crown, the picture of unity, strength, and power.

Rhetoric brings true beauty to knowledge.  And so rhetoric is wisdom adorned.  Far from the byword it is today -- "That's just a buncha rhetoric . . ." -- this stage fixes all knowledge to the standard of God's beauty, and it speaks like he speaks.  It writes like he writes, creates like he creates, and loves like he loves.  Unless that universal model of beauty is learned, what might happen to knowledge?  To a disconnected Grammar and Logic?

Many things, from the silly to the tragic.  Sans beauty, brilliantly-educated minds give soporific speeches via monotone PowerPoint.  Those that conceived the great cathedrals are gone, and "the architecture of servitude and boredom" (as Russell Kirk once said) produce industrial slums.  The "suicide art" of Jackson Pollock and the irreverent and nihilistic "Piss Christ" of Andres Serrano are hailed as masterpieces.  The ruling elite see the stunning magic of the infant human form as inventory to be chopped up and sold to the highest bidder.  And if there is no beauty, no standard for loveliness, who are we to object?  Let our children use their classically-educated minds to find their own truth.

But the earth is full of God's glory, and it is crying unending praise to the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.  What is all our knowledge and logic without the living Word?  What is beauty without the Glory of Christ?  What is love without incarnate Love?  We lay all our learning at His feet -- from Grammar to Logic to Rhetoric and beyond -- in recognition that He is the author and finisher of all.

Trivium: The Logic Stage

Last week, I mentioned one of the beauties of the Grammar Stage, which is the ability young kids have to devour information.  So we let them.  We give it to them.  We pack them full of good things.

Once they reach the Logic Phase (5th - 8th grades), however, they're ready for more.  They've naturally, by God's good design, begun to question things and to consider, much more intelligently, what's right and what's wrong.  And usually, they think that they are right, and everyone else is wrong, and they don't mind telling you why.  You could also call the Logic Phase the "Catch-You-Out-and-Smirk-About-It" phase.

While this developmental stage can be quite annoying, it's also normal, and very important.  Children at this stage have just begun to debate issues, and to say what they think, and if they do not know the rules involved, things can get troublesome, and disastrous later on.  They need tools to know how to think, and how to structure their thoughts.  They need to know why a belief is wrong, not just the fact that it's wrong.  And they need to know where love fits into the equation.

So how does this work for us at home?  Just like we load on the information for our Grammar-Phase students, we load on the arguments for our Logic-Phasers.  We don't discourage them from arguing; we encourage them, but using the right tools.  And one of the first tools of argument for kids to learn is to obey authority right away without delay.  We are all under authority (even parents), and this truth is the foundation to all logic exercises. There is no argument, just obedience.  Otherwise, we are teaching them anarchist autonomy.  Another tool is to learn to question and criticize at times that are not connected to obedience or rebellion.  For instance, it isn't a good time for your son Bobby "The Bullhead" to suddenly get interested in arguments for or against corporal discipline in the home at just the moment when he's gotten caught telling a whopper.  It is a good time to discuss those issues with him when you're watching the news together, and a story is aired about school violence.

But perhaps the most important tool of logic, behind them all, to learn is how certain arguments aren't meant to be "won."  The point is to win hearts and souls.  Or in other words, to learn that there is a deeper right than being right.  Which is great preparation for the beauty of the final Trivium phase: Rhetoric.

Trivium: The Grammar Stage at Home

One of the beauties of the Grammar Stage of the Trivium is that you can essentially upload information onto your kids' hard drive. Select a file, choose a destination folder, and click OK. Their super-powered child-brain will process all relevant data with remarkable ease.

Now lest someone claim that Augustine Classical Academy believes that children are cyborgs, let me officially say that this is a metaphor. Children are definitely human, delightfully so, but we still admire how they can soak up information like a machine. (See, now I'm mixing a metaphor.)

What does this mean for us as parents? Because God created young children in this stage with a special taste for information, we should give it to them. Better phrased, we should serve it up for them by the forklift-pallet. No holding back. On a daily basis, we should be giving them stories, stories, and more stories. We should give them music, audiobooks, coloring books, castle cut-outs, dates, flags, capitals, countries, presidents, constellation charts, historical character sketches, myths and legends, math facts, bug collections, ant farms, stamp collections, and flower presses. This is their brain-food, and they need lots of it to survive.

But there's an important key. We can't overthink it.

Here's how. First, while routines are important for kids, a proper education in the Grammar Phase, particularly at home, is an immersion. Anytime, anywhere, for however long or short a period. The Information-Feasts are organic, part of the natural aroma of your home. More often than not, music is playing in the background -- so what if nobody is "listening"? Your dinner table is constantly a mess because of all the coloring, crafts, and model-building. Books are everywhere, and falling apart, because your kids are constantly reading them. Your home and your activities are not always organized, not by a long shot -- but they are always rich and constant.

Second, don't worry about explaining everything to kids at this stage. While good, honest questions should be answered as best we can, we shouldn't take it upon ourselves to explain too much. For instance, when we teach our 5-year-olds about Columbus, we might chant, "In fourteen hundred and ninety-two, Columbus sailed the ocean blue." But it wouldn't be very smart to begin a lecture on Columbus' mistreatment of the Native Americans and how his legacy has influenced race relations today. Perhaps a valid point, but not for the poor kid, not now. You've only confused him, and now he can't remember the rhyme.

"The world is so full of a number of things, I'm sure we should all be as happy as kings." Well, young children are, and the Grammar Phase is a wonderful period. Done right, with shared educational strategies between school and home, our students will be well-equipped for their next tool-in-the-belt, their next Stage: reason.

A Long Obedience in the Same Direction

Back in my cross-country coaching days, I liked to tell the joke about how, while most people say, "Time heals all wounds," runners say, "Time wounds all heels."

So there's that.  But my real point is that it seems reasonable to divide people into a couple basic categories: those who ripen with time and change (usually gathering wisdom), and those who wither and dry up as time goes on (usually turning into cynics).  Can we apply this to education?  And how!

Put another way, I like to beat dead horses (metaphorically), and my current dead horse is this: life is full of rich change, also known as sanctification, and it's one of our biggest jobs as parents and educators to fill our kids to bursting with the joy of it.  I've said this several times and in several ways last year, and I don't want us to forget it as we enter each new school year: despite the reality of God-given trials, life is glorious, life is rich, and that's why we send our kids to school.  We want them to love God's world so that they can transform God's world.  Not wither up, or be chronically heel-wounded.

Consider this a hearty welcome to the school season.  As you hustle through uniform options, supplies purchases, and transportation arrangements, let's remember why we're here.  For our kids.  For "a long obedience in the same direction," and for teaching them the rewards of hard work and cheerfulness.

Hearty blessings on your year ahead, and may we faithfully encourage our children to strive for excellence as they live for the glory of God and the good of all people.

Grace and Peace, Nate Ahern

Celebration Days

Friendly question: What does Proverbs 22:6 have to do with racing bikes and hopping around in colored sacks?

Friendly answer: Everything.

This morning at our Bandana Dash and Field Day, I was blessed to witness one of the lesser-emphasized applications of a great truth: "Train up a child in the way he should go; even when he is old he will not depart from it" (Prov. 22:6).  Though no lectures were given, no Scripture verses recited, no quizzes administered, our students were "trained up" with joy and festivity today. As all those bright-eyed children hoofed it around the lake (careening bikes on their heels), as the field events put flush into cheeks and sweat on brows, and as parents, teachers, and older students came together with their time, money, and service, those two things stood front-and-center above all else: joy and festivity.

It's the way God does things.  He didn't just administer the Law; he also gave us days for celebration (Lev. 23; Is. 25:6). He wants us to be sober-minded (1 Peter 5:8), but he also gives us the wine of gladness (Eccl. 9:7; Is. 25:6). And perhaps above all, he desires mercy and love, not sacrifice (Hosea 6:6).

Today, our students tasted and saw that Gospel life is good. As a parent, I'm grateful to each of you for a school family that shows our children love, sacrificial energy, and blessings abounding.  Thank you for continuing to make ACA such a wonderful place.

Grace and Peace, Nate Ahern

Hard Work and Dessert

As some of you know, Augustine Classical Preschool students have been learning about teeth and dentists this week.  Clyde, my three-year-old son, has taken to the subject admirably.

"This is junk food," he says contentedly, taking great bites out of a lollipop.

We teach our children the important habit of brushing their teeth regularly (circular motion, please), but at the same time it's a rare child who never has sweets.  That's because candy isn't exactly junk.  Used reasonably, it's more accurately a treat -- a gift -- for the special moments.  Sometimes, we tend to think of certain foods as "bad" (naughty food! moral failure!) and so campaigns are launched to kill them dead and blot their names from the Book of Life.  But "the earth is the Lord's, and the fullness thereof" (Ps. 24:1), and "for everything there is a season" (Eccl. 3:1).  We taste and see that the Lord is good, usually with the spinach, potatoes, and chicken, but sometimes with the sundaes.

Think of education the same way.  We don't ever want to use education to stomp students flat, as though they are insects to kill, and Scripture agrees: "You shall not boil a young goat in its mother's milk" (Deut. 14:21).  Education is food, not a cauldron.  It has life-giving beauty and should not be used as an instrument of death (like in a Dickens novel).  So education both in the classroom and at home needs an occasional dessert.

But this is a tough balance, and many schools with great mission statements serve up lamesauce standards in the actual classroom.  And in the home, some students do nothing but hammer the video games (after homework, of course), or perhaps worse, have no honest notion how to spend after-school time except by surfing their smartphones.  Bad, naughty video games?  Satan-spawned social media?  No, just too much dessert.

The good things of life are hard to master.  Great books, mathematics and science, logic, high music, abstract thinking, age-old stories -- these are the deep-magic gifts of God.  With faithful training comes love, and with love comes an appreciation of gifts in their unique places.  So have a lollipop.

Grace and Peace, Nate Ahern

Glutted with Knowledge and Wisdom

Earlier this week on our Twitter and Facebook, you may have come across this quote from Dwight Moody:

"So few grow, because so few study."

Today, many of us operate under the unchallenged assumption that learning and study end after college or graduate school.  And understandably, too: there are jobs to get and keep, families to manage, community groups to run, and sports programs to plug into.  And then, in the precious, exhausting moments at the end of the day, we must give quality time to our smartphones.

Tongue-in-cheek.  (A little.)  But Moody was speaking to us as time-frazzled, modern-day adults, not to our children, and not to an idyllic, unhurried people of the past.  He understood that one of the key purposes of education is to become life-long learners, to be parents and citizens who have both the ability and interest to self-teach.  He understood that without this life-long learning, we will not grow.  And as we hopefully learned from Biology class, if you're not a growing organism, you're a dead one.

Mental and moral growth requires study and learning, entirely distinct from our day jobs, separate from our child-rearing.  Sacrifice is required. But if we claim (and we do) that art, beauty, and the enjoyment of God are at the center of existence, and if we claim (and we do) that high grades, the Ivy league, and fast-lane jobs are not the first reasons we educate our children, then these claims have to come out our fingertips.  Vision must become tangible mission.  We want our children to study and grow -- but are we content to land our jobs and coast to retirement ourselves?  As Malcolm Muggeridge once said, "Only dead fish swim with the current."

Let's continue to show our kids how to learn -- and not just because it will benefit them.  We all have a duty to glorify God and enjoy him forever, and true enjoyment takes focus.  Let's commit to steeping ourselves in the stories of the Old and New Testaments, to exploring the great books we've never read (and which make little sense to us at first), and to engaging in the cultural conversation of ideas.  Our children are watching us, watching whether we practice what we preach.  But we should also watch ourselves.  May we always be interested, bright-eyed Christians, glutted with knowledge and wisdom for God's glory.  May we work tangibly to bring Christ's kingdom to earth, and may we always be able to "taste and see that the Lord is good" (Ps. 34:8).

Grace and Peace, Nate Ahern

Spring Break and Recess Metaphors

One of the main points of life is Recess.  God loves taking breaks, and he loves ordaining times of rest.  God created us to work, but he also made us to work toward something, and that is the establishment of a New Heavens and a New Earth -- Christ's kingdom on earth.  In other words, rest.  Even in that new kingdom there will be work, but rest will be at its center.

Recess metaphors are pervasive in scripture.  During the conquest of Canaan, Joshua and the Israelites rested in the 7th year from their battles (Josh. 11:23), God ordained rest for the land every 7th year (Lev. 25:4), we devote the first day of every week (originally the 7th day) for rest and worship, and during the creation week, God himself rested on the 7th day (Gen. 2:2).

As Spring Break 2015 comes to a close, may we fully enjoy our remaining time with our families, knowing that rest is a good and necessary gift from God.  And as we do, may we be strengthened for an energetic and productive close to the school year.  God continues to be good to us.

Grace and Peace, Nate Ahern

Getting it Done

One of the great historical problems of humanity is the gulf between what's "true" in theory and what's done in practice.  It has made the philosopher's pen run dry, the pastor's heart ache, and the parent's resolve waver and crack.  We believe and proclaim -- and then we act in an entirely different way.

Sometimes, this is because we've been silly and run the numbers wrong.  For example, many a long-haired, grass-smoking philosophy major has revolutionary ideas about how moral absolutes are antiquated -- but then he never seems to be able to take someone's wallet without spending the night in jail. At other times, the gulf between belief and practice is due to our laziness as fallen man.  As the old Book of Common Prayer puts it, "We have done those things which we ought not to have done, and we have left undone those things which we ought to have done."  We just don't have the resolve to stay in the trenches day after day.  Doing the right thing is hard.

Transfer this idea into the sphere of classical education.  At ACA, we have high standards for educational method and curriculum content.  We believe that students should work hard, that teachers should be exacting (and of course loving), and that our curriculum should be devoid of drivel, rich in the high mountain air of Western ideas.

But unless those ideas become flesh, everything ACA stands for is worthless.  Unless teachers consistently give bad grades when needed (in addition to the good ones) and are strict with their students (in addition to being loving), there will be no progress.  Unless parents sit down with their children every day for a time of reading, quality discussion, or Bible study, the best classical Christian education possible will fail to get through.

As parents and teachers, we need an every-day faith.  An every-single-day faith for the tough journey we're taking with our children.  The vision of classical and Christian education is glorious, yes.  But getting it done is all about grit, determination, and no-breaks-allowed commitment.

Funny thing is, that's just how our Christian walk should be -- and just how God likes to reward us with lasting joy.

Grace and Peace, Nate Ahern