Protect!

by Dr. Lindsey Scholl, Logic School Coordinator 

In a recent article on leadership in Christian schools, Andrew Kern, founder of the Circe Institute, admonishes school leaders to put the nourishment of the child’s soul first on their priority list. Kern asserts that “we mustn’t call ourselves Christian schools if the driving energy of our decisions is not the love of Christ for the children, the blood He shed, and the Spirit He sent to save their souls.”  That means we have to prioritize the spiritual nourishment of our children over and above budget concerns, test scores, college admissions, and so on.

I think we would all agree with what Kern says. At TCS, I believe that we are serious about putting the children’s spiritual growth before other, more worldly, considerations. In fact, it seems to me that one of the easiest parts of Christian education is to love the children who have been entrusted to us.

But sometimes adults can be harder to love.

If we consider the Christian body as a family (and by extension, the Christian school), then the imagery of divorce is both appropriate and convicting. In how many divorces do the parents claim to “fall out of love” with the child?  It is not the children whom the parents are struggling to love; it is each other.

We are reaching the end of our school year. We have had many triumphs, but also a few trials and, alas, some friction. After all, the co-teacher/teacher/administrator triangle is a valuable structure that takes work to maintain. Friction is inevitable with a group of imperfect adults, and some of it has been justified and fruitful. It has resulted in teachers making adjustments for co-teachers, co-teachers for teachers, admin for teachers, and so on.

During these processes, it has been my prayer (and my personal challenge) that we avoid what my mom calls “sniper-fire.” This activity is the close cousin of throwing somebody under the proverbial bus. Both actions are easy to do and we may not even know we are doing them. Sniper-fire consists of short, quick comments that mock another person at some level. It is not meant to elicit a response. Take the following conversation as an example. (Out of my writer’s instinct, I have chosen to use Russian names.)

Co-teacher A: Mrs. Akulov is late to Morning Assembly again.

Co-teacher B: Yep.

Throwing somebody under the bus tends to be more obvious. For example,

Student: Mrs. Akulov, I don’t have my quiz. My mom forgot to pack it.

Teacher: Well young Vladimir, whose responsibility is it to remember your quiz?

Student [head low]: Mine, I guess.

The adult version of this would be,

Teacher: Vladimir’s mom won’t respond to my emails. I guess she’s too busy dragging her kids to Boy Scouts, gymnastics, and baseball practice.

Administrator: I know what you mean. I don’t know why Mrs. Romanov insists on running those kids all over Houston.

It is easy to correct our students for throwing teachers and parents under the bus, but much more difficult to avoid the activity ourselves. Yet the adults to whom and about whom we speak are just as much members of our Christian family as our children are. Though they might deserve to be thrown under a large yellow vehicle or taken down by sniper-fire, it is not our responsibility to subject them to those things. After all, Christ commanded the disciples to love one another, and the “one another” in question were faulty adults.

In the Christian fantasy series, The Wingfeather Saga, there is a character whose sole motivation in life is to protect the children under his charge. He has one mantra going through his head all the time: Protect! Protect! Protect! How pleasing would it be to God if we had that mantra going through our head regarding other adults? The above conversation between the teacher and administrator would now go something like this:

Teacher: Vladimir’s mom won’t respond to my emails. I guess she’s too busy dragging her kids to Boy Scouts, gymnastics, and baseball practice.

Administrator (in Protect! mode):  Mrs. Romanov has a lot going on. Perhaps your email was lost in the shuffle. Maybe you could send another one?

I hasten to add that TCS parents, teachers, and administrators tend more toward the Protect! mode than toward sniper-fire and under-the-bus-throwing. But we can always practice it more radically. In doing so, we will build up a community in which the adults love each other as well as love the children. I cannot think of anything more nourishing to a child’s soul than to witness such a phenomenon.

Come Further Up, Come Further In!

by Neil Anderson, Head of School

We are nearing the end of Narnia. Three years ago, we began the journey through the Chronicles during lunch time. We’ve read at least one book every semester since. I doubt it has been as enjoyable for the students as it has been for me, but I do hope they have had fun.

Next week we will read chapter 15 of the The Last Battle, which contains one of my favorite passages:

It is as hard to explain how this sunlit land was different from the old Narnia as it would be to tell you how the fruits of that country taste. Perhaps you will get some idea of it if you think like this.You may have been in a room in which there was a window that looked out on a lovely bay of the sea or a green valley that wound away among mountains. And in the wall of that room opposite to the window there may have been a looking-glass. And as you turned away from the window you suddenly caught sight of that sea or that valley, all over again, in the looking-glass. And the sea in the mirror, or the valley in the mirror, were in one sense just the same as the real ones: yet at the same time they were somehow different–deeper, more wonderful, more like places in a story: in a story you have never heard but very much want to know. The difference between the old Narnia was like that. The new one was a deeper country: every rock and flower and blade of grass looked as if it meant more. I can’t describe it any better than that: if you ever get there you will know what I mean.

It was the Unicorn who summed up what everyone was feeling. He stamped his right forehoof on the ground and neighed, and then cried:

“I have come home at last! This is my real country! I belong here. This is the land I have been looking for all my life, though I never knew it till now. The reason why we loved the old Narnia is that it sometimes looked a little like this. Bree-hee-hee! Come further up, come further in!”

This passage contains one of the main reasons we read Narnia in the first place. We pray that our students will catch a glimpse of that deeper country within their course of study. Lewis is attempting himself, through these books, to be that mirror in which we might catch a reflection of this country in which everything means more.

Lewis likes windows and door, they are prevalent in his literature. In An Experiment On Criticism, while pondering what the good is in reading stories, Lewis writes:

The nearest I have yet got to an answer is that we seek an enlargement of our being. We want to be more than ourselves. We want to see with other eyes, to imagine with other imaginations, to feel with other hearts, as well as with our own. We demand windows, and literature is a series of windows….that admit us to experiences other than our own.… in reading great literature I become a thousand other men and yet remain myself.

In this particular instance, there is a hope that these make-believe adventures in Narnia will help to stimulate a healthy longing. Have you ever tried to answer questions about heaven for your children and felt as if every word you uttered has done a great disservice to your child’s image of heaven? Sometimes we need the help of men and women, in whom God has planted a bigger/deeper picture of the Kingdom of God and who are gifted to put it on display for us through literature, music, art, film, etc. This is the Holy Spirit’s work, and we know he does not need our art forms to reveal himself, but it seems he is happy to use them.

The unicorn declares, “I have come home at last! This is my real country!”  reminding us that there is a land that we were made for, and the soil we are standing on is not it. Education as data absorbing/dispensing is not a very catalytic enterprise for the average student. Education as a quest for our true home is a significantly more compelling endeavor. We are looking for the signs, listening for the sounds, and trying to learn the ways of that future kingdom, which will be our home.

These passages are rich. They never fail in calling me further up and further in. I know some of you are bitter towards me because I am reading Narnia at school before you could get to it at home. But I would say, read and reread! If you have the books at home, read the final chapters of The Last Battle over again next week with your children, they contain lines that are worth dwelling on and discussing. Use them as a catalyst for digging into the Scriptures, reading the descriptions of the last days in Revelation, reading Jesus’ words when he explains what the Kingdom of God is like.

Come further up, come further in TCS families!

And he said unto them, Unto you it is given to know the mystery of the kingdom of God – Mark 4:11

The Awakening Power of Poetry

by Kate Weise, TCS Grammar School teacher

“Poetry was formerly the universal medium wherein human beings expressed and evaluated their highest ideals. We are now in a post-poetry world, where we would rather turn to amusements crafted precisely to distract us away from such deep consideration.”–Douglas Bond, Forgotten Songs

 Douglas Bond is right. Aside from the occasionally poetic lyrics found in praise choruses, pop songs, and rap music, poetry has all but disappeared from modern life. Yet the peculiar art form of poetry offers so much. When we read a poem, we get to watch the poet laugh as he imitates his Creator, twirling words into motion, and stretching his hand across the broad range of grammar. From the rhythms and the beat and the marching of the feet to the simply scrumptious sounds of words—poetry show us how to revel in beauty. Indeed, poetry’s linguistic richness would be argument enough to read it. But let’s consider two other reasons:

1.     Poetry Enlarges Our Minds

Poetry enlarges our minds through its use of metaphor, a literary device running rampant through the Scriptures. Metaphor explains mysteries through everyday examples.  It seems so much of the Scripture uses poetic tools; the gospels are sprinkled with parables, the psalms and the prophets with strange metaphors (Ezekiel lying on his side for a year!). Consider the descriptions of the Savior: Jesus is the Word made Flesh. Beyond this, John speaks of Christ as the Bread of Life, the Light of the World, and the Good Shepherd.  Then, the God-Man institutes a metaphorical ceremony within the church: the bread and the wine of the Eucharist. Throughout the Scriptures, God speaks awesome truth through down-to-earth images. As Emily Dickinson wrote, “The Truth must dazzle gradually/Or every man be blind.” Exposure to poems can teach us to make use of poetic knowledge as we contemplate theology.

 2.     Poetry Teaches Us to See

 Poetry also teaches us to pay attention. In a poem, we sit with the author as he pays attention to the details of his life and the world at large. No good poem can be rushed; most need two or three readings to make sense. Yet in the process of digesting a poem, considering individual words, and examining segments of line, we learn to digest the world we live in.

 In One Thousand Gifts, Ann Voskamp explains how slowing down and reflecting (a gift offered to us in poetry) makes us see all the moments “pregnant with wonder” that surround us: the sunlight reflecting off a child’s hair, the rustling of leaves in the wind, the color of a rose in the garden, the whirring sound of wheels on the highway.  As poetry teaches us to pay attention to words, lines, rhythms, and meaning, it teaches us to observe the sanctity of an ordinary moment. So often, the greatest poems come from simple, nondescript moments. But, paying attention to the world and thinking objectively about it in light of faith can lead to cognitive dissonance. If we take time to read poetry, we may crouch by the side of a crushed sparrow to contemplate life, death, beauty, sorrow, and meaning. For the Christian, reading poetry involves the discipleship of doing practical theology, of translating our experiences through the Truths we believe.

Luci Shaw writes: “[Christians] are required to take both earth and heaven seriously; and, moreover, to attempt to find connections that bridge the gap between the two. Learning to be amphibious, that is, adapting to life in these two radically divergent realms, heaven and earth, demands of us that we learn to see again.”

I want to see. I want to understand metaphor. I want to live my life in wide-eyed wonder at this place I live in and the people I meet. Beyond its aesthetic value, the practice of reading poetry can make us more observant, more thoughtful, and increasingly worship-driven.

A Short Anthology of Suggested Poems:

“At the Shore,” by Mary Oliver
“God’s Grandeur,” by Gerard Manley Hopkins
“Verses Upon the Burning of Our House,” by Anne Bradstreet
“St. Frideswide’s Chapel,” by Luci Shaw
“The Eagle,” by Alfred Lloyd Tennyson
“Santarem,” by Elizabeth Bishop
“Arkansas Stone,” by Bobby Rogers
“Fog,” by Carl Sandburg

Books Referenced:

Shaw, Luci. Breath for the Bones. Nashville: Nelson Publishers, 2007.
Voskamp, Ann. One Thousand Gifts. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2010.
Wells, C.Richard and Van Neste, Ray, Eds. Forgotten Songs: Reclaiming the Psalms for Christian Worship. Nashville: B&H Publishing Group, 2012. 

Homeschoolers with a Heart for Mission

Stereotypes usually exist for a reason. Of the various negative stereotypes, one persistent charge is that homeschool families, through their choice to keep their children out of the public school system, have disengaged from society and are not fulfilling Christ’s missional mandate to be salt and light. While this image may be an accurate portrayal of some homeschooling families, it does not hold true for all, especially those of the newer generation of homeschoolers.

In a blog post provocatively entitled “Death to Homeschooling” (2005), Tony Jones, a Progressive Christian theologian and leader in the Emerging Church movement, sides with the detractors, and judges that homeschooling hinders living out a missional life:

[It] seems to me that if I am truly committed to living a missional life, then I must enroll my kids in the public school. That is, I am committed to living a life fully invested in what I might call the “Jesus Ethic” or the “Kingdom of God Ethic,” and also fully invested in the society — in fact, you might say that I live according to the Kingdom of God for the sake of society. 

So it seems to me that to withdraw my children from public education is to not play my (God-given) role as a missional member of society… [I] can’t think, “I’ll just pull my kids out of the public schools — what difference will one less follower of Jesus make in a school full of hundreds of kids?” I don’t, as a Christian, have the option to “opt out” of the societal contract. Instead, I live under a mandate to be the most involved, missional societal participant that I can be.

In another article by Tony Jones, entitled “Why Homeschoolers Don’t Understand Missional,” he critiques homeschoolers’ understanding of mission:

 Missional does not mean “sharing Jesus”. Missional means showing Christlike compassion to other human beings and to all of creation… Missional means being the salt seasoning in the world, and you cannot be that seasoning if you withdraw from society.

Tony Jones is summarily equating homeschooling with withdrawal and non-participation. This is his position: one cannot show Christlike compassion to other human beings and to all of creation, one cannot be missional salt seasoning in the world through homeschooling. So what do you think: Are “homeschooling” and “being missional” contradictions in terms? Is putting your kids in public school the only way to demonstrate a missional heart?

I think the simple answer to these questions is “no.” Withdrawal is not inherent to homeschooling any more than mission is inherent to putting your kids in public school. Yet I would concede that it takes some more effort on the part of homeschoolers as a whole to convince outsiders that we can be as missional, if not even MORE missional, than others. You yourself might be wondering how to engage in mission when you have diapers to change, dinner to cook, school projects due…and more! I believe homeschoolers can live missionally, and I’ve raised the comparison with public schoolers only to address the stereotype; my goal in this article is not to debate public schooling versus homeschooling but rather to talk about integrating mission and homeschooling. 

But first, what is “mission?” The God we serve is a missional God. From the calling of Abram in Genesis to the great multitude worshipping around the throne of the Lamb of God in Revelation, He is a God who wants to be made known. And He is a God who invites his people to engage in His mission, which is the global outreach of the global people of the global God rooted in the very nature of God.[1]

The mission of God was embodied in Jesus. Jesus taught about the kingdom of heaven. He walked the earth, fed the poor, healed the sick, and spread hope. And before he ascended back to heaven, he charged believers to testify to the things he had done, and be salt and light to the nations. You do not have to be a professional or a superhuman for God to use you in His mission. Every Christian is called to engage in the missionary activity of our missionary God. Which brings me to homeschooling.

In thinking of homeschooling and mission, two words come to my mind: formation and intention. Being missional involves formation, spiritual formation. Have you ever noticed that you need homeschooling as much your kids do? Homeschooling is a spiritual endeavor. God will use homeschooling to sanctify you! So, first and foremost, develop a deep love relationship with the Lord. When you love God and want to see His name exalted among the nations, you will naturally want to be a witness. Service will become an overflow of your heart, and not just one more task to tack on at the end of an already busy day. It is easy to focus so much on teaching and training our children that we sacrifice ourselves in the process. So, parents, do not neglect your own walks with the Lord in the midst of homeschooling.

For your children, homeschooling provides opportunities for spiritual formation and discipleship, especially when they are young. Homeschooling gives you the freedom to incorporate spiritually-forming stories and Bible study as part of your curriculum. Having your kids at home with you being their primary influencers allows you to train their loves and nurture a missional mindset during their most impressionable years. In Jesus’s Sermon on the Mount, he tells believers they are to be salt and light. Our children are part of the salt and light of Christ. But we need time to form them, to train them, and to discern each child’s unique spiritual giftings and spiritual readiness. Just as you would not send a soldier off to battle before training, don’t expect your children to know how to be missionaries in the spiritual battlefield without training them, especially if they are not old enough to have professed faith in Christ! Jesus never commissioned non-believers to be his missionaries. So, parents, use your abundant time at home to teach your children the Bible, pray for missionaries with them, and guard your family’s times with the Lord.

Being missional requires intention. As I stated earlier, the fact that you homeschool does not mean that you are not mission-minded. Many homeschoolers have a deep commitment to mission, which is why they homeschool in the first place. On the flip side, the fact that you homeschool doesn’t mean that you ARE spending your time being missional, either. Being missional requires intentionality. Intentionality requires you to constantly examine your life and make sure you are not just going through the motions. Try to find 5 minutes in your day, anytime, anywhere, to do an examen of how you spend your day, and see if there isn’t a window in there where you can extend an outward hand. Intentionality requires assertive energy, but try not to think of it in terms of increasing busyness, but about being more intentional in what you are already doing. For instance,

1. If you sponsor a child through Compassion International, you are probably writing letters to your sponsored child. Let your kids write letters too. Ask them to make a card. Pray for him.
2. If you make a meal for a sick neighbor, let your kids help you cook the meal. Have them accompany you when you deliver the food.
3. If your child plays a sport, chat with the other parents on the sidelines. I’m sure there are days when you’d rather mind your own business, but you can bless someone with a simple conversation.

It is often easier to be missional when you are in community with others with the same mindset. If you have homeschooling friends with the same heart for mission, try to serve together. Your children will be even more motivated when they serve with their peers. Homeschooling is fueled by grass roots energy. Capitalize on that energy to impact your community. Homeschoolers are often creative, independent thinkers who can think outside of the box. Channel that creativity into others.

I want to share a personal story about how being at a University-style school like TCS has allowed me to be missional as a homeschooler. About six months ago I was asked to join the board of VOX Culture, a non-profit whose mission is “to connect our Houston community with social causes in creative ways.” VOX means “voice” in Latin, and Vox Culture is an arts and advocacy network who serves to give voice to social causes. Because I share the responsibility of homeschooling with TCS I don’t have to write lesson plans or research curricula or grade papers. I can use that time given back to me to be involved in Vox Culture. I take my kids with me to almost every event. In the past year, they have helped put on a superhero party at the Salvation Army for the kids who live at the Residence Center; they have cleaned the beach; they have handmade jewelry in a workshop with refugees; and they have participated in a fashion show benefitting refugee artisans showcasing traditional and modern clothing. I love that I am able to do this and homeschool my children, and I am thankful that I live in an age where schools like TCS exist to free moms up to dedicate themselves and their children to things outside of homeschooling.

I know many of you parents have a passion for mission, and I would love to hear your stories. Many of you are in the ministry, are married to pastors, are involved in your communities, or support ministries in foreign countries. But some of you are only now starting to give thought to mission and how it relates to homeschooling. I want to encourage those of you who are feeling overwhelmed or struggling with guilt over not being more missional. There will be seasons of life where you are more homebound, and that’s OK. Just as there are seasons in creation of greater and lesser fruit, likewise moms experience seasons where they are able to be more or less involved. Each season has its purpose, and if you are mindful, you can learn to be content instead of discouraged. Find your own rhythm. It might be weekly, monthly, or yearly. Strive to achieve your own rhythm over a lifetime.

I also encourage you to embrace a particular orientation to the world and our identity in it. Motherhood is a gift. Homeschooling is a gift. It is a blessing to be a mother and a homeschooler. But having a missional mindset requires us to embrace another identity above those roles, and that is a primary identity not as a mom, not as a homeschooler, but as a child of God called to participate with Him in His mission. It’s easy to make the roles of mother and homeschooler false idols in our lives. Motherhood and homeschooling should be viewed as tools for a season to participate in God’s mission. Misplaced identity can derail us from living out our mission with joy. Viewing life from my primary identity puts things in perspective.

To conclude, let’s go back to the Tony Jones article “Death to Homeschooling.” He believes in public schooling because he aspires to be “the most involved, missional societal participant that [he] can be.” Parents, you can do that with your children! You don’t have to look very far to find a way to extend compassion, practice hospitality, welcome a newcomer, or serve your community in this city. One does not live missionally simply by virtue of being a public schooler, or a mom, or a homeschooler.  We have all been called and gifted to be a part of the mission of God. No matter your occupation, you are called and gifted within your context to participate in God’s mission. It’s not the context that determines, it is how you live out your faith within that context. Above all, ask God to fill you with His spirit so that you are serving out of the overflow of your cup.

In Luke 24, Jesus appears to his disciples when they are gathering after his resurrection and he opens the Scriptures to them. After charging them to be his witnesses he then empowers them: “And behold I am sending the promise of my Father upon you. But stay in the city until you are clothed with power from on high” (Luke 24:49). Moms and Dads, in Christ you have been clothed with power from on high to engage in the mission of God.

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[1] Combining the voices of theologians Karl Hartenstein and John Stott

Recommended reading: The Missional Mom, by Helen Lee, and Global Soccer Mom, by Shayne Moore

Acquiring Good Taste–Practical Steps

by Dr. Lindsey Scholl, Logic School Coordinator

In the last blog post, we discussed the importance of acquiring a taste for the true, the good, and the beautiful for ourselves and not just for our children.  This is important not just because we want to be good models for our children, but because we ourselves are individual children of God; having a healthy intellectual life should therefore be our joyful pursuit, whether we have children or not.

All of this sounds nice in theory, but how do we practice it?  As Yogi Berra has said, “In theory there is no difference between theory and practice. In practice there is.”  There are many ways to approach a godly life of intellect.  For this post,  I offer what I consider to be three foundational practices that will aid us in practice and not just in theory.

The first step to acquiring a taste for what is true, good, beautiful, and possibly daunting is attitude.  We must prayerfully adjust our attitudes from “I can’t do it and I don’t want to do it” to “I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength.”   None of us should attempt to read intimidating books, tackle foreign languages, or learn trigonometry in our own power.  We are believers in Christ.  We have emptied ourselves of our own power and we have been filled by Christ, in whom all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge are hidden!

Sometimes I think that a believer who tries to do something in her own power is in a worse state than a non-believer who attempts the same.  We have already signed over our rights to Christ.  Therefore, whatever small strength we may have had is gone, subsumed into the magnificent, unstoppable power of God.   Bible verses pile all over each other to prove this point, but here is one: 1 Cor. 6:19 states that you are not your own, you were bought at a price.  Therefore glorify God with your body (and your mind).

Your attitude and my attitude should be the attitude of Christ Jesus, and Jesus had the unruffled confidence, the steady assurance, the joyful yet impressive work ethic of a conqueror.  As Romans 8:37 says, “we have become more than conquerors through Christ.”

A real-life inspiration for what we can accomplish through God’s help is Cheryl Lowe.  If you are a TCS parent you may recognize that name, since it’s written across the bottom of your Latin books and many other pieces of curriculum.  Cheryl Lowe was a public school teacher who became a homeschool mom, who became dissatisfied with the Latin options for kids.  So she wrote her own curriculum.  Then she founded a publishing press.  Then she founded a school.  Cheryl Lowe has the attitude of a conqueror.

The first step to a healthy intellectual life, then, is to modify your attitude into one of dependence on God, yet utter confidence that he will strengthen you for every good work.  Academically, this good work may be simply pronouncing an unfamiliar term, it may be reading an ancient classic in translation, or it may be it may be learning calculus.  God’s strength is enough for all of the above, and plenty more.

The second step is awareness of the situation in which God has placed you.  When you have young ones running around the home, it is highly unlikely that you’re going to tackle a 900-page book with success.  We have to be realistic.  To start a major intellectual project when you have twenty minutes a week to carry it out might lead to frustration.

You have the option of carrying that “with Christ I can do this” attitude into what your child is learning and learn along with them.  Recite things with them.  Get stronger academically with them.  If while going through the process you can say you have learned a large portion of what your child has learned, then you’ve just received something more valuable than a college education.  If you have a student in the upper grades, read their literature books along with them.  If you have a student in the lower grades, and they’re researching, for example, the state of Ohio, find adult parallels to what they’re learning.  That way, you will become an expert on Ohio–a rare find in Texas–and also be able to supplement your child’s learning.

Your intellectual growth does not have to be a different project than your child’s.  The chances are great that you will not have time to study the constellations if your student is studying the parts of a plant.  It is okay, even desirable, to merge your subject of study with what your student is studying.

The third step of practicality is to learn with your inclinations, but stretch your inclinations.  Not all of us are Lord of the Ring fans, and not all of us are math wizards.  Learn in the areas that interest you, but be willing to stretch that circle bit by bit into other areas.  Is it possible for you to develop a taste for Ernest Hemingway when all you have read is C.S. Lewis?  Yes.  Is it possible for you to take interest in the working of a cell when what you really want to be doing is eating humus and exercising?  Of course.  I may never be a mathematician, but how wonderful it would be if I could learn enough math to apply it to the subjects that are close to my heart?

I mentioned earlier that drinking tea is a respite for me now, whereas at one point in my life it was a chore.  The same applies to learning.  One of these days, you might find that a Jane Austen novel or gazing at the stars and knowing their patterns is a desirable experience that refreshes you.  You’ll be drawn toward those experiences, you’ll thirst for them, because you’ve made it a priority to acquire a taste for them.

Note: A great resource to start you on your lifelong journey of education is The Well-Educated Mind: A Guide to the Classical Education You Never Had, by Susan Wise Bauer. This books offers suggestions on how to read various literary genres.

Acquiring Good Taste

by Dr. Lindsey Scholl, Logic School Coordinator

I recently had the privilege of addressing the moms at Mom’s Night.  I was encouraged by the amount of chatter and fellowship – so much chatter and fellowship, in fact, that Mrs. Anderson had a difficult time calling the group to order.

The subject of the evening was good taste, and I shared my story about how I came to like hot tea.  It was in the spring of 1999.  I was 20 years old and an Anglophile, which means I loved all things English and, by extension, British.  I was actually in England for the first time, studying for a semester, feeling very homesick, yet otherwise soaking in the castles, the rain, and the history, but not the tea.  At the time, I thought hot tea was bitter and gross.  But when you’re sitting in the home of an elderly English gentleman, and he places a cup of hot tea in front of you, lovingly mixed with milk and a little bit of sugar, complete with toasted crumpets and hot cross buns, you drink the tea.

Of course I found it repulsive, but I drank the entire cup anyway.  So he poured me some more, and then every time I saw him (he and his wife were my ‘adopted parents’ over there, so I saw them quite a bit), he would offer me tea.

Three months I was over there, drinking tea, eating crumpets, looking out the window at buildings that were older than my country.  By the time I came home, I was hooked.  I saw in a cup of hot tea not just a soothing drink that could settle a meal.  I saw an experience in it; a respite from a hectic day, the chance to sit and gaze out of a window and muse about life.  I won’t say I saw everything that a cup of hot tea can offer (who can, really?), but I had acquired a taste, and the process of acquiring that taste made my enjoyment of it that much richer.

At our Information Meetings for prospective parents, Mr. Anderson has spoken extensively about encouraging the true, the good, and the beautiful in our kids.  I think we all want to do that.  Who wants to go on record opposing something called “the true, the good, and the beautiful”?  But there is a great difference between applauding the true, good, and beautiful things in life and pursuing them.

I want to encourage you, personally, to acquire a taste for that which is good, that which is true, and that which is beautiful.  Not just so you can be a better parent.  Not just so you can be a better spouse, or teacher, or friend.  I want you to encourage you to acquire this taste so that you can better experience the majesty and magnificence of God.  So you can worship.

To do this, you must be strong and courageous, for the Lord did not give you a spirit of fear, but of power and of truth.  In other words, do not be afraid of big books, dead languages, or complex math problems.  Most of us are afraid of at least one of these.  For myself, math is my weak point.  I sometimes joke about my math phobia, but it’s a legitimate issue that I must deal with.  It does not glorify God that I throw up my hands in defeat whenever a math problem arises in my life.  That is a fear that I am nurturing rather than conquering.  If I continually say “I’m not a math person,” or “I don’t do math,” then I am telling God, “God, I don’t plan on growing in this area.”  Such an attitude is hardly God-honoring!

What is your phobia?  Is there an area of life or academics that you think is bitter and gross?  Is there an area of study that has you intimidated?  If you’re shaking your head “no,” I would encourage you to examine your attitude towards Latin.  I’ve had several conversations in the hallway with parents who are exceedingly nervous about Latin.

This is not a blog post directed towards TCS parents.  It’s directed towards you, as an individual child of God.  Do not live a contradiction, telling your child to experience all the wonders of rich learning but never seeking out those wonders for yourself.  That is like telling your children to read the Bible but never letting them see you read it.  Do not encourage your child to study hard and learn Latin because it’s important, but in your own life, you have declared Latin-phobia.  God has given us a rich, wonderful world to live in and when we close ourselves off from it, we become impoverished, always begging for handouts in the forms of sermons and sound-bites but never wanting to work for that knowledge ourselves.

But how can we work for it when our lives are so busy? In next month’s blog post, we’ll turn to practical applications in helping not only our students, but also ourselves to acquire a taste for the true, the good, and the beautiful as we walk on this journey together.

There is No Other Stream

In our lunchroom Narnia reading, we have picked up this year with The Silver Chair. Here is a passage we encountered a couple weeks ago. It documents Jill Pole’s first encounter with Aslan after she has been without water for an extended period of time:

“Are you not thirsty?” said the Lion.

“I am dying of thirst,” said Jill.

“Then drink,” said the Lion.

“May I — could I — would you mind going away while I do?” said Jill.

The Lion answered this only by a look and a very low growl. And as Jill gazed at its motionless bulk, she realized that she might as well have asked the whole mountain to move aside for her convenience.

The delicious rippling noise of the stream was driving her nearly frantic.

“Will you promise not to — do anything to me, if I do come?” said Jill.

“I make no promise,” said the Lion.

Jill was so thirsty now that, without noticing it, she had come a step nearer.

“Do you eat girls?” she said.

“I have swallowed up girls and boys, women and men, kings and emperors, cities and realms,” said the Lion. It didn’t say this as if it were boasting, nor as if it were sorry, nor as if it were angry. It just said it.

“I daren’t come and drink,” said Jill.

“Then you will die of thirst,” said the Lion.

“Oh dear!” said Jill, coming another step nearer. “I suppose I must go and look for another stream then.”

“There is no other stream,” said the Lion.

I am always curious about our students’ comprehension level when we read passages like this. Most of them were tuned in to the fact that this part of the story felt like another story with which they were familiar (the woman at the well). I know because I asked them. I think by now many students understand that Aslan is a character of power, authority, and ferocity on the one hand, and kindness, compassion, and nurturing on the other. I think they understand that he is the character of all characters with none other like him.

It is very possible to over-analyze a great work of fiction, particularly in the early years of learning. I like that our lunch reading really only allows time for the reading itself. This is how Narnia should be read the first couples times. That’s not to say that I don’t try to throw out subtle indicators when Lewis is expecting them to pay closer attention, like slowing way down with ample dramatic pauses.

This portion above was read slowly with the hopes that students would listen closely. For unlike our world, there is only one place to get a drink in Aslan’s country. There is no way to lap at the stream without engaging the Lion. And we will need to trust him that his stream will quench our thirst.

I don’t know if TCS students yet realize that they are thirsty. It is our job to remind them that we all drink or we die. It’s our task to help them realize there is only one stream.

On the last day of the feast, the great day, Jesus stood up and cried out, “If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, ‘Out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.’” – John 7:37-38