The End of Desire

“Whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst.”

Every man from the moment of his birth is full of desire—humans want warmth, to be held, to slake their thirst and appetite. As we grow older our desires become more complex: we desire recognition, security of position; we desire romantic love and acceptance; we desire a good name. Given our sinful condition our desires often become corrupt and perverse and frustrate our goals and the goals of others. The desire of wealth devolves into avarice and leads to hoarding that destroys wealth creation; the headlong and promiscuous pursuit of love destroys the stability and commitment upon which true love is built.

Be that as it may, desire in and of itself is not bad. Humanity would long have been extinct had it not been for mankind’s natural sexual urge. What progress would we have without the desire to learn and know? It is not desire that is evil, but disordered desire. Desire in itself, when morally and temperately pursued, can lead us to the End of all desire. This is not to say a man will cease wanting new things. Rather there is a purpose, a final goal, that drives all of our desires, but that is not found in the desire itself. This great mover is above and behind all desire, driving desire beyond itself towards its true and ultimate purpose.  

Nearly all our desires correspond to an earthly consummation. For example, we hunger, there is food; we tire, there is rest; we desire to know and be known, there is family and community. Yet as C. S. Lewis pointed out, there remains a desire greater and beyond all desires that nothing on earth can satisfy. Given that all our other desires correspond to means of consummation it is only logical to reason that this desire too has a means of consummation. Since that consummation cannot be found in this earth we may infer that it can be found outside our world. Now, desire alone does not prove satisfaction—a hungry man may die of starvation. But hunger does prove that we are beings that require food to survive.

Our ultimate desire, the desire behind all other desires, is our desire for God. This desire does not prove that we will obtain God, but it is good proof that we are made to know and be known by God. 

Lacking connection with God we turn to pale idols, weak imitations of what can only be found truly in Him. Lacking security in Him we seek security in money; lacking acceptance in Him we vainly seek it in the approval of our peers or in the romantic embrace of another. These idols, being dumb and mute, can never satisfy our longings for the infinite and eternal.

A great example of their failure is seen in Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby. The title character makes the pursuit of a woman the center of his life. His love for her is obsessive and grand, extending high above and beyond the typical bonds of romantic love. When Gatsby finally is united with the object of his passion and obtains all he has been longing after, he is still left unsatisfied. “There must have been moments even that afternoon when Daisy tumbled short of his dreams—not through her own fault but because of the colossal vitality of his illusion. It had gone beyond her, beyond everything.” Gatsby looked to a finite human to quench his longing for the infinite. The object of his desire broke his heart and left him broken and alone at the time of his death.

St. Augustine, like Gatsby, was a man of desire. Augustine too desired the love of women; he too desired to make himself great. But unlike Gatsby Augustine turned from these false pursuits and turned towards God. As he himself prayed to God, “You make us for yourself, and nothing else will do. Our hearts are restless until they rest in you.”

Recognizing Christ as the ultimate fulfillment of every noble and good desire freed Augustine to rightly enjoy the things of this world. Following Christ does not mean hating all things, as Augustine discovered, but rather thanking God for all things and enjoying all things in God.

Without God, our enjoyment of things can never be temperate. As St. Thomas Aquinas pointed out, “All men need love. When deprived of true love men must needs turn to false love.” Without God we will always be tempted to expect too much from the things of this world and give to these created things the devotion merited only by their Creator.

The love of earthly things apart from God can only make a man wretched. If in this place a man is willing to admit his wretchedness and seek his happiness elsewhere, God in His grace will often lead him to Himself as He did with Augustine. If, however, the man doubles down and seeks to find his happiness in created things he will not find God and not overcome his wretchedness.

Pascal said there are there three types of people: those that seek and are happy that they find, those that seek and will find, but are unhappy until they find, and those that don’t seek and remain blind to their inevitable and eternal unhappiness.

Our unrequited desires will lead to unhappiness on this earth. While earthbound even the greatest saints long for deeper intimacy with God—this intimacy will only be found in Heaven. This frustration need not be in vain. The purpose of desire and its inevitable earthly frustration is to lead us to seek things beyond the world. If it leads us to seek God, we will have moments of frustration still, but insignificant will they be in light of the glory and beautification that will be ours as we know and love and enjoy our Maker and Redeemer for all eternity. 

The Worldliness, Death, and Salvation of Ivan Ilyich

“There is a way that appears to be right, but in the end it leads to death.”

Many men, blinded by sin and selfishness, recognize this truth tragically too late. Death is our great curse, the penalty of our rebellion against God. Yet God’s redemptive power is greater than our sin. The greatest sin in man’s history was deicide—our God and creator, the maker and sustainer of the universe entered His creation and we murdered Him. God took this unimaginably wicked sin and used it to undo the curse, to free us from sin and the clutches of the devil, and to bring us into a place of new life. God’s redemption is greater than even our greatest sin.

God does not just redeem our sins; in His power He is capable of redeeming even the just consequences of our disobedience. In The Death of Ivan Ilyich Leo Tolstoy shows how God redeems the death of a foolish and worldly man, using the penalty of his sin to free him from sin.

“Ivan Ilyich’s life had been most simple and commonplace—and most horrifying.” Ivan is like most men and most men are worldly, self-indulgent, selfish, and sinful—to live a commonplace life in our fallen world is to life a life apart from Christ, a life that can only end in death and damnation. It is to live, in a word, a horrifying life.

Throughout his life Ivan pursued all that which is easy and pleasant. This keeps him from real relationships with people. He diminishes his wife to a cook, house-cleaner, and partner in bed. She, being a living and breathing woman, is both unwilling and incapable of being reduced to this role. As a human being with free volition she interferes with his pleasant life. For this reason he makes his work the center of his life. Ivan’s work is a place where he can easily abstract himself from himself and live his life passively. He does this by focusing on the tasks at hand while ignoring their significance and the people that his decisions affect.

Ivan’s selfish and shallow approach to life is best embodied in his love of cards. Whist is his central pursuit and consumes the majority of his free time. Why does Ivan love it so much? It is pleasant and it requires nothing of him. 

The faults of Ivan are obvious to most readers, but Ivan is completely blind to them. Everything he does is approved of by those in his society so he has no reason to doubt their morality. Ivan is attracted to man’s approval like a moth to light. When a moth attains its object and reaches the flame it loses its life. In the same way, when society is worldly attaining society’s approval can only come at the cost of losing one’s soul. This is the situation that Ivan is in when his health begins to deteriorate: he has gained the world, but has forfeited his soul.

While Ivan is healthy it is easy for him to ignore the fact that he is in a state of sin and damnation. But illness soon makes him confront his mortality and the way he has lived his life.

While he was healthy cards were his greatest care and pleasure. At one point during his illness he misplayed a trick and lost a hand. This would have been bad enough, but Ivan soon realizes that this doesn’t even bother him. After all, what is one lost trick when one is confronting death? This realization terrifies him.

In the same way, when healthy Ivan was able to abstract himself from his job and his family. When he contemplates his death Ivan realizes he is more than an abstraction. “Caius is a man, men are mortal, therefore Caius is mortal” may be a valid syllogism, but Ivan is more than a syllogism! He is a man with a past, a man with hopes, a man with pain and joy, a man that has loved and been loved—surely his existence cannot be reduced to this cold, hard fact of logic! In order to maximize his tranquility Ivan has been striving to abstract himself from his life. Ironically, in contemplating his death, Ivan comes to realize that he is more than a mere abstraction.

The growing pain that Ivan experiences begins to lead him to question more aspects of his life, but the approval of his fellow man prevents him from discovering the truth. “‘Perhaps I did not live as I should have,’ it suddenly occurred to him. ‘But how could that be when I did everything one is supposed to?’ he replied and immediately dismissed the one solution to the whole enigma of life and death, considering it utterly impossible.” Ivan’s failure to admit his faults keeps him from entering new life. He cannot discover the real purpose of life before admitting that he has been chasing a false purpose; he cannot have forgiveness without first admitting that he is wrong.

On the last day Ivan of his life Ivan finally admits that he had not lived how he ought to have lived. For a while this fills him with fear—he has lived wrong and there is now no time to make amends and live as he ought to live! This despair is graciously short lived. As Ivan seeks truth he quickly finds it. “Yes, all of it was simply not the real thing. But no matter. I can still make it the real thing—I can.”

What is the real thing? It is not found in religious observation. When Ivan receives last rites he immediately declares this is “Not the real thing.” He has a vague sense that the “real thing” has to do with following his conscience and that he ought not have suppressed a natural goodness that he used to have. But the question remains, how can he retrieve that?

It is only when his son kisses his hand that Ivan finds the real thing. What is the “real thing”? It is love—specifically gracious love given to a sinner in spite of his sin. Receiving this unmerited love transforms and regenerates Ivan. He goes from hating his wife to pitying and forgiving her. Instead of clinging to his life for his sake he seeks to die for the sake of others. And his fear of death? “What death? There was no fear because there was no death. Instead of death there was light.”

Death, that which brings an end to life, is used by God to bring life to Ivan. Facing his death forces Ivan to reevaluate his life and admit that his life was not a real life. After he concedes this he is able to enter into true life by means of his death.

In The Death of Ivan Ilyich we see the mystery of redemption and the power of God to redeem the worst of things and the most foolish of men. This work should challenge us to see ourselves in Ivan and examine the unexamined parts of our life. It is appointed unto every man to die. Any fool can see this in the face of death; a wise man will contemplate it when he is brimming with health. Am I living as I ought to live? On what basis do I even answer that question? Am I basing my righteousness on that of Jesus Christ or the applause of my peers? Have I repented of my vain and sinful pursuits? Life is waiting for us, but we can only enter it by dying to ourselves. Reading this novella should lead us to seek our life in Christ now and not wait until it is too late.

Unpacking the Gospel Message in Crime and Punishment

In Crime and Punishment Fyodor Dostoevsky masterfully probed the psychology of a murderer. Much ink has been spilt discussing Dostoevsky’s theories as to why men commit crime, the consequences of revolutionary philosophy, and the connection between crime and madness. These are all interesting questions to discuss and pursue, but none reaches the heart of this novel. At the heart of Crime and Punishment is a demonstration of the power and beauty of the Christian Gospel to transform and redeem a life . . . and the consequences that follow when men reject the Gospel.

To briefly recap the plot of this novel. The protagonist, Raskolnikov, comes to believe that he is a “superior man” and as such has the moral duty to shed blood so that he may socially advance and thereby help mankind progress. He tests his theory by killing a pawnbroker; to cover up this murder he is compelled to kill her sister as well. He loses his head in the midst of his crime and it is luck, not criminal cunning, that helps him escape. The crime drives Raskolnikov to madness. All the while he plays a cat and mouse game with a police detective that attempts to convince him that it is in the best interest of his soul to confess. Finally, due to a combination of mental exhaustion and the encouragement of a young lady, Sonia, Raskolnikov confesses. He is sentenced to hard labor in Siberia where he eventually fully repents and finds salvation.

It is an intriguing and compelling story, but for Christians it is more than that. Though the Gospel message isn’t immediately apparent, there are a number of Gospel Truths, latently strewn throughout this work. Reading the work with these truths in mind can help us to both share and grow in our faith.

To begin with, Dostoevsky does a peerless job of characterizing the consequences of sin. When discussing his crime Raskolnikov cries out “Did I murder the old woman? I murdered myself, not her! I crushed myself once for all, for ever.” He may have destroyed her body, but he destroyed his soul that fateful day.

In criticizing Sonia Raskolnikov sneers “your worst sin is that you have destroyed and betrayed yourself for nothing.” This truth could be justly applied to his crime. Raskolnikov has lost his soul, lost himself, and in return he has nothing. That is cold, stark truth about the nature of sin.

Throughout the story Raskolnikov is repeatedly connected with Lazarus. Lazarus was dead, but the power of God brought him back to full life. Can the same happen to Raskolnikov? Before bringing his protagonist to salvation and new life Dostoevsky compares him with two other characters that for various reasons fail to attain salvation: Katerina Ivanovna and Svidrigailov.

Katerina shares two similarities with Raskolnikov, she is proud, yet she too is a recipient of the unmerited love of Sonia. Her pride is often portrayed comically, yet it is fraught with tragic consequences. As her husband lies on his deathbed the injury his failures did to her pride prevents her from forgiving him. In fact, she goes so far as to celebrate his death. “And thank God he’s dying! One less to keep!”

This same pride prevents her from receiving forgiveness. In the moments leading up to her death she is encouraged to repent. Blinded by her pride she responds “I have no sins. God must forgive me without [the confession of my sins]. . . . And if He won’t forgive me, I don’t care!”

Sonia acts as foil to Katerina. Sonia, forced into prostitution by her father, forgives him and embraces him at the moment of his death. What is more, Sonia loves, forgives, and even defends Katerina even though Katerina beats her. Instead of worrying about her rights, Sonia loves and forgives those who wrong her the most. This love could have served as an example and inspiration to Katerina, as it did Raskolnikov, but in her pride Katerina rejects it.

Svidrigailov is the second character that Dostoevsky contrasts with Raskolnikov. On the face of it Svidrigailov is the “superior man” that Raskolnikov wants to be. While murder overwhelms Raskolnikov, Svidrigailov seems capable of killing without the slightest moral qualm. He is unmoved by the censures of his fellow man and seems to live a life “beyond good and evil.”

Yet when the guilt of his past actions catch up with him, he ends his life quite differently than Raskolnikov. While Raskolnikov finds peace and forgiveness Svidrigailov ultimately takes his life in despair. Why the difference in outcomes? Raskolnikov finds unmerited love in Sonia. This gracious love transforms him. Svidrigailov seeks in vain for this same love in Dounia. When it is finally and irrevocably denied him, he is left in sin with no hope of redemption. In this state of permanent hopeless he has no other option but to end his pain and guilt by destroying himself.

Raskolnikov shares similarities with both of these characters. He, like Katerina, is filled with a delusional pride—after all, he initially thinks he is some type of Napoleon! Like Svidrigailov he longs to be beyond good and evil. But unlike either he finds light and life, hope and salvation. How? In a word, Sonia.

Sonia in person embodies the gracious, unconditional love of God. She loves Raskolnikov wholly and fully, without regard to what he says or does, in spite of what he does! After finding out that it is he and no other that has murdered her friend Lizaveta, Sonia embraces and comforts him. “‘What have you done—what have you done to yourself?’ she said in despair, and, jumping up, she flung herself on his neck, threw her arms round him, and held him tightly.” She at once recognizes both the nature and consequence of his sin and this fills her heart with pity.

Raskolnikov, for his part, initially rejects her gracious love, refusing to admit any wrongdoing. “I’ve only killed a louse, Sonia, a useless, loathsome, harmful creature.” In response to this Sonia tells him that he must confess his sin. If he does this then “God will send you life again.” She promises to follow him to Siberia and to bear his punishment with him.

Raskolnikov confesses to the police more out of ennui than Godly sorrow. He is sentenced to hard labor, but remains proud and unbroken. After nearly a year after his crime, he breaks down and receives Sonia’s love, weeping while embracing her knees. This is the moment in which he experiences “a full resurrection into new life.” In case we missed the significance of this, Dostoevsky went on to write that this ushered him into a new story, “the story of the gradual renewal of a man, the story of his gradual regeneration, of his passing from one world into another, of his initiation into a new unknown life.”

There is much to learn from this tale. We can clearly see the nature of sin and the death it brings sinners in the suffering of Raskolnikov. We see some that are offered gracious love and salvation, like Katerina, that in pride reject it. We see others, like Svidrigailov, that search in vain for redemption, fail to find it, and end life in bitter despair.

Ultimately we see that salvation is a function of grace. Raskolnikov does not deserve to be saved! He committed double premeditated murder. He did not murder out of need, but in the pride that he was above the rules and expectations of the common man. Raskolnikov initially sneers at the gracious love of Sonia and mocks her faith. He refuses time and time again the offer of her love and her request that he admit his guilt. But ultimately, in a process mysterious even to him, he repents and finds love, and in love, new life.

Those of us in Christ can ask like questions: why did we turn to Christ? Why did we turn to Him when others in similar situations turned from Him? Why did we repent when we did and not earlier or later? These are mysterious questions. For Dostoevsky they are questions that cannot be answered for our salvation lies not in a theory, but in gracious love, freely offered us. Accepting this love brings life; in refusing this love we will forever remain in the state of death that our sins create.

What is Christian Education?

Christian schools provide children with a Christian education. What does that mean? While there are many other things we could include, it is possible to reduce the essence of Christian education to three essential aims.

1. The ultimate goal of Christian education is that children will know the Truth. This should be the goal of every school, but many are ignorant of or in rebellion against the Truth. Christian schools recognize and proclaim that the fullest revelation of Truth is found in Jesus Christ and we seek to help our children accept this Truth in faith.
2. We train our students to view everything in relation to the Truth. This is not to say that Christian school students only read Christian books; they don’t. We don’t shelter our students from bad or false things, rather we help them to understand these things in light of who God is and who He has made them to be.
3. We seek to foster an environment where kids are encouraged to walk and grow in Godliness. Christian schools do this by hiring teachers that are examples of wisdom and virtue worthy to be imitated. What is more we hold kids accountable when they begin to stray from the narrow path.  

To put it succinctly, being a Christian school means we want our kids to know God, to see the world from His perspective, and to live their lives in obedience to Him. Everything we do, from who we hire to the various curricula we use, is done in an attempt to further this goal.

What is Classical Education?

Classical education has been growing in popularity over the past few decades both in the founding of new schools and in homeschooling. Despite this a lot of people don’t know what classical education consists of.

So what exactly is classical education? In short, classical education is a tried-and-true pedagogical approach that doesn't just teach children what to think, but rather teaches them how to think. A core goal in a classical education is to instill within students a desire to learn and to equip them with the tools they will need to be lifelong learners. One of the central ways in which classical schools equip students is by following the trivium.

Trivium. In following the trivium classical schools divide learning into three stages: grammar, logic, and rhetoric. During the grammar stage students learn the fundamental facts and principles of the various disciplines (e.g. multiplication, spelling, etc.). During the logic stage students learn to question and critically examine facts and information. During the rhetoric stage students learn how to communicate all that they have learned clearly and winsomely. These three stages mirror the natural development of children, which allows students to learn with greater ease and effectiveness.

Other hallmarks of Classical education include the use of the Socratic Method in classrooms, a focus on Western Civilization and the Great Books, the study of Latin, and high expectations for students.

The Socratic Method. The goal of the Socratic Method is to help students discover answers themselves as opposed to being fed answers by the teacher. The Socratic Method fosters discussion and the ability to draw clear distinctions as students work through difficult and engaging questions.

A focus on Western Civilization. Not that Western Civilization is better or worse than any other civilization, but as Americans it is our civilization. One needs to understand one's own culture and history in order to understand oneself. Likewise, one needs to understand one’s own culture before one can understand another culture. Knowing our heritage is particularly important given that we as Americans live in a country where we have the right to elect officials and influence policy. If we don’t know why we do what we do, it is easy to disregard good things or to try things that have already been proven to be failures or worse.

A focus on the Great Books. Classical students learn science and math, but the goal is to help them be mature men and women of character, not dutiful worker bees successful enough to purchase lots of consumable goods. For that reason classical schools give equal weight to the humanities instead of narrowing their focus to applied science and mathematics like most conventional schools. In our teaching of the humanities we read classic texts in place of textbooks. For example, instead of reading a text on the philosophy of Plato, students read Plato himself; instead of reading a modern professor describe ancient Rome, students read Livy and Plutarch. This is not a new approach, but rather an old one. Like centuries of students before them, our students read the texts that form the backbone of Western Civilization and Culture.

Latin. Classical students study Latin and often Greek. This helps them to dive deeper in their understanding of Classical Cultures; it also helps them to better understand the Bible and early Christian Theology. Moreover, having a foundation in Latin helps students to learn English grammar. It may be surprising, but in the past English grammar was often taught using Latin. Likewise, an understanding of Latin equips students to be able to quickly learn other languages.

High expectations. Classical schools have high expectations both in terms of academics and behavior. Character formation used to constitute the core of education; the ancients focused on it and modern psychology is proving that they were right on two fronts. First, your grit, or the character that is a product of your habits, is a far better indicator of your success in every area of life, from job to family, than your IQ. Right now the average student in the United States gives up on a problem they don’t understand in 20 some seconds! Our society lacks grit and this shows in our failed marriages, cheap friendships, lazy parenting, job hopping, etc. Second, we have come to recognize that kids that are taught basic etiquette and manners in little things are less likely to do big harms. Right now we as a society (implicitly) teach young men that they can swear in front of girls, that they need not hold doors etc. and then go on to tell them that as adults they had better treat their wives and girlfriends with respect. This, as we are seeing to the harm of many women, simply does not work. If you want to stop people from committing big harms you need to teach them to treat others better in small, day to day things. The habit of holding doors and watching their language as boys will make men far less likely to abuse a woman in the future; likewise, getting kids in the habit of sticking with a hard homework problem will make them far more likely to stick in a hard marriage, remain in a tough job, or complete a difficult task.

Education used to be centered on the pursuit of the True, Good, and Beautiful. At classical schools we seek truth in the books we read and in our pursuit of mathematical and scientific knowledge. Classical schools seek to develop within students character capable of knowing and loving the good. And classical schools point out beauty in the world and the works of men, all the while encouraging students to develop beauty of soul.

All in all, those of us in the classical school movement believe that that a classical education is the best means possible to acquire wisdom and virtue, both of which help one to grow in maturity and to flourish in a variety of human endeavors. 

Euthyphro as Praeparatio Evangelica

From the earliest ages of our faith Christians have wrestled with our relationship to our pagan heritage. Some, like Tertullian, have more or less rejected it out of hand—after all, what good is great learning and philosophy when the foundation of our belief is its very “absurdity”? Though this fideism constantly reappears throughout Christian history, it is not the dominant strand of thinking. Going back at least as far as Justin Martyr has been the notion that Christ has been known, obliquely and wrongly in many cases, but known nonetheless, by many pagans. While Christ is the only full expression of the Word and that the Bible is the only infallible revelation of God, God is not wholly contained in either. Because of this and since we all bear God’s image and all of us have access to God’s general revelation, most cultures have insight into the Truth.

As a classical educator, I obviously follow this approach. I wouldn’t be dedicating my life to transmitting the wisdom of long dead pagans if I didn’t think they had something fundamentally worthwhile to teach my students. That being said, I also recognize that while all men bear the image of God, sin has profoundly broken that imagine. Knowing this I don’t naively or foolishly accept everything ancient; I know that for every profound pagan insight there are a dozen errors. No matter its age or reputation, I know I must evaluate every work on the basis of God’s revealed word.

There is good reason for us to take this approach. In preaching to the Athenians Paul quoted pagan poets to elucidate his points. What is more, we can see the fruit of this approach in the conversions of many great Christians. C. S. Lewis converted because he was convinced Christianity embodied and actualized the best of pagan myth. St. Augustine became a Christian after he realized that everything true within the neoplatonists was incomplete and only fulfilled in Christ.

In teaching our students how to discover good and true things in pagan works we can help them identify good and true things in our post-Christian culture. Being able to recognize these things will empower them to better contextualize the Gospel and thereby be more effective witnesses. A great source for this type of training is Plato’s Euthyphro.

For those unfamiliar with this dialogue what follows is a brief summary. In the final stage of his life Socrates talks with a young man, Euthyphro, that is prosecuting his father for murder. Ironically Socrates states that Euthyphro must know everything about piety to do something that on the face of it appears so impious. Euthyphro in pride responds that he in fact is an expert on matters of piety and holiness, at which point Socrates asks Euthyphro to instruct him. Euthyphro confidently attempts to define holiness a number of times. Socrates, through his questions, shows how each definition fails. The dialogue ends with Euthyphro giving up and abruptly fleeing Socrates.

Given that Socrates lacked God’s specific revelation there was no way he could have known specific truths of the Gospel like the fact that God would become man and die in man’s place—human reason is incapable of accessing mysteries such as these. However, using his God-given reason, Socrates could and did discover many errors and deficiencies in the religion of his countrymen, errors and deficiencies that the Gospel would correct and complete.

To begin with, consider the famous “dilemma” that Socrates raises: is the holy approved by the gods because it is holy, or is it holy because it is approved (10a)? As Euthyphro shows in his confused and stumbling answers, this is a question that pagan religion cannot answer. If the gods answer to a standard above them, then they are not gods in the fullest and most meaningful sense. But if there is no standard and their power and wills alone determine what is right, human beings are left in a rather precarious position. The gods are in this scenario no different than the worst of tyrants that rule by fiat and justify their crimes by declaring in effect sic jubeo, sit pro ratione voluntas— “I command it. Let my will take the place of reason.” What can a human learn of justice or holiness from such beings as these? Only fear could inspire a man that worshipped these gods. Such a man would cower and propitiate, but never have his heart changed. In pointing out this dilemma Socrates showed the need for a Christian understanding of God.

In God there is no division between essence and existence like there is in human beings. We as people can know truth; God is Truth. We are capable of love; God is Love. We have life; God is Life. Given this, God does not arbitrarily choose what is good nor is there some standard of goodness apart from or above God. Goodness is objective and unchangeable, but it emanates from the character and being of God. In uniting Goodness with the person of God Christians have been able to solve this seemingly insoluble dilemma.

Socrates also points out the need for a concrete, specific revelation from God. When Euthyphro uses the past actions of the gods to justify his behavior Socrates ironically asks, do we not “admit for ourselves that we know nothing about them” (6b)? Elsewhere Socrates repeatedly asks for “proof,” “clear proof” that the gods really approve of Euthyphro’s actions (9a-b). Of course Euthyphro cannot give proof, let alone clear proof. Pagans lacked a specific revelation from the gods—all they had were conflicting, contradictory myths. Since they could not reliably know the will of the gods from their stories, pagans looked to other sources on which to ground morality. The problem was that all these alternative sources fail. Emotions cloud and mislead when people are upset and need clear guidance. Tradition often justifies past oppression. Reason was the best alternative, but given man’s limitations and passions, it too could not and cannot be fully relied upon.

Given that our natural abilities fail to lead us, we need a supernatural communication to guide us in how we ought to live. Euthyphro knew this but lacked it. His want of this revelation points for the need of the Bible.

Finally, Socrates shows us our need for grace. Euthyphro attempts to define the pious and holy as that which is “concerned with looking after the gods” (12e). Socrates points out that looking after something improves it. Given this definition, being holy is something that improves the gods (13c). Given the absurdity of this, Euthyphro instead states that man’s holiness is looking after the gods like a slave looks after his or her master (13d). But any type of service we provide for the gods, Socrates points out, implies a corresponding need, for it would be foolish to provide something that the gods have no need of (14e). After pointing this out Socrates proceeds to berate Euthyphro, “Show me what benefit the gods eventuate from the donations which they receive from us…. [H]ow are they benefited by what they receive from us?” (14e-15a) In other words, Socrates shows that we cannot define man’s holiness by his works!

As Christ and the apostles would make clear centuries later, there is nothing a man can do to be holy; our holiness is a gracious gift of God. Socrates could not have known this, but he does hint at this possibility in one of his ironic questions. “Or do we come off so much better than [the gods] in this trade, that we get all good things from them, while they get none from us” (15a)? In essence, a Christian can respond to this with a hearty YES! That is how grace works! We get all the benefits even though our righteous works are like filthy rags before God. Socrates could show the need for grace, but it is only in the fullness of God’s revelation in Jesus Christ that His grace was actualized and our need was met.

Still, the question could be asked, what value does this have in a Christian classroom? After all, our students have God’s full revelation and thereby no longer need the incomplete, half-blind gropings for truth of the pagans...right? In a word, no.

First off, there are a number of students raised in Christian homes that become inured to the Gospel. Showing them Gospel truths in other sources is a great way to reinvigorate their faith and give them confidence that what they believe is in fact true.

Second, these sources can be used to correct misunderstandings of faith. Every good Protestant child knows they are saved by grace through faith. And yet I don’t know how many times I have talked to a student that has told me the reason why they shouldn’t sin is because it hurts God (e.g. it makes baby Jesus cry). When I push them on this, I find that they believe that God’s commands were given for His sake, not ours. Euthyphro is a great source to by which we may probe these false understandings. “If God gave commands for His sake, how does our obedience benefit Him? If not for His sake then for whose, etc.?”

Finally, our students need to be trained to view things that our culture believes as Praeparatio Evangelica, as things that prepare the way for the Gospel. To give just one example, consider the premium that most modern Americans, especially young ones, put on tolerance and diversity. These are good things, but have been largely misunderstood. This gives us an opportunity to spread the Gospel. We can say that we as Christians really value these things. Our society does as well, but in practice our society is divided like never before. Then we can go on to show that historically, people have always been divided by race, class, etc. and it has only been in recognizing the fatherhood of God that we have achieved the brotherhood of mankind. People that want diversity want a good thing, but destroying all absolute moral standards except tolerance will not get them there! One need only open a newspaper at random to see how this approach is daily failing. That’s the bad news. The good news is we Christians have the solution! We have that which people are blindly searching for. Simply declaring that Jesus died and rose isn’t going to open too many doors to evangelize; showing how the things that people are rightly seeking after can only be found in God will open doors. Instructing students on how to do this by using old texts is one of the best ways we can prepare our students to be effective witnesses in the world. 

Thoughts on the Invention of Adolescence and its Relation to Modern Education

I think the concept of adolescence (or even, childhood arguably) arose for two reasons during the industrial revolution.

First, kids and young people were working in terrible conditions. Adults were too, but their hardened bodies were able to endure more. There are plenty of stories from Manchester and Liverpool of kids working 14-16 hours a day, falling asleep and being beat, etc. In those areas at the height of the Industrial Revolution the life expectancy for a male was 17(!) Kids had always worked, but this was different. In the fields nature set the pattern: in winter people worked less; in harvest they would work more, etc. Not to mention that a child’s parents and kin would keep an eye on him or her to make sure he or she wasn’t being overworked. In factories managers answered to investors that didn’t know the workers or conditions—their goal was to maximize profits. This led to exploitation. In reaction to exploitation people invented the construct of childhood/adolescence because they knew that this was wrong and they wanted to protect the vulnerable.

The second reason is that industrialization delays the process of economic maturation. In an agrarian or hunter-gather community a boy knows all he needs to know and can do all that he will need to do somewhere between ages 12-14. Coincidently (or providentially?) this is the time he is sexually mature and ready to reproduce—i.e. a man is ready to have kids at the same time he is ready to support a family. In an industrial economy boys and girls still sexually mature at 12-14, but they are not economically mature until….when? 18 for a factory? 22 for an office job? Nigh 30 if you want to specialize as a professional. The fact is being an engineer, surgeon, or computer programmer takes a lot of training.

Add in the fact that we live in a democratic state. In a monarchy, citizens don’t have a say in policy so they don’t really need to know history, philosophy, etc.—those pursuits can be reserved for advisers of king and the specialized few that will record and transmit knowledge. But in a democracy people without knowledge (of history in particular) are far more likely to be manipulated by a demagogue.

While I don’t think that adolescence is a good construct, I see why it arose. I think the problems with education are related to this development, but slightly different.

First, we assume that all kids can equally learn if just given the chance. This is false. People have different abilities and interests (I don’t think I could have been a great basketball given the right conditions...). A lot of what we want to teach is elitist (e.g. classic literature, chemistry, trigonometry, etc.) and to expect the majority to learn and master what only the few are capable of learning and mastering is going to lead to a watering down of standards and frustration with and hatred of school.

Second, we have so little faith in parents that we assume that things not taught in the home will not be taught at all (what else explains home-ec., sex ed., health and fitness, etc.?). Chesterton defined democracy (and I’m quoting from memory, so forgive me) as “the belief that the greatest things like making laws and raising kids should be done by regular people and not experts.” I believe 110% that we need to bring responsibility for education back to the home as much as we can. Will some parents do a bad job? Yes. Does this suck? Big time. But those same parents are probably already messing their kids up. I may want to take kids away from bad parents and put them in school thinking it is in their own best interest, but in so doing I would be putting myself in the place of God who gave parents that responsibility. Moreover this would and does undoubtedly create a cascade of unintended consequences. (Note: I do think kids can and should be taken from parents in exceptional circumstances, but this is best handled on the local level, ideally with extended family, where people have the most knowledge. I also don’t think all kids should be taken from their parents because some parents are bad, which is more or less our current system—or at least the direction toward which we are heading). (Note:  In the past once things left the family at least the community, which was generally tight nit and homogeneous, used to direct things to a large degree. Even before national standards the courts have been taking this power away for them and it has produced the mess that we see around us today.)

Third, the push for state-run schools was made in large part by factory owners! The very people that were exploiting kids funded schools with the goal of making more docile workers. For example, a kid (or adult) that lives on the farm is not used to waking up at the same time, eating at the same time, doing the same repetitive things, being indoors all day, etc. (this is why Luddites and the like smashed equipment and women were hired in higher numbers—independent famers could not adjust themselves to this, they thought it was tyranny and often rebelled against factory owners and managers). School gets kids up early, gets them used to the 40 hour work week, regiments their days (you move when the bell rings whether or not you’ve learned the lesson; you have to ask for permission to relieve your bowels or bladder) and in so doing prepared them for the industrial world. Industrial barons gave money for education then like computer companies are giving money for common core today—to direct education in order to use it for their purposes. Education used to be centered around the pursuit of what is Good, True, and Beautiful. Those things don’t help to control workers or (clearly and directly) impact the bottom line.

So what to do? I don’t have any better solutions than before. In general, empower kids by giving them more responsibility and make the home the locus of education (at least at lower levels—I don’t expect all or even most parents to be able to teach physics, Pushkin, or Plato.)