To Change the World

James Davison Hunter’s recent book To Change the World: The Irony, Tragedy, and Possibility of Christianity in the Late Modern World is an intellectual tour-de-force, and deserves to be read by any Christian interested in the task of culture changing. His interest is in examining how cultures change, and he takes to task the common view: get as many individuals as you can to change their “worldview,” and cultures will change one person at a time. Instead, as a sociologist he posits a more “social” view of cultural change, noting the interplay of ideas, institutions, cultural elites, and wealthy patrons. This is not the place for either a summary or a critique of Hunter’s work (I believe ultimately that the critique is extremely useful, whereas his solution, a “Theology of Faithful Presence,” is unfortunately weak). I hope to provide further posts on Hunter’s work. But it is worth mentioning the central place of scholarship and institutions of learning in cultural change (Chapter 5: Evidence in History).

Hunter notes, “In this story [of early church growth], educations was exceptionally important, for much of the spiritual and cultural creativity of the church resided in the establishment and transformation of the schools of that time.” Schools were established in all the major urban centers of that time: Rome, Alexandria, and Carthage, among others.

There were three factors related to their influence: (1) quality and quantity of intellectual output, (2) institutional strength, (3) care for the poor. First, by the end of the second century, thinkers like Origen developed a form of higher learning which combined higher learning from the Greco-Roman world with the unique insights of the biblical tradition. Thinkers like Augustine and Cyril of Alexandria challenged the central ideas of their day, and established a rich intellectual tradition that posited Christianity as not only one choice among the pantheon of Roman religions, but as the religion: both intellectually tenable and inspiring.

Second, the educational system of the Roman empire was the paideia—a system for educating the young involving a formal curriculum including grammar, logic, and rhetoric. Initially, this system served not only to educate, but provide the wealthy elite with a way to inherent and maintain power. Those in possession of paideia were trusted with influence. Yet over time, as Christians began to take the seats of learning, paideia became commonplace for bishops; and eventually the church absorbed paideia into its catechesis.

Third, Christian bishops rejected an aspect of paideia, which made sharp dinstinctions between urban and rural, citizen and non-citizen. The Christian bishops became “lovers of the poor,” and eventually came to represent not only the wealthy, but the community as a whole. For example, Basil (329-379) exploited his status as a local noble and gained “tax exemptions and personal immunities for the founders of poorhouses.” Care of the poor and disenfranchised caused pagan Roman rulers to grow green with envy (Julian the Apostate wrote a scathing critique of how the “Galileans” show compassion even for the pagan poor!).

These three factors are worth reflecting upon for Christian educational institutions today. First, and not stated above, are they located in the cities, the centers of cultural influence, or on the periphery? Centers of evangelical influence are today in Colorado Springs and Wheaton, IL, and the headquarters of the Christian classical movement is located is Moscow, Idaho. A movement toward the center will have to be a core element of Christian educational entrepreneurs who desire “culture change.”

Second, do Christian scholars and teachers interact, on a whole, with the center of idea creations, as the early church fathers both understood and challenged Greek philosophy? This is surely a mixed bag. In some fields, like philosophy, Christians have made headway in the past two decades. But in film, art, and in “public education,” Christians have been a small minority. The quality and quantity of Christian intellectual production among K-12 educators and, overall, in higher education (with the exception or seminaries), hasn’t made sufficient progress to bring about widespread cultural change.

Third, what is our curriculum? The Christian paideia has experienced a renaissance in the past two decades, but there are still only around 220 Christian classical schools, and only 1.5% of schools nation-wide could be called “Christian.” Public schools, which tend to follow a secular curriculum based on state standards produced by politicians, comprise 97% of how young people in America are trained to think. Though there are clearly good people within the public school system, the Christian classical model has produced cultural giants for hundreds of years—and they do acknowledging “the fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge.” For cultural change to happen, we need to build a network of reproducing Christian classical schools and universities that can be the incubators for superior learning.

And finally, these schools need to be accessible to the poor. This is surely the greatest challenge, as all Christian schools today must charge tuition. The challenge will be for creative young, Christian entrepreneurs to create models of Christian education that aggressively drive down the price of education without sacrificing quality.

Urban. Intellectual. Institutional. Accessible. With these four elements in place, Christians could indeed begin to change the world.

Strategic Planning - A Class for the IDEAL Institute

Tonight I begin writing class lectures on the topic of strategic planning for the IDEAL Institute at Denver Seminary. I do not propose any complex, convoluted methodology, nor do I expect to accomplish much by way of innovation. I simply will lay out my story. I will tell the tale of a young student, filled to the brim with ideas and visions, ye emptied like a tin can of the ability to accomplish those visions.

I will speak of the problems we find in both ourselves and our organizations.

Motion, but no progress; everything urgent, nothing enduring; leadership characterized by the random and reactive, and not the intentional and the wise; the presence of frustration that “I’m the only one pulling here” and the nagging doubt of whether we are doing anything of lasting value.

I will tell also of the benefits that are crowned upon the thoughtful planner. Much action in one direction, which leads to visible results; the urgent being redefined around the truly important; greater effectiveness through measurable results; and the joy of building a system designed for many to work together to accomplish a single, God-given end.

I will declare also the God who plans. The God who planned the story of salvation before the beginning of time (Eph 1:9-10); The God who plans for the good of the broken-hearted (Jer 29:11), and the God who calls us to plan and conform our plans to His (Pro. 16:3).

I will define the words “strategic planning” as a guide for future action, a process clarifying organizational aims, a philosophy of contemplation of the future, and a structure for an organization that forms the basis for an organization’s actions. It is a map and a bridge to tomorrow.

I will also warn of the potential arrogance of planning an uncertain future, and not to trust in man’s bravado, but instead to trust in the Lord, the Maker of Heaven and Earth.

I will lay out two simple models for strategic planning. The first model is “Simple Strategic Planning for Individuals and Small Groups.” This model, which works for individuals who simply want to become more effective, or for leaders of small groups, simply lays out a simple purpose for your action, and sets three conceptual levels of plans: objectives, strategies, and tactics. Objectives are enduring, and form the basic result areas deriving from your mission. Strategies are creative ways to accomplish those objectives based on the best information available to you. And tactics are objective, measure, and time-sensitive tasks that make their way onto your calendar. Upon forming the plan, one must implement the plan and review it each quarter and year for accountability and evaluation.

I will also propose a second model: “Simple Strategic Planning for Small and Medium-Sized Organizations.” This model, as opposed to being the territory only of an individual, involves all the stake-holders in an organization to ensure ownership. It too involves the formation of a clear purpose, objectives, strategies and tactics. But it is formed through several group meetings, whereby brainstorming and strategy formulation is a joint venture.

I will also implore my students to become organized themselves as I hand to the “A Simple Guide to Personal Time Management.” Strategic plans are nothing if they are not implemented in every day’s work. From annual plans, one’s personal calendar must be shaped by strategic monthly, weekly, and daily priorities, not on the tyranny of the urgent.

And I will pray with my students as I endeavor, with fear and trembling, to outline spiritual side of strategic planning, which calls for a quiet heart and a desire to pray daily. Ultimately, the plans of the Lord endure forever.

This I plan to do for my Spanish-speaking students at IDEAL, most of whom are bi-vocational pastors or lay ministers in immigrant churches in Denver. Indeed, what a privilege it is to teach. What a delight it is to learn. What a joy it is to serve.

Wisdom and Eloquence

If there is a more important book on Christian education than Robert Littlejohn and

Charles T. Evans’ Wisdom and Eloquence written within the last 20 years, I have yet to discover it. In Wisdom and Eloquence, Littlejohn and Evans lay out a “Christian paradigm for learning,” based in large part upon the experiences of Littlejohn’s Trinity Academy in North Carolina.

The book, which has been nominated for several awards, is a clear, succinct, and compelling case for a Christian classical education. Arguing that “wisdom and eloquence” are the purpose of education (based on Augustine’s writings), Littlejohn and Evans lay out the historical importance of a Christian liberal arts education, pointing out the failings of John Dewey’s progressivism on the public school system, and making the case for a form of education that has endured for nearly 2500 years.

Spanning the philosophical and the practical, Wisdom and Eloquence brings at least three weighty contributions to the conversation on education. First, it outlines the liberal arts curriculum, including the planning processes, the curricular priorities, and the teacher requirements necessary within the Christian classical school. Covering the Trivium (Grammar, Dialectic, and Rhetoric), the Quadrivium “Expanded” (Arithmetic, Geometry, Natural Sciences, and Music), and the True Sciences (Theology and Philosophy), Littlejohn gives readers a practical outline for a classical education. Tested by millenia of experience, and adapted to our modern situation, the liberal arts curriculum outlined in Wisdom and Eloquence is being imitated by the best classical Christian schools in the country.

Second, because Wisdom and Eloquence is written by a deeply experienced leader, it is devoid of the “heavenly musings” of most involved strictly in the humanities. Instead, it gives practical principles to everything from student behavior and co-curricular activities to admissions and the central importance of strategic planning for the effective operation of any school. In sum, after reading this book, one knows “what to do.”

Finally, it firmly establishes the classical Christian school as an intellectual and educational force within the world of 21st century education. Although there are elements that need to be addressed later (i.e. Is this education only for the wealthy “free man,” or is it truly for all?), Christians of all stripes should pay close attention to this movement. If modern public education is really built on the three-fold foundation of skepticism (not faith), evolutionary psychology (not redemption of sinners), and subjective values (not eternal truth), Christians need a response.

To my knowledge, this book is as good a response as a contemporary American Christian has produced to date.

Education Reform

David Brooks recently wrote an interesting Op-Ed for the New York Times entitled Smells Like School Spirit. He criticizes Diane Ravitch, one of “the nation’s leading educational historians,” who once was a great proponent of the charter schools, accountability, and testing of the educational reform movement. She now is one of it’s most vehement critics, arguing, according to Brooks, “There is no education crisis. Poverty is the real issue, not bad schools. We don’t need fundamental reform; we mainly need to give teachers more money and job security.”

Even though she makes some good points about the “humane” and relational nature of teaching, Brooks believes she goes too far in throwing positive change movements under the bus. Even though many of these schools are high on accountability (testing) he cites Whitney Tilson who “ has pointed out, the schools that best represent the reform movement, like the KIPP academies or the Harlem Success schools, put tremendous emphasis on testing. But these schools are also the places where students are most likely to participate in chess and dance. They are the places where they are most likely to read Shakespeare and argue about philosophy and physics.”

Brooks also points out that cities like New Orleans have multiplied their number of charter schools and “choice” (vouchers for private schools) since Katrina “Since 2007, the New Orleans schools have doubled the percentage of students scoring at basic competence levels or above. Schools in New Orleans are improving faster than schools in any other district in the state.”

The point of the article? “The real answer is to keep the tests and the accountability but make sure every school has a clear sense of mission, an outstanding principal and an invigorating moral culture that hits you when you walk in the door.”

For the Christian, we must ask two things. Within the Christian School world, is there proper accountability to ensure that schools excel? Unfortunately, the independence of far too many Christian schools has led to lower standards. Second, however, we must ask “From where does an ‘invigorating moral culture’ derive?” Brooks says that the best schools have, “a willingness to infuse the school with spiritual fervor.” I’m not sure where that spiritual fervor would come from for a secular person. For the Christian, however, that “fervor” forms the bedrock of a holistic education, founded in Christ, focused on students, and directed toward service.

The Lost Tools of Learning

Dorothy Sayers once wrote an essay that would spark a movement in the United States. Even though she confessed, “It is in the highest degree improbable that the reforms I propose will ever be carried into effect,” history proved her wrong – and her scribblings have launched a renewed educational interest in what have been called “Christian classical schools.”  The entire purpose of the essay was to recover what she believed had been lost in modern education: the tools of learning.

After pointing out some of the trivialities and contradictions within the popular culture of her day (which we are now so used to that we hardly notice them), Sayers zeros in on a single question: “Is it not the great defect of our education today that although we often succeed in teaching our pupils ‘subjects,’ we fail lamentably on the who in teaching them how to think?”  That is, although our students can suck in and spit out an impressive array of facts for a test, do they have the proper mental hardware to encounter new problems and new subjects?  Or are they inoculated to quality thinking and a love of learning by the confusing array of facts they learn, most of which they will forget anyway?

Sayers proposal is that we look several hundred years into the past for the answer. She suggests we look to the medieval syllabus outlined primarily by the Trivium.  The Trivium consists of three phases: grammar, dialectic, and rhetoric.  In grammar students learn primarily language and the raw facts they need to understand the world. In dialectic (logic), students learn the relationship between facts. And in rhetoric (persuasion), students learn to take facts and clear thinking and combine them to become persuasive individuals. These are the three phases of a medieval education.

Sayers imagines a school, then, in which these three phases overlap with three phases of child psychological development, what she calls the Poll-parrot, the Pert, and the Poetic.  The grammar phase overlaps with a child's “parroting” of others, in which kids naturally enjoy imitation, repetition, and games.  This is elementary school. The dialectic phase comes as the “Pert” in each child escapes around middle school, and naturally becomes argumentative in the early teenage years. Use this questioning of authority, says Sayers, for good educational ends, and teach them to think logically about questions and answers. Finally as high school emerges, students are ready to begin the art of persuasion as they become young adults and prepare themselves for either the work world or specific university studies.

Sayers little essay has caused small revolution in education. With Doug Wilson’s Recovering the Lost Tools of Learning, a movement was born to recover an system of education that was developed and perfected for over a thousand years, and only recently lost with the rise of progressivism and secular, humanistic public schools which spread in the early and mid 20^th century.  Today the Association of Christian and Classical Schools has endeavored to recover these “tools of learning” for young people today.

Though I am clearly no expert in child psychology, Sayers’ proposal seems to resonate with my own experience and what I see in the school I’m currently serving.  And the focus on giving students a tool for understanding the world and new subjects seems far more valuable than measuring success by how many AP classes you take (and quickly forget nearly all the information). Sayers declares, “For the sole end of education is simply this: to teach men how to learn for themselves; and whatever instruction fails to do this is effort spent in vain.”  Here’s my question: do we produce eager learners who go into college ready for new challenges, or data-filled kids burnt out on subjects (or worse, data-empty kids burnt out on facebook)?

As I’ve previously stated in this blog, the end of education must be service (in disagreement with Sayers, who would suggest that it is only more learning).  But, as Sayers points out, have we lost a methodology that produces clear thinkers and eager problem solvers, something our modern, globalized world desperately needs?  Regarding the subject of teaching methodology, as a general outline, one would be hard pressed to find a worthy competitor to the classical Trivium. Though I have yet to be sold on much of actual subjects of classical Christian education (Latin, Greek mythology, etc), I certainly side with the historic church on  how we must teach our students. The Trivium towers over its late-coming competitors.

Colegio Juan Wesley - Guatemala

As visitors approach Colegio Juan Wesley, an elementary and secondary school in San Cristobal Totonicapan, Guatemala, they behold colorful letters across the siding of the second floor: “A Dios sea la Gloria,” (To God be the glory).  Over 300 children, from preschool to básico (high school), attend this school—and dozens of work teams  throughout the year as well.  This past week, 7 students from Front Range Christian School, 1 other chaperon and myself served Colegio Juan Wesley by helping in the construction of a new vocational school.  Our eyes were also opened to the challenges of education in the developing world.

Timoteo Chocoy, the Director of Juan Wesley, hosted our team for the week. We stayed at the Wick House (a house for former missionaries), and were fed each day by Mari Lu, Timoteo’s hospitable wife.  We spent the week singing (to 3 different groups), preaching (this was just me), doing a Sunday school lesson, and hauling rock. Our hands were put to good use as we carried rock and sand for 2 1/2 days to the second floor of the new vocational school, which was to be used for the cement mixture.  Aching backs were the norm, but after Timoteo gave us the tour of the current school, much of which was built by short term teams, it became apparent that this work was worth the effort.

The vision for the school was born out of deep love and desperate need.  Originally a mission of the Primitive Methodist Church in San Cristobal, the school quickly grew out of the church building and needed a new building.  The vision for a school on the campus of Camp Shalom, near the Quiche Bible Institute, was born. Phase 1 would be the primary and secondary school. Phase 2 (which we were working on), would be the vocational school, a training institute which would give students the opportunity learn a trade – mechanic, carpenter, accountant, etc—and gain the skills for employment in Guatemalan society. Phase 3 would be an extension site of a Christian university.

Why the school?  First, the quality of public education in Guatemala could be described as poor at best.  Absent teachers, ignorant of curriculum, teaching in classes of 40+ is the norm. The average years in school for a Guatemalan citizen, even if they do stay in school, is less than five.  A quality, Christian environment, with well trained teachers was in such demand, the only barrier to doubling their size overnight was tuition costs. Second, the school was launched for the sake of mission.  For Timoteo, the school is a field of evangelism to the hundreds of students, over half of whom are non-Christians. Third, education is often the only way out of poverty.  The economic pressure for a child to stop school after elementary school and begin working is tremendous. Not only can families not afford the modest tuition ($15/month), but children are often expected to begin working in the fields or in the family business at a very young age—thus permanently limiting their social and economic possibilities.

Here’s my question: how do we make schools, like Colegio Juan Wesley, work for more students?  This is inherently a complex question. Quality teachers, competent administrators, and educational facilities are all central. But most issues come back to funding.  Tuition only covers about half of what it costs to educate a student, not including new projects.  What is needed is creative solutions for funding schools.  We need more donors who will provide scholarships to students (only $350 / year).  We also need creative solutions for funding schools. What about building businesses in the community which could give half of their profits to the school? Or what about using the vocational school to produce ready-made products for market, thus providing a measure of operational funding (this idea is already in the work)? Or could high school students work one day a week for Christian-owned companies and businesses, giving the student valuable work experience and the school their wage as a compensation for tuition (check out the Cristo Rey model)? 

“No margin, no mission,” a recent head of school said at a marketing seminar.  This negative margin, to which most schools can identify, really needs to return to the forefront of educational conversations, especially among leadership. The developing world, including the children at Colegio Juan Wesley,  are waiting for creative solutions.

Race to Nowhere

A movement is afoot in the United States questioning America’s achievement culture in education.

Today the Denver Post did a special article on AP exams.  The author did several interviews with students at Boulder’s Peak to Peak Charter School, Colorado’s “most saturated public Advanced Placement environment.” Apparently 96% of its students take AP courses, which has made Peak to Peak #37 on the list of top high schools in America.  They even do pre-AP courses for students too young to take regular AP courses.  The author cites another case of a principal in Pueblo who instituted a host of reforms based almost entirely on increasing the number of AP courses offered at his school.

But significant push back against an “AP is everything” culture is growing.  Several college officials have seen high school students with an impressive portfolio of AP courses enter college, as one enrollment official at Colorado College has put it, “devoid of the more elusive qualities of passion for learning, freshness of mind, curiosity.” 

Many high school students try to smash as many AP courses into their schedule their junior year in order to secure the college selection of their choice, and then “coast” through their senior year.   Regarding this attitude, the director of admissions at UC Boulder commented, "I completely disagree with that philosophy," he says. "The best students are good students and good citizens across multiple areas. I worry when there's so much pressure on students to take more AP that they start to cut some meaningful activity from a balanced life."

Thoughtful people across the country have been questioning the sanity of the AP system.  A new educational documentary entitled Race to Nowhere (of which my school is hosting a screening next week), questions many facets of “America’s achievement culture.”  After a young girl in her community committed suicide after performing poorly on a math test, director Vicki Abeles went on a crusade to uncover the distortions of the American educational system.  Unveiling student testimonies about stress, burn-out, cheating and pressured performance, Abeles has taken issue with a culture that sees success as 7 hours of school, 4 hours of extra-curricular activities, and 3 hours of homework per night. 

The film doesn’t make the case that AP exams are inherently bad or pressure-filled, but it certainly does make us all ask the really fundamental question, “To what end do we educate?”

And this culture introduces other problems. Many high achieving students graduate with a sense of entitlement, and an expectation that they’ll succeed anywhere they go.  But, as the film points out, when many young graduates are given a situation in which there is no clear problem and no clear solution (ie, no syllabus), they are paralyzed with confusion.  Skills like abstract thinking, creativity, and problem solving (the types of activities done by people who lay on the grass and stare into the clouds) are few and far between.

Christians also must critically evaluate their own academic pursuits as well.  Do we want to achieve (and have our children achieve) so that we can get into the best school, to get the best job, to get the best house, and to be “happy.”  Is happiness, by any measure of the term, really determined by your GPA or your college degree?

Are we educating young people to be whole individuals, to succeed in family life and civic life as well as their careers? Or are we producing top notch achievers who are used to pushing ahead of the pack, but very seldom think about going to the back of the pack to lift others up?

Race to Nowhere is a film that ought to be seen by anybody interested in education. And the long-term validity of AP exams should be questioned by every student and administrator who believe they are the silver bullet to educational success.  The people of God must really ask themselves, once again, “Why?”  We need a redefinition of success in education based not on the throne of achievement, but on the cross of service.