Doxological Pedagogy (Part Four)

The Preeminence of Christ

A doxological pedagogy begins with a full-orbed understanding of the preeminence of Christ in all things. Unless we see Jesus sitting at the center, unless we acknowledge Him as the integration point, the one in whom all things hold together, we will not properly understand the world around us. As we confess, all things “in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers,” were made “by Him…through Him and for Him” (Colossians 1:16). That confession necessarily shapes what we remember, how we understand, and who we love. But every educational endeavor necessarily shapes and equips pupils in the what, why, and who. It will happen no matter what philosophic or religious convictions are held by the teacher. The hearts and minds and affections of students will always be shaped in some direction. The Christian educator, striving to work within a doxological framework, must therefore be all the more aware of how that shaping is done, and in what direction. For Christ is not honored by a secular philosophy of education simply because the class is opened in prayer. It is entirely possible for a Christian teacher, with every good intention in the world, and a genuine love for Jesus in her heart, to unwittingly train her students to consider either their own minds (with Plato) or their own feelings (with Rousseau) as the governing principle of the subject that they are learning. 

A secular philosophy of education, taking Plato and Rousseau as our prime examples, rests on the inherent goodness of mankind, the fundamental ability of children to choose what is right, on their own, apart from grace. Accordingly, man does not need God to intervene; children do not need Christ to understand mathematics, or biology, or literature. If understanding the mechanics of something was the only thing education actually accomplished, then perhaps an argument could be made in support of that position. But even within a secular worldview, despite its areligious rhetoric, simply understanding the mechanics is not the whole picture. Again, memory and understanding lead inescapably to love, even within a secular framework. A lesson on the mechanics of some aspect of this world will necessarily lead to a deepening love for what the student has been conditioned to see as the prime reality behind it all. Taking our cue from Augustine, to be an image bearer is to love. An education that does not shape the affections, therefore, does not exist. Christians know and confess that the prime reality is God. But if God is removed, as He is in a secular worldview, what is there to love? The short answer is man himself. If there is no God above man, man becomes his own god. This is why secularism, defined as areligious, is a myth. Every worldview, every philosophy is a religious one. The names of the gods change, but the presence of a god remains. As can clearly be seen in both Plato and Rousseau, the final object of worship, the final object of man’s love, is man himself (either collectively or individually). This is where memory and understanding lead in a secular philosophy of education. 

God or Man?

But Christians know that man, as an object of worship, is a false god, an idol that must be torn down. The worship of man (or, to be honest, the worship of self) must therefore be eradicated not only from our methods of teaching, but from our very understanding of education. We come back to the questions posed in the previous chapter: What is man? What is man for? Secularism believes (and it is a faith position) that man is the center of all things, the apex of all the universe, and not bound by any moral standard found outside this material world, for there is nothing (according to secularism) outside this material world. No God, no divine law, no objective standards for morality. That means there is no original sin, no fundamental heart posture that grace must deal with first before a student can properly remember, understand, and love what he or she was created to remember, understand, and love. Man was created to know and worship God, and to take all that God has given within creation as a means to bring more glory to Him. This can only be done in and through Jesus, by whom and for whom and through whom all things were made. This requires a Christian philosophy of education, a Christ-centered understanding of how this world works and for whom it exists, a pedagogy founded on the Gospel. Only from such a philosophy, only by practically loving wisdom as Scripture defines wisdom, can we make progress toward a doxological pedagogy — an education centered on the praise and adoration of Christ.

To help us develop such an understanding, we turn first to the Convivio. In this lesser known work Dante attempted to place and define philosophy within the broader scope of life lived beneath the authority of God. Many have said that it was a viewpoint he later repudiated in the Commedia, but I do not think this is correct. In the philosophic explorations of the Convivio, Dante elaborated extensively both on the great usefulness and importance of right philosophy, but defined her upper limitations as well. Philosophy has a place of authority within the spheres of understanding; but philosophy is not the final teacher. As we will see in part here, and more clearly in the Commedia, only right worship, with philosophy as an instrument, can bring us to our final end, our ultimate telos.

For those unfamiliar with what Roman Roads has to offer, we have an array of excellent texts and curricula, including

Old Western Culture: a fully integrated, 9-12th grade humanities course, touching on literature, philosophy, history, theology, and more, complete with a 16-volume set of original texts, spanning from Homer and Vergil to Jane Austen and CS Lewis;

Calculus for Everyone: a text that gets to the heart of why Calculus works… and why it is important;

Dante Curriculum: an in-depth, canto-by-canto consideration of one of Christendom’s greatest achievements, Dante’s Divine Comedy, from a solidly Christian perspective;

Fitting Words: a course in the classical art of formal rhetoric, training students to speak powerfully and elegantly;

Picta Dicta: A Latin curriculum in which students learn through all four language pathways (reading, writing, speaking, and hearing), making it both more enjoyable for them to learn and easier to retain. 

Furthermore, we have a growing collection of standalone works, such as Cicero’s On Duties, Dr. Gordon Wilson’s Darwin’s Sandcastle, Elizabeth Landis’ The Forgotten Realm: Civics for American Christians, and Christiana Hale’s Deeper Heaven: A Reader’s Guide to CS Lewis’s Ransom Trilogy, plus several more.