Trinitas Blog

When Janice and I visited Trinitas Christian School at the invitation of Justice Ken Bell (father of three Trinitas alums) fourteen years ago, it wasn’t because we were looking for classical education. We were looking for Christian education to be sure, but we didn’t even know enough about classical education to ask a good question about it. Seeing was believing for us that day though, and one tour of the school during a normal day of classes convinced us that this classical education was worth a try.

So let’s imagine we’ve been recruited to play a game. We didn’t volunteer, we were recruited. Saying no wasn’t an option. In this game we get dropped off in a strange alternate reality where we understand nothing. The people are speaking our language, but they’re using a lot of words and phrases and references we don’t understand. They only laugh at us when we ask questions, but mostly they ignore us. There are a dozen of us so we have some comfort in our numbers, but none of us understands how to get along in this strange place. Before we were dropped off in this alternate reality, we were told that to win the game, to get back home, we must make it to the Good City, and to be careful along the way. We were given no map and no further instruction.

When thinking of the past, we often find ourselves in one of two precarious positions: veneration or disdain. Looking back on those “good ole days” can cause us to miss out on the gifts of God before us now. Do we, like Saul, desperately seek to evade the consequences of today by reaching out to the ghosts of the past? Or are we more like Ajax, holding silently onto old grudges, forsaking forever a chance for restoration to a friend and comrade? Surely these are not the only ways to view what has gone before us? Is there a way to recall the past with glorifying it unnecessarily, or treating as an experiment in regret?

“I wasted time and now doth time waste me.” This is the lament of Shakespeare’s King Richard II. He was an idle and indecisive king whose crown was stolen from him because he wasted his past, and as he speaks these words he anticipates living out the rest of his days in prison or exile.  Another of Shakespeare’s great figures, Hamlet, is also famous for wasting time. After the ghost of his father appears and burdens him with the urgent task of vengeance, Hamlet spends the next four acts of the play finding excuses not to go through with it, because he fears what the future might hold.

We spend a lot of time thinking about our future.  People ask you what you want to be when you grow up? Where are you going to college? What are you going to do with your life? What job do you want? There is much we don’t know for certain about our future. But today I want to tell you something about your future.

In the last post we anticipated what habits would help husbands and fathers to be oriented toward the life of the home in ways that produce good fruit. What follows is not comprehensive. In fact it may seem simple, but simple things are often most important because they are most basic to life: plants need watering to live, pets need feeding to flourish, and man, well, man needs spiritual habits to cultivate holiness.

If you are Christian Educator, you are an idealist by nature. In your mind, students should have a passionate/ burning desire to learn. You want your classes abuzz with vibrant discussion and thought provoking dialogue. You expect your students to be fully prepared coming into every class. Even more, as the teacher, you hope that they come with questions that challenge you and push you to become a better communicator of truth.

At least this was my mindset entering into a teaching career. But after a few years of teaching, I was completely disabused of my idealist tendencies. None of my expectations panned out. I found that students were often frustrated with the learning process. My classes were not vibrant centers for discussion and thought provoking dialogue. Students (the majority of them) were not prepared for class. And as for being challenged by my students, I found myself more jaded as a teacher than spurred on.

The parent of a senior shared this story with me this week. The scene – after school; the student has something in a plastic bag.

Parent: “Whatcha got?”

Student: “Oh. That’s my… robe and……… helmet.” (Cap and gown)

Parent: “Classically trained, indeed.”