Featured Article:

 A Celebration of Christian Humanism  (Part 2)

by Edward Chandler, Ph.D.,

Gevena School, Winter Park, FL

Read part 1 of this article here.

There is a misconception—common among Christians—that “humanism” by its very nature is opposed to Christian orthodoxy, since humanism inevitably values the things of man over the things of God (to the extent that it acknowledges God at all). As I described in part 1 of this series, there is (very broadly speaking) a brand of humanism, namely secular humanism, that indeed does see itself in this way and therefore seeks to banish religion (and especially Christianity) from the marketplace of ideas. These secular humanists have had a great deal of success in this endeavor: for example, redefining the concept of “separation of church and state” to mean, effectively, evacuation of religion from public life. So, one of the results of this so-called humanist redefinition is public schools, colleges, and universities—which we all subsidize via taxation—that strive largely for godlessness in the name of separation of church and state.

Yet in my article, I took issue with the assertion that humanism is inherently secular, making a Christological and anthropological case for Christian humanism. Specifically, I argued that Christian humanism is the only real humanism, because it is the only form of humanism that accounts for God’s own humanism, which he demonstrated in the most excellent way by himself becoming human, and by drawing humanity into participation in his divine nature. Having some understanding of this theological basis for humanism (the point of my last article) is foundational for what it means to be a real humanist. And since a real humanist is a Christian humanist, henceforth in this article I will no longer qualify the word “humanist” with the adjective “Christian,” since the former properly implies the latter. When we grasp what it truly means to be a humanist, it is not difficult to discern why alternative forms of humanism err, since they minimize, ignore, or altogether deny its Christological and anthropological basis. But having this understanding is just the beginning of a larger story.

While in the broad sense of the term it can be said that there have been “humanists” of varying stripes throughout the history of western civilization (for example, the “ethical humanist” Irving Babbitt called Plato and Aristotle humanists), the word itself appears not to have arisen until the late 1400’s, during the Renaissance in Italy, where it was used as an epithet for those who knew and studied the classics. Renaissance means “rebirth,” and that period of western history was indeed a rebirth of the relative cultural (though not necessarily political) unity and flourishing of life and learning that had occurred under the Roman and Byzantine Empires. Rome, however, had long since fallen to the barbarian hordes, and Byzantium had cast its gaze to the east, ultimately succumbing to the Islamic conquest, and for hundreds of years Europe had been fragmented. Learning and art in Europe continued (contrary to some popular expositions of this time period), but rather than being a general feature of western culture, it was centered mostly around the monastery. In a very real sense, the general populace did experience a “dark age” of sorts.

During the Renaissance, western Europe experienced a veritable explosion of pent-up creative energies. Though not every aspect of the Renaissance is salutary, it is clear that art, literature, music, and science all experienced an explosive “new birth.” But just as a newborn child is not new in the absolute sense of the word—each and every child both materially and immaterially takes after its parents and ancestors in real, recognizable ways—so the Renaissance was not itself absolutely new. Part of the driving force behind the Renaissance was the “rediscovery” of classical modes of thought and art. The Renaissance artists, poets, and scholars in large part did not create something new, but rather recaptured what had been handed down by their ancestors—they recaptured tradition—and enlarged it with their own creative energies (we need here think only of Dante or da Vinci or Erasmus). Much of what was recaptured falls under the category of the humanities, i.e., the human arts of literature, history, theology, philosophy (including natural philosophy which would lead to modern science), language, poetry, and the various visual and performing arts.

Hence the term “humanists,” who were called such not because of an inordinate focus on human things, but rather because of their picking up and carrying on the tradition of the humanities. Now, when we read or hear the word “humanities,” we likely think of gothic architecture, stone façades, and ivy-covered walls looking out on idyllic common areas, or some analogous imagery—we think, that is, of the college or university, where the humanities are still pursued in some sense of the word. I have never met anyone who objected to the term “humanities” as descriptive of a legitimate category of academic or cultural pursuit. It bears mentioning, then, that the term “humanities” is both practically and etymologically related to the term “humanist,” since it is the humanist who studies and contributes to the humanities, an activity that naturally falls under the heading of “humanism.” These three related terms—humanities, humanist, and humanism—are are all valid descriptors of what was happening during and after the Renaissance, who was making it happen, and why. And having captured the modes of thought and art of the classical period, history shows that education during and after the Renaissance followed suit: for the most part, the Renaissance approach to education was built upon the classical modes so well described by Mr. Clark earlier in this issue.

Recently, however, western education in general and American education in particular has entered into what, from a classical and Renaissance point of view, might be termed a “dark age.” The secular strain of humanism long ago lost sight of the divine humanism of which I have written, and combined their skepticism with a healthy dose of pragmatism to create the increasingly godless climate of the American public schools and universities, a model that most private educational institutions (even originally Christian institutions) have regrettably followed. Even before I became an educator I would occasionally hear stories of Christian teachers in the public schools who would find ways to bring some glimmer of their faith into their instruction, and the reprimands and lost jobs that would sometimes ensue. As an educator, I hear that story more frequently, but the very fact that teachers are forced to evacuate their faith from their instruction and even in some cases from their professional ethics brings us to yet another member of the “human-” word-family: the word humanize.

To humanize is “to conform (someone/something) to human nature, i.e., to civilize or refine.” If, as I described last month, being human has everything to do with God’s image in man, then humanization in the proper sense of the word involves conforming someone or something to the expression of the imago dei in humanity. Modern secularists, in contrast to this, seek to remove these things from education, and to the extent that they are successful they dehumanize both themselves and their students. If part of the task of the humanist is to humanize, then secularists are failing miserably, and the cost is immeasurable for the poor souls under their tutelage. But contrary to the secularists, there is no such thing as “mere humanity.” To assert otherwise is inhumane, that is, “not characterized by behavior towards others as befits a human being.”

 While the light of classical education never completely went out, it certainly was reduced to the status of a smoldering wick. The contemporary classical education “movement” is a self-conscious reaction against the modern dark age of education that I described earlier in this article. It would, however, be a poor movement that defined itself negatively in terms of what it was reacting against. The inheritance of the humanities that has been bequeathed to us by our Classical and Renaissance forebears is much too valuable to leave it at that. Classical education exists in our day positively to (re)claim that inheritance and to enlarge it, for the glory of God and the good of mankind. Insofar as we remain faithful to our founding principles, we in our day participate in a “mini-Renaissance.” May this miniature version in which we now participate flourish also into a full-orbed rebirth of faith and learning. {end]

Read part 1 of this article here.

Archived Feature Articles

▪ January 2010: A Celebration of Christian Humanism (Part 1)

▪ November 2009: That Shriveled Grind: On Reading To Children

▪ October 2009: The Devil's Ground: A Look At a New Biography of Flannery O'Connor

▪ September 2009: Why Pragmatism Doesn't Work, by Andrew Kern

More Articles

▪ The Sayers Essay: The Lost Tools of Learning

▪ Classical Home Schooling: Where We Came From, Where We’re Going
Classical education, of course, is nothing new. In this article, Andrew Kern explains what exactly classical education is, and he traces how classical education has been reclaimed by the movement as we know it today—particularly through the work of Mortimer Adler, Dorothy Sayers, and others.

▪ Teaching Classical Literature Classically
We teach classical literature because it exposes our students to models of virtue. Andrew Kern explains how through teaching good literature, we can help our children develop poetic knowledge, an intuitive knowledge of the nature of things. He advises parents to read to their children—or have their children read—at a level beyond what they can decode in phonetics, and to read the texts themselves, not about the texts.

▪ How to Teach Logic
Martin Cothran shows how, since logic is a systematic subject, the teaching of logic must follow a determined order. He answers many questions about teaching logic: When should I start teaching my child logic? What are the differences between formal and material logic? Between deductive and inductive reasoning? What are some important rules that govern the study of logic?

▪ Order and Simplicity
These days, many home school parents feel overwhelmed with the enormous amount of teaching materials on the market. Martin Cothran explains how to find order and simplicity in the midst of this classical chaos.

▪ Two Methods of Instruction
Andrew Kern explains the meaning of the two methods of classical instruction, the Didactic and the Dialectic Modes. The Didactic method presents models for mutual contemplation, while the Dialectic Mode concerns the “relentless pursuit of truth through unceasing questions.” Asking questions is the most effective method for training the mind, and it’s central to both of these methods. 

▪ Angelicum Academy (one of the finest, most thoughtful articles on what the term classical education means)

▪ Ankerberg and Veith: Classical Education and Lutheran Schools (warmly recommended)

▪ Basil the Great: Address to Young Men on Reading Greek Literature (incredibly relevant arguments for classical education from this fourth century Church Father).

▪ The Classical Trivium Remains the Best Course of Learning (from the Ashbrook Center)

▪ Foundations Academy: Understanding the Classical & Christian Difference

▪ Fritz Hinrichs: Why Classical Education?

▪ Ben House: A History of Classical Education

▪ "The Homeless Modern"

▪ How to pick the perfect private school

▪ Intelligence Plus Character: The Importance of Classical Christian Education (by Chuck Colson)

▪ An Invitation to Repentance--(On the beginning of Lent)

▪ Liberal Education and the Classical Curriculum--The Yale Report of 1828

▪ Remarks on the Classical Education of Boys (1830’s newspaper photo)

▪ What Happened to the Great Ideas? (an essay on Mortimer Adler and Paideia)

▪ What is classical education? Structure and Pedagogy (Biola University)

▪ Wikipedia