We've all heard Andrew Kern say it before, right? In order to educate a child well, we must teach from a state of rest. When I first heard him say that, I thought the idea was laughable.
C.S. Lewis (1898-1963) was arguably the most influential Christian thinker of his time, and his thought has long outlasted him. It would be difficult indeed to find someone who has had more influence than Lewis on the modern classical education renewal. From his great works of fiction (The Chronicles of Narnia, Out of the Silent Planet, The Great Divorce, and The Screwtape Letters) to his books on Christianity and education (Mere Christianity and The Abolition of Man, to name a couple), Lewis has had a long reach.
Owen Strachan recently made some interesting observations about the relationship between classical education and freedom. And, while the original post seems to be experiencing some technical difficulties, Dr. Gene Edward Veith has reposted it for us on his own blog, Cranach. Thanks to you both, gentlemen!
By Owen Strachan, originally in The American Spectator:
Let us suppose that we are educating children with an eye to the kingdom of Heaven and with the hope that it might positively affect the culture we swim in. If that is so, it seems to me that we need to
I woke to the smell of bacon and coffee, familiar and pleasant and full of the promise of a new adventure. Rolling out of my sheet, I tossed my legs to the floor and dragged my boots towards me with my right foot. I slipped into the jeans draped over the foot of the bed and put the boots on. A crooked, bent white hat hung from the bed post, a red and white flannel draped beneath it. I slung the hat cockeyed onto my matted hair and quickly buttoned the shirt. The gun, a fully loaded white handled revolver, rested under my pillow.
This post is presented by our friends over at Story Warren.
Family tradition says my dad’s youngest sister once believed she could fly. To prove it, she climbed the stairs and leapt from the top.
Predictably, she flew only a little way (mostly down), and rolled the rest of the way. Hilariously (according to her siblings), she did not stop at the bottom of the stairs, but revolved onward until she disappeared into a laundry cupboard.
In my last post I discussed the importance of form, but one way to understand that practically is by seeing how form directly shapes and guides our understanding of content.
I find myself thinking that criticism, when it is justified at all, still arises from impatience. Or mabye it is better to say that a critical spirit, justified or not, arises from impatience.
We are critical when we assume the position of the judge.