On the Use of Fairy Stories in Communal Education

Education in a diverse community introduces difficulties that don't exist (or exist less characteristically) within an individual family. Parents have particular convictions and affections, which they pass on to their children directly and indirectly. When parents collaborate with one another to educate their children, whether in a co-op or in a school, they bring not only the convictions and affections they share, but also those that differ. An important conversation involves discovering what differences are irresolvable, but that's a conversation for another time. Assuming that differences do not pose irresolvable difficulties:

What can families do to help one another stay united in the education of their children?

Sharing common stories offers a means for navigating differences, because shared stories can help people identify wise, virtuous principles and choices in the midst of their differences. In lived reality wise, virtuous principles and choices become confused by the naturally limited perspective of humans and by selfish desires that oppose wisdom and virtue. Fairy stories provide the kind of story well-suited to discover wisdom and virtue since they involve normal characters in abnormal adventures that put vices and virtues on display clearly and distinctly. Fairy stories do not involve ambiguity about what is right or wrong, virtuous or vicious, good or evil; and so the reader or listener knows which characters, motives, and behaviors are worthy of emulation, and why; and which characters, motives, and behaviors are worthy of renunciation, and why. Fairy stories inhabit an imaginative moral reality that provides a clear lens through which one may look at his own moral reality, which is harder to evaluate, but made easier with a "fabulous lens".

The Lord of the Rings may not be the greatest story ever told, but because it is a fairy tale accessible to people of all levels of maturity it serves as a clear lens through which to evaluate lived reality. For the sake of the following imaginative experiment, suppose the co-op or school requires all members of every family to read (or be read to) The Lord of the Rings each year as part of their enrollment and re-enrollment. Now suppose two parents differ on the amount of rigor a teacher requires of the students. Suppose as well that the rigor-loving parent and teacher have a wiser perspective than the rigor-doubtful parent. Further suppose the differences between the parents include expectations from within their families and churches, but the educational standards of the co-op or school favors the rigorous position. One could (and should) appeal to theological principles, and to hoped-for family outcomes, but since these are not closely shared, the appeal to a commonly shared story might serve better for understanding and agreement.

How might The Lord of the Rings provide a clear lens in this hypothetical situation?

The rigor-loving parent (or teacher) could remind the rigor-doubtful parent of the Scouring of the Shire. Gandalf, the wise and powerful wizard, leaves the younger, less experienced, and less powerful hobbits (Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin) alone to defeat the numerous enemies who have taken over their homeland. The parent could recall that the hobbits make short work of their enemies--an impossible victory but for the fruit produced in them by the year-long journey to destroy the Ring of Power. One could ask, "What made the hobbits brave enough, temperate enough, wise enough, strong enough, and just enough to defeat their enemies without becoming evil themselves?" Of course it was the much greater trials they suffered together on the quest under the tutelage of more mature souls. If the purpose of education is to grow wise,  virtuous, and strong, then teachers should strive to provide to children with opportunities to do things that are beyond their powers to perform easily, perfectly, without the possibility for failure, or without the need to rely upon more mature souls to guide them.

It is not certain that such appeals would be successful, but where shared stories persist, and especially where they are loved and admired, fodder for such encouragement remains available in ways that transcend the differences within the community.

The Intellectual Life as Intellectual Labor, Chapter 2

Sertillanges begins chapter two ("the virtues of the intellect") in Augustinian fashion, by identifying personhood with love: one is what one loves (or phenomenologically, one becomes what one loves). Intellectuals are (or ought to be) lovers of Truth, and therefore servants to Truth, and therefore submissive to Truth's commands.

Submission requires an active directing of passions and moral habits. They must be conformed to the demands that the love of Truth requires. Because of this, Virtue is necessary to the intellectual life as a purifier of the soul-in-service-to-Truth.

The particular virtues that aid intellectual pursuit include studiousness. Studiousness may be understood as diligent continuance of thought directed toward a question of truth. Temperance of mind is another virtue of the intellectual life. Temperance avoids the sloth of negligence as well as the pride of vain curiosity. Temperance aids the soul in avoiding taking up too little (malnourishment) or taking on too much (gluttony).

The vehicle of virtue is prayer. Indeed, prayer may be considered both a propaedeutic to study as well as the vessel by which the Spirit conveys the intellect to the Truth. To arrive at Truth is to arrive at God, the fount, headspring, source. The intellectual comes to the Truth through the effulgence of truths and this requires the humble acknowledgment of Truth as God's own to give, and it requires the humility to ask and receive wisely and freely.

The humility of prayer extends to the body. The body is our own unique tool and charge in the pursuit of Truth. The health and vitality of the body must be maintained to elicit the health and vitality of the mind, and it is often through the body that the mind is able to receive Truth.

For instance, think about the importance of memory for the receipt and retention of Truth. With music one must keep in the memory those notes that have passed out of hearing in order to understand, anticipate, and appreciate the notes that follow. One of the cultivators of memory is the body. Consider the difference of trying to memorize who my "riding partners" by repeating over and over again in the mind their names, as opposed to remembering them by riding with them once and then being responsible to remember them for the next time. The bodily experience of taking a trip together lends itself to the mind more potently than the abstraction of repeated names.

Love, studiousness, temperance, prayer, and bodily care constitute the chief virtues of the Intellectual Life.

The Intellectual Life as an Intellectual Labor, Chapter 1

In the first chapter of his book, The Intellectual Life, Sertillanges peers into the facets of the intellectual vocation. Three conclusions emerge: the intellectual has a sacred call, he does not stand alone, and belongs to his own time.

One cannot pursue the intellectual life who has not at least the smallest spark of desire for the discovery of Truth for its own beauty as opposed to some self-directed end. In other words, the intellectual doesn't search for truth so that he can do something with it for himself, but because the truth is worth knowing (he must do something with the truth, but that is the secondary and unselfish in nature, as will be seen below). The same Spirit that invested Bezalel and called Oholiab to design the tabernacle and carry out its construction invests men with the intellectual vocation. No Spirit, no vocation.

Sertillanges emphasizes the value of solitude for the intellectual, but he does not equate solitude with isolation. Isolation is poisonous to the intellectual life. The Spirit that fills the intellectual also fills the body of Christ, and so the intellectual who is not participating in the life of that Body is cut off from the Spirit and from a necessary constituent of the intellectual vocation. He draws from the Body as well as contributing to it.

Not only the Church, but also the City and his Time are communities in which the intellectual lives and serves. Although the intellectual touches all points of time through his study, he is uniquely set within the time and place where he lives, and must be attentive to the characteristics, needs, and opportunities his time and place afford. The intellectual looks back to draw upon history so that he may serve in the now and open an avenue for the communities of the future. There is a kind of universal horizon of koinonia among past, present, and future that the intellectual stewards by his labor.

The Intellectual Life as an Intellectual Labor, Introduction

This month a book club I participate in is reading A.G. Sertillanges' book, The Intellectual Life. The book is a lengthy meditation on and preparation for the life given by the book's title. I've read it once before and was excited by many of its insights, but I've not made much conscious use of them (I do hope some profitable unconscious effects have been produced!). This time around I'm attempting to be more intentional in my approach. The remaining post is an outline of that intention.

Phase I: Tilling & Sowing

In the first phase of reading The Intellectual Life, I'll be writing meditative summaries of the book's chapters after reading each one. Sertillanges' book is very well organized and lends itself to easy summary. The ease is dangerous, however, since it would be deceptive to think that one has profited by summarizing the points of each chapter and its sections. Sertillanges' language is so simple that it gives the appearance of ease, where great difficulty is actually present. Thus, I've added the task of "meditative" to my summaries; allowing room for my thoughts to analogize, apply, question, and so forth, and put all of that into written words. I'll then type the meditative summaries on this blog, critically reviewed and potentially substantively altered.

Phase II: Watering & Weeding

If it can be done, I am hoping to draw in a couple of the other men from book club to develop some specific applications of Sertillanges' book in some aspect of our own lives, whether as part of our individual development, or as a part of our vocations (several of us are teachers, who are paid to pursue an intellectual life, in my opinion). The very first chapter of Sertillanges' book emphasizes the necessity of community both as a necessary part of the intellectual vocation as a productive art (giving it life & health), as well as a recipient of the intellectual vocation's produce (partaking of its fruit). Phase II will be harder to accomplish, but will certainly make the fruit of higher quality and of greater quantity.

Phase III: Harvesting & Feasting

Should the work reach completing, there should be some fruits to be enjoyed and shared with others. There are some vague ideas in my mind of what fruit might result (curricular changes, pedagogical changes, articles written, lectures given, seminars conducted, etc.) but there will be plenty of room for surprise, especially if some non-teachers are able to join in the labor.

Phase IV: Composting & Reproducing

In the wake of our feasting, I hope the leftovers will lead into future activities of like kind, whether they involve repeating The Intellectual Life, or moving on to a different book, or developing an analogous project with some other medium or means of application. This is the vaguest and least imaginable phase, since it is so dependent upon the labors that have only just begun. However, I hope to look back upon this beginning in a few months, or a year, or more, and find that it was not wholly in vain.

Book Log - August & September 2012

Books Bought:

51. Education in Ancient Rome - Stanley F. Bonner. I bought this one to read (eventually) for background on some of the exercises I use for my rhetoric classes.

52. Missionary Methods: St. Paul's or Ourms? - Roland Allen. I bought this upon recommendation of a pastor friend of mine. I'm currently reading it and finding it very eye-opening and thought-provoking.

53. Koheleth: The Man and His World - Robert Gordis. I cannot remember who recommended this book to me, but it looks to be a promising resource on Ecclesiastes.

Books Read:

37. Reforming Marriage - Douglas Wilson. I remember my pastors in Texas referring to this book as the one that says, "it's the husband's fault." They were jesting, of course, but Wilson's take on marriage is very "federal." I appreciate that, although many find it offensive for this or that reason.

38. The Silver Chair - C. S. Lewis. I read this book to the boys in early August before school. They have been listening to the dramatized versions of the Chronicles of Narnia all summer, so I thought they'd be willing to sit through the book. They did lose a bit of steam, but enjoyed it for the most part.

39. On Secular Education - R. L. Dabney. I read this in preparation for a board meeting that is upcoming. It is a very prescient treatment of the issues of State-run education, and of the necessity for Christian education.

40. Cassiodorus: Institutions of Divine and Secular Learning and On the Soul - Halporn and Vessey. I read this book to get some background on classical education. It was helpful, although I really only skimmed it, rather than reading it closely.

41. The Word of God and the Mind of Man - Ronald Nash. This is a book I've had for awhile that I nabbed when one of my pastors was liquidating some of his library. It is a decent book for what it covers, but it isn't as profound as Gordon Clark (Nash's mentor). The ideas are helpful though, and probably more palatable to some than Clark's works.

42. Wordsmithy - Douglas Wilson. I read this upon the recommendation of one of my former students. It was a quick and enjoyable treatment, with lots of helpful advice. I don't always appreciate Wilson's persistent attempts to be pithy, but it works very well for this sort of book.