If one apprehends true beauty as beauty, one must love and therefore one must forget himself in that moment. This is what Longinus (and much later, C. S. Lewis) called “sublime.” Calling something which is truly beautiful merely “pretty” is treasonous to truth.

Having swum deeply in the waters of theological studies, and having dipped my toes into CCE, I noticed some similarities between the study of theology and the pedagogy of the Trivium. This article sets forth an analogy between these two realms, aiming to explain the basics of classical pedagogy for theologians who desire future involvement in CCE.

Many people who are technically able to read are basically illiterate because to do anything more than read a sentence or two is extremely mentally taxing to them. The overuse of visual and auditory media has rendered reading unpalatable to far too many.

You may not have recognized it when you read those stories in class, but your teachers were doing more than accompanying you through a story; they were laying a foundation for a virtuous child of God at age 25, 35, or 45 to harken back to when things become harder than anticipated.

Tradition gains value and weight as it is passed on again and again. It is much harder to jettison a 2,000-year-old commonplace than a 20-year-old slogan. The longer something has been repeatedly affirmed as true, good, or beautiful, the more reticent we should be to disregard it.

While we search through the philosophical aspects of a classical education (of great importance of course in its own right), and we seek to ensure the soundness and Christian fidelity of our teaching (also of paramount importance), we must also ensure that we have the proper team in place—including the board, head of school, administrators, teachers, support staff, and volunteers.

Primary sources are simply old books. These books were written about many things. They were written about what was history to them then (though not as far removed to those events as we are now) and about what was contemporary to them at the time (though history to us now). By reading these old books we cut out the middleman, by which I mean the textbook authors.

Protestants contend that grace does not destroy nature, but restores, renews, and redeems. It makes whole and entire what was marred by sin—it perfects. This is a restoration of nature, not a wholly new plane of existence. Grace is that which is granted by revelation and faith. Doctrine is taught in the Scriptures and believed by faith, not proved by rational argument (although it is not illogical).

Because leadership is more easily detected than defined, I have transitioned much of my reading from neatly-packed modern ‘leadership’ books towards biographies, histories, and intellectual genealogies. Because the people of greatest historical importance have the most biographies, there is no shortage of good content for leaders to study no matter their industry.

My argument here is that American classical schools, particularly Protestant ones, should be teaching manual arts to their students. Not only is this allowed by the classical tradition, it is demanded by it in our current context. If Christians are to develop the down-to-earth know-how they’ll need to prosper in the coming years, and to overcome the gravitational pull of screens and disembodiment, they will need to embrace these incarnational arts.