Better Than Unbreakable

I recently read a brilliant illustration. Imagine you wanted to send a priceless wine glass to a friend through the mail. You would find a reinforced box and wrap the glass with thick layers of soft padding. You would double-tape the box and, before sending it, you’d write in all-caps with a fat red Sharpie on multiple sides, “FRAGILE: HANDLE WITH CARE.” The glass is valuable but easily breakable.

What is the opposite of that? As the author of the book observes, and I admit that it was what first came into my mind, most people think the opposite of the wine glass is something such as a hard cover book. Wrap it in a tough box or wrap it with tissue paper, it probably won’t matter. Will the post office be careful with the package? Also, it doesn’t matter. A book can survive a lot and isn’t likely to be busted.

Between the two, which type of student would we want most? Our sixth year Omnibus (a History/Lit/Theology combo) class finished Moby Dick a few weeks ago. I audit the class but am behind in my reading, so I more recently came across this exhortation from Ishmael about halfway through the story; it’s about the benefits of being like a whale.

It does seem to me, that herein we see the rare virtue of a strong individual vitality, and the rare virtue of thick walls, and the rare virtue of interior spaciousness. Oh, man! admire and model thyself after the whale! Do thou, too, remain warm among ice. Do thou, too, live in this world without being of it. Be cool at the equator; keep thy blood fluid at the Pole. Like the great dome of St. Peter’s, and like the great whale, retain, O man! in all seasons a temperature of thine own. (Melville, Herman. Moby-Dick: or, The Whale (pp. 334-335). Penguin Publishing Group)

I like that: an internal temperature of one’s own no matter the season. But, this is not actually the opposite of the wine glass. The book is sturdy, (and, as Melville argues, a whale is self-controlled), and that is good, but sturdy is not the opposite of fragile. The opposite of easily breakable would be some substance or some product that not only survives, it gets better being knocked around. Imagine writing on the outside of the box: “MISHANDLE LIKE NOBODY’S BUSINESS!” By the time the package arrived, having been thrown against walls and dropped on the floor and kicked out of the truck, the contents have gained value, not lost it. This is more than robust, this is antifragile (which is the name of the book I’m reading).

The principle applies to many domains: economies, governments, science, health, as well as education and individual persons/students. A number of things benefit from some stress, from some tension, from some difficulty. This affects what kind of persons we want to be. It affects what kind of persons we want our students to become.

Our society is doing a great job at making fragile persons, including Generation Snowflake that needs puppy petting therapy rooms in order to recover from hearing a new idea, especially one that challenges long-held but shallow-rooted assumptions. Written on the side of our schools: “Fragile: Don’t touch.”

It doesn’t need to be that way.

My wife regularly says, though she doesn’t claim to have come up with it, that we ought to be preparing our kids for the road and not preparing the road for our kids. Parents want their kids to do well, to succeed, to pass them. But this doesn’t happen by making everything smooth and easy. Our kids will succeed not when we’ve put enough padding around them that they “survive.” Besides, we can actually do better than making them sturdy. What if we trained them in such a way that when the world throws crazy things at them they thrive?

This is our mission at ECS. The school board finalized our mission statement last summer.

We commend the works of the Lord to another generation with the tools of classical education, weaponized laughter, and sacrificial labors so that they will carry and advance Christ-honoring culture.

This is a battle. It requires wisdom to really see a culture, it requires strength to carry a culture, it requires wisdom and strength and courage and hope to advance a culture.

The world is certainly offering her alternative to a Christ-honoring culture. The chaos and the volatility that come with denying the Lordship of Christ is bad, but, for the right kind of person, such chaos is the perfect opportunity. The culture of unbelief is hostile, but it is also self-defeating. It can’t stand on its own; it has to borrow any truth it depends on. Our students are being equipped not merely to withstand the attack, but to take advantage of every weakness in the system and tip it over.

Such training requires a variety of things, including the “tools of classical education.” This is an old pedagogy, with a Dorothy Sayers twist that emphasizes certain parts of training with certain ages of development. There are three categories of these tools considered under the heading of the Trivium (one of the things that goes into the Classical school difference): Grammar, Dialectic/Logic, and Rhetoric.

Antifragile students know their facts. They know that there are only three grammatical genders: masculine, feminine, and neuter. They live in a world of “he”s and “she”s and “it”s. What an advantage to distinguish male and female and not only when choosing a restroom or hooking up a sound system. They know that two plus two equals four, all the time, because God made it that way. Our youngest students sing about the Bible and about the catechism and about the parts of speech because they love to sing and because they don’t have any doubt about God’s good gifts in creation. This is the Grammar stage.

Antifragile students test their arguments as well as the advertising propaganda shot at them. They know that syllogisms can be valid, but not sound, yet we’re looking for both. They live in a world of good, better, and best, and are learning to distinguish which is which according to created categories and according to the standard of God’s Word. This is the Logic stage.

Antifragile students express their ideas. They’ve assembled truth and assessed what is good and they prepare to adorn their persuasions. They are polishing their prose, poetry, and presentations. “Rhetoric is the class that’s trying to turn [a student] into a leader” (Rebekah Merkle, Classical Me, Classical Thee). This is the Rhetoric stage.

We train students in the grammar stage to be curious, to love to collect and chant (HIC HAEC HOC!). We train students in the logic stage to be (a good sort of) contrarian, to love to correct and question. And we train students in the rhetoric stage to be creative, to love producing and shaping not just consuming and being shaped.

All of these things together work toward making courageous, Christ-loving, Christ-honoring students. We need young men and women who can choose well and advance at crosswords we as parents and teachers can’t currently see. We’re working to equip students who get stronger by figuring things out, with a deadline, with others depending on them.

I love C.S. Lewis’ quote about how favorable conditions never come. “The only people who achieve much are those who want knowledge so badly that they seek it while the conditions are still unfavourable. Favourable conditions never come.” We want students who want unfavorable conditions anyway. It’s not inconsequential that it was Bard (a synonym for poet) the Bowman who shot down the dragon Smaug in The Hobbit, and it’s not just coincidence that the only time Smaug’s weak spot showed is when he was flying and attacking.

At ECS we are laboring, with laughter, to produce a certain kind of antifragile person who is “impossible to sneak up on” (Merkle), who is part of a community of those who not only are not easily broken, but who relish the opportunities to build in a broken world.


These notes are from my talk at the 2018 Information Night.

In the Middle of It

Showing up at Disneyland on a whim is good. But maximizing your Disneyland experience involves a bit of planning and prioritizing. Intentionality, even. Your school experience is the same.

First, a disclaimer. By the remarks that follow, I do not mean to suggest that we have arrived at our philosophical or cultural destination. Neither do I wish to suggest that we’re awesome in and of ourselves. It is unmistakable, however, that God has blessed ECS beyond our most presumptuous requests, and He’s done so using lots of crazy means, like people, curriculum and the gospel. We cannot take credit for any of this, even though we’ve been in the middle of it.

Rather, I say this as one who has been shaped and grown in staggering and unexpected ways the last six years, as both a teacher and as a parent who is trying to navigate some unfamiliar waters…and I’m very glad to be joined by some pretty good swimmers.

Parents, I believe that your intentional investment in our school’s culture is good for you and your children. You get to know the people who are pouring into your children and you get to be a part of making the culture better. That said, I would like to suggest (in no particular order) some ways that you can maximize your family’s experience with Evangel Classical School.

Stay for Matins.

Matins sets the tone for the day at ECS. I love seeing all the Raggants in one place, excited to start the day. More than once their enthusiasm has swept me up and my hurried heart has been warmed and filled. When you come to drop off your student, consider sticking around until about 9:07 to see the school come together, to get to join some happy treble voices in a hymn or psalm, to be reminded of our Creed, and to pray. You can even give one more hug before sending them off to first period.

Get out of your car after school.

I love Matins, but the 3:00 hour is my favorite part of the school day, and not just because the lessons are over. I enjoy our people rubbing off on one another, sharing thoughts, victories, struggles and stories while the Raggants scamper about filling the air with giggles and footballs.

Some administrators get nervous when they see a knot of moms yammering in the parking lot. I love it.

Take some time to talk and visit and brainstorm and just enjoy the other school families. Odds are you’ll leave encouraged.

Have your child’s teacher over for dinner.

Relationships are important, and spending time cultivating a relationship with the person who is investing in your child is well spent. What’s more, when we are engaged in the sort of heart-work demanded of education, there are bound to be opportunities to practice forgiveness, and that’s easier when the relationships have been strengthened.

I would rather have the ECS teachers than any teaching staff on the planet, and it’s not just for sentimental reasons. They are a gift to our school and our families, and getting to know them (and their spouses) is wise. You’ll get to show your appreciation for them, and they’ll get to know you and your students better, better enabling them to serve you.

Read your Raggant’s literature books.

I love talking with my children about the books they’re reading, and even more so when I’m familiar with the books. I’m able to help them make sense of what they’re reading and discuss themes, issues and characters.

If your child is in Omnibus and you cannot keep up with that reading load, consider at least reading the introductions to the text in the Omnibus textbook. (Ask your students what I mean; they can tell you). You’ll be better equipped to help and support your student while also getting some great worldview training yourself.

Besides, many of us are (righteously, of course) jealous of what our children are getting; this is one small way to make up for lost time and opportunities.

Tell a friend about the school.

When you tell others about ECS, you may find yourself forced to articulate the school’s vision and mission. This is always a good exercise.

It’s a normal Christian practice to gush to others about the stuff we love. Hopefully you feel this way about the school.

Pray for the teachers and other families.

Praying for people impacts my attitude toward them. It grows my compassion and helps to align my own attitudes as I go to God on their behalf. What’s more, it’s loving and obedient…two things we’d like to see in our children.

Visit a class unannounced.

This may be hard to believe, but I mean it. When I drop in on classes, I always leave encouraged, and I trust you would, too. Perhaps you’d like to hear Mr. Higgins’ Nacho Libre impersonations or how Mr. Bowers makes Prince Henry the Navigator a fascinating character. Perhaps you want to learn how Miss Bour puts awesome dance moves to the Bible songs or eavesdrop while Omnibus students discuss Just War Theory.

We love having parents around the school, so you’re most welcome to drop in.

And there’re likely more ideas, and I’d be glad to hear them all. The more we’re investing in our school community, the better it will be, and the more we’ll get out of it.

Risus est bellum!

Jonathan