Recently author and speaker
delivered the 2024 Erasmus Lecture at the annual First Things conference, which was aptly titled, Against Christian Civilization (listen here or here). In it he explored the error of the idea that all Christians have a sacred duty or obligation to better the world through the building up of civilizational power structures. Focus on Christ, was his message, and let the rest be secondary. This is pretty basic Christian teaching.But why, we might ask, is it problematic to work to build civilization? Isn’t that a good thing? Why wouldn’t we want to live in such a way as to help bring about a society built on Christian values and virtues?
This misunderstanding of purpose, or teleology, is at the heart of what we wrote about in our book Patterns for Life. Just as the purpose of education is not to produce a product that conforms to an externally imposed standard, but to nurture an icon of Christ, our posture towards society should not be to build civilization in the form of institutions and external power structures, but to nurture culture: stable and lasting bonds of intimacy between icons of Christ, sealed by the common worship of the Triune God. It is not only possible, but historically verifiable, that robust Christian culture can exist within a civilization that does not share its teleology. This is, in fact, the origin story of Christianity.
Here’s the thing: when we focus on the act of building civilization as a fulfillment of religious obligation – when we focus on the outcome – we place the responsibility for success or failure on our own shoulders rather than leaving the increase to God. We tell ourselves that if we work hard enough and order things in the right way we will have done a good work for the glory of God; we will have helped to advance His kingdom by following the rules. Notice how the focus is no longer on Christ, the One Thing Needful. One might even call this the beginnings of idolatry.
Further, when we build civilization in this way, we take the “shoulds” we perceive to be the obvious out-workings of Christian behavior and we work to impose them on the future by organizing our present around plans and principles designed to produce the desired outcome. We shift our focus from the ontological Reality of the Triune God, known to us as Love and by Love, and instead turn towards a religion of mere morality. We trust in the laws to save and preserve, when it is Christ who descends into hell and rescues our very souls.
This idolatry comes from a place of fear. It might not have the usual flavor of fear, but the underlying assumption behind following rules and setting up systems is that there exists a strict formula for success. If we get it right we will have attained utopia, but that’s not the message Christ has given us. He doesn’t want robots programmed with the correct directives. He wants free brothers and sisters living the fullness of the image of God for which they were created. The fear of God is the beginning of wisdom, but it is only the starting place that spurs us to repentance. We’re supposed to grow out of fear into Love.
This is the perennial temptation of education, and it is built off of the deep connection between the education of the children and the governing of the polis. We look for the right philosophy and implement the right methods with the proper underlying principles and we expect our children to grow into our idea of virtuous citizens, ready to engage politically in appropriate ways. Some educational systems even promise to make our children “elite”— a word that should send a shiver of dread down to the bones of any truly Christian parent. A young adult who thinks of himself as elite has not begun to till the humus of his soul, but instead has allowed a very dangerous weed to grow. Can one really be elite and humble at the same time? Perhaps when one has become very wise — but this kind of wisdom and discernment cannot be created by curriculum.
Pride is the sneakiest of temptations, because so often it hides behind a beautiful mask. We want the best for our children, and so we turn to education. We pursue Truth, Goodness, and Beauty. We cultivate virtue. We spread an intellectual feast. We set up schools. We go to church. We vote.
And by doing all these right things we expect that we will see the right results. We expect control over the outcome. We go forth eagerly to do a good work (of our choosing), and we forget that it is God who gives the increase.
Naturally, as loving parents who care deeply about the well-being of our children, we desire the best for them in all things. This includes their education. It is good and right to desire good things for our children and to work toward that end. That is not the problem. The problem is basing our actions on desired outcomes. The thing we want drives the choice we make.
Following so-and-so’s parenting advice will result in well-behaved children.
Following such-and-such nutritional advice will result in healthy children.
Educating a child classically will result in a virtuous human being.
Creating a Christian Civilization will save the world.
But what if the things we want aren’t the most important things Christ wants for us?
How easy it is to slip into this systematic mindset! Placing the emphasis on the end product rather than on the process that manifests as faithfulness to love of God and neighbor (which is really the outpouring of the relationship between ourselves and Christ) allows us to feel like we are in control. The slip is easy and perennial because it requires less of us: It takes the moment to moment, day to day, year to year decisions we all face surrounding child-rearing, education, love of Jesus, and the whole of life itself and mechanizes them so we don’t have to think about them anymore. It puts us on autopilot, hides our sloth under a mask of busy-ness. We want lists of things to do so that we will know we are doing the minimum necessary. The Love of Christ, however, demands that we give up everything and follow Him with no reservations.
None at all. This is what Paul Kingsnorth is reminding us. No reservations, even when we protest that it’s too much to ask, even when we don’t understand the path on which He is leading us.
Christianity is impractical. Impractical, intolerable and awe-ful, in the original sense of that word. It is terrifying, and it is designed to kill you. This is because the values of God and of the world are inimical, as we are repeatedly told by Christ and all the saints. This, surely, is the beautiful mystery at the heart of this thing. God is not mocked. His wisdom is foolishness to the world, and vice versa. What this means to us is that fighting our ‘civilisational war’ in the name of Christ will fail, and catastrophically, because Christ does not fight wars other than those that go on in the heart…
…Love your neighbour. Love your enemy. Love God. Do not resist evil. Lay down your life for your friends. Rule by serving. Give away your wealth. Let the dead bury the dead. We have our orders. And how we hate them. How I hate them. Sometimes I can’t look at them, or at myself in their shadow. And so we twist them. We — all of us — we use them to justify war and resistance and politics and wealth and power and all of the human things that these orders instruct us to walk away from. Oh, yes, I know He said that, we tell ourselves, but He really meant this.
~Paul Kingsnorth, Against Christian Civilization
We say the same thing in our marriages, in our child-rearing, in our educating. We want the systems and the rules instead of crucifying the old self and kneeling to wash the feet of our families. We want to read the Orthodox marriage manual, so we know we’re a good spouse. We want the parenting books and curricula to give us the answers, so that we know exactly what to say and do when situations arise.
“Now wait a minute!” you protest. “Laura and Lisa, you’re always talking about Charlotte Mason’s philosophy and how well it works together with Orthodox praxis. Doesn’t Charlotte Mason advocate for building disciplined habits for exactly that reason: to relieve us of the fatigue of decision making and to automate the process of making good choices? Wouldn’t it be better to have everything all planned out, from the year down to the day to remove the burden of all those decisions?” Yes, indeed she does advocate for building habits.
But this is where we always turn to the corrective of Christ first. The habit of prayer, for example, is a great help, but it is not the fullness of relationship. The habit is a tool, not the purpose. This line between “training good habits” that exist to serve the person and automating processes to serve the system is a fine one, and, as in all sins of pride, it is all too easy to cross it without realizing we’ve done so. Remember the teachings of the Desert Fathers:
Abba Lot went to see Abba Joseph and said to him, ‘Abba, as far as I can, I say my little office, I fast a little, I pray and contemplate, I live in peace and as far as I can, I purify my thoughts. What else can I do?’ Then the old man stood up and stretched his hands towards heaven. His fingers became like ten lamps of fire and he said to him, ‘If you will, you can become all flame.’
This is what we want for our children, for our marriages, for our families. Not material wealth or political success or societal renown. We want the fire of the Holy Spirit to burn within us, until the dross of sin is incinerated and we can stand in the council of saints.
How quick we are to forget that systems of habits and choices are no guarantee of results! And this is why we offer this word of caution to the world of childhood education: Establishing a classical school or an Orthodox school is not a guarantee of success. Neither is a perfectly implemented Charlotte Mason or classical homeschool. There is no guarantee no matter which route we choose. Focusing on systems and desired outcomes, whether in politics, education, or parenting, misses the point entirely. This is why we will say, again and again, that it is the philosophy of Charlotte Mason and the spirit of classical education that matter the most; we are serving small icons of Christ in training, and we owe them much more than material success. We owe them an introduction to the Way, the Truth, and the Life.
If we haven’t scandalized enough already, let’s push this idea even further. The utilitarian posture towards education, towards civilization, towards religion itself is also mirrored in postures toward marriage, children and families. It even hides under the guise of people who seem to agree with us. But Jesus warned us about this — it is not just the actions that matter, but the thoughts and motivations behind the actions. The reasons behind the opinions can make it so that we are not truly in agreement. Take a look:
Why have a civilization? To make institutions (machines) that do the work of making people good. Then they will no longer need a savior.
Why have marriage? To form a stable foundation for civilization. To keep the partners from sexual sin, to preserve the environment for the offspring.
Why have children? To teach them the rules of the institutions, to propagate civilization.
You can (and do) hear arguments against divorce, arguments for having children, that boil down to this formula. These are not Christian arguments for anything. They are merely institutional directives wearing the mask of Christianized religion. They are the many voices of Ivan Karamazov’s Inquisitor, successfully managing society to make enough people happy so that Jesus Christ is no longer necessary.
The true reason for marriage, children and family is simple, but radical. It is Love. When we look to Christ, when we love Him and allow Him to love us, when we dive into the radically transformative nature of this Love, we naturally experience an outpouring of this same Love.
Marriage, the intimate two-souled union of male and female persons, is an icon of this Love. That it resists facile explanations for its necessity shows that it is profound, not that it is wrong. We do not marry because “we have to” — the monastic life shows us that this simply is not true. We marry because, with Christ at the center, marriage is a narrow path that leads us further up and further in, through loving our spouses in the way Christ models for us: by dying for them.
The welcoming of children, the joyful openness to new life with all of the glory and pain it entails, is also an icon of this Love. There are eight point two billion people on this planet — there’s no numerical imperative to make more. God can raise children from the very stones, remember? We do not have children because “we have to.” It is the irresistible draw of the loving, creative, trinitarian energy with which we are filled when we love Christ that leads us into the presence of this mystery. There is no greater purpose to family life than to live the life of salvation — that is, to love, to grow in love, to increase in Love until all of us are saturated with Love. “Acquire the Spirit of Peace, and a thousand souls around you will be saved,” can also be understood as “Acquire the Spirit of Love, and a thousand souls around you will taste and see that the Lord is good.”
Whether we have one child or many more, the purpose is the same: to love them as Christ does. There’s no system here, no purpose of raising them to be fodder for civilizations, no educating them to be elite. When someone gives us political reasons for supporting marriage, having children, or educating them a certain way, we cannot assume they are on our side because they seem to support the things we do. The Spirit matters much more than the form. And in this case, the form without the Spirit is a man-eating ghoul.
has reminded us that civilization will not save us, and we echo this: Neither will education, marriage or childbearing.Only Jesus will.
So, what in the world does this all mean? What does it look like, lived out? Now that we have heard the call to repentance, what are we to do? We want more than the simple answer, “Put Jesus at the center of your life.” We want the details.
One reason why this question is so hard to answer is because when it is lived out fully, it looks different in every life. God did not create us as automatons. Another reason is that sometimes God allows us to suffer so that we may truly repent, and not all faith traditions grapple well with this. Our civilization may crumble, our educational efforts fall flat, our marriages fail, our children may struggle — and we are still called to repent and say, “Glory to God for all things!”
“ARGH!” we cry. “WHAT ARE WE SUPPOSED TO DO?!”
Our suggestion to you is this: Ask Him.
Ask Him again.
Ask Him every morning, every evening, alone and with your families, until He answers. Because He will. The Christian life of prayer is not tried and found wanting; it is not tried because it’s deemed too hard, too boring, not big and important enough, especially for people who see themselves as elite. (Hat tip, G.K. Chesterton.)
But when He answers, “Feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty. Clothe the naked, visit those sick and in prison,” don’t answer that there are civilizational institutions for that. Start with the feeding and visiting in your own home, remembering that visiting is another word for attention and hospitality. As Dr. Timothy Patitsas says in The Ethics of Beauty, when you have a thought about doing good, get up immediately and do it. Extend that to your actual neighbors. Your church family. Your extended family. Your kids’ friends. Your town. Your coworkers. And whatever you do, keep your eyes on Jesus and His Name on your lips.
But the ship was now in the midst of the sea, tossed with waves: for the wind was contrary.
And in the fourth watch of the night Jesus went unto them, walking on the sea. And when the disciples saw him walking on the sea, they were troubled, saying, It is a spirit; and they cried out for fear. But straightway Jesus spake unto them, saying, Be of good cheer; it is I; be not afraid.
And Peter answered him and said, Lord, if it be thou, bid me come unto thee on the water.
And he said, Come.
And when Peter was come down out of the ship, he walked on the water, to go to Jesus. But when he saw the wind boisterous, he was afraid; and beginning to sink, he cried, saying, Lord, save me.
And immediately Jesus stretched forth his hand, and caught him, and said unto him, O thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt?
And when they were come into the ship, the wind ceased. Then they that were in the ship came and worshipped him, saying, Of a truth thou art the Son of God.
Matthew 14:24-33
Thank you for this! Various learning differences run in my husband’s family. My children struggle with what most people consider “the basics” and have other amazing gifts that aren’t typically valued until adulthood. The goal of our homeschool is not to make “elite students” and that seems to be tough for a lot of people around me to comprehend. Glory to God for all things!
As I read this, I remember how much in First Year English was focused on outcomes. We were supposed to put them in our syllabus, teach to them, and then evaluate how well our students did as a group. As a retired person, I have found intentions and goals don't work so well for me. Perhaps because of what you say. The freedom we are called to in Christ is can be frightening, because it's so open. Thank you for this. It's so wise and thoughtful and well written. I want to reread later.