You are likely familiar with the following stanza:

O come! O come! Emmanuel!

And ransom captive Israel;

That mourns in lonely exile here,

Until the Son of God appear.

This hymn speaks both to the longing we all have to be reached by God and to the manner in which he reaches us: through his Son, Jesus Christ. So the first point to establish is more than just a theological dogma, but a profound existential reality. We are limited people who mourn due to our ignorance, weakness and rebellion. Understanding the advent season as a time of preparation for celebrating the birth of Christ drills down into this sense we have that apart from God, all is lost.

And yet as we recollect so many advent hymns and carols, they are rich in the testimony of scripture. God has already spoken abundantly to give us a promise and a hope. Consider some of these verses:

Isaiah 7:14 – Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign. Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel.

Zechariah 6:12 – Behold, the man whose name is the Branch: for he shall branch out from his place, and he shall build the temple of the LORD

Isaiah 9:6 – For to us a child is born, to us a son is given; and the government shall be upon his shoulder, and his name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

Micah 5:2 – But you, O Bethlehem Ephrathah, who are too little to be among the clans of Judah, from you shall come forth for me one who is to be ruler in Israel, whose origin is from of old, from ancient days.

Together these verses and many others are clues to God’s plan. He has taught his people his thoughts. Yet, the verses require of the reader a heart that is open to receive knowledge from God. As captive as we are to ignorance, weakness and rebellion, we might be prone to ignore or discount what it is that God has taught. And so this advent season as a time of preparation rehearses the many passages that point to the revelation of Christ, reminds us of how we are prone to go astray and requires of us the mindset and disposition to receive from God.

The Educational Heart of God

In my reflection on God over the years, a key idea has emerged: God is an educator. God has revealed himself to us verbally. This implies that he communicates in such a way that he expects some amount of comprehension. It also implies that we have been made to comprehend what he communicates. Praise God for not keeping his thoughts to himself. He has made known his intentions. Praise God also for making us receptors of his communication, fallen though we may be. We turn with gratitude to our creator and redeemer for telling us our condition, for sharing with us our salvation plan, and for instructing us in the best way to live. This is the educational heart of God.

The repeated refrain of Genesis 1 is “And God said.” (1:3, 6, 9, 11, 14, 20, 24, 26) All of creation was spoken into existence; the universe is an act of communication. The heavens and earth show for God’s glory. It is no surprise that we have gleaned so much from scientific study, all of nature is packed with meaning. What a shame that the scientific method has been so based on atheistic assumptions. In bringing up science, it is not my intention to pit faith against science. Rather, it is to point to an alternative epistemology, one in which science can fully flourish on the basis of theistic assumptions. It seems arbitrary that Enlightenment scientism concluded that because God cannot be proven by reason or evidence, one must rule God out as a fundamental tenet of the method. Yet, could one not also conclude that if God cannot be proven, perhaps it is best to assume God’s existence? Does it not take an equal amount of faith to accept or reject God’s existence? And is there not compelling evidence for our faith?

“Every conclusion of science requires presuppositions, just as necessarily as every conclusion of science requires evidence. Indeed, without appropriate presuppositions, evidence loses its evidential role, and that undoes science.”

Hugh Gauch, Scientific Method in Practice (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002), 112

If we take the alternative presupposition that the natural world is an act of communication, the evidence of all of our fields of scientific enquiry point not only to new understandings in the natural realm, but also to ultimate meaning as communicated by God.

Creation, as magnificent as it is as an act of communication, pales in comparison to the clarity and specificity we gain from God’s communication through scripture. The Westminster Confession is so helpful at expressing this, “Although the light of nature, and the works of creation and providence, do so far manifest the goodness, wisdom, and power of God, as to leave men inexcusable; yet are they not sufficient to give that knowledge of God, and of His will, which is necessary unto salvation.” (1.1) We need something more sufficient than the general revelation of nature can provide. And thus God has spoken through scripture to spell out for us everything necessary for a right relationship with God. The Psalmist writes: “The law of the LORD is perfect, reviving the soul; the testimony of the LORD is sure, making wise the simple; the precepts of the LORD are right, rejoicing the heart; the commandment of the LORD is pure, enlightening the eyes;” (Ps 19:7-8) Notice how God’s communication to us addresses us as whole persons. Every part of us is nourished by the education God provides. We see this also in the New Testament: “For the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit, of joints and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart.” (Heb 4:12) And also in Paul’s writings: “All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, that the man of God may be competent, equipped for every good work.” (2 Tim 3:16-17). God’s educational program is not to get some sort of certification or occupational outcome. Instead, it is an education fitted to propel us into lives of flourishing.

The Advent of Christ as an Act of Teaching

John’s gospel presents the incarnation in profound theological terms. Jesus is presented as “the Word” in language echoing Genesis 1. The person of Jesus Christ is a speech act. He is not merely a mouthpiece, he is the essence of God, the impulse behind all of creation as well as the centerpiece of God’s salvation plan. Just as creation was an act of communication, so salvation is likewise an act of communication. “How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him who brings good news,” (Isa 52:7) The good news speaks to the verbal transaction of speaker and listener. Consider how frequently Jesus says in the gospels, “Truly, I say to you.” So when John calls Jesus the Word, he is encapsulating the dynamic of the incarnation as God’s most profound verbal communication to us.

To go a step further, we can add that God as a communicator has not simply spoken esoteric messages that tickle our highest thoughts. His communication is to be lived out. “And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.” (John 1:14) God’s communication is embodied, living and active. The thrust here is that God is not some distant professor lecturing on and on. Instead, God shares with us his very heart and does so in such a way that it meets our most fundamental needs, giving us guidance as to how to best live our lives. John calls Jesus the “light that shines in the darkness.” (John 1:5) He illumines our pathway. This is exactly what Zechariah expresses about Jesus in the gospel of Luke: “to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace.” (Luke 1:79)

This season as we celebrate the advent of Christ, we should reflect on how much Jesus’ incarnation is an act of teaching. Christ comes into our world to illumine our hearts and minds; to enlighten us. The incarnation is the inflection point of salvation history. God made man, dwelling among us, Immanuel; this is the act of teaching. What we are talking about here is not simply anticipating the teachings of Jesus, although that is both important and relevant. At a deeper level, the moment of the incarnation is mystery made obvious all along in the testimony of the Old Testament. It is the connection between heaven and earth that is impossible apart from a miraculous act of God. This embodied Word in and of itself is the grand act of teaching.

Advent and Our Educational Program

There are three calendars in my life that are asynchronous. There is the civil calendar which starts in January, ends in December and is celebrated on New Year’s Day. In many ways this is the least relevant time-telling calendar in my life. The second calendar is the school year. It starts with the first day of school in August and ends with graduation in June. This is the calendar that most impacts my working life. The third calendar is the church year. It begins with Advent in December and drives toward Easter in the Spring. This is the calendar that most impacts my devotional life. These offset cycles of time-telling demonstrate how the different aspects of our lives can get out of sync. Perhaps that is not an altogether bad thing, just a reality of being in the world and not of it.

The three calendars illustrate for me the three kinds of knowledge we work with as educators. The knowledge of the universe, the knowledge of man, and the knowledge of God. I am drawing these categories from Charlotte Mason, who writes:

“Of the three sorts of knowledge proper to a child, the knowledge of God, of man, and of the universe,––the knowledge of God ranks first in importance, is indispensable, and most happy-making.”

Charlotte Mason, Towards A Philosophy of Education (Volume 6, 158)

Even though the knowledge of God is ranked first in importance, it is often out of sync with the other objectives in our curriculum. Reading, writing and arithmetic have well defined texts and methods of instruction. This means that the knowledge of God takes second, even third place when it comes to the daily warp and woof of school life.

Mason recommends a very thorough reading of the Old and New Testaments throughout the educational program. If we believe that God makes himself known through his Word, and if we believe that he has made us in such a way that we can respond to this knowledge, then we really can do nothing less than provide as much of God’s revelation as we can to them. The result, when they truly encounter the stories and poetry of the Bible, is a training not only in intellectual knowledge, but also the affections.

“By degrees the Person of Our Lord as revealed in His words and His works becomes real and dear to them, not through emotional appeals but through the impression left by accurate and detailed knowledge concerning the Saviour of the World.”

Charlotte Mason, Towards A Philosophy of Education (Vol 6, 165)

Reading the Bible in order to know a Person is such a compelling educational objective!

One of the traditions we practice every year during advent is a course of readings that guide our devotions and prepare our hearts for Christmas. There are many different listings of readings available online. We place an advent wreath in the center of the table and light the proper candles following the weeks of advent. What I love about this practice is the way we as a family prepare our hearts for the coming of Christ. What we are doing is opening ourselves to a deeper knowledge of God. It is not as though we have not already received Christ. But through this practice we make ourselves available to know him in a deeper and more personal way.

Simple practices like these can likewise be implemented in the classroom. As educators, we can establish traditions that enable an encounter with God. The season of advent is particularly enticing as it has such a wide array of affections associated with it: awe, silence, joy, simplicity, humility, majesty, wonder. Even though the school calendar and church calendar are sometimes out of sync, we can still take advantage of moments when the church calendar offers up new seasons for us to practice our faith in new ways.

I conclude with this beautiful and profound hymn written by Ambrose of Milan, usually set to the tune Puer Nobis Nascitur. This link will take you to a lovely recording by The Choir of King’s College, Cambridge.

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(See Jason’s article on CSI “7 Steps to Narrating the Bible”!)

In biblical studies we seek to cultivate the habits of reverence, humility, submission to the text, and other qualities of faithful scholarship. But I propose another goal should rise to the top: enjoyment. The enjoyment that students have in reading a novel, or an eerie poem, or an adventure epic. 

When students are engaging with the Bible, we should hear laughter and gasps. We should see quizzical eyebrows and wide-eyed shock. I love to see students jumping out of their seats to be picked to identify a ‘hidden’ motif of Joshua. To see awkward blushes and grins, in unfolding the romance of Ruth and Boaz. To see shock and dismay over the violence of Genesis. And I had to laugh at my student’s obvious frustration, annotating her way through the book of Judges, with its noted cycle of idolatry: “Oh no… This is so wrong… Oh why? … That was cruel… This is just sad… Be smart and think!… Not again!”

My students read through the entire biblical canon in community, and their literary enjoyment of it is a memory that will last. Whether visually depicting the imagery of a Psalm or orally narrating the downward spiral of Genesis, students will remember Scripture as profound, holy, and artistically compelling. St. Augustine quipped, 

“Perhaps someone inquires whether the authors whose divinely-inspired writings constitute the canon, which carries with it a most wholesome authority, are to be considered wise only, or eloquent as well. A question which to me… is very easily settled. For where I understand these writers, it seems to me not only that nothing can be wiser, but also that nothing can be more eloquent.” 

 On Christian Doctrine, section 9

Why have we often missed the literary beauty of the Scriptures? Why do we move so quickly to “personal application,” while failing to linger in the episodes and the larger, sweeping narrative? Many a theologian has noted that we throw out good reading skills when it comes to the Bible—cutting the text into bite-size daily chunks, reading without context in mind, failing to find the author’s key themes and motifs. 

We have our modernity to blame. Theologian Peter Leithart depicts the Enlightenment and subsequent theological disputes as having moved evangelicals toward only half of the equation: unfolding the literal meaning and the moral application. But in Rehabilitating the Quadriga, Leithart explains that modern readers have missed out on the riches of Scripture by overlooking the medieval fourfold approach. We have ignored allegorical (or typological) reading and anagogical (or forward-looking reading, in light of final things). He urges us to recover more ancient ways of reading Scripture. 

Many modern advocates of theological interpretation of scripture are seeking to revive the more ancient, literary and typological approach to Scripture, and the good news is that we can implement this in K-12 Bible classes, even without personal training in the field. We can apply best-practices from teaching other literature as we study the canon. Here are 5 practical tactics to cultivate an enjoyment of scripture through a literary approach:

1. Annotating a Reader Bible 

This methodology revolves around close-reading and annotating of the text, so it is crucial that students have their own copy of a simple pew Bible or reader Bible to serve as their consumable textbook. Most reader Bibles are published in 4-6 volumes to complete the canon, and they are available in most translations. Students will build a personal library of the whole biblical canon. The embossed hardcover on these reader Bibles simply say “Pentateuch” or “Poetry,” but inside, the Bible looks like a novel or set of poems. 

Students are taught to treat this book as the valuable resource it is—to mark it, underline, and annotate neatly in pencil. A black-and-white composition book completes the required resources. Students will add quotes to this commonplace book over the six years that they read through the canon. It is a solid setup for a literary approach: a hardcover “novel” plus a growing journal of quotations. 

2. Seeking Simplicity: Multum non Multa

In keeping with the classical principle of “much, not many things,” we should cultivate long-term focus on a text rather than jumping between many resources. Students can sustain attention through a whole book or whole canonical section.  

To strip away distractions, students are asked to read with a pencil on the text, annotating their way through a full book. But there are two ways to practice sustained attention: 

1) Close reading of dense chapters, full of meaning. (Read at least twice.) Or

2) Longer periods of reading through several chapters in one sitting. 

“Long form reading teaches the students to follow a plot, poem, or letter from start to finish,” noted Zach. “It also sharpens the students’ attention span by requiring them to work and remain focused. Long form reading isn’t done every class period, because we take time to dive-deep at key moments, but either way, students should interact with the text first-hand prior to the teachers dispensing information.”

It is best to read in a good translation, to follow-along on a hard-copy as a skilled reader reads relatively swiftly, and then stop and do a close reading at key moments. Since they wouldn’t stop after every paragraph of the Iliad (because it’s lengthy), they keep up a similar pace with much of the Bible’s historical narratives. Otherwise, it can be hard to finish! 

Both reading methods seem . . . basic. Does this reduce the role of the teacher or eliminate direct instruction? By no means. But it does mean that the teacher’s role switches from lecture to hands-on coaching in skills. “Students benefit from habits and routines,” Zach explained. “Learning to read Scripture is like apprenticeship. The teacher is the lead learner and should model habits that the students will acquire over time, after much repetition. Good biblical reading should be seen as training.” 

3. Embracing Literary Skills 

Students at Veritas Christian Academy (the school where I teach Pentateuch and OT historical books) quickly learn that they will utilize literary skills daily in Bible class. There is no way to follow a complex text without using tools of genre, structure, precise vocabulary and synonyms. 

Precise attention to language is also how biblical theologians do their work. Many insights found by scholars are missed by average readers only because one’s literary understanding has to be increased to see the connections. Bible study tools that have been discussed for decades (“Listen for repetition”) only work when students understand the range of synonyms for a given word. 

4. Connecting with Ancient History

Since the canon is a collection of texts written in ancient Hebrew and Greek, we need to spend more time entering into the world of ancient history. Zach notes,

“Those who authored the biblical text had many similarities to us, but they also saw the world differently and we should learn from their worldview. It requires the reader to take on an ancient imagination.”

But discussing ancient history doesn’t have to be a dry, scholarly affair. In fact, since Veritas’ reader Bibles don’t contain scholarly footnotes or commentary, students have to use class discussion to work out their existing knowledge of ancient cultures and enter into “what this probably meant.” 

And don’t underestimate how much ancient knowledge is gained simply through broad reading of the Old Testament. The importance of land, agriculture, fertility, offspring, local gods, and differing gender-social roles is evident directly in Genesis.

Unleash your students’ creativity in wondering what life was like before the modern era! How did the ancients pass on writing, produce needed goods, utilize power, or reason about natural and supernatural forces? Even a bit of ancient background and ancient imagination goes a long way. 

5. Unleashing a Hunt for Imagery

Recurring words and images create through-lines across the Bible. Teach students to listen for repeated ideas, even if they don’t use the exact same word, and even if they seem like a minor concrete detail. These details will add up to a richer, more beautiful story when we keep track of them. But because motifs lie under the surface, we have to act like detectives. Have you heard repetition and wondered, “Is this a whole-Bible motif?” Check a scholarly work like the Dictionary of Biblical Imagery. Then do some thinking: What would this image mean to ancient people? Where did we see this motif earlier? Does it run all the way from Genesis to Revelation?

“We can be a lead learner, training students as apprentices,” Zach encourages. “Equip them with skills they need to be those with ‘eyes to see’ and ‘ears to hear’ God’s words, and then let them experience their own journey. My students often see aspects of the biblical text that I haven’t even noticed. I appreciate how we get to journey toward truth together.” 

A literary approach to the Bible lays a rich feast of manifold, complex meaning. What better could we spread before our students? Yes, they will have the choice as they grow, whether to go on believing. But I don’t think people want to walk away from a feast of meaning that is so very rich. When you start to see everything in existence illuminated by the light of Christianity, with all these layers of meaning—every concrete thing having a deeper, poetic, symbolic meaning. That is very hard to walk away from. It would constitute a loss to move from sacred, poetic living into non-meaning. Bare atoms. Nothingness. The richer the theology, the more lasting the faith. The imagery of the Bible can fuel new imagination for a kingdom way of living.

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I myself have struggled with this as an educator. Credentialed as I am with a doctorate in biblical studies, instead of entering the classroom with headstrong confidence in my ability to teach the Bible, I am all too aware of the complexities, nuance and sophistication of the biblical text. My book on 1 Peter, the result of many years study of one of the smaller epistles of the New Testament, examines tricky issues in textual criticism, literary analysis and theological interpretation. This is not to say that such depth of study has put the text out of reach for my younger students. I presented a bit from my book to 8th graders last year, and they were genuinely engaged with the text and gained spiritual insight from it. My reflections here, though, stem not from an accumulation of expertise, but rather from a sense that effectively teaching students comes not from subject expertise but from guiding them to their own encounter with God through his word.

In this article, I return again to Charlotte Mason’s Toward a Philosophy of Education to gain insight into an effective model for educating children in the Bible. (You may read along with me either online or in the volume published by Seven Treasures Publications in 2009 ISBN 978-1438298139. I will reference the published work below.) Mason orients her curriculum around domains of knowledge: knowledge of God, knowledge of man, knowledge of the universe. Knowledge of God is not just first in sequence, but first in rank of importance. In the child’s life, the mother is essential to a child acquiring a knowledge of God, because she knows the child more intimately than any teacher can and she can relate her knowledge without either talking down to the child or making such knowledge incomprehensible. I like Mason’s analogy of a mother describing the child’s father. Although absent at work, she is able to convey to the child the father’s love and care for the child. So too, the mother can share the heavenly father’s care and love. The child already has an affinity for a relationship with God, and our effort is simply “to help them make good” on their first steps of relating to God (82). As a seminary trained father, I know all too well the temptation to be exacting in our theology. We have little heretics on our hands who are likely to misunderstand the trinity or hypostatic union. My children asked many questions that could have been met with lengthy theological dissertations. But what these questions are really about are them just getting to know who God is. It’s easy to teach doctrine later. Don’t miss the opportunity to cultivate the relationship now.

The Sufficiency and Simplicity of Scripture

Once the child is of school age (6 years old), they are ready for the “demands of conscious mental effort.” The key factor in determining their readiness for scholarly activity is the ability to tell back or narrate. Upon arriving at this intellectual level, reading from the Bible and having the child retell forms the core of biblical education.

Now our objective in this most important part of education is to give the children the knowledge of God. We need not go into the question of intuitive knowledge, but the expressed knowledge attainable by us has its source in the Bible, and perhaps we cannot do a greater indignity to children than to substitute our own or some other benevolent person’s rendering for the fine English, poetic diction and lucid statement of the Bible.(83)

Our curriculum should be based in the sufficiency of the Bible. It is the sole source of our knowledge of God (special revelation), adding specificity to our intuitive knowledge (general revelation). It is the word of God that has the power to save and sanctify. Therefore she recommend actually reading it, without substituting it for some filtered or clarified rendition. A child can listen with delight to the cadences and literary eloquence of the Bible. The reading should be direct and simple, going passage by passage followed by a narration by the child. Mason has great insight into two aims for the child. First, the child is growing in “the attitude of the will towards God.” We might call this reverence, obedience or fear of the Lord. In every experience of wonderment, the child gains a sense of God’s power and authority; that this is a being worthy of obedience and worship. Second, the child is growing in the “perception of God which comes from a gradual slow-growing comprehension of the divine dealings with men.” A sense of how God relates to any individual comes through perceiving how God has dealt with others. Precision in understanding the nature of God and his plan of salvation takes time. Fortunately, we have time in ample amounts. Little by little, passage by passage, the child can acquire a storehouse of biblical knowledge.

In the course of her description of biblical education, Mason lays out a basic course of study for children (see the chart further below that lays this out in terms of US grade levels). For students 6-12 years old, she recommends gaining a broad overview of the OT becoming acquainted with the major and minor prophets and the kings as well as learning from the synoptic gospels. Children can benefit from a good children’s Bible or a guide to introduce passages directly from the Bible itself. Finding a useful volume that helps read the Bible rather than replacing it is important. Mason would have us find an author who is “able to take the measure of children’s minds, to help them over real difficulties, bive impulse to their thoughts and direction to their conduct.” (84) For students 12-15, reading the whole of the OT with “wise and necessary omissions” is paired with the gospel of John and Acts. There are so many stimulating and fascinating passages that there is such an abundance of material the goal should not be comprehensive coverage, but selection that will fan the flame of the young teenager’s deepening knowledge of God. For students 16-18, it is time to address difficulties in the text, whether they be “textual, moral or doctrinal.” The argumentative literature of the epistles and the apocalyptic literature of Revelation is reserved for this latter stage. Our delineation of ages might shift a bit, but the recognition of stages of development is sound in her basic layout.

Notice that step by step, the student is guided through selections of scripture to gain a sufficient knowledge of the whole over a long span of time. Selectivity is essential for identifying age-appropriate passages for study at different age levels. This is very different than the kind of selectivity associated with proof texting. We want to give our children a broad and comprehensive diet without cherry picking a minimal set of key passages. Yet there are places where wise caution should be exercised either because the material is for mature audiences (one thinks of Genesis 38) or the argumentation is fairly abstract and intricate (say, Romans 3-5 or Galatians 2-3). These can be saved for later in the child’s education. Early on simple narratives that are highly accessible to young minds should be the normal fare even through middle school.

Difficulties, Doubt and Doctrine

The Bible is a collection of works created by a number of different authors over the course of thousands of years. Even at its most accessible (the vocabulary and style of John, for instance, reads easily) the concepts of the Bible can be difficult to understand. Even apart from doctrinal difficulties, there are many books of the Bible that will challenge young readers and at times even older readers. The simplicity of the gospel should not cause us to assume that the Bible is simple to read. It is after all ancient literature, and there are moments of heightened literary style. There are difficulties within the Bible that have generated volumes of scholarly debate, so much so that we can be forgiven our ignorance surrounding issues and nuances. We cannot be afraid of the challenges inherent in the text, nor can we be dismissive of the difficulties we encounter. Our students will come across them, asking us questions as they read a challenging text. We shepherd these little ones through personal doubt and differences in doctrinal heritage.

When teaching the Bible our pedagogy must be consistent with any other subject or topic of study. The engine room of Mason’s methodology rests in a simple plan to be executed for all lessons.

In every case the reading should be consecutive from a well-chosen book. Before the reading for the day begins, the teacher should talk a little (and get the children to talk) about the last lesson, with a few words about what is to be read, in order that the children may be animated by expectation; but she should beware of explanation and, especially, of forestalling the narrative. Then, she may read two or three pages, enough to include an episode; after that, let her call upon the children to narrate,––in turns, if there be several of them. They not only narrate with spirit and accuracy, but succeed in catching the style of their author. It is not wise to tease them with corrections; they may begin with an endless chain of ‘ands,’ but they soon leave this off, and their narrations become good enough in style and composition to be put in a ‘print book’! This sort of narration lesson should not occupy more than a quarter of an hour. The book should always be deeply interesting, and when the narration is over, there should be a little talk in which moral points are brought out, pictures shown to illustrate the lesson, or diagrams drawn on the blackboard. As soon as children are able to read with ease and fluency, they read their own lesson, either aloud or silently, with a view to narration; but where it is necessary to make omissions, as in the Old Testament narratives and Plutarch’s Lives, for example, it is better that the teacher should always read the lesson which is to be narrated.

Charlotte Mason, Home Education, 232-233

Notice that a lesson begins with a very brief introduction by the teacher, merely to stimulate the expectation of the students for what they are about to read. The focal point of the lesson is the text, not the teacher. After reading an episode – a manageable, coherent passage – the student narrates what was read, imitating the concepts, language and sequence of the author. Then the class responds to the text through discussion or written work. The idea here is to work with the material in such a way as to fully assimilate the content as well as think through its implications and applications. This focused method operates in all subjects, including the Bible. Mason spells out the method as it relates to the Bible, after “some talk and discussion” (which, keep in mind, ought to be brief and only to stimulate expectation) “the teacher will read the Bible passage in question which the children will narrate.” The narration itself is the core of the exercise, although the lesson should finish with some form of response by the student assisted by the teacher. Notice in this quote that the teacher is not just helping the student acquire ideas, but also habits of reverence and sympathy.

The narration is usually exceedingly interesting; the children do not miss a point and often add picturesque touches of their own. Before the close of the lesson, the teacher brings out such new thoughts of God or new points of behaviour as they reading has afforded, emphasizing the moral or religious lesson to be learnt rather by a reverent and sympathetic manner than by any attempt at personal application.

Charlotte Mason, Towards a Philosophy of Education, 84-85

This method enables the teacher to handle difficulties not by being the answer person addressing all of the child’s questions but by introducing them to “thoughtful commentators” who will help the child find answers without detracting from scripture’s nature as God’s revelation. Mason writes:

Having received a considerable knowledge of the Old Testament in detail from the words of the Bible itself and having been trained to accept difficulties freely without giving place to the notion that such difficulties invalidate the Bible as the oracle of God and our sole original source of knowledge concerning the nature of Almighty God and the manner of His government of the world, children are prepared for a further study of divinity, still following the Bible text. (85)

Every student must encounter difficulties at their own level of understanding and at their own pace. As a parent or teacher, we often fear that the questions the child raises is the first step toward heresy or rejection of the faith. This is far from the case, since children are grappling with abstract concepts like fallenness, salvation, justification and sanctification. They must begin at a place of limited understanding before they can fully understand all the intricacies of their knowledge of God and the salvation he provides in Christ. Doubt itself can be useful in sharpening faith and detecting error. Oz Guinness, in his 1976 book In Two Minds, defines doubt as “a state of mind in suspension between faith and unbelief” (27). This liminal state is like a sword that can cut in two directions. Its liability is that it can destroy faith, but it can also usefully challenge error. Guinness writes:

As long as the presence of doubt is detected anywhere, neither faith nor knowledge can ever be complacent. But though doubt may be normal, it should be temporary and it should always be resolved. Wisely understood, resolutely faced, it need hold no fear for the Christian. To a healthy faith doubt is a healthy challenge. (47-49)

So we neither have to ignore nor fear difficulties and doubts students encounter in the Bible. We do need to be careful, though, not to be the source of answers. This can create a dependence on the teacher to alleviate these points of tension. The student must work through these matters in order to arrive at a place of personal appropriation of their own faith.

A Course of Study

Mason lays out a reasonable sequence of biblical study for students at different ages. I’ve tried to organize and summarize her thoughts in the chart below, converting the information to the grade levels most commonly used in the US.

For the youngest children, a good Bible story book helps provide a broad overview. I really like The Big Picture Story Bible by David Helm for PreK and Kindergarten. Egermeier’s Bible Story Book is a classic appropriate for 1st and 2nd graders. Even at these early years, though, reading from the Bible itself has great merit. By the time a child is 8, they should be able to read the narrative sections of the Bible with ease. Recognize, however, that there are many passages that may not be appropriate for young ears, which is why Mason encourages selectivity for the youngest students.

As children begin to encounter difficulties in the Bible, it is most helpful to equip them with a means of finding answers for themselves. I really like Bible handbooks for this purpose. Most publishers (Zondervan, Crossway, etc.) produce handbooks. I like the one produced by Baker. It has excellent illustrations, often using classic paintings. The articles and commentary are succinct, written by scholars who have the ability to convey their deep knowledge in an accessible style.

I was surprised to find Mason reserving the epistles for the oldest students, but this makes great sense. Paul, for instance, uses dense argumentation at times, often covering abstract theological concepts. There are certainly great verses for the second grader to learn from, say, Romans. But it takes some maturity to really dig into what the epistles have to say. Our ultimate goal is for students to become effective interpreters of the Bible and to cultivate theological reasoning. This takes time, so don’t feel like you have to rush your younger students into full-on inductive Bible study. And the little heresies children speak when young tend to get worked out over time.

Teaching the Bible can be one of the most difficult subjects to get right at Christian schools. The Bible seems easier than you think, but ends up being harder than you think. Many of us who have grown up with the Bible have become very familiar with it, yet teaching it to children requires an awareness of their lack of familiarity as well as a sense of some of the difficulties this ancient text has in store for them. I’m sure many of you out there have come across great resources and effective methods. We’d love to hear how Charlotte Mason’s method resonates with your experience and what kinds of resources you would recommend.

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 In a previous article on Jesus’ student-teacher relationship with John the Baptist, we mentioned that there is so much that can be learned about education from Jesus’ example. The mystery of the incarnation is packed with significance for the process of learning, human maturation and discipleship. As it says in Hebrews,

“Although he was a son, he learned obedience through what he suffered. And being made perfect, he became the source of eternal salvation to all who obey him, being designated by God a high priest after the order of Melchizedek.” (Heb 5:8-9 ESV)

The idea that Jesus “learned obedience through what he suffered” includes the cross as the culminating event, but it also consists in his whole life from cradle to grave. The author of Hebrews argues at length for Jesus’ role as high priest, and this too implies that Christ’s humanity necessarily includes the common human experiences of learning, growth and development.

It’s unfortunate that we don’t have much of a record of Jesus’ childhood, because that would no doubt be a gold mine for reflection on educational ideals. What insights we could mine on the ideal learner by studying Jesus’ boyhood! Of course, to talk of fortune is silly when we know that God providentially preserved for us exactly the information he wanted us to know about Jesus’ early years. And therefore we have all the more reason to mine the one significant passage on his boyhood, and that is the story from Luke of the boy Jesus being left behind in Jerusalem at twelve years old.

Borrowing from Hebrews’ identification of Jesus as our great high priest, we’ll unpack the passage by focusing on Jesus’ priestly learning, his priestly lineage and his priestly humility, before stepping back at what Jesus’s example as the ideal learner can teach us about education generally.

The Ideal Learner Left Behind in the Temple

41 Now his parents went to Jerusalem every year at the Feast of the Passover. 42 And when he was twelve years old, they went up according to custom. 43 And when the feast was ended, as they were returning, the boy Jesus stayed behind in Jerusalem. His parents did not know it, 44 but supposing him to be in the group they went a day’s journey, but then they began to search for him among their relatives and acquaintances, 45 and when they did not find him, they returned to Jerusalem, searching for him. 46 After three days they found him in the temple, sitting among the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions. 47 And all who heard him were amazed at his understanding and his answers. 48 And when his parents saw him, they were astonished. And his mother said to him, “Son, why have you treated us so? Behold, your father and I have been searching for you in great distress.” 49 And he said to them, “Why were you looking for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?” 50 And they did not understand the saying that he spoke to them. 51 And he went down with them and came to Nazareth and was submissive to them. And his mother treasured up all these things in her heart. 52 And Jesus increased in wisdom and in stature and in favor with God and man.

Luke 2:41-52, ESV

Luke, the writer of this Gospel narrative, sets the scene for us well. It’s a classic case of lost child. I’m sure many parents have similar stories of losing or almost losing track of a child in a busy place. My mother tells the story of almost losing my brother in a crowded airport. I have some friends who often tell the story of leaving one child of several behind at a gas station in the midst of a long journey for a few minutes before doubling back to get him. There are few experiences more frightening or dismaying for a parent.

Some indications from the beginning of this Gospel suggest that Luke has had a chance to interview Mary, late in her life, after the death and resurrection of Jesus. Can you imagine what it would have been like to sit down with Mary, Jesus’ mother, and hear her tell story after story about his early life? Of those stories that could have been told, this one made it in the Gospels because of its significance in pointing to Jesus’ identity and self-awareness as God’s son.

Jesus, along with his mother and father, had joined a group of Jewish pilgrims every year travelling from Nazareth up to Jerusalem. And this was such a commonplace yearly occurrence for them, amongst the jostling crowds, with a set of fellow Nazarenes in all likelihood, that when all the rites had been fulfilled for the festival of Passover and it came time to head home, Joseph and Mary thought nothing of it as they all departed with the group. As Luke tells it, they simply assumed that Jesus was with their relatives somewhere in the caravan that was heading toward Nazareth. You can imagine how the slight uneasiness of the parents at not seeing him would grow throughout the day as they are journeying on, how they might begin to actively search for him, asking their neighbors and relatives in the caravan if they’d seen their son. And then at last as uneasiness turned to downright panic, they realized that he was not anywhere in their group and so they had to turn around and head back on their own to the incredibly busy and likely dangerous capital to search for their lost son. Undoubtedly this would become a memory engraved on a mother’s mind beyond all the other trivial occurrences of day to day life.

Well, what is striking about this episode is not his parents’ fear and three-day long search, which are understandable enough given the circumstances. No, what caused this story to be recorded is where Jesus actually was and what he was doing the whole time his parents were frantically searching, which brings us to our first point and that is his priestly learning.

1. Priestly Learning

Jesus had spent those four days in the temple sitting among the teachers and asking them questions. And as it says in verse 47, “all who heard him were amazed at his understanding and his answers.” In spite of being from the Podunk town of Nazareth, not from a priestly or rabbinic family of any significance whatsoever, not even having had the opportunities of any formal education in the scriptures, aside from what could be picked up at the local synagogue or the yearly trip to Jerusalem, Jesus was apparently remarkable for his learning.

Now I mean that in two senses. First and perhaps most important is that Jesus has sought out the learning; he is, we might say, an active learner. After all, he’s the one that got so caught up in questioning the teachers who would daily come to the temple courts that he failed to go with the departing caravan. He displays a youthful eagerness for learning all that he can about God and the scriptures, listening carefully and thoughtfully to the priests and scribes and rabbis, asking them questions. He is engaged in the type of learning process that would have been reserved primarily for those training to be priests or teachers of the law of Moses. He has sought it out and claimed this priestly learning as his own.

But secondly, there is his learning, in the sense of his own insight or understanding based on what he has learned or known. The ability of his questions to drive at the core issue and his own insightful answers to the questions of these teachers were a source of amazement to everyone watching this unique teacher-student dynamic in the temple. Even without a priestly education, Jesus had a priestly wisdom and a depth of understanding about the relationship of God and humanity that would have fit him for the priesthood.

It might feel strange to discuss Jesus learning about the Bible, God and the priestly duties and sacrifices of the Mosaic law, and that’s because as modern Christians we tend to stress and emphasize Jesus’ divinity—the fact that he is fully God, different and set apart from us. And there’s a good reason for that: those who don’t believe in Jesus, non-Christians, are perfectly fine with talking about Jesus as a man, as a human being, and so we are inclined to emphasize the important truth of his divinity that they wouldn’t agree with, but which we hold so dear. But it’s important for us not to forget Jesus’ full humanity, that he was a baby, that he grew up as a boy, and learned things, experienced life and suffered just like we do. In some mysterious way Jesus is both: fully God and fully man, 100% God, 100% frail human being.

And that is so important, because that mystery is precisely what enables Jesus to be our great high priest. As a human being, Jesus shares in all of our experience, in all that it means to be a human in this world; and that includes learning. He can sympathize with our weakness and struggle, with our questions and heartache, with our everyday challenges of school life and the process of learning, because he himself learned as a child, just like we all did… just like our children and students do.

2. Priestly Lineage

By priestly lineage I don’t mean to say that Jesus was born into a priestly family, of the line of Levi or Aaron. In fact, the Gospel writers are very clear that he was of the tribe of Judah, from which no priest in Israel’s history ever came. No, Jesus wasn’t of priestly lineage in that sense. What I’m referring to here is the startling and prophetic response that Jesus the twelve-year-old boy gives to Mary when she starts her scolding.

After scouring Jerusalem for three days, Mary has as good an excuse as any to go into lecture mode, “Your father and I have been worried sick?! Why have you done this to us? Do you have any idea the anxiety we’ve experienced while looking all over for you?!” she says, more or less. And Jesus answers them enigmatically, as if in a riddle, saying, “Why were you searching for me? Didn’t you know that it was necessary for me to be in my father’s courts?” Most translations say “in my father’s house” and that gets at it well, but the Greek is a very general expression like “at my father’s place,” only it’s plural, which would give some hint that it implied the holy places or sanctuary.

In hindsight we can see how Jesus’ cryptic statement points not only to his self-understanding as God’s Son, but also to his priestly role as the mediator between God and man. After all, God’s house would naturally be home to priests, like Samuel of old, who was dedicated to the Lord after his miraculous birth, when God heard his mother Hannah’s prayer and opened her womb. In a way, Jesus is saying that he has come home, that he should have always been here in his Father’s holy places, and his earthly parents should have known that.

Luke makes clear that Mary and Joseph had no idea what he meant by that at the time. You can imagine that they weren’t in the mood for interpreting riddles, and you get the impression that this wasn’t the only time Jesus said something puzzling or enigmatic. Of course, Mary and Joseph would have known the mystery of Jesus’ divine parentage, the fact that his true Father really was the God of Israel himself—how the angel had proclaimed to Mary that the child to be born to her would be called the Son of the Most High. If anyone had a right to be a priest in God’s house, it was Jesus. Where else would he be found than in his Father’s sanctuary, devoting himself to learning in the rabbinic discussion-based format?

3. Priestly Humility

Well, in spite of Jesus’ divine and priestly lineage, in spite of his astonishing priestly learning, Jesus does not immediately embark on the trajectory of a child prodigy, seeking the best teachers in Jerusalem, taking advantage of his claim to fame in the nation’s capital. Jesus simply and humbly goes back home with his parents to the small out-of-the-way town of Nazareth, where he has no hope of becoming famous for his learning or advancing to the top of the priestly hierarchy of Israel. And he even, says Luke, “was submissive to” his parents, obeying them, from the heart, even if his learning and pedigree was beyond their own.

Try to imagine for a moment what that would have been like, to be Jesus, and to submit humbly to poor, ordinary, sinful parents, without great learning or skills or resources; to learn from Joseph the rudimentary skills of carpentry, when he had the ability to study with the best rabbis of Israel. Jesus exercised an incredible priestly humility. I wonder what would have happened if the boy Jesus had pushed for more advancement and influence. It certainly wouldn’t have followed the God-ordained plan that Jesus would grow up like “a root out of dry ground” and that he would have “no form or majesty that we should look at him, and no beauty that we should desire him” (Isaiah 53:2 ESV). But more than fulfilling prophecy, it would have short-circuited the normal human process and development.

Perhaps that’s why Luke closes out this section by stating that “Jesus grew in wisdom and in stature and in favor with God and man.” Perhaps it’s actually in the humble submission of obeying your parents and teachers, of apprenticeship into a trade, of humble service and labor, day in and day, that human beings grow. Wisdom, that priestly wisdom of maintaining a right relationship with God, comes through humility. Indeed Jesus “learned obedience through what he suffered.”

Applications to Teaching and Learning

Well, we’ve already mentioned some ways that this passage can speak to our educational renaissance by offering a picture of the ideal learner. But let’s draw out some implications just a touch further in terms of the content, method and purpose of Jesus brief stint of priestly learning.

Content: Text-centered Instruction

Our first implication for education relies on a historical inference. What were Jesus and the teachers of the law discussing for all those days as Jesus lingered in the temple courts? I’ve already made allusion to the Mosaic law and the scriptures, reflecting my view that the instruction was focused on the text of scripture and its interpretation. While this isn’t stated explicitly in Luke, from a historical perspective it is almost certainly the case. Rabbinic focus on the exact meaning and application of the Hebrew scriptures did not pop out of nowhere after AD 70. The teachers of the law and the priests in the temple had the books of the Pentateuch as a fundamental starting point.

Education focused on passing on this cultural and religious heritage, alongside the oral torah, or spoken instruction about the text as passed on from generation to generation of religious leaders and teachers. We don’t need to embrace an authoritative view of this tradition to appreciate its relevance for education. For both the highly skilled and the normal Jew, the centerpiece of education focused on a text. There was content to be known and understood and that content was found in the rich literature recording Israel’s cultural history.

Of course, in this case the texts also revealed God and were inspired by Him in ways that no other body of literature could. But that doesn’t change the fundamental point that the content of education was traditional, in the sense that it focused on passing down a cultural heritage of wisdom through instruction in particular texts. This is an important point because in our culture active experiences get so much hype that we tend to downplay the centrality of learning a body of literature through the hard work of sitting down and reading it with focused attention.

Method: Discussion-based Learning

There are many different terms for discussion-based learning today, from the socratic dialogue (which means any number of different things to different teachers, not many of which have a close relationship to Socrates’ actual method) to partner talk, harkness tables, or the dialectic of the liberal arts tradition. The description of Jesus both listening to the teachers and asking them questions, and amazing them with his insight and answers seems to point to some sort of multifaceted learning process that had discussion as its base. This is not a one-sided set of interactions; teachers and students both ask questions and also give answers to each other. It is therefore a fundamentally different mode of education than one that is primarily one-way at its base. Jesus does not sit and take notes while the teachers of the law lecture, only to be tested later on his ability to spew up the identical factual content he received. Instead, they discuss the content of scripture together.

We want to be careful here not to claim that there isn’t a place for direct instruction. Jesus himself will go on to teach to the crowds in sermons and parables at length, with no dialogue mentioned. However, the Gospels do record that he would then often discuss the details at length with his inner circle of disciples, showing that the ideal method of learning was discussion-based, not simply hearing-based, and that in fact the public telling of the parables was meant to conceal the full reality from the crowds, not showcase an optimal teaching method as some today claim (see e.g. Mark 4:10ff.). At the very least Jesus’ own practice as a boy points to how the ideal learner interacts, asks questions and responds with full engagement in the learning process.

Purpose: Wisdom, Stature and Favor

Luke’s final comment about Jesus’ submission to Joseph and Mary signal a broader purpose for both his education and his sonship. The first thing to notice is that there is a focus on “increase” or growth in particular qualities or attainments. The purpose of childhood and education is therefore subjective in the sense that it aims to develop this particular child. Second are the qualities themselves. Wisdom is intellectual, no doubt, but also spiritual, moral and relational, if the book of Proverbs is any clue to what Luke has in mind here. Stature is clearly physical, referring in the Greek to age or time of life development, but also to the maturity and bearing of an adult. Favor with God and man focuses on his reputation and relationships. Here in a nutshell we have a holistic educational goal of personal development in physical, moral, intellectual, spiritual and relational components of what it means to be a mature human being.

Jesus, the ideal learner, learned obedience through suffering and submission as a child, grew in wisdom, stature and favor, and thus illustrates for us the trajectory of a holistic education in content, method and purpose.

Please let me know your responses in the comments! Is there something I missed? How else do you see Jesus in the role of learner?

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