Becoming Classically Educated
The Journey Toward Humane Learning
The backbone of the Christian Humanist Reading Life course is paired readings of primary sources and my new book, Becoming Classically Educated. We are entering our fifth week, and it’s been marvelous discussing this ideas with intellectually hungry parents and teachers.
Strangely, I just held a physical copy of my book for the first time, yesterday (mostly because I was traveling this summer). It’s been out for a couple of months and it’s been delightful to see readers appreciate it on social media and send me pictures of their copy. Many received a copy of the book at a summer Consortium conference and that means I’ll be giving away complementary copies to everyone who attends the Southeastern Consortium in Raleigh, NC next week (be sure to come if you’re nearby).
Before sharing the introduction with you—the best way to show you what it’s all about—I want to give a shout out to Roman Roads Press who did an fantastic job publishing my motley collection of essays. Thank you to Daniel Foucachon and crew! I also received news recently that Josh Herring, PhD reviewed it for the Acton Institute; that review is expected to be published sometime early August. Thank you, Josh!
There are three places to order you copy:
Table of Contents
Introduction
Reading maketh a full man; conference a ready man; and writing an exact man. So writes Francis Bacon in his atomic essay, “Of Studies.”
I suppose my inclination to agree with him suggests some consonance with the English philosopher and statesmen, at least on this count. Yet, perhaps my approach to writing is closer to Flannery O’Connor’s who wrote to her literary agent that “I have to write to discover what I am doing… I don’t know so well what I think until I see what I say; then I have to say it over again.”1 Discovering what one can rightly say about a matter is one of the chief reasons I doggedly goad my students with the maxim that good writing is clear thinking made visible.
Although I cannot say with the same certainty that what I have written in the following collection of essays is indeed clear thinking made visible, I can say that I have written with the conscientious intention of discovering what I can say accurately about humane learning so I can think about and articulate better the ideas that have transformed and enriched my own life. That is, after all, what Bacon seems to have meant when he said writing maketh an exact man. Whatever the case may be, I hope this humble collection will also lend something substantive to the enrichment of the reader.
I started wrestling with the ideas contained in these essays more than a decade ago, attempting to discover and articulate the Christian humanist vision for education. In fact, at the time I started reading and writing in the humanities, I didn’t have the intellectual framework to erect that last sentence and mean anything by it. I had only just discovered the little movement called Classical Christian Education; and, in my limited purview at that time, Christianity and humanism were worldviews mutually exclusive of one another. Today, classical education is no longer just a little movement; and, by God’s good grace, having received a liberal education I can build on, I am no longer lacking the furniture needed to cultivate a robust life of the mind. In fact, I am now extremely optimistic about Christian humanism as I’m optimistic that these essays will have something to offer those desiring to explore classical education and engage in the great conversation.
Presently, we are experiencing a Renaissance, an exponentially growing renewal of the classical and Christian intellectual tradition. Most readers holding this simple book are likely aware of what I am talking about. At the very least, many are certainly aware of the abundance of news articles and other media, some decrying and some celebrating, the decline in public school attendance and the aggressive growth of homeschooling and private schools both in the U.S. and around the world. Also worth mentioning, there has been a proliferation of state level parent-choice scholarships that similarly reflect the shifting tide of thought about the nature of education in the U. S. Much of the growth reported in these statistics come from the steep rise in attraction to classical Christian education.
I suppose it’s unnecessary and redundant to interject a brief affirmation on this point, one where I celebrate the current trend away from public schools and toward private education, especially when it is classical and Christian, but to do so would be a needless digression.
Nevertheless, prior to discovering Classical Christian Education, I had spent my career in church planting, and starting Christian schools for our church families as an alternative to the Augean Stables that was modern public education. Although the schools we were building were theoretically superior, we felt that in many ways we were merely building similar schools adorned with better standards, Bible training, and chapel services. To change metaphors, the differences were more in the wallpaper than in the foundation. Fundamentally, there was an itch we couldn’t seem to pinpoint, let alone scratch. But when the proverbial scratching instrument finally did emerge, it was, as Roosevel Montás described his initial encounter with the Great Books, “fortuitous and decisive.”
My own transformation began when I returned to seminary to take up a graduate degree in Christian and Classical Studies. Although I couldn’t conceive of the implications at the time, my classics professor had studied under Louise Cowan at the University of Dallas, notable for its Great Books program. Under his guidance, reading Plato’s Republic for the first time was like stealing a breath after being held under water for way too long. Better still, it was like emerging into the sunlight from a cave of images after spending most of my life looking at reality through shadows and reflections. Escaping the cave was a great injustice, for I was no longer the same person; yet, finding language to explain to others what I had experienced and why it mattered was elusive. I suppose writing these essays were both my own attempt to find the language I needed and also my reasonable service of returning down into the cave.
Fortunately for me, it is unlikely that the majority of readers picking up this collection would spite me for championing reality outside the cave, since they are likely already familiar with a liberal arts education, and are presently reckoning their own education as a journey toward the truth of things as illuminated by the sun. Yet, much like Plato’s philosopher, and a whole lot like my own experience, perhaps a reader has picked up these essays because he or she is seeking a guide while their sensitive eyes adjust to the light of their new reality. To that end, I sincerely hope this collection will be of some genuine assistance in the reader’s acclimation to this phase of the journey.
This is probably a good place to explain how one might want to approach this body of work. In the first place, the essays curated for this collection are both polemic and somewhat personal. That’s not to say they are contentious in tone or that they are in any manner personal memoir. They are neither. I do, however, strongly advocate for liberal learning in the Christian intellectual tradition such as I received it. That is the one place where the essays are consistent.
Otherwise, be advised this collection is a motley bunch. They are, some of them short and some of them long. A few are quite accessible and others tend to be more academic and sometimes veer toward turgidity. All of them though are thoughtful and leave lots of meat on the bone to chew on. The bibliography alone could be a worthy reading list for example. To approach them successfully, perhaps Bacon’s thought on study will be instructive if one were to substitute the word “book” for the word “essay”:
Read not to contradict and confute; nor to believe and take for granted; nor to find talk and discourse; but to weigh and consider. Some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some few to be chewed and digested; that is, some books are to be read only in parts; others to be read, but not curiously; and some few to be read wholly, and with diligence and attention. Some books also may be read by deputy, and extracts made of them by others; but that would be only in the less important arguments, and the meaner sort of books, else distilled books are like common distilled waters, flashy things.2
Hopefully, material which could be called “less important” or of “the meaner sort,” will be minimal and indeed, I trust the reader will find nothing “flashy” (i.e., effervescent and ephemeral), but I would be grateful to learn about it if such is discovered. The onus of any of those errors or deficiencies will be wholly mine.
Now, a word about the sections and essay order will serve as a helpful guide to ensure a successful and fruitful journey. The collection of essays begins with a treatment of classical education because education—the passing down of wisdom and knowledge from one generation to the next—is where every culture tells the truth about what it believes and what it loves. Next, the collection moves through the liberal arts and the great conversation because humane learning is ultimately a discipline of attention toward that which is worthy. Finally, the collection concludes with art, science, justice, and history because the classically educated person must eventually bring their ordered judgment to the disorders of the age. Any generation’s ability to apprehend wisdom and appropriate noble judgment signifies the place where cultural renewal can begin and meaningful reformation is possible.
With that, I leave the reader with a few practical suggestions for getting the most out of the collection. My first suggestion is, if possible, read the essays in the order presented to appreciate the natural journey of discovery. In fact, an argument could be made for a likeness or mirroring of the grammar-logic-rhetoric paradigm in the ordering of the essays. Another possible approach would be to simply start where one’s curiosity or interest is piqued. To read at whim is often the most satisfying; and, when that’s the case, it can be some of the most productive kind of reading.
Notwithstanding, I think the order is important and, therefore, encourage the reader to approach the essays that way if open to such guidance. Second, I believe this collection could be useful reading for a book club, teacher training, or other group study environment where discussion is a component. Personal reading is, of course, never out of fashion, but I suggest reading in community if possible. Finally, I frequently cite swaths of text from classical sources that would be well worth commonplacing or simply meditating on. And, as I previously mentioned, the bibliography always makes a useful book list for pursuing further reading on a topic or subject. Regardless of one’s approach, I trust it will have been worth the time and effort it takes to ruminate in these humane letters on education, culture, and the great conversation.
Scott Postma, PhD
Eastertide 2026
Flannery O’Connor, The Habit of Being: Letters of Flannery O’Connor, ed. Sally Fitzgerald (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1979), 5.
Francis Bacon, “Essays or Counsels: Civil and Moral,” in The Harvard Classics 3: Essays by Bacon, Milton, and Browne, ed. Charles W. Eliot (New York: P. F. Collier & Son, 1909), 128.