In Behalf of the Fool: Answering Joshua Gibbs, Part 1: On Building Classical Christian Schools

And I told them of the hand of my God that had been upon me for good, and also of the words that the king had spoken to me. And they said, “Let us rise up and build.” So they strengthened their hands for the good work. — Nehemiah 2:18 (ESV) 

And they sang responsively, praising and giving thanks to the LORD, 

“For he is good,

for his steadfast love endures forever toward Israel.” 

And all the people shouted with a great shout when they praised the LORD, because the foundation of the house of the LORD was laid. But many of the priests and Levites and heads of fathers’ houses, old men who had seen the first house, wept with a loud voice when they saw the foundation of this house being laid, though many shouted aloud for joy, so that the people could not distinguish the sound of the joyful shout from the sound of the people’s weeping, for the people shouted with a great shout, and the sound was heard far away. 

— Ezra 3:11–13 (ESV) 

Over the coming few months, I will be acting the part of the fool by answering some of Joshua Gibbs’s critiques of classical Christian (CC) schools and the CC movement from an administrator’s point of view. The title of this series, “In Behalf of the Fool,” echoes the title of Gaunilo of Marmoutier’s critique of Anselm’s ontological argument for the existence of God, but the only points I am trying to make in using this title are these three: 

1. I acknowledge that Gibbs is well known and loved for his critiques, and by comparison I have the popularity of the fool from Marmoutier.  
2. I agree with almost everything (like this) Gibbs has written on the flaws and frivolities of school administrators. Almost. It might seem foolish, then, to write against the ideas of someone I agree with most of the time.  
3. I acknowledge that although it is a special pleasure for an administrator to crush the soul of the humanities department, it would be foolish to do so.  

A frequent theme of Gibbs’s writing is the lack of classical or missionally aligned teachers and families. In this article he seems to indicate that the percentage of students from mission-aligned families being 25 percent is the norm in classical Christian schools. Below is the portion of the article I would like to address: 

When you crunch the numbers and find that the average response is somewhere around 25%, don’t despair. At this point, I’d wager that number is average. But don’t be content with that number. You’ve got to ask:  

What do we have to do over the next five years to have more mission-aligned families, not less?  

Are we willing to make any sacrifices in order to have a higher percentage of mission-aligned families, not less?  

Do administrators get defensive and protest they’re “not perfectionists” whenever the subject of mission-aligned families comes up, or do they acknowledge the problem and do something about it?  

Do administrators assume there are more mission-aligned families at the school than teachers do? Why? Who is in a better position to judge this accurately?   

Do admin and faculty have different ideas on what the mission of the school is?  

What problems emerge in a school where administrators assume there are more mission-aligned families than teachers do?  

Are these questions that can be openly discussed at your school, or are they treated as seditious and disrespectful as a matter of course? 

My take on his observation is that he is probably right in the assumption that at any given time, a quarter of our students are from missionally aligned families, but he seems to be assuming that schools are not pursuing more missionally aligned families and instead are pursuing others. Why? Is it for their tuition or just out of ignorance? We don’t know. But I have a different take, and unfortunately, I think Gibbs is sorely mistaken. It is worse than he imagines. The truth is there are nearly zero missionally aligned families to choose from. 

For every one hundred applications for admissions at the schools I have been in, we may get three or four who already know what our school means by classical and Christian, but even they aren’t completely on board with everything we try to do. Many don’t get the culture, the rigor, or—and here is the key—that we are teaching a way of life. They don’t get that our curriculum isn’t for the student to master but for the student to be mastered by it.  

In the fall of 2024, we opened a new classical Christian school in Neenah, WI. And while there is a Classical Conversations presence here, I will say no one applying really knows what we are attempting to do. They may recite our mission and purpose, but they have no real knowledge or understanding. There are no missionally aligned families out there. They need to be made.  

The administration must see to it that parents are taught more than just the portrait of the graduate and a bit about classical pedagogy. They need to experience the culture, the substance, and the beauty of the classical Christian movement. Although our movement is gaining in popularity, it is still in its infancy, and we cannot despise small beginnings (Zechariah 4:10 [ESV]).  

There is a lot of work to be done in our movement. We need to rise and build more schools and train more students, more families, and more teachers. Gibbs had the privilege of a classical Christian education, and I am sure that even he sees that what he had isn’t what a school can be. We really are trying to recover something we never experienced. It will take time.  

I imagine the crowd from Ezra 3, quoted above, really excited that the foundation of the temple was laid. The ones that had no memory of the glory of Solomon’s temple were joyous! It was the ones who remembered who wept. But we should not despise small beginnings. We don’t remember what it was like in the court of Charlemagne, being taught by Alcuin himself! We haven’t experienced the singing of the Te Deum during the Feast of St. Crispin on the anniversary of Henry V’s victory in the Battle of Agincourt—at least in a meaningful way. Our efforts seem shallow, but it is just a small beginning.  

To teachers, administrators, and students alike, don’t despair. Don’t get cynical. The recovery of a robust Christian culture is part of a battle that has really just begun. The beginning has been glorious for those of us who didn’t know any better. 

A couple months ago I had a conversation with a gentleman from a well-known community in Michigan who adored the community around the college and academy in his small town. His church, school, family, and friends have developed a great culture, so his question to me was this: Where is this in Neenah? My response was that it doesn’t exist . . . yet. The classical Christian school should be a catalyst for formations of such communities. But it takes time, prayer, vision, and effort.  

If I have a critique of my time in the classical Christian world, it is that we often don’t put enough time, prayer, and effort toward community building and working on a vision for what such a community might look like. We must build mission-aligned families and teachers in a blessed (modern word flourishing) community of faith.  

Until we have those blessed communities, remember and apply the words of Donald Rumsfeld in his memoir Known and Unknown: “You go to war with the army you have, not the army you might want or wish to have at a later time.”