Ambleside School of Fredericksburg director Maryellen St. Cyr is a major contributor to a new book, When Children Love to Learn: A Practical Application of Charlotte Mason’s Philosophy for Today.

The book, published this year by Crossway Books, is the fruit of many years of teaching and learning for the director of the five-year-old Christian school and educational organization, founded in 1999.

The book is a practical guide for implementing Charlotte Mason’s philosophy of education, on which Ambleside School of Fredericksburg is based.

Ambleside School student drawings are included as illustrations for the book. Ambleside School and the Ambleside curriculum, which is licensed to all Ambleside schools, is highlighted in a section of the book on “An Applied Philosophy,” written by Ms. St. Cyr.

“My idea of what this book is meant to do is encourage and instruct educators, whether home or school, to look into and apply these principles. These ideas have been a means of growth in my own life as a teacher and I’ve seen growth in children’s lives who are taught this way,” notes St. Cyr. “I wanted to give examples of ways it’s being applied in actual classrooms, so people can see it as something natural, something that comes from within, not just a veneer that’s applied.”

Maryellen St. Cyr, who has given conferences and training on Charlotte Mason education since 1996, also contributed to the book eight chapters on various distinctives of Charlotte Mason education. Her chapters include teaching poetry, Shakespeare, and narration—the primary method of Charlotte Mason education.

“Charlotte Mason was not an inventor but a discoverer of good ways to teach that have been used all along: teaching students to pay attention, providing the richest materials, holding them accountable for what they learn, establishing an atmosphere of freedom to take risks, and maintaining high expectations for excellence,” says St. Cyr.

Charlotte Mason (1942-1923) was a nationally recognized British educational reformer and practical theorist. She founded a teacher training college in Ambleside, England, and wrote six volumes on her philosophy and methods. Her ideas were the inspiration for an influential educational movement, which today is being revived around the world.

“The title of the book, When Children Love to Learn, tells what we hope to see more of in education,” she explains.

“We want to foster the child’s innate love of learning in all areas. We see in the early years a broader interest and motivation to learn. Later we often find children interested only in certain areas, whether music or sports, or one academic subject, but emotionally shut down in areas.

“In our classrooms, we are trying to create places where children can function more naturally in education, by cutting out the comparisons, or competition, the fear of failure or of not getting it right the first time. All children can flourish in this atmosphere, not just a certain kind of learner,” says St. Cyr.

“The reason children take to computers, for example, more easily than adults is because they’re inquisitive, unafraid. The same principle applies to math and literature. When children remain unafraid, they flourish.”

St. Cyr with her collaborators on the book, Bobby Scott, Jack Beckman and Susan Schaeffer Macaulay, decided to write the book when they were together in Ambleside, England, the cradle of Charlotte Mason education, in 1997. The group, sharing a vision for Charlotte Mason education in the U.S., saw the need to provide practical instruction from their experience with these educational principles, said Ms. St. Cyr.

Charlotte Mason education was first introduced to the U.S. in 1984 through Susan Schaeffer Macaulay’s popular For the Children’s Sake: Foundations of Education for Home and School.

Susan Schaeffer Macaulay is the daughter of Dr. Francis Schaeffer, Christian apologist and founder of L’Abri, the Swiss-based Christian retreat and reflection centers. Led more recently by Macaulay and her husband, both members of Ambleside’s international board, L’Abri centers have been a seedbed for the Charlotte Mason movement today.

When Children Love to Learn was written to be a “practical follow-up” to For the Children’s Sake. Since the publication of For the Children’s Sake, many people had written asking for practical instruction in applying Mason’s ideas in the classroom, says Elaine Cooper, editor of both books and a member of Ambleside’s international board.

In the 1990’s people also began coming to see the ideas in action in Atlanta, where Maryellen St. Cyr and Bobby Scott were both principals at Charlotte Mason schools.

Ambleside School of Fredericksburg now serves as a teacher-training center and model school for those interested in implementing Mason’s ideas in teaching. Some 100 interns from four continents have attended a three-day training internship at the school since 2000. Ambleside encourages other school start-up groups in various places from Switzerland and Brazil, to Oklahoma and New York. Ambleside Schools in San Angelo, Texas, and Reston, Vir., are under the direction of the Fredericksburg Ambleside.

Some major misconceptions about Charlotte Mason education, said Ms. St. Cyr, are “that it lacks rigor, that it’s laissez-faire, or that it’s Victorian, not applicable for our technological world.”

How do you get good work from children who aren’t competing in the classroom or getting grades? “It’s a big challenge, because culturally, we are losing our expectations for a high work ethic,” Ms. St. Cyr said.

“Any attempt at a task may be accepted instead of real effort being required. Multiple choice and true/false is easier for everyone than writing, which is more work for teachers and students. Children are often allowed to get used to getting things and doing things quickly.

“We walk students through a retraining and rethinking process, about what real work is. We want students to learn to think, and to be inspired by ideas, not things like rewards and punishments. We want them to be motivated by truths, such as that it’s rewarding to do a thing fully, and to be a part of something that’s challenging. There’s fruit for labor well done.”

In the lives her work is touching, and in her students’ love of learning, Ms. St. Cyr has found her efforts well rewarded.

—Anna Migeon

December 2004

Taking Pleasure in Good Things

Part 1: On Feeding Children

Childhood obesity is epidemic in America. Junk food consumption is at an all-time high. Ketchup is considered a vegetable. Children are refusing to eat real food. How is the culture weighing on us, as we strive to nourish our childen’s bodies, souls and spirits?

How can we we help our children learn to take pleasure in good things—which according to Aristotle is the aim of education?

Poor eating habits do not appear to be for parents’ lack of caring. Many parents are highly conscientious about “getting kids to eat.” There’s fear, in fact, that if we don’t push them to eat, and if we don’t give them what they’re willing to eat when they’re willing to eat it, they will be stunted and may starve. Eating anything is better than eating nothing at all.

At the other extreme of the parental pendulum of fear is the dread that if we do encourage children to enjoy food, they’ll become blimps, eating until they explode like overfed goldfish. The fear becomes reality as children eat too much of the junk that we keep available to make sure they have something to eat.

What’s malfunctioning as a result of these fears is the child’s natural appetite. As curiosity, or “knowledge-hunger” is the chief instrument of education according to Charlotte Mason, appetite is the chief instrument of physical nourishment. Research shows that a baby, when offered a balanced variety, will choose the right foods. The last time I fed a baby I found myself wanting to get her to eat “one more bite.” She knew when to stop, though. This healthy appetite and innate wisdom remain intact if children are offered good food consistently and without manipulation.

“Our job as parents is to offer delicious and healthful food. It is not our job to make sure they eat it,” writes Ellyn Satter, in How to get your Kid to Eat… But Not Too Much.

The natural human reaction to a push is resistance, and to a pull, to hold tighter. The more you interfere with your child’s appetite, the more he learns to disregard it, whether it’s signaling “eat” or “don’t eat.”

Jane Nelson in Positive Discipline tells about a mom whose four-year-old refused to eat. The mother scolded, pushed, nagged; the child got rickets. The doctor told her, “Leave her alone! Put nutritious food on the table, eat your own food, and mind your own business. Talk about pleasant things or else keep your mouth shut.”

The American Journal of Clinical Nutrition reported findings last year that over-regulation of a child’s eating can actually promote overeating, by encouraging an “undue preoccupation with food.” Charlotte Mason called it “thinking overmuch of what they shall eat and drink.” The report recommends: “Make plenty of healthful food choices available, and lighten up at mealtime.” That advice of course presumes a “mealtime.”

Many children aren’t used to eating regularly at the table. Many children watch TV, eat on the run, and generally view meals as a gas station for humans.

“No pains should be spared,” Charlotte Mason tells us, “to make the hours of meeting round the family table the brightest hours of the day. The children should enjoy their food, and their meals should be eaten in gladness.”

What better way to build relationships with your children and teach them to hold a conversation? Is it any surprise that statistics show that children who regularly eat dinner with their families abuse drugs and alcohol less, have a better diet and do better in school than those who don’t?

“Give them variety,” exhorts Charlotte Mason. Make available nourishing choices day after day, then cease to care how much or what your kids eat. Children will then feel free to eat as their hunger dictates. Or not, if they don’t want to, and that’s fine because it won’t last. Don’t cave in to requests for a different menu or offer bribes. The appetite will then kick in and drive eating, just as nature intends.

Developing your child’s natural appetite and consistency in meals are key tools to helping establish healthy eating habits and attitudes.

—Anna Migeon, September 2004

Taking Pleasure in Good Things

Part 2: The “Good Eater”

“He’s a good eater,” I hear parents say. A father once told me that his child “did great with the food” on a trip to Europe. “She’s not bad about trying new vegetables.” “Good job! You ate it all.” Extra points for cleaning the plate.

Do these evaluations suggest that eating good food is a satisfying delight or that it’s a praiseworthy act of self-denial?

A key idea in Charlotte Mason’s philosophy is the value and power of natural appetites. Like food, “knowledge is delectable,” she writes. The body is created to crave and enjoy the food it needs, as the mind is made for knowledge. Because of children’s genuine need for nourishment, both mental and physical, we have only to give them opportunities to naturally treasure what’s good for them.

If we don’t enjoy what’s good for us more than what’s bad, something’s wrong. As Aristotle asserts, the point of education is to learn to take pleasure in good things.

What happens when something that’s supposed to be a pleasure becomes externally motivated, an issue of duty and utility?

“Atrophy of the desire for knowledge is the penalty our scholars pay because we have chosen to make them work for inferior ends,” writes Mason. Lesser motives only interfere with the appetite.

Knowing when to back off and when to push is tricky for parents. There are indeed times when a child must learn to deny self or make an effort.

Eating, though, unlike the apprenticeship of good manners and habits of the table, is a natural act. Dr. Benjamin Spock tells parents never to ask a child to eat something. Indeed, if a normal child is faced with well-prepared food, what need is there to tell her what to do with it or to praise her for doing it?

I once saw a child wearing a t-shirt that said, “Reading for success.” Even if it were effective to tell a child that he will make more money when he’s thirty if he reads, it’s one of the saddest motives to do something that is its own reward. It’s like listening to Mozart to increase IQ, or hugging your spouse to improve your child’s self-image. Eating, like reading, is a time for life-giving enjoyment, satisfying and nourishing. Compensation in the form of praise or approval sends the wrong message. If it can be a pleasure, and it can, what better reason need we give?

When I was a child, if I didn’t want to eat something, my mom would give me the best reason to eat it: “Good. That leaves more for the rest of us.” It was manipulation but at least it was effective; I’m a “good eater.” I tried a similar response with my children when they said, “We don’t want any of that”:

“That’s good, because I didn’t really make enough for you children.”

They came back with, “Well, we want some!”

“Well, I guess you can have a little bite.”

And just that quickly, “No, a big bite!”

When I repeated the above exchange to a relative, though, she objected: “But they’re not learning to obey.”

Wouldn’t you rather children eat healthy foods with delightful satisfaction than out of a sense of duty?

Eating well shouldn’t be an uphill moral battle against all desires, but a natural and satisfying choice. A habit of enjoying good food creates a natural resistance to bad food. When casting out demons, don’t leave the house swept and empty; don’t count on sheer force of will to fill the vacuum, but fill it with the most delectable, nourishing possibilities. An ounce of replacement is worth a pound of repression.

“Habit is driven out by habit,” Charlotte Mason quotes Thomas à Kempis: “The fundamental law of education.”

The child’s natural appetite, faced with only good food made as appealing as is in your power, bolstered by regular and proper habits at the table, are the parent’s best allies for developing love of right food in children.

—Anna Migeon , October 2004

Taking Pleasure in Good Things

Part 3: Feeding on Demand Gone Wrong

A friend told me her child had, on waking that morning, asked for cupcakes. The cupcakes were baked, and the child had eaten nothing but cupcakes all day.

Besides the obvious health hazards in such a diet, what habits are being built? Charlotte Mason writes often of the difference between the tyranny of the will in "I want" and the strength of the will to develop as "I will." Becoming prisoners of "I want" starts in the kitchen, with "feeding on demand" gone wrong.

Parents’ natural impulse is to indulge children. We enjoy pleasing them. We also tend to give them what they want because it’s easy. "When we indulge our children around food, we are indulging ourselves," writes Dan Kindlon, Ph. D., in Too Much of a Good Thing: Raising children of Character in an Indulgent Age.

Furthermore, it’s currently popular parenting wisdom to give choices. Letting Billy choose between red and blue pants each morning will teach him to make decisions. A child’s opinions should be expressed: "Do you prefer peas or carrots, Jimmy?" "How is the creamed spinach?" "What’s your favorite food?"

Child Wise authors Ezzo and Bucknam warn of training a child to be "addicted to choice," with insistence on always having a choice. And as we all know, what children want is no indication of what they need. As Charlotte Mason writes, "They like lollipops but cannot live upon them."

How important is a child’s opinion on food? Does it matter that they like some things better than others? Do our children display gratitude, consideration for the cook, and gracious acceptance of all good gifts, or are they demanding and picky? It’s the difference between the delightful child who says, "Thank you, that was delicious," and the child who turns up his nose.

How can we cultivate good eating habits along with flexibility and contentment, instead of fussiness? Teaching children to delay or forego gratification and to deal gracefully with not getting what they want is essential for today’s child who has so much, according to Kindlon.

Parents in Bali conduct a ritual in which they "borrow" a baby to bring home to nurse and tend in front of their own baby, Dan Kindlon recounts. The goal is to cultivate their child’s equanimity in the face of frustration and denial of wishes.

Psychologists have found they can accurately predict how well a four-year old will do on his SATs by how long he is able to delay gratification, also an indicator for persistence against difficulties of all kinds.

Without right eating habits anticipation never builds, and instant gratification keeps appetite at a minimum. We no longer "drink water while you wait," or "wait till Dad gets home"; we have drive-through, frozen to microwave in seconds, along with instant credit, and forget about "waiting till we get married." Our culture encourages us to become slaves of what we want when we want it.

The opposite of indulgence isn’t forcing against the will, though. It’s holding your ground in choosing and offering what’s best for your child. If the child asks for a stone, or a serpent, shouldn’t we give her bread, or fish?

Cultivating joy in the good, the true and the beautiful takes time and effort. Every day, mealtime offers a new opportunity for teaching children self-control and appreciation of all good things that satisfy and nourish.

—Anna Migeon

For more on "I want" vs. "I will" see "Children as ‘Persons’" in The Story of Charlotte Mason, by Essex Cholmondley (available through Ambleside).

November 2004

The Story of Charlotte Mason

by Essex Cholmondley

306 pages

Find out more about our work in the classrooms of the Ambleside Schools, and about the source that gave them birth, including the teacher’s college at Ambleside, the Parents’ National Union, the PEU schools, The Parents’ Review, and the “Liberal education for all” movement.

First published in 1960, this biography was reprinted by Child Light Publications in 2000.

Charlotte Mason’s life story and her message in its simplicity and depth are told in many of Mason’s own words and by those who knew her best.

An influential educational reformer in England in the early 20th century, Mason developed an inspired “working philosophy of education.” The clarity and coherence of her applied philosophy of education gave rise to a simple, straightforward, and yet deeply satisfying enjoyment of learning for children.

The second part of the book includes writings by Charlotte Mason, notably the excellent essay “Children as ‘Persons’: Liberty Versus Various Forms of Tyranny,” and a memorial address for Charlotte Mason by W.G. de Burgh, given in 1923.

This book is offered exclusively by Ambleside. To order this book for $20 (including tax, shipping and handling), please mail your request and check along with your mailing address to:

Ambleside
Attn: Mary Littman
106 S. Edison Street
Fredericksburg, TX, 78624

High-Mindedness

As we approach Thanksgiving the thought of having a high-minded attitude of thanksgiving every day is before us. I hear the echo of Charlotte Mason’s words stating that there is no power of the will if one is always hemmed in by favorable circumstances. The power of strengthening the will is only exercised in the unfavorable.

The Mayflower Pilgrims lived, breathed, and died in the unfavorable—whether it was the stormy seas or those who scoffed at them. Their character as a people has lived on as we remember their steadfastness and faith admidst troubling events.

Troubling events and heroic persons did not begin nor end with the Mayflower Pilgrims. Among those lives we hold up as examples that we would all be the stronger to imitate is Vice Admiral Jim Stockdale, a navy fighter pilot. Stockdale was shot down and imprisoned for eight years during the Vietnam War. His wanderings, like those of the Pilgrims, were in a foreign land, as from cell to cell his captors tried to weaken him physically through torture, and emotionally through isolation and darkness. In his book In Love and War, he describes how he spent some of this time during these adverse circumstances.

“Being absolutely alone and underweight that spring put me into a state of great high-mindedness. I had many mental adventures, and my memory had never worked so well; I could bring up details from my childhood that were inaccessible in the clutter of conversational life. One of the greatest gifts I ever received in prison was sent over to my cell in “Alcatrez” [windowless cement boxes that were dark by day, light by night where prisoners were in leg irons] by Bob Schumaker (via finger signals). Bob had sent: “If you get stuck alone, remember that e to the x is equal to the sum, from n equals one to n equals infinity, of the expression x to the n minus one, over n minus one, factorially.”

I had memorized that, in the way we all filled up our dried-out minds with memory data in solitary. There alone in room 5, I realized Bob had given me a precious instrument. It was the “Taylor” expansion for exponential function, and with it I had the key to natural logarithms that could be calculated to decimal places in four or five iterations with a stick in the dust. Over the weeks I reconstructed, by gently tickling my memory, the logic of the whole exponential system of numbers….”

Stockdale went on to exercise his mind at great length on these matters, to the extent that he became, as he writes, “became the world’s greatest authority on the exponential curve.”

He goes on: “I spent a month thinking about the physics of the musical scales, and concluded that what sounded like a symmetrical scale to our ears was not mathematically symmetrical and thus must be a cultural adaptation. To conclude that, I first had to deduce that the frequencies of the tones of adjacent keys (blacks and whites) on the piano keyboard were related by a single proportionally constant. That being so, it seemed reasonable (after a couple of weeks of uninterrupted thought) that this proportionally constant had to be the twelfth root of 2- which I quickly calculated, in the dust with my stick, to be 1.0595. I also spent a lot of time thinking about the wonders of the human body….

This high-mindedness played out in his thinking from logarithms to anatomy. And, although he focused on data, it was not void of the ideas of appreciation of fellow prisoners and wonderment of created things. These ideas filled his mind and heart. They brought him the nourishment he needed to strengthen himself in this difficulty. He was empowered to meet each day and make choices that allowed him to uphold the Naval Code and deeply held values. Even though he did succumb at times during the torture, he was unflinching in his determination. He faced his adversaries and the torture and endured it for a time, rather than becoming their “slave” from the outset. Because of his persistent spirit he led prisoners in hunger strikes and developed systems of communication that upheld hundreds of prisoners. Whatever a man thinketh, so is he.

This holiday season affords us all an opportunity to examine our actions, and therefore our thoughts—indeed our choosings. Are we persons who hem ourselves and our children in with favorable circumstances at all costs? Do we allow their complainings and murmurings to move us ? Do we will to be persons of character or are we marked by any and all manner of weakness? Or are we allowing the unfavorable circumstances to give ourselves and our children opportunities to strengthen our wills, regardless ?

Jim Stockdale at forty-nine years old looks forward to being reunited with his family for the first time in eight long years: four sons ranging in ages from two to 14 when he was captured, now 10-22 years old. Years have disappeared, gone. He wonders if we can put it all together again. Yes, he wills it. This family can survive. He thinks about his wife Syb: “She’s been carrying enough responsibility to crush a normal person. God, let me help her properly now. Help me to let her know how much I love her.” The strength of his choosing lived on and continues.

—Maryellen St. Cyr - November, 2003

Children Serving Others

Truth is spoken throughout all ages. And the same truth of how we are to live in relationship with oneself and in relationship with others can be gleaned from the writings of John Winthrop (1630) and William Damon (1995).

Winthrop delivered his sermon, "A Model of Christian Charity," to seven hundred immigrants journeying by sea to the New World in 1630.

One can only imagine the scarcity of the resources available on such a voyage for one, let alone seven hundred plus one. Yet, his exhortation was that “every man afford his help to another in every want or distress; secondly, that he perform this out of the same affection which makes him careful of his own goods.”

Throughout history we have seen a polarization: self or others, rather than self and others. We can see this polarization in our own lives as well.

Like Winthrop, we must be deliberate in considering others, in giving and serving others, momentarily moving beyond ourselves, in acts of service and in response to a need.

There are indeed extraordinary times when we are called to serve, but Winthrop’s plea was for life in ordinary times, a daily liberality “that every man might have need of others, and from hence they might be knit more nearly together in the bonds of brotherly affection.”

The question for us is: how do we rear children to live in these ordinary times in brotherly affectionate service to others?

William Damon, in his 1995 book Greater Expectations, speaks about the debilitating affect we have on children when we spare them from demanding challenges and expectations of service to others:

It does them a disservice because it robs them of opportunities to establish their sense of competence and the sense of social responsibility. It imparts to children exactly the wrong pair of messages: (1) that they are incapable of accomplishing anything and (2) that they are living only for themselves. The first message belies the child’s natural endowment of intelligence, hardiness, and energy. The second goes against the grain of what it means to be a fully developed human. Removing service from children’s lives is misdirected enough, but many families in modern society go even further.

Not only do they relieve children of the expectations to serve others, they alleviate them of responsibilities for their own personal care. Busy parents get children dressed long after the children are able to dress themselves, because the parents believe that it is quicker and easier that way. Parents make their children’s beds, clean up after them, make them sandwiches and snacks, drive them distances that could be easily and safely walked or biked—all out of a sense that asking such things of children would be either too much trouble for the parent or straining the capacities of the child.

In systematically underestimating the child’s capabilities, we are limiting the child’s potential for growth. In withholding from children the expectation to serve others as well as care for themselves, we are preventing them from acquiring a sense of social and personal responsibility. We are leaving the child to dwell on nothing more noble than gratifying the self’s moment-by-moment inclinations. In the end, this orientation is a particularly unsatisfying form of self-centeredness, because it creates a focus on a personal self that has no special skills or valued services to offer anyone else.

It is our role to orient children to bear responsibility for themselves as well as others. Children are to be responsible to lend a hand, finish chores, help a sibling, serve a neighbor, befriend a person, comfort the weak, and care for the elderly. There are a host of possibilities in our ordinary lives. Let us not wait for extraordinary times.

—Maryellen St. Cyr

Maryellen St. Cyr is the founder and executive director of Ambleside.

Approaching Your Child’s Report of Progress

Ambleside parents will soon receive a written mid-year report of their child’s progress this year. Upon opening an Ambleside Report, you will probably notice two things: first, it contains far more information on a far more global scale than do standard report cards. Second, it lacks a simple quantifying of student academic performance in terms of number or letter grades.

Given our competitive society, it is quite natural for such questions as “Is my child passing?” or “Is my child a top student?” to arise in parents’ minds. And, Ambleside Reports do not provide ready answers to such questions. Let me suggest that the reason Ambleside Reports do not answer such questions is that they are not the best kinds of question to ask. Such questions tend to reduce education to a question of performance rather than age-appropriate growth and development. Such questions tend to reduce education to the mastery of certain data and techniques rather than the cultivation of the heart and mind. Such questions tend to promote an atmosphere of narcissistic competitiveness rather than growth and learning.

Far better questions are: “How has my child been growing in relationship to self, others, learning in general, and the mastery of particular disciplines?” and “What are the next steps in my child’s growth?” Such questions cannot be answered by a simple letter grade. But, in the Ambleside Report you will find a wealth of information answering just such questions.

Our hope is that these Reports will provide you with a greater understanding of your child and promote parent-teacher collaboration in supporting your children as they take the next steps in growth.

—Dr. Bill St. Cyr

Dr. Bill St. Cyr teaches in the Upper School at Ambleside School of Fredericksburg. He is also a pastoral counselor and conference speaker.

January 2002

Parents as Sowers of Ideas

We found that it rests with the parents of the child to settle for the future man his ways of thinking, behaving, feeling, acting; his disposition, his particular talent; the manner of things upon which his thoughts shall run. The destiny of the child is ruled by his parents, because they have the virgin soil all to themselves. The first sowing must be at their hands, or at the hands of such as they choose to depute. What do parents sow? Ideas.

--Charlotte Mason

in Parents and Children

Charlotte Mason counsels us as parents and educators to see the great responsibility before us that we are to be about the work of sustaining a life through the realm of ideas. Just how might this work be accomplished? In natural ways rather than artificial ones, Miss Mason thought.

She often spoke of investing an atmosphere with ideas rather than striking as with a weapon. Yet, we can all recall our own use of weaponry as we have deliberately tried to target a child’s conscience or behavior. This is not to say that a fireside chat or a good old-fashioned lesson is taboo. They are to be used sparingly. But it is to say that in everyday life we are to be about the work of drawing inspiration casually from the life around us. Thus, ideas are built in rather than hammered in.

Everyday life affords us opportunity to bring along the child in an active way, through the comings and goings, eatings and cleanings, risings and restings. It is here the child captures ideas about life’s great relationships (with God, husband and wife, siblings, the weak, elderly, friends) and duties (worship, work, rest, leisure, exercise, service).

Take just a few moments to reflect upon your child’s ideas of these great relationships and duties of life. Are they giving forth life or are they deterring life from within the child?

Parents pass on their heritage of right thinking and relating while being with their children. As you live life a myriad of relationships come forth and opportunities will arise in which you can be there to provide sustenance for living. We have opportunities daily to consider with our children how to be truly neighborly, and to insure that all work is done well, whether it’s pulling weeds or doing homework. The alternative lurks noisily behind technology and culture, which beckon your child to be both passive and resistant to others outside of self.

—Maryellen St. Cyr

Maryellen St. Cyr is the founder and executive director of Ambleside.

Conversation as a Means of Education

Educationists are too often apt to underrate the effect of massive influences. They think much of precept and of example. They cannot be accused of setting too little value upon habit, but they do not sufficiently consider the result of the surroundings of daily life; how almost imperceptibly the environment moulds and fashions the mind and character, just as the soil and the climate of a country determine the physical condition of its inhabitants. If this were not so, we should find many influences brought to bear upon students in our large public schools which are at present neglected. It is highly important that our children should be acquainted with the best art, in painting, sculpture and music. There was once a public schoolmaster who filled his boarding house with photographs of the pictures of the best masters. The pupil-room, the reading-room, the walls of the corridors were covered with them. He lent them freely to his pupils to hang up in their own studies, where they gradually displaced the boating and coaching pictures of an earlier date. When a pupil left, if he happened to have become attached to a particular picture, the master would make him a present of it, and the gift often formed the nucleus of a new collection at Oxford. It would be difficult to exaggerate the effect produced by this wise system. In some cases the pupil himself became an artist, or at least a well-educated and competent critic of art. At all events, he learned to distinguish between the good and the bad, and he was rendered less likely to spend his future in buying trash. Accident gave this master an opportunity of estimating the result of his system. A pupil, who had left his care at an early age, went afterwards to the University, where he died very young from the effects of a painful accident. His family treasured up the cherished belongings which their lost son had left behind him, and placed the pictures which had adorned his college rooms in the hall of their own house. The master, on a visit there, noticed that they were all of a high artistic value, and were all pictures which his pupil had first become acquainted with in his own house. The influences, which had half-unconsciously surrounded the boy of fourteen, eventually formed the taste of the man of twenty.

A similar course might be pursued with music. There is an impression that classical music is dull, and that it is more natural for a child to like ballads, or comic songs, or Sullivan’s operas, than the works of Beethoven or Mozart. But if you take care that these masters are constantly performed in his presence it will be found that they have produced a strong effect without attention having been specially directed towards them. Schoolmasters and parents should not neglect the opportunities, which they possess in such profusion. Schoolrooms and passages, now given up to whitewash or to the carving of names, should be decorated with inexpensive copies of the best art, and, if possible, with casts from the best sculpture. The schoolrooms of Hantor are paneled with costly oak; there are yards of wall, and a mile of corridor; the wall above the oak, too high for the scratching of names, is neatly whitewashed. A little expenditure of money with a large outlay of thought might fill these bare walls with the friezes of the Parthenon or with the masterpieces of Thorwaldsen and Gibson. Of the moral effect produced by the contemplation of beautiful things I do not speak – I only dwell on the education in art thus cheaply and easily to be secured.

Among those massive influences which are at present so much neglected there is none more potent than conversation; yet parents and teachers suffer the opportunities it offers to pass away unemployed. I am far from wishing to revive the schools of Dr. Blimber and Mr. Barlow. To regard all intercourse with children and every event of their lives as a means of instruction would, if it produced any effect at all, generate a race of prigs and pedants. It is not to isolated and individual attacks on ignorance and boorishness that I wish to draw attention, but to the massive effect of an abiding environment of culture. Listen to the talk of a number of schoolboys at the dinner table. They rush into the room hot and excited by games. Glasses of beer are tossed off before the meat is served unless a wise rule prevents it. The chatter begins. Every detail of the game is discussed with eagerness – how this catch was missed and that kick was well delivered; how Jones was not in form; and how they would have won if it had not been for the umpire. But their talk is from the teeth outwards. Listen to it carefully and you will find that it scarcely contains a grain of thought. Sentences are begun before the speaker knows what he is talking about. The talk is for the sake of talking. It is mere senseless babble like the twittering of birds, painful to the listeners, demoralizing to the chatterer. Most schoolmasters feel this and they try to remedy it in different ways. Many forbid talking at meals altogether. Surely this is a mistake. Conversation is the natural accompaniment of a common meal. Silence produces moodiness, distrust between teacher and pupil, and last but not least, indigestion. Some teachers allow their pupils to read at table – a vile practice, unhealthy, unmannerly, and unsociable. Some let the current flow on in its own wayward way, with the results that I have endeavored to describe. The wise mentor does his best to regulate the torrent, and to substitute something better in its place. A wise mentor will say, “I will have no talk about games, no ‘athletic shop’ in my hearing. Any boy who offends must leave the room.” Not that all talk about athletics is contemptible. Games may form the subject of rational conversation as well as politics or literature. But the few who can talk thus sensibly suffer for the fault of the many. The prohibition is not felt to be harsh. Another type of conversation soon grows up. The topics of the day are discussed; small talk and persiflage extend their butterfly wings. The school-table assumes the aspect of a civilized dinner party. The master, if he is competent, knows when to lead and when to follow. He catches up the ball thrown by a happy hit and returns it gracefully, skillful when to suggest a novelty and when to suppress what is becoming a bore.

Much also may be done by the presence of ladies and other visitors. Some masters take their private meals by themselves, and merely appear at the house dinner as carvers. This is surely wrong. Why should the wit and the fun and the good-sense be kept for the private dining room, while dullness and ungraceful rusticity is unrestrained in the boys’ hall. A good master will make his boys’ dinner his own and that of his friends. He will say to his visitors: “If you stay with me, you must live as I live.” Those who have not tried do not know the effect that the presence of cultured ladies has on the conduct of the boys’ mid-day meal. After a short time shyness disappears. “Game-shop” becomes impossible. The talk, the manners, the conversation becomes those of a well ordered home. The result is admirable, and does not cease when the dinner is over.

Englishmen have the reputation of not being good talkers. They are either silent or monosyllabic. They monologise, or they go off in pairs. The essence of good talk is that it is general. Every one says what every one is interested to hear; each has his turn.

No one is too lengthy or too wearisome, or too much absorbed in the point he wishes to make. At the last of the great French salons the lady of the house sat in the center of a group. She heard everything that was said. If the company was numerous, two groups were formed, but pairing off was not allowed. There is a distinguished club in London, which exists for the purpose of conversation only. But more than three of its members are never seen talking together, rarely more than two, consequently the evenings are very dull. The existence of this national defect should not induce us to acquiesce in it, but should stimulate us to remedy it. Children trained in the habit of rational conversation will not lose it as they grow older.

The encouragement of rational conversation will also tend to check that coarse and vulgar familiarity which is injurious to the finest qualities of the character. The development of mutual respect amongst children is a powerful help to the more subtle virtues. The Jansenists of Port Royal laid great stress upon this, and never allowed ceremonious courtesy to be dropped amongst their pupils. There is no more elevating influence in a society of young people than the idea that each of them has a responsible and perhaps an important part to play in the world, and the consciousness that the limits of each individuality must be duly respected. There are few things more demoralizing than the rough-and-tumble good fellowship for which no privacy is sacred, which despises even when it seems to love, and which tends to reduce the standard of all to the level of the lowest. A friendship founded on mutual esteem, and a tender reverence for divergent opinions, strengthens the character and the will far more than the chance camaraderie based on the intimate knowledge of common weaknesses. Conversation may even have higher uses than these. An undergraduate conspicuous amongst his fellows as much for purity and simplicity of mind as for ability, told me that he had been educated until the age of seventeen, at a school where not only vice was unknown, but where he had never heard anything from his school-fellows which might not have been said before his sisters. No special supervision was exercised, but the pupils, who came generally from well-regulated homes, were told to talk to each other as they would if they were at home. The habit of rational conversation sprang up and became inveterate in the school. The result in the case I here mention was the preservation of the most delicate bloom of manliness. No one was more generally known and more popular in the University, and no one was more fitted to associate in perfect sympathy and dignity with all sorts and conditions of men.

-Oscar Browning

Oscar Browning was an assistant headmaster and educator at Eton in the late 1800’s.

From the Principal

Making the Grade

Grades are so central to our educational system that parents may feel unsettled about their child’s progress without such comfortable and seemingly natural and indispensable ways of evaluating a child’s educational development. Alfie Kohn, in his 1993 book Punished by Rewards: The Trouble with Gold Stars, Incentive Plans, A’s, Praise, and Other Bribes, encourages us to question such accepted practices and views in education: “On general principal, it is a good idea to challenge ourselves in this way about anything we have come to take for granted; the more habitual, the more valuable this line of inquiry,” he asserts.

Kohn’s case against grading, built on strong reasoning and overwhelming research, thoroughly disproves the accepted views that grades are constructive tools for motivating students or informing and guiding them. Kohn reveals many ways that grading actually erodes interest, pleasure, and initiative in learning.

“A classroom that feels safe to students is one in which they are free to admit when they don’t understand something and are able to ask for help,” Kohn writes. “Ironically, grades and tests, punishments and rewards, are the enemies of safety; they therefore reduce the probability that students will speak up and that truly productive evaluation can take place.”

He notes, “Grades cannot be justified on the grounds that they motivate students, because they actually undermine the sort of motivation that leads to excellence. Using them to sort students undercuts our efforts to educate. And to the extent we want to offer students feedback about their performance—a goal that demands a certain amount of caution lest their involvement in the task itself be sacrificed—there are better ways to do this than by giving grades.”

At Ambleside, we thoughtfully seek to evaluate student progress, to lead children to the highest motivations in learning. Other private schools around the nation are also moving toward alternative forms of evaluation.

“It makes sense for parents to consider putting aside grades and scores as indicators of success and to look instead at the child’s interest in learning,” notes Kohn. “This is the primary criterion by which schools (and our own actions) should be judged.”

— Maryellen St. Cyr

Maryellen St. Cyr is the founder and executive director of Ambleside.

February 2003

Shepherding a Child’s Heart

by Tedd Tripp

What would your child say if asked to complete this sentence: “What Mom and Dad want for me is. . .”?

What’s your definition of success for your child? A well-behaved child? A well-educated one? A “saved” child? A happy child? By what standard do we evaluate the multitude of parenting methods and goals? In Shepherding a Child’s Heart, Tedd Tripp begins with a discomforting evaluation of common goals and methods in child rearing of infants through teens, through the lense of the Scripture.

In our current child-rearing atmosphere of “positive reinforcements” and “consequences,” Tripp’s is a countercultural view of parenting indeed. While we are often content to change our child’s unacceptable behavior to more agreeable behavior, Tripp’s purpose is to help us “engage in hand-to-hand combat on the world’s smallest battlefield, the child’s heart,” from which all behavior issues.

Tripp discusses how to address character flaws instead of merely bad behavior, beyond punishment to true correction, how to move from “superficial parenting” to addressing motives and attitudes. He urges directing our children to grace and to God’s standard of a changed heart, not the false gods of pleasure, approval, acceptance: “A change of behavior that does not stem from a change in heart is not commendable; it is condemnable,” asserts Tripp.

This book is less about providing constructive shaping influences—though important—and more about guiding children in their responses to those influences, and in the “Godward orientation” of their hearts.

The first biblical method to match biblical goals for our children that Tripp advocates is a life of communication with our children. The book offers suggestions for getting beyond “why did you do that?” in helping children understand and interpret their own behavior as a result of their heart attitudes and motivations. He also makes a well-thought out and convincing case for a more surprising and even less-popular tool for parenting: spanking.

This book will challenge and redirect your thinking on raising children, and take you to an objective look at the popular wisdom.

—Anna Migeon, November 2002

We pander to their desires and wishes. We teach them to find their soul’s delight in going places and doing things. We attempt to satisfy their lust for excitement. We fill their young lives with distractions from God. We give them material things and take delight in their delight in possessions. Then we hope that somewhere down the line they will see that a life worth living is found only in knowing and serving God.

—T. Tripp

Ambleside Hosts Swiss Apprentice

FREDERICKSBURG, TEXAS —- When Theres Leistner returns home to Switzerland on Thanksgiving Day after spending three months at Ambleside School of Fredericksburg, she and her family will take more than memories with them.

Ms. Leistner came to Fredericksburg to study Charlotte Mason education. Her daughters Rebekka, 8, and Christina, 10, have attended Ambleside. For the last ten days of their stay, her husband, Peter, joined them in Fredericksburg.

Theres said she has been impressed by the history and heritage of Fredericksburg’s German settlers and their courage in adverse circumstances.

“People have been very friendly to us here, and open to new things,” she said. “They love children.”

Ms. Leistner spent her time at Ambleside observing classes, and studying and translating books by or about Charlotte Mason, including one of Mason’s six volumes on education.

Ambleside Principal Maryellen St. Cyr, with whom the Leistners lived during their stay, guided her in her studies. Ms. Leistner also joined a group of eight teachers from the new Ambleside School of San Angelo in a three-day Internship at the school in October.

Theres Leistner is from a small town near Zurich where she was a teacher until her children were born.

She began thinking about a Christian education for her daughters when they were still young, but exactly how a Christian education would differ from Swiss public schools wasn’t clear to her. She began reading and attending conferences on education.

After Christina started school, the need for an educational alterative became more urgent, as the values she was learning at school conflicted with her upbringing at home. Over the past few years, other parents among the Leistners’ friends have also come to see the need for a change.

The Leistners learned about Charlotte Mason education through Bill St. Cyr, Ambleside teacher and pastoral counselor. St. Cyr has given several Christian seminars in the Leistners’ area. He told her, “If you’re interested in Christian education, come and live among us and see how it works. I can’t describe it; you have to see it.”

Private schools make up about 5% of the total in Switzerland, and they are very expensive, Ms. Leistner says. “The socialistic influences on our government is anti-God and humanistic, and they say that the solution is to make the state responsible for educating, not parents, said Ms. Leistner. “Some parents are glad to hand their children over.”

“In Switzerland, if you have different ideas about education, you’re among the few. Here, I’ve found that I’m on the right track, she added. “My idea of what education should be lives here. I’m encouraged to continue to study Charlotte Mason’s ideas. She gives responsibility back to children and parents, and teaches that children are persons and can learn to think for themselves. God has put good things in children, and they can learn to build their own lives.”

The Leistner girls knew very little English when they arrived at the beginning of September, but now have no trouble communicating.

The girls have changed through their experience here in Fredericksburg, Ms. Leistner reports. They have become more courageous, and have built good relationships with their classmates here. They have grown in their understanding of the difference between selfishness and serving others.

“In Switzerland, there are parents who send their children to psychiatrists because they are failing in school,” she said. “There is such fear about not being good enough. At Ambleside, failure is not an issue in that way. If you truly give your best, it’s good enough. My children have struggled to learn English here, but they didn’t have to feel that they were failing as long as they are making progress and putting forth their best effort. The teachers were always interested in helping them find solutions to their problems.”

In Switzerland, the focus for students is often on being the best, with little concern for other people, she reports.

“Though we have been homesick sometimes, we appreciate the relationship among students here. There’s a freedom; the children aren’t screaming at each other, but playing well together. I see children opening doors for each other. We were impressed that the older and young children play together at break. There are no outsiders.””

“It’s human nature to be self-occupied,” she notes. “When we continually think only of ourselves, it’s stamped on our face and heart, the way a coin is minted. It’s the print of God I see on the face of the child who is learning to care for others.”

Upon her return home, Ms. Leistner intends to start an Ambleside School in Switzerland.

“My hope is that, as a Christian, I can show another way and become a part of offering a real educational alternative in Switzerland,” says Ms. Leistner, adding that while there are many obstacles, as with the Fredericksburg pioneers, starting a school will be like “going to a new land.”

-- Anna Migeon

November 21, 2003

The Education of the Will

Gleeful exclamations, bright eyes, a responsive heart, an alert mind, busy hands characterize the child who, given a task, moves with eagerness towards its fulfillment. Thankfully, we find such movements in all of our children. Yet, we also find their opposite: disdainful looks, begrudging spirits, bemoaning pleas, distracted minds, and slack hands. We then face the temptation to rationalize the child’s lack of response with “It’s not his interest,” or “It’s not his strong suit,” or “She’s tired,” “She’s fighting a cold,” “He’s easily distracted,” or “He likes working alone.”

It is easy for us to justify the child’s lack of self-government in seemingly unimportant tasks as participation in chores or caring for personal items. The ever-present danger is that this behavior then repeats itself in important matters such as work poorly executed and human relationships left uncultivated. As parents and teachers we spend countless hours ruminating over how to guide our children out of such a wasteland.

Charlotte Mason recognized “the government of the will” as essential to fully human functioning. Will is the human power to shape the passions, the appetites and the desires. In order that the will fulfill its proper function in the life of the child, parents must strengthen the will by instructing the child in his duties and holding the child to the proper completion of those duties. Miss Mason wrote at length regarding the will in her volumes Home Education and The Philosophy of Education. The following is a short synopsis of her thoughts on the “Way of the Will.”

· Exercise of the will requires recognition of a standard greater than the self. Each child (and parent) knows all too well what it means to live by impulse, to be ruled by self-centered desire and passion. Yet, there is within each child an innate capacity to recognize a standard higher then self. Parent and teacher have the responsibility of pointing to this higher standard.

· The child can only choose that which he knows to be a possibility for himself. Each child must be provided a rich reservoir of noble, true, and inspiring thoughts. Free expression of the uninstructed self only leads to a strengthening of the basest parts of the child’s personality. When inspired by the good, true, and beautiful as presented in great books, pictures, nature, and the example of virtuous men and women, the heart of the child is quickened to new possibilities. By these are the conscience instructed and the will stimulated. New and appealing possible choices are opened to the child.

· The duty of self-direction belongs to the child and the necessary powers for this direction are lodged in him. The child must know something of his own nature, his senses and appetites, his intellect, imagination, and aesthetic sense, his moral nature ordered towards love and justice, and most importantly that it is within his power to move in one direction or another.

· The power of self-direction is nothing more and nothing less than the power to direct one’s thoughts. To be human is to be afflicted at times by base thoughts and desires. Yet, it is that upon which the mind dwells that it feeds. Dwell upon some small offense and anger grows. Focus upon one’s own capacity to forgive and anger abates. Dwell upon the effort and discomfort necessary to complete a task and its weight begins to grow. Focus upon the satisfaction that comes from good effort spent in the right direction, and the burden grows light. The child must experience his own power to direct his thoughts.

· The occasions that allow us to put this into practice do not come in great matters but in everyday occurrences. It is in response to little challenges and small temptations that the skill of directing one’s own thoughts is to be cultivated. While acknowledging the reality of a particular feeling or desire, parent and teacher must point beyond that which has momentarily ensnared the child. The child can then move his attention in a more fruitful direction. The more a child practices the art of controlling his thoughts, of moving them in more profitable direction, the more adept he becomes.

Daily application of the principles that Charlotte Mason sets forth cultivates within the child the capacity to guide his own life in a virtuous direction. These principles cannot be applied by mere verbal instruction, but must be used by parent and teacher to guide the child in responding to the daily challenges of life. As teachers, we sometimes encounter students whose work is below expectation, not for want of intelligence but for want of willing. The student may choose a haphazard approach to tasks, resulting in incomplete, messy work.

The teacher has two options. One option is to ignore the faulty work. The other option is confront the problem. In confronting the problem, the conflict is not between student and teacher, but between the student and his choosing. And it must be addressed in this manner. For example: “It seems to me from looking at your work, you did not follow directions in thoroughness and neatness. Is there any reason for lack of effort in these areas? How might you remedy this assignment?”

The student must then make amends by completing the work in a manner that meets the expectation. If this is a continuous problem, the student may need to come to an understanding that he is yielding to the ideas of not finishing a task, moving to the next thing prematurely, etc. Give him insight to his choosing by helping him see the ideas he is choosing, to recognize the difference between impulsiveness and thoughtfulness. New habits are not cultivated by a single correction. Our work is to persevere in this training by being faithful to confront the child on these occasions so he will not grow weaker still.

Here is a concluding thought from Dr. Morell’s Introduction to Mental Philosophy: “The education of the will is really of far greater importance, as shaping the destiny of the individual, than that of the intellect. … Theory and doctrine, and inculcation of laws and propositions, will never of themselves lead to the uniform habit of right action. It is by doing, that we learn to do; by overcoming, that we learn to overcome; and every right act which we cause to spring out of pure principles, whether by authority, precept, or example, will have greater formation of character than all the theory in the world.”

—Maryellen St. Cyr
September 2003

Book Review - Reviving Ophelia: Saving the Selves of Adolescent Girls

An eye-opening look at the everyday dangers of being young and female and how adults can help (1994)

By Mary Pipher, Ph.D.

America today is “ girl-destroying place,” according to Mary Pipher, author of the 1994 bestseller Reviving Ophelia.

Reviving Ophelia is a heart-rending look at the life of the typical early adolescent girl and the culture in which she is immersed. While parents often take the blame for the multitude of problems that the average adolescent girl falls prey to today, Pipher examines the role that our “dysfunctional culture” is playing in the vast number of young girls who are living out a parent’s worst nightmare: sexually-transmitted diseases, teen pregnancy, drugs and alcohol, addictions, eating disorders, body piercings, self-mutilation, violence and abuse, hostility and rebellion. What’s happening and what can we as parents and educators do about it?

As a psychotherapist Pipher strives to “empower people, help them be more in control of their lives and enhance their relationships with others.” This book is filled with “stories from the front lines” of her therapy sessions with young girls.

Pipher calls early adolescence “a social and developmental Bermuda Triangle” where the “selves of girls go down in droves.” Pipher analyzes the dramatic shift in many girls from confident, active and cheerful elementary student to a middle schooler who puts forth a “false self,” whose main interest becomes pleasing others, fitting in, and concealing her competence. Pipher stresses the importance to our young daughters’ adult lives of winning this “battle for the self” fought in early adolescence.

Pipher looks critically for answers to the fact that many girls’ achievement declines after grade school. In a study that seems to reflect the norm, the best writers and artists in a group of gifted children were girls, but only boys went on to achieve in those fields.

Among the discouraging messages our culture sends is that boys succeed due to ability, or if they fail, it’s for reasons other than lack of ability. Girls, on the other hand, are thought to do well by working hard or by good luck, while any failure is attributed to lack of ability, thus undermining their confidence.

Consumerism, materialism, smut and other disturbing messages in the ubiquitous media all contribute to what Pipher calls our “girl-poisoning culture,” which values beauty above all. “Lookism,” as the author calls it, values a young woman according to her physical attractiveness by society’s standards, and pressures young girls to look good at all costs, while being smart is a liability. In 1994, at any given time, half of teen girls were on a diet and one in five had an eating disorder.

On top of the pressure to please others, society also pushes young girls to distance themselves from their families, leaving them more vulnerable to destructive demands of the culture.

For parents, Pipher identifies certain factors that can strengthen girls against the damaging effects of our culture. For example, parents who are “high in control and high in acceptance (strict but loving parents)” can help their teens become self-reliant and socially responsible.

This book offers a valuable glimpse into the reality around us, and real insight into what can hinder our daughters from living a full and free life straight through the teenage years and beyond.

-Anna Migeon

September 2003

“WERE YOU THERE?” The Passion of The Christ and the Lost Art of Christian Meditation

This generation owes a debt of gratitude to Mel Gibson for having dared use the power of modern media to bring before the eyes of millions the fruit of what unfortunately has become a lost or rare art: the art of Christian meditation.

The movie begins with an ancient quotation (700 B.C.) from Isaiah 53:5: "But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed." This is the theme of the movie that runs through it from beginning to end.

After the quote the movie goes on to recreate the events of our Lord's Passion from theGarden of Gethsemane to the Resurrection, with brief flashbacks to revealing the meaning of Christ's sacrifice in light of his own teaching.
Although it will surprise many, in a sense, there is nothing new in this story. It is a part of the Gospel story that every devout Christian, nourished in the historical Church, has seen in his mind’s eye time and time again, as he follows the Church calendar, reliving in real time the various aspects of our Lord's earthly life, especially the last moments rehearsed during Holy Week.
In fact, this is a Good Friday movie; therefore, it is bound to be misunderstood by a culture which has lost sight of the reality and meaning of Good Friday in its context of the Gospel story and its implications for the world. Just like Good Friday, this movie is the kind of experience that should be undertaken only after due preparation.

I believe this is the greatest problem that this movie may present. It will probably take millions of viewers unfortunately unprepared. Since people seldom read any more, and those who read do not meditate, even many Christians' acquaintance with the Gospel's story is superficial and incomplete. Therefore, many viewers will leave the theater in complete shock.

It was interesting that, at 5:30 p.m. of the Thursday after Ash Wednesday, the audience in the packed theater appeared to me somehow unusual. It gave me the impression that the movie had drawn all sorts of people, even those who had not been to the movies in years. There were also many families (with children), some of which, it seemed to me, were there as if they were coming to a Friday youth meeting or summer camp. They were ready with bowls of popcorn and soda in hand eagerly waiting to participate in holy Christian entertainment.

It will not surprise me to hear that they were shocked or disappointed. The Passion is not an entertaining movie. I know that every one around me cried with me, and I have no idea of any other reaction to the movie as the people abandoned the theater in solemn silence.

The contrast between before and after was clearly visible. As I was coming out I noted a new full line of people chatting, with their share of popcorn and soda, while they waited for the theater to be cleaned to enter for the next showing. I could feel the weight of their scanning as they unsuccessfully searched for feedback from the unusually silent crowd departing from the theater. "Another round of unprepared people," I thought.
But what can one say? They will only find out how unprepared they were if after the movie they decide to go to a church that understands the value of Christian meditation and learn to read the Gospel with contemplative eyes. Then they will realize that all that brutality has been actually there in the Gospel Story all the while, with real people of flesh and blood. They will join the countless multitude of Christians through the ages that have been, without watching the movie, already there. With them they will realize that there is even more there than they have yet seen or could ever imagine.
“Were you there when they crucified my Lord?” the Negro Spiritual hymn asks again and again. Michelangelo, Rembrandt, J.S. Bach and countless other artists have been there. We must go there also and face the suffering Christ.

As people learn to read the Bible meditatively, they will discover that not all scenes of the movie follow exactly any reading of the Gospel and that in spite of the historical accuracy of the whole movie many details are not literally registered in the Gospels. They will then realize that they have seen first hand the fruits of the lost art of Christian meditation: the fruit of what happens when the mind engages the story reading with full devotional attention, and allows the imagination to recreate the story with its many details and shadows, recreating a multidimensional drama including things that may have been there, although they were not recorded, allowing the depth of the real human and divine drama to touch our souls; in a word, allowing us to be there.

I do not know how people will react in the long run. But I hope that this Holy Week we will receive an overflow of visitors to our services; people aching to see, hear, and participate more of the context and details of this glorious story. That certainly is my prayer, and that every Christian would learn to regard the profound mystery that lies at the heart of our Christian faith and life.
That is why I believe we ought to thank Gibson, in helping our post-Christian generation to experience first hand some of the fruit of the lost art of Christian meditation, that it may have an opportunity to appreciate what it is that upon which it is turning its back, and how ultimately few and evil are the alternatives.

A Word of Caution

Like the meditations that we ought to do when we close our door to the outside world to be alone with the Lord, this movie is best seen first outside the limits of group pressure. It is too much of a personally moving story, and it would be better, the first time, to go with an audience about whose reactions you will not have to worry.

Only children mature enough to have meditatively read the story of the gospels and who have seen in the eye of their minds the reality of the passion should be allowed to see this movie. If your children have not yet cried while attentively reading the passion story, wait until they do. It would be an offense against them to do it other wise.

—Rev. Benjamin Bernier
Rector of Providence Reformed Episcopal Church in Corpus Christi, Texas, the author is currently researching and writing his doctoral dissertation on the centrality of religious thought in Charlotte Mason’s educational philosophy. http://www.providencerec.org/

March 2004