I had already been teaching for several years when I was suddenly called to enter the field of Christian education. In Michigan I had taught in the towns of Coldwater and Quincy; then, after moving to Massachusetts, in the Brockton and Boston public school systems. But it was shortly after I came to know Jesus Christ as my Savior and Lord in 1982 that I heard an announcer on Boston’s Christian radio station WEZE advertize an opening at Brockton Christian School. At the same moment, unexplainably, I knew that I was the one who would be hired to fill that opening. The Lord had spoken in my heart with his "still small voice" and called me.

But that didn’t mean that I would find it easy to secure the job. I was behind the wheel of our car when I heard the radio announcement, so I wasn’t able to write down the phone number or address, both of which went right out of my head. In fact, not even remembering the name of the school, I drove first to another institution at the north end of town. Yes, they were a Christian school, but, No, they had not run a radio ad, and, No, they had no openings for teachers. Finally, I located Brockton Christian School at the city’s south end. A number of others had already applied for the position, I was told by Dr. Ballweg, the administrator. He handed me an application form.

More roadblocks! The form asked for previous employers and professional references, which were no problem, but it also had blanks for personal references—but my husband and I had just left the Jehovah’s Witness organization to accept Christ, and so were being shunned as "wicked apostates" by all our life-long J.W. friends. We had only recently begun attending a Baptist church, but new acquaintances there would have to admit they had known me for no more than a few months. I filled in the blanks on the application with the names of our family physician, an orthodox Jew, and our landlady, a Lithuanian Catholic. All the facts seemed to be telling me No, you will not get this teaching job! while the Lord kept telling me Yes, you will!

At the end of the form was another obstacle: each applicant was expected to sign on the dotted line to signify agreement with the school’s Statement of Faith. I found nothing objectionable about the doctrines expressed therein—having had a true Christian conversion experience and thorough deprogramming upon leaving the Witnesses, my beliefs were orthodox—but my new taste of freedom in Christ made me reluctant to let anyone put words in my mouth. Conscientiously, I felt that I could not sign it. But, still, I knew that God wanted me to teach there.

When I brought back the otherwise completed form to Dr. Ballweg, I explained to him that I felt strongly like the early Baptists who objected to formal creeds. Would he allow me to write out my beliefs in my own words, and to sign that in lieu of the school’s statement? Expecting to be turned away, I was surprised when he told me his sentiments matched mine exactly. He would be glad to receive my own write-up on my beliefs—but final acceptance would be up to the school board.

Moveover, although this was a private Christian school, its policy required that all teachers be state-certified. While I could produce my Teaching Certificate from the State of Michigan, and ratification in Massachusetts was supposed to be automatic under a reciprocal agreement between the states, any hope of my actually receiving a Massachusetts certificate was months or years away as reels of red tape cranked slowly through the crusty mechanism of Boston’s bureaucracy.

How could I possibly expect to be selected for this teaching position? Professionally I was well-qualified as a teacher. But among all the applicants I was no doubt the only one without a Massachusetts certificate, the only one lacking references in the Christian community, and the only one who refused to sign the school’s Statement of Faith.

Still, the Lord’s word to me proved true, and, despite the obstacles and roadblocks, I was selected to fill the fifth grade teaching post

Since then I have added to my public school background more than ten years of experience teaching Christian school under three different administrators. It is my hope that the insights and observations I share here will prove helpful to others who are involved in Christian education as teachers, as parents, and as administrators—as well as encouraging other readers to become involved in this aspect of the Lord’s work.

When my husband attended public elementary school in Boston during the 1950’s all the children were expected to attend a Catholic, Protestant, or Jewish religious education class once or twice a week. Today religion is excluded from the public school system, and that is one reason for the existence of Christian schools. But some private schools that bear the name Christian are really no different from the old public school my husband attended forty years ago. They feature an hour or two of religion tacked onto a standard secular curriculum. Besides weekly chapel services and Bible workbook periods there is little or nothing to characterize the course of study as Christian.

According to the strict definition of the term a Christian school is one that is operated by Christians—either affiliated with a church or administered by an independent school board made up of believers. But that definition covers only a small part of the institution: its administration. Much more is involved for a school to be truly Christian throughout. If it is not to be Christian in name only—like Harvard University which was originally established to train ministers—something must be said also about its curriculum, its teaching staff, and its student body.

Does this mean then that the school must employ only Christian teachers, use only Christian textbooks printed by Christian publishing companies, enroll only Christian children from Christian families, provide Christian school busses driven by Christian drivers, and furnish Christian writing paper, Christian pencils, and even hire the services of Christian disposal contractors to remove the sanctified contents of Christian wastebaskets? Obviously, the concept can be stretched too far. But where should the lines be drawn to make such a school truly live up to its noble name?

The board determining policies and overseeing the administration must, of course, be composed of mature Christians. Otherwise another master plan will be followed, and truth-in-advertising demands an another name. The administrator, headmaster, or principal must likewise be a believer in order to wholeheartedly uphold and execute the policies determined by the board.

But what about the teachers? Clearly only a believer in the Bible will do justice to biblical subject matter. But what about English, science, social studies, and reading? All of those subjects require Christian teachers. Why? Science comes to mind most readily as a subject that can be presented in a Christian or an anti-Christian manner. Not only is the creation-versus-evolution controversy at issue, but also the opportunity the science instructor has to stir up appreciation for the divine design manifest throughout the physical universe. Even a scientific concept as mechanical as Newton’s Laws of Motion takes on new meaning for the student who is introduced to Isaac Newton as the mere discoverer of these laws which were put in place by a far grander Legislator.

Social studies definitely deserves a Christian teacher because the study of dates and places should not be limited to kings and explorers without mentioning martyrs and reformers. Corinth and Athens were not merely centers of Greek culture but also significant stops on Paul’s missionary travels. Spanish conquistadors might as well be riding three-legged horses if the class discussion of their pursuit of power, land, and gold omits their goal of converting the Indians to Catholicism. And American history lacks much of its lustre without full consideration of the role religion played in colonization, in framing the Constitution, in freeing the slaves, and in the work ethic and moral values that charted this country’s course.

Similarly, English and reading involve more than technical rules of grammar. The stories read and the sentences used to illustrate grammatical rules are always meaningful stories and sentences that convey messages beyond mere linguistic mechanics. These stories and sentences invariably have a moral impact and a religious impact on children at the same time that they are learning to read and write. And only a Christian teacher will ensure that these lessons conveyed incidental to reading and writing are consistent with the faith.

But could there possibly be a problem with hiring a non-believer to teach arithmetic, algebra, or geometry? Strange as it may seem, these disciplines so far from the religious realm require a Christian teacher even more so than areas of study where the religious impact is obvious. Only an instructor with considerable depth of biblical knowledge will know how to weave a Christian thread through such left-brain lessons, as suggested in this book’s chapter on "Scripture Integration."

Moreover, the need for teachers to be genuine Christians themselves is dictated by far more than just the need to biblically integrate the subjects taught as part of the curriculum. Teachers do much more than scoop up knowledge from books and stuff it into young minds. They also influence children in many other ways: as role models, as discipliners, as referees and judges for interpersonal disputes, and as counselors and confidants for kids with problems. In each of these capacities a man or woman who walks with God will do differently than one who is merely a professional educator, and youngsters’ lives will be shaped accordingly.

Teachers’ aides, cafeteria workers, and even janitors and groundskeepers "teach" youngsters by example and by interacting with them. What a shame, then, if a boy takes home as his most memorable words of the day not some scripture quotation but the obscenities he overheard the custodian muttering under his breath! The support staff at many Christian schools consists largely of volunteer parents and church members, but when workers are hired to perform non-teaching functions these, too, ought to be solid Christian people.

What, though, about the students themselves? Considering the power of peer influence, should only Christian kids be admitted? Or should a Christian school operate as an outreach to the community, reaching non-believers through their children? Opinions vary, but several factors bear on the outcome in either case.

First of all, it is an understatement to say that there are few if any baptized, fully-discipled believers of kindergarten age. So, it is obvious that the standard applied to the faculty and staff can not be applied in the same manner to the student body. Even youngsters from Christian homes have yet to internalize many of the principles preached by their parents, and the best that can be hoped is that they will make a commitment to Christ at some time during their school years, and that this commitment will by a heart-felt personal decision rather than simply outward compliance to please mommy and daddy. So, even those we would designate as "Christian" children are mere toddlers spiritually in their walk with the Lord, if they have in fact begun that walk yet at all.

But such children are being raised by believing parents who hopefully teach and model for them biblical morality and uphold God’s standards in the home. A real contrast can be seen when a school also admits children of non-believing families. These youngsters often stand out in terms of their vocabulary, which may include choice four-letter words learned at an early age from their parents. They may also have different views of lying, stealing, and rebelling against authority, again reflecting the attitudes of parents not guided by God’s Word. And their attitude toward or even participation in sexual activity may not meet Christian standards.

True, some neighborhood youngsters will learn to conform their speech and actions to the school’s requirements—at least during their time on campus. But others will corrupt Christian youngsters around them into imitating their language, their behavior, and their way of thinking. To some extent this will depend on the mix of kids produced by admissions policies. One or two worldly children surrounded by dozens of Christians will be under a great deal of pressure to conform to righteous ways. But in larger numbers they will draw support from each other and will be able to maintain an opposing subculture among themselves while offering an alternative lifestyle to Christian kids. If the mix of students approaches or exceeds 50/50 the Christian youngsters will find themselves subjected to the same pressures prevailing in the outside world and will lose the advantage of being educated in a Christian environment.

Optimists sometimes advocate operating a Christian school as a neighborhood outreach in the hope that Christianity will prove contagious and will rub off onto the unbelieving children and their parents. But they forget that it is disease which is contagious, not good health. Moreover their optimistic expectation is not what the Bible says will happen. It predicts the opposite result. Scripture warns that "Bad company corrupts good character" (1 Cor. 15:33 NIV), and it prefaces that warning with the words, "Do not be misled," as if anticipating that some would advocate the notion that the good would rub off onto the bad rather than the bad rub off onto the good. The principle Paul enunciates here is the same thought stated earlier in Proverbs: "He that walketh with wise men shall be wise: but a companion of fools shall be destroyed." (Prov. 13:20) To assert that unbelieving kids will learn righteous ways from Christian kids rather than Christian kids learn corruption from unbelieving kids is to deny Scripture. The Bible makes it plain that bad company corrupts good character rather than the other way around.

Moreover, the notion that neighborhood youngsters sent to the school will carry Christianity home to their parents is similarly fallacious. Although there are always exceptions, what usually happens is that the parental practice and belief system prevailing in the home outweighs the influence of the school, and the child learns to walk in his parents’ footsteps rather than those of his school teacher. When non-religious parents send their children to a Christian school the results tend to be the same as when they drop kids off at church and pick them up after the service, but never attend themselves, or when they gesture with a cigarette in their hands while telling the kids not to smoke, or when parents in any circumstance tell their children to "do as I say, not as I do." In the child’s eyes his parents’ actions speak louder than their words, and their practices prevail over their preaching as the pattern for the child to follow.

So, trying to evangelize a neighborhood through a Christian school works about as well as any other example of sending a boy to do a man’s job. Rather than send their kids to talk to the neighbors’ kids, adult Christians need to go out themselves and talk to their neighbors about the Gospel. Then, if some of those neighbors listen and accept Christ’s call to become disciples, their children might be benefitted by a Christian school. But to direct evangelization efforts at the children first by enrolling them en mass in Christian schools is a case of putting the cart before the horse—with potentially damaging consequences. It fails to help those children or their parents, but instead places Christian kids in jeopardy and endangers the Christian caracter of the school as a whole.

Some administrations have attempted to ensure the religious content of their curriculum through the use of textbooks written and published especially for Christian schools. Many schools use such textbooks exclusively, for all subjects. This is commendable if the quality of instructional material is at least on a par with that which is available from secular sources. Unfortunately, however, much of what I have seen in this area is sadly deficient.

Such textbooks may be "Christian," but if they fail to capture the interest of students and fail to convey the subject matter clearly, their use becomes counterproductive. My own experience is that a teacher can more successfully supplement a good secular textbook with her own Christian input in class discussion than try to correct the educational deficiencies of an amateurish Christian textbook. Administrators making purchasing decisions can help improve the overall quality of the Christian textbook market by buying only those specific products that measure up to secular academic standards, rather than bring in a publisher’s complete line which may include a mixed bag of books, some excellent and some inferior. Such selective buying should eventually raise the quality of our own textbooks by forcing them to compete directly with secular books. On the other hand, buying inferior books just because they are "Christian" has the same weakening effect as when a businessman hires incompetent friends rather than qualified workers who can get the job done right.

All of these factors taken together, I hesitate to apply the name Christian to a school unless that name also describes its faculty, its support staff, the vast majority of its students and their families, its reading classes, its history and geography lessons, its science courses, gymnasium activities, and even its mathematics instruction. Christianity must pervade the entire staff, student body, and curriculum in order for an educational institution to merit the name "Christian School."

In some areas of the world school teachers are highly regarded as professionals alongside doctors, lawyers, and clergymen. Why is it then that a church which pays its pastor a handsome sum will expect teachers in its Christian school to work for canned vegetables, second-hand clothing, and a pat on the back? Believe it or not, that is literally the case in some Christian schools, although most pay teachers a salary and some even pay as much or more than the local public school system.

The Christian school teacher’s status varies widely from one institution to another, not just in the matter of compensation, but also in a much broader sense. In one school the pastor, the administrator, and the teachers are all regarded as equals, cooperating freely and openly, each one contributing his or her unique talents to the Lord’s work and to the common good. Yet in another school in the same town the pastor and the administrator are more-or-less equals, but the teachers are treated as the hired help: excluded from policy discussions, denied access to information, without input on future planning, and ordered about like peons on a plantation. Between these extremes there lies a whole spectrum of variations.

Just exactly where a particular educational establishment lands on the spectrum depends not only on the personalities of the individuals involved but also on a number of other factors, some of which are quite complex: How does the church view pastoral authority? What role does it assign to women—equality with men, subservience, or something in between? How is church government exercised? How wealthy or poor is the church? How involved are the parents? Is the school operated by a single church and attended primarily by its own children, operated by a single church but open to the public, or operated as an independent ministry run by a school board whose members come from many different churches? Are the teachers state-certified professionals with experience in the public system, or parents and other volunteers undergoing on-the-job training and learning by trial and error how to run a classroom? These and many other factors combine to determine the character of a school and how its personnel interact.

In one case concerned parents in an inner city church will band together, with the help of their pastor, to remove their children from a "blackboard jungle" situation in the public schools. Several parents and other sympathetic adults in the church will volunteer their time and energies to improvise an academically passable school with a Christian learning environment. Such schools are typically characterized by team spirit and mutual cooperation. The amateur teachers are happy to work for a pat on the back and perhaps a few donations; the youngsters receive an education that may or may not be on a par with public schools academically, but they learn to work hard and to behave as ladies and gentlemen without the distractions of drugs and violence common to inner city schools.

In another case an institution that may originally have been founded for religious reasons now takes on the character of an exclusive private school. Wealthy church members may send their children to this school for a mixture of motives relating not only to the religious aspect, but also to the desire for a superior private education, the prestige factor, and perhaps even the desire for separation from racial minorities excluded by the tuition fees and/or by discriminatory admissions policies. While such a school will generally hire only qualified teachers, and can be expected to pay them well, they should not be surprised if they are treated with the polite condescension customarily afforded to a governess or an au pair.

Ideally, of course, a Christian school is set up for the unadulterated purpose of providing a quality Christian education. Its doors are open to all. It attracts responsible parents who have already taught their children to be well behaved attentive learners. It pays a living wage to capable, dedicated teachers who view their job as a ministry and give their all to it as unto the Lord. And it is coordinated by a wise and humble administrator who follows biblical laws and principles, especially the supreme law of love. Such a school no doubt makes God’s heart glad and brings joy to all who participate in it, whether as students, as teachers, or as parents.

But the real-world Christian school can be found anywhere between this ideal and the assorted extremes described above. Moreover, the individuals connected with any given school will themselves vary in their attitude, some tending to pull the school in one direction, and some in another. Your own influence can help reshape it too, but one person can do only so much to influence the character of an institution made up of many. So, whether making educational choices for your children or employment choices for yourself, you will be most likely to obtain what you want if you evaluate the situation realistically, recognizing the true character of the schools you are looking at.

People tend to be intimidated by school teachers. I discovered that fact when I was still an eligible young maiden, who happened also to be a new teacher. Eligible young men driven by their primitive wife-hunting drive would walk up to me boldly and introduce themselves, obviously with the intention of asking me out. But, upon learning my profession, they would suddenly lose their manhood and revert to being little boys. It was as if they had mistaken their fifth grade teacher for a fair damsel and, discovering their error, had now become profusely apologetic, weak-kneed, and totally unnerved. (But don’t despair, you girls who are having second thoughts about your career after reading this; I have now been married more than twenty years to a Harvard man who can’t understand how I could possibly have intimidated other guys.) Moreover, as if being a school teacher were not enough, when I have become known to people as a Christian school teacher they have tended to regard me as if I were a nun working outside my convent.

It would be one thing if this uneasiness around teachers were confined to eligible young men. But it is not. I have learned over the years how other adults, both men and women, react when they come into the presence of a teacher: They immediately brush off their clothing, stand erect to improve their posture, and begin speaking in a stilted, formal manner in the hope of avoiding grammatical errors. The most obvious aspect of this is that they start using "I" instead of "me" throughout the remainder of their conversation, even where it is not appropriate. And some almost panic, as if they suddenly remember a long-overdue homework assignment and fear that I will demand they turn it in.

Many, of course, do not go to these extremes. But people in general do tend to conceive of teachers in a stereotypical manner as prim and proper ladies wearing horn-rimmed glasses and their hair in a bun, unable to smile but rather prone to frown. In fact, I recall a waiter at a nice restaurant who greeted four of us at our table with the words, "Good afternoon! You ladies must be school teachers." Asked how he knew, he replied, "I can always identify you school teachers by the frown lines between your eyebrows." I suspect however that it was neither frown lines nor ESP that revealed our occupation, but rather our conversation that he no doubt overheard as he approached the table. In any case his tip from us that day was small indeed. Still, though we all dismissed his remarks as rude and ignorant, each one of us returned home later and spent some serious confessional time in front of the bathroom mirror contemplating plastic surgery.

Probably the reason for everyone having this morbid view of teachers is that only a small percentage of the population know any personally on an intimately friendly social basis, while nearly one hundred percent of the population spent twelve years of their lives under our thumbs. And during those twelve years we never dared smile at them for fear they would erupt into an unruly mob hurling spittballs and catcalls. So, I suppose it is only natural for people to regard teachers with about as much affection as ex-convicts regard prison guards.

All of this notwithstanding, the grim-faced pedant everyone has come to know and hate really does have another side to her personality. But it is a side that reveals itself only to others of the same breed, and only in their secret inner sanctum, the Teachers’ Room.

Even when carrying an urgent message for a member of the staff, children are never allowed into the Teachers’ Room. Entry could prove fatal. When such a trespass has actually occurred on rare occasion in the past, and the youngster has managed to come out of it alive, the poor child, if not struck dumb and speechless, tends to tell unbelievable stories as if he had just returned from the land of Oz. He may recall hallucinations of teachers laughing and throwing darts at enlarged yearbook photos of certain kids, and he may insist that these hallucinations were real. If such incoherent babblings continue longer than half an hour, professional counselling may be advisable.

I still remember the face of a young new faculty member in a Christian elementary school who nearly lost her faith as a result of her first visit to the teacher’s lounge. Fourth grade was being taught by the wife of a career military man, and as the new staffer entered she was talking about giving her kids "a warning shot to the back of the head." Another teacher spoke of "strangling the little monsters" in her class, and the new girl started casting her eyes about suspiciously as if she feared she had somehow strayed into a Mafia den.

Teachers, of course, are sworn to secrecy about what is said and done behind the closed doors of the Teacher’s Room. Modeled after King Tut’s tomb, this chamber is built without windows—a form of construction normally reserved only for Masonic Temples and Jehovah’s Witness Kingdom Halls. It is soundproofed and equipped with a door that swings open to no more than a thirty degree angle—wide enough to allow the fattest one on the faculty a tight squeeze through. In fact, when the door is open a force field remains in place keeping outsiders out, and it is the process of passing through that force field that transforms cruel Miss Hyde, feared by students as Commandant of the Corridors, into jovial Dr. Jeckle when she enters among her peers.

Seriously, though, a transformation does take place upon entering the Teacher’s Room. It is probably triggered by the sudden release of tensions built up over the course of the day. The only illustration I can think of to make it understandable to non-educators is to remind them of the TV program M*A*S*H that revealed how the serious demeanor of doctors and surgeons can deteriorate into sheer comedy when they unwind among themselves.

In case anyone thinks the comparison is overdone, let me relate one real-life incident to prove my point. It was the occasion of fellow-staffer Mary’s 40th birthday. Tom, the only male on the elementary school staff, slipped into the room before lunch to decorate it with black balloons and to un-box the black-frosted cake he had ordered. He also slipped into a black tux and greeted each of us at the door with all the sad solemnity of a funeral director: "I’m glad you could come. Are you related to the deceased?" When Mary came in and took her seat, four of us marched in slowly carrying the cake like pallbearers. Then Tom delivered a funeral address in which he assured that life does not begin at forty—it ends there. The mock funeral had us all in stitches, and Tom kept us that way by keeping a straight face throughout, never once stepping out of character. When it was over we all returned to our classrooms as if nothing had happened. The kids, of course, were none the wiser. In fact, they never would have believed it if someone had told them. Outside of the faculty, only the janitor had reason to suspect anything unusual had transpired as he puzzled over a wastebasket full of black crepe paper and plastic forks stuck together with gobs of black frosting.

Perhaps there are other Christian schools where the goings-on in the teachers’ room are confined to more conventional behavior. But those of us who chose to unwind as related above found that we were thus enabled to return to the classroom in a saner frame of mind, refreshed emotionally and reminded once again that we serve "the happy God." (1 Tim. 1:11, Rotherham’s Emphasized New Testament)

If you have ever stirred a spoonful of salt into your coffee, thinking it was sugar, then you know how bitter disappointment can result from a misconception. Likewise, failure to see what a Christian school really is—what it can and cannot be expected to do—can leave a bad taste in one’s mouth. This is equally true for parents, teachers, and administrators.

Sometimes a new teacher or a young administrator will start work with good intentions but with extremely unrealistic expectations. The individual may be laboring under the delusion that has been labeled by some "the messiah complex." We should all look to Christ as our example of course, and should seek to imitate Him as best we can in all our conduct, but we acquire the messiah complex when we mistakenly think that we can single-handedly save the world. Such overconfidence can prove disastrous when it prompts an inexperienced administrator to admit dozens of troubled and troublesome youngsters to the student body in the hope of reforming them. Contrary to his mistaken expectations the problem children create such a disturbance that the learning environment is disrupted, parents of normal children respond by taking their kids out of the school, more problem children must be admitted to keep enrollment up, and the whole character of the school changes for the worse. Instead of the school reforming the delinquents, the delinquents reshape the school.

Similarly an overconfident teacher might discover that a particular student in her new class has severe learning disabilities. In order to receive an education the child should be placed in a special class of four or five pupils where a teacher trained to help the learning disabled can provide one-on-one assistance using a curriculum tailored to the little one’s specific needs. But, instead, the teacher with the messiah complex decides to keep the child in her classroom. She thinks she can do the job. She puts forth lots of effort, spending a good part of each day at that youngster’s desk explaining the lessons and taking the child step-by-step through each one. But the end result is that the learning disabled child is deprived of the sort of help really needed to accomplish anything, while the rest of the class falls behind as well.

Parents, too, may enroll their child while laboring under misconceptions as to what a Christian school can and cannot do. Some take a seventh or eighth grader that they have failed to control or discipline at home and, in effect, hand him over to the school saying, "Here, fix my kid!" But how realistic is it to ask this of a teacher who receives a child half-grown, who sees him less than six hours a day, who is responsible to communicate several academic subjects, and who is also instructing twenty other children? How can this teacher do in a few months what the parents have failed to do in twelve or fourteen years?—especially when the task now involves straightening a half-grown tree rather than a flexible little shoot!

The parent with the "Here, fix my kid!" syndrome, though perhaps professing to be a Christian, fails to realize that the Bible places on the parents the primary responsibility for raising children. "Fathers" are the ones who are told to "bring them up in the training and instruction of the Lord." (Eph. 6:4) The fact that a child has become a problem raises the possibility that the parent has not taken that responsibility to heart until now. And such a parent’s desire to pass the problem on to the school demonstrates that he is still trying to shirk his obligation. Parents and teacher working together, as a team, can accomplish a lot in the life of a child. But when parents say, in effect, "Here, he’s your problem now—I’m paying you to fix my kid," they themselves are making the kid unfixable.

Alert parents will spot a teacher or an administrator with the messiah complex and will step in before harm is done to their child. In the same way, alert teachers and administrators will spot a parent with the "Here, fix my kid!" syndrome before such a problem is dumped on their school. However, if both parties are asleep at the switch, at school and at home, the consequences can be overwhelming. I recall a situation in which an adolescent expelled from public school as a troublemaker—and it takes a lot to be expelled from public school these days—was then enrolled in a tough military school, only to be subsequently expelled from that institution also. Next, the parents took him to Christian school to get him "fixed." In spite of his record, he was admitted. Did the "messiah" actually "fix the kid"? Hardly! In a matter of months the boy had thrown an entire class into confusion, had beat up a classmate on the playground, and had brought a weapon to school.

In combination, the messiah complex and the "fix my kid" syndrome can prove deadly. The only cure is for all parties involved, whether parents, teachers or administrators, to face up to their responsibilities and their limitations. A Christian school can accomplish a lot of good in the lives of a lot of kids, but the school can not assume the role of the Messiah to save the world, nor can it properly assume the role of parents in raising and disciplining their children. What it can do is to complement and strengthen the efforts of conscientious parents by providing their well behaved children a sound education in a Christian learning environment.

"Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares," Scripture informs us. (Hebrews 13:1) Of course, I knew from this verse that people who practice hospitality may receive this blessing, but imagine how surprised I was to learn that I was teaching angels unawares in my fifth grade class. There were angels in the very first class I taught at the beginning of my career, and there have been some in every class since then. And in each case I found myself teaching these angels unawares until their parents identified them to me as angels.

Take Angelo Ricardelli for example. Whenever he thought I was not looking he found something else to do instead of his assigned work. He hated reading, writing, and arithmetic but loved running, wrestling, and his whittling stick. I had to sit on him—figuratively, of course—in order to teach the rest of the class. So, when report cards were issued he received a "D-minus" conduct grade. His mother sent back the card the next day with a note attached telling me that I deserved a "D-minus" grade as a teacher. "How could you find fault with my little angel?" she asked. "He is a perfectly lovely little boy!"

Angelo Ricardelli is typical of the little "angels" I have been privileged to teach unawares over the years. And his mother’s note is typical of the parental epistles proclaiming their angelic nature. Such notes are necessary, since the angelic nature of these children can be perceived only by special revelation. In fact, by mere objective observation using the five senses alone, without parental revelation, a teacher might even reach a radically opposite conclusion, namely that the little people in question were actually goblins, gremlins, or mischievous demonic spirits. Angels? Never! But perhaps fallen angels better known as little devils.

Seriously, though, whenever I receive such a parental revelation the child immediately improves in my estimation. I realize at once that the problem lies, not with the child, but with the parent.

The parent is the one who actually deserves the "D-minus" conduct grade, or better yet an "F" for failing to parent properly. The child is not at fault because any youngster, even the most obediently inclined, will turn into a monster when placed on a pedestal. The Bible warns that, "If a man’s slave is pampered from childhood, he will prove ungrateful in the end," or, "If you give your servant everything he wants from childgood on, some day you will not be able to control him." (Proverbs 29:21 Jerusalem Bible and Today’s English Version marginal reading) This is true not just of servants but also of our own children. Elevating them as angels when they are young truly turns them into devils as they grow up. And it is the parent’s fault, not the child’s. Children do not know anything until they are taught, but parents have been around for a number of years and therefore should know better.

So, instead of trying to discover what is wrong with the child and to correct it, the discerning teacher will now concentrate on the parent. It may simply be that the parent does not understand the true nature of children, which is far from angelic. They come into this world kicking and screaming whenever things fail to go their way, and they find great delight in tipping over piles of blocks or in breaking things. The parent has the job of civilizing the savage little beast. This is the biblical view, since the Proverbs tell us, "Foolishness is bound in the heart of a child; but the rod of correction shall drive it far from him." (22:15) Some parents, upon learning this fact from their child’s teacher, will begin to improve their grade in the area of parental discipline.

If the "little angel" has been canonized to sainthood through ignorance on the part of mother and father, there is hope. The parents may learn to fulfill their roles more adequately, with the child responding automatically to proper parental discipline. However, if the problem has been something other than ignorance, the outlook may not be as good. Additional reasons why some parents see their children as little angels include superiority/inferiority complexes, delusions of grandeur, other personality disorders, and sheer laziness—all of which are difficult to deal with unless the parent recognizes the problem and is willing to undergo therapy.

But, without a change in mom and dad’s attitude there is only so much that a teacher can do to stop "my little angel" from acting like a devil. Classroom discipline directed at the child may keep a lid on the situation, but it amounts to treating the symptoms rather than the disease.

Remember the old penny arcades where, among the valuable prizes you could win for properly manipulating a mechanical arm, there was an assortment of licenses: a kissing license, a cursing license, and various other quasi-official-looking documents granting the bearer the right to misbehave? Well, some schools and even some Christian schools today issue such licenses to their pupils, and the kids are not even required to win a game to acquire them. In fact, the youngster does not even need to possess a copy of the license; a blanket license covers everyone in the school.

Seriously, there are discipline codes in force at many educational institutions today that include such a license to misbehave as part of the code. For example, there is the "assertive discipline" or "three check system" introduced by a new principal at a Christian school where I taught. This is how it works:

The first time a student misbehaves the teacher writes the youngster’s name on the blackboard. If he steps out of line again, a check mark is added next to his name. Further misconduct results in a second check. A fourth violation produces a third check and an after-school detention. At the end of each day the slate is literally wiped clean, and the whole routine starts over again: name on the board, one check, two checks, three checks = detention.

I am surprised that the entire school did not break out in riotous applause when this policy was announced. They may have kept quiet about it, but the kids immediately understood that they were receiving a license misbehave. In fact, it was a license to misbehave three times a day: only the fourth violation would result in any real punishment.

What child cares whether his name goes on the board? Why, kids even taunt each other with the chant, "Sticks and stones will break my bones, but names will never hurt me!" The only reason they fail to break out in this chant when the teacher puts their name on the board is to avoid tipping off the teacher that the punishment is painless. Did your parents ever spank you with your snowsuit on? Every kid knows a well-padded snowsuit offers total protection against spankings. But a smart toddler knows enough to cry a bit anyway. The child who smiles and says, "Ha! Ha! Daddy, that didn’t hurt!" quickly learns never to give away a secret like that again, and by the time they are in school all kids know enough to keep quiet when a punishment doesn’t hurt. How strange, though, that some kids who grow up to become parents, teachers, and administrators forget this fact of life when they turn twenty-one. It must be that senility starts earlier than we thought.

So, how does the three-check system work in practice? Try this:

When class starts in the morning and Miss Newteach is writing the date on the board with her back to the class, little Terry Trouble takes aim with a drinking straw and shoots a juicy spitball at Jerry Meander, hitting him in the eye. The "Whhitt!" sound alerts Miss Newteach, and she turns in time to catch Terry Trouble shoving the straw into his desk. Terry’s name goes onto the board. He shrugs.

More offended than hurt, but eager for vengeance, Jerry Meander breaks his pencil and gets permission to go sharpen it. On the way he meanders by Terry’s desk and elbows him in the ear. The victim’s cry of pain draws Miss Newteach’s attention in time to catch Jerry retracting his elbow, so Jerry’s name goes onto the board too.

After nursing his sore ear for an hour, Terry Trouble decides it is time for revenge. But just as he launches a well-aimed paper clip in Jerry’s direction, Betty Block gets out of her seat and receives the projectile in the corner of her left eye. Betty goes to the office for the secretary to call her mother to take her to the doctor, and Terry Trouble gets a check beside his name on the board. But his only concern is that he missed his target. Reaching in his pocket, he finds another paper clip. "Yes!" he congratulates himself silently, "Another paper clip, and another check to go before I’m in any danger of a detention!" Miss Newteach catches his eye as he is preparing to launch the missile, but he sneers at her and launches it anyway. "On target! Yes!" he rejoices, ignoring the second check placed next to his name. Jimmy Meander wanders one-eyed down the hall toward the office, while Terry Trouble slinks back in his chair. He will be a good little boy the rest of the day but will come to school tomorrow with a new cache of weapons—and a clean slate.

In all fairness it should be admitted that the three-check system does serve as a restraint for some children: those with a very strong sense of right and wrong, those whose parents will punish them at home if they learn of any misconduct, and the whimps. These will all avoid getting their name on the board. And even mischievous little gremlins like Terry Trouble are restrained to a degree, at least to the extent that they budget their licensed misbehaviors to get the best use out of them. But the typical classroom has two or three Terry Troubles, perhaps as many as five or six. Multiply each one’s free shots by the number of players, and you come up with anywhere from six to eighteen freebies per day—enough disturbances to disrupt the class and materially interfere with the learning process. Yet these could almost be called planned disturbances, guaranteed to happen because they are built a system that gives children a license to misbehave.

Actually, school administrators and teachers can decide how many incidents of misbehavior they want to have per classroom per day. If they allow each child five checks before a detention there will be more, and if they cut back to two checks there will be fewer incidents. How much deep thinking does it take to conclude that elimination of the checks altogether will eliminate altogether the licensed misbehavior such a system generates?

Why not simply remove the blackboard buffer between behavior and consequences. Instead of the child’s name going on the board and the teacher writing a series of checks, turn the tables: breaking a rule should mean that the child himself goes to the board—immediately—and the child picks up the chalk and starts writing. "I will not . . . " (Once!) "I will not . . . " (Twice!) "I will not . . ." (Three times!)—and so on, until the lesson is learned. Or, at the teacher’s option, the child goes to the blackboard after school and uses what would normally be his play time to fill the blackboard with expressions of repentance.

Children will do what they can get away with. If they have a license to misbehave, they will misbehave. I can understand why a penny arcade would dispense such licenses—to make a profit. But I still to this day can not understand why a school would make a rule that lets kids break the rules.

When youngsters are out of control they can not learn anything and that, in an educational institution, is tragic. In the small-town school system in rural Michigan where I began my career the expression teachers used to describe the worst-case scenario in the classroom was that the kids were "swinging from the rafters." This hyperbole was so extreme—exaggerated way beyond any possible reality—that it added a touch of comedy to an otherwise tragic situation. But when I moved to Boston and entered that city’s public school system it was as if I had stepped onto the Hollywood set for "Little Rascals." The comic hyperbole was actually transpiring in real life as flesh-and-blood kids literally swung from the rafters. My new classroom was equipped with a metal bar across the top of the doorway, such as young men install in their bedroom to do chin-ups on, and as the class came into the room on my first day on the job each youngster jumped up, grabbed the bar, and literally swung into the room.

I couldn’t believe my eyes: They were literally swinging from the rafters!

"Miss Q______ , our teacher, lets us do that!" the pupils volunteered, without my even asking. They must have noticed my wide open eyes and hanging jaw. "And when Miss L_______ was our teacher before that, she let us do it, too."

No wonder I had been told this class would be a challenge!

"Well, I’m your teacher now, and the next one who swings into the room will ***********"

It took me less than a week to restore order in this class that had been allowed to run wild for months. On the first day one little girl spoke up and said, "We made our last teacher cry. Are you going to cry, Miss Haskins?"

"No," I replied. "You children are the ones who are going to cry."

And several of them did cry before that week was over.

"Yackity yak! Don’t talk back!" Those words are sung today but seldom said in earnest. And if kids talk back to their mother in the supermarket, they will talk back to their teacher in school. The worst problem with the public school system today is probably not the lack of prayer, not the humanistic textbooks, not the amoral sex education, but the lack of discipline. I say this because without discipline there is no respect, and without respect prayer is empty, humanism is automatic, and morals are unenforceable.

You have discovered that in order to teach children you must first control them. But how? If the right moves don’t come naturally to you, being told to take control can be just as frustrating as being told to wiggle your ears. Happily, though, just as you learned the subjects you have mastered, and just as you learned teaching techniques, you can also learn how to take control of the class.

The basic principles are found in a very old book titled The Prince by Niccol˜ Machiavelli of Florence, Italy. If you have heard of this book before, then you are probably wondering how it could possibly help you in classroom teaching, since it was written approximately five hundred years ago, around the time another Italian named Christopher Columbus discovered America, obviously long before public or even private schools were established on this continent. True, Machiavelli was born in the year 1469, and his book was published five years after his death in 1532. That was a long time ago, but human nature has not changed since then. So, what Machiavelli wrote still applies.

Of course, the title of his book is actually The Prince, not The Teacher as in our chapter title. And its subject is statesmanship rather than classroom teaching. Why then does it prove useful to the teacher interested in learning how to control a class? Because, according to the cover of the 1952 Mentor Classics edition, it "reveals the techniques and strategy of gaining and keeping political control." Machiavelli’s original readers sought control over a small city-state, a principality, or perhaps even an empire. All that you seek is control over a classroom. There are far fewer people in a classroom, and they are all inexperienced children rather than worldly-wise adults, so your task should be easier, even if you pay attention to only half of what Machiavelli says.

Now, some teachers may be frightened at the thought of using Machiavellian techniques. In fact, some may be morally outraged at the very suggestion. After all, doesn’t his last name call to mind Mephistopheles, to whom Faust sold his soul? And isn’t his first name Niccol˜ the basis for the devil’s being nicknamed Old Nick? In fact, history reveals that the Roman Catholic Church put The Prince on its Index of Prohibited Books in 1559. And the Inquisition decreed the destruction of all Machiavelli’s writings.

The word Machiavellian does indeed carry negative connotations in our modern vocabulary. After the reiterative definition, "1. of, like, or befitting Machiavelli," and the negative meaning, "2. being or acting in accordance with Machiavelli’s political doctrines, which placed expediency above political morality, and contenanced the use of craft and deceit in order to maintain the authority and effect the purposes of the ruler," The American College Dictionary also defines Machiavellian this way: "3. characterized by subtle or unscrupulous cunning; wily; astute." And that is exactly what you must be to run today’s classroom full of street-smart kids!

Do you think you can afford to be less than Machiavellian in a game that pits you, alone, against a team of thirty or more determined players? Not if you want to win! And if the kids win, you might as well leave the game. It often boils down to a choice between being a Machiavellian teacher and being a former teacher.

So, don’t let names bother you. Of course, I never let the students call me anything to my face except "Mrs. Reed." (And they have to say it in the right tone of voice and with the right facial expression, too, if they know what’s good for them.) But I have it from several reliable sources that, behind my back, they refer to me as "Mean Reed." That may be kid-talk for "Machiavellian Reed," but so what, if it works? In the classroom, in the corridors, in the lunch room, and even in the recess yard no one dares step out of line when "Mean Reed" is around. The kids may think they are getting away with something by pinning that name on me, but they are actually helping me keep control by advertising my reputation. And, believe me, there are many other less flattering names that youngsters use for a teacher they regard as a push-over or a whimp.

While on the subject of macho and Machiavelli, it might be appropriate to insert here a brief word about gender difference as it affects taking control of the class. We women teachers, having grown up as girls, may not be fully aware of the brutal pecking order that often regulates boys’ lives. We are seldom within earshot when they run through their littany of who can "take" whom—a hierarchy established partly by pugilistic prowess and partly by formidable appearance or bluff. But, like it or not, we too are ranked by the boys as to whether we terrorize them or they terrorize us. And, while words may be sufficient to control the girls in your class, you may find it necessary to "knock a few heads," figuratively speaking of course, among the boys in order to let them know who’s the boss.

And that, in essence, is the message of Machiavelli: Pulverize your enemies—those who challenge your authority—so that no one will dare compete with you for power. With the others, be firm, but fair. Subjugate the students, but don’t oppress them. Never relax needed restrictions, because it is much harder to re-establish them again.

Although often attributed to Matthew Prior (1664-1721), the expression "the end justifies the means" must truly have been coined by Machiavelli who used it two hundred years before. I certainly don’t subscribe to that philosopy as a blanket approach to life, but there are a few instances where I have found that a desired end can be attained only by certain means, and in no other way. The remainer of this book outlines those techniques and methods that work and that actually give a teacher the control needed to instruct children.

You are the teacher, and you want to teach. With adults that’s easy. You come to the classroom to teach, and they come to learn. You simply put your teaching ability to work in sharing your knowledge of the subject with your students. But with children it’s different. Most don’t come to the classroom to learn. They come because they are forced into it. And that part isn’t your job. Their parents—and perhaps the truant officer—have made them come to class. But now your job is to make them learn. How do you do it?

My mother once told me that I had the potential to be a South American dictator. And that’s how I run my classroom. But I’m a benevolent dictator, and I introduce democracy to the extent that the children are ready for it. In fact, my fifth graders learn how to nominate candidates, how to run an election campaign, and how to elect their own class officers. (See chapter xx, "Mobilizing the Troops.") The classroom is a democracy within certain limits, but in the final analysis my word is law. The representative student government functions under my benevolent dictatorship. While the kids enjoy freedom of speech and freedom of action within certain well-defined limits, I am in total control. And they know it.

This sort of total control is really the only atmosphere conducive to learning for children. Left on their own, they will talk, play games, daydream, or do anything else that seems "fun." Mathematics isn’t fun, so they won’t do it. Social Studies isn’t fun, so they won’t study it. If they are to be educated, students must not be allowed to spend classroom time doing what they want; they must do only what the teacher wants.

In my case this comes naturally. In fact, I couldn’t live with it any other way. My mother wasn’t kidding when she said I would make a good South American dictator. But you may not be "blessed" with this natural knack for taking control. (My husband sometimes questions whether it is a blessing, outside the classroom.) Your personality may be of a different sort. Instead of being a born leader, you may feel more comfortable as a follower or, avoiding both extremes, as an observer. That’s fine. In fact, it’s a good thing that most people don’t see themselves as born leaders; otherwise this world would see a lot more conflict than it already does, with every other person pushing to take control.

But if you are teaching children, you have no choice: You must become a leader. If you don’t take control of the classroom, someone else will. And, no matter who else it turns out to be, the result will be disaster as far as your educational goals for the class are concerned. If the class clown takes control, he will keep the children laughing instead of learning. If the class bully takes control, he will have everyone quaking—especially you. And, even if no one individual student seizes power, the vacuum left by your failing to exercise control will lead to mob rule and chaos. So you, as the teacher, must take control.

Some parents and teachers have told me that they avoid using Scripture when giving discipline, so that their youngsters will not associate the Bible with a negative experience. And it certainly is a negative experience for a child to be whapped aside the head with a heavy Bible or to have an adult wave the Good Book in the air while screaming, "God will punish you! God will punish you!" In fact, those actions could be considered not only child abuse but also Bible abuse. It would be better not to use the Bible at all than to put it to such misuse.

But avoiding the proper use of Scripture in the administration of discipline ignores the inspired declaration that "All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness." (2 Tim. 3:16) If children are being rebuked, it is appropriate to use the Word of God; if they are being corrected, it is appropriate to use the Bible; and if they are being trained in righteousness, it is appropriate to share Scripture with them.

Some may try to limit the application of this thought at 2 Timothy 3:16 to teaching, rebuking, correcting and training adults. But such a limitation ignores the context. In the preceeding sentence Paul had just reminded Timothy "how from infancy you have known the holy Scriptures, which are able to make you wise for salvation through faith in Christ Jesus." So, it is appropriate to use the Bible when rebuking and correcting children from infancy onward.

Failure to do this most often results, not from philosophical opposition to using the Bible in such a way, but rather from lack of familiarity with its use in administering discipline, or lack of appreciation for its power and effectiveness in this context. To establish the latter before discussing the former, let me relate what happened with Henry.

Henry Rogers, a fifth grader, during his two years in our school had never admitted guilt, no matter how minor the violation and no matter who had witnessed his violation of a school rule. Finally one day, outside of my classroom, he ran afoul of the principal. Circumstantial evidence pointed almost conclusively to his guilt, but Henry denied it. "No, sir, Mr. Jenkins," he told the principal. "I didn’t do it." He returned to my classroom with a note from Mr. Jenkins in his hand and a look of triumph on his face. He had beaten the rap. But my concern was for Henry himself. If he was indeed guilty, success at denying and concealing his offense would only harden him in wrong conduct. The incident in question was relatively minor; it was not as if he would be literally getting away with murder. But the outcome, if let stand, would undo much that he had already been taught. So, I asked him to get his Bible from his desk and to step out in the corridor with me.

Henry looked puzzled when I began discussing with him what a mighty man King David was, instead of lecturing him on his alleged infraction of the rules. After reviewing stories he had heard over the years about how David slew a lion and a bear, toppled Goliath with a mere sling, and led the armies of Israel, Henry agreed with me that David was by no means a whimp. He was a real man’s man. But the fifth grader looked puzzled again when I drew his attention to the account of David and Bathsheba in Second Samuel and left him alone to read chapter eleven out in the hallway while I attended to the class. This was one of the "juicy" parts of Scripture that Sunday school teachers skipped over and that the boys whispered and giggled about. The account has everything a fifth grader could ask for: sex, violence, and trickery. "Why is Mrs. Reed having me read this?" he must have wondered.

After a few minutes I returned to him and asked a couple of review questions to verify that he had understood the account. Yes, he had, Henry assured me with a serious demeanor intended to confirm that he did indeed possess the maturity that I had credited him with in inviting him to read such an adult passage. Then I took turns with him in reading aloud Nathan’s rebuke in chapter twelve, verses 1 through 14. "What did David do in verse thirteen?" I asked. "He admitted that he had sinned," Henry answered thoughtfully. I pointed out that David showed he was a real man by admitting he did wrong, and, at that, I dropped the matter and sent the boy back to his seat. He said nothing more to me. But the next day Mr. Jenkins told me Henry approached him after school and made the confession that the principal had been unable to browbeat from him earlier. Indeed, "the word of God is living and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart." (Heb. 4:12)

Henry’s case demonstrates the power and effectiveness of Scripture in administering corrective discipline. It also shows that this can be accomplished through reading and reasoning, without raising voices or shaking fists. It is God who wags His finger in the child’s conscience and brings forth the desired result.

In this instance the story of David provided an example that the child saw as worthy of imitation. In other situations the Bible can be used to (1) establish the teacher’s authority to command obedience, (2) put discipline in context, (3) spell out what is acceptable and what is unacceptable conduct, and (4) provide motivation for right conduct that transcends classroom rewards and punishments.

This step is often neglected or overlooked because it is seen as "given," a fundamental assumption that the entire system of classroom education is based on. But, while that may be true in the mind of the teacher, it can not properly be assumed to be present in the mind of the student. His or her parents may have made disparaging remarks about the teacher or the school either to the child or in the child’s hearing, leading the youngster to expect parental backing in case of conflict. Or, the parents themselves may have failed to secure their offspring’s respect and obedience, leaving the little one with a contemptuous view of adults in general. Children from disadvantaged racial or ethnic minority families may have learned to view white authority figures as enemies to be defeated or circumvented. Even at an early age kids from Christian homes may lose touch with their parents, shedding parental values and adopting the value system of a youth subculture.

Aside from these complex social factors working against the teacher’s authority, there is also the simple fact that "Folly is bound up in the heart of a child." (Prov. 22:15) Children are not born with the right attitude; they must be taught respect and obedience.

In extreme cases where acts of defiance toward the teacher are supported by open applause from peers or parents, or where a child’s self-will has never been tamed, it may not be possible for certain children to be integrated into a Christian school without destroying the institution. But more often the influence is a subtle one, less disruptive and perhaps not even recognized by any of the parties involved. But it is nevertheless encumbent upon the teacher to establish his or her authority to command obedience.

The advantage of using Scripture to do this is that the teacher does not stand alone against the possible conflicting authority of peers, self, or others. And it is not a nebulous entity such as "the government" or "the society" that has appointed the teacher, but it is Almighty God who speaks through his written word and puts the child in the learner’s proper place.

Specific verses that can be employed to establish this are these:

How discipline is received depends somewhat on how it is perceived. Of course, consistent punishment acts as a deterrent to misconduct regardless of how it is perceived, as even dumb animals demonstrate when they learn to avoid behavior associated with electric shocks or blows from their master’s hand. Likewise, children quickly learn not to run in the hallway when the teacher is watching. To do otherwise brings immediate negative consequences. But for the lesson to carry over so that the child will obey the rules unobserved, and so that the grown man or woman will not speed on the highway, disipline must penetrate the mind and the heart. It must reach deeper than the level of consciousness needed to produce knee-jerk, stimulus-response type of obedience. As in Henry’s case, it must reach and reconfigure the conscience. And, in order to produce this change of heart, it must be properly perceived.

Strange as it may seem, a teacher’s rebuke can be perceived in many different ways. It may be taken, for example, as a token of hostility: "Mrs. Reed stopped me from running because she hates my guts," the youngster may reason. Or, it may be seen as selfishly motivated: "Mrs. Reed confiscated the ruler I was spinning because she didn’t have one of her own. She wanted mine." Or, it may even be seen as a personality problem on the part of the teacher: "Mrs. Reed stopped us from talking because she’s so bossy. Everybody has to do what she wants." In each case the teacher may secure immediate compliance with her commands. And that is a good end in itself. But, in order to build character and mold future lives, the heart must be reached.

This does not mean that every command to "Stop running!" or "Stop talking!" must be accompanied by a philosophical discussion or recitation of a litany of Bible verses. It is up to the teacher’s discernment as to when and if a particular disciplinary act requires further amplification, either with the class as a whole or with an individual. But at some point in time, preferably early in the school year, the biblical rationale for discipline should be discussed with the class and reviewed as needed with individual offenders. These Scripture verses should prove helpful in doing so:

Often it will be the teacher’s own rules, or those of the school, that the child must obey, such as "No talking while standing in line," or "Sneakers to be worn only on gym days." As demonstrated above, the teacher has authority to command such obedience. There is no need to find a Bible verse to support each specific rule, especially when these are arbitrary rules set at the discretion of the teacher or the school board. In fact, when adults enlist the Bible in support of rules restricting boys from wearing hair over the collar or prohibiting them from wearing earrings, youngsters who know what the Bible really says on these matters (Lev. 19:27; Ex. 32:2) see this misuse of Scripture as hypocrisy, and the overall result is a bad lesson learned rather than a good one. But there are also rules of conduct actually provided by God in the Bible, and when disiplining in these areas it is helpful to invoke the full power of the Word behind the teacher’s word. Some examples are:

Anger

Animals and pets

Arguing

Betraying secrets

Boasting

Bothering other students

Cheating

Choices

Code of silence

Comparisons to others

Complaining

Consider others

Debts

Drunkenness and drug abuse

Extortion

Fighting

Foul language

Friendship

Gossip

Greed

Help others

Horror movies

Lying

Money

Obedience when out of teacher’s sight

Occult practices

Peacemaking

Practical jokes

Promises

Revenge

Sexual immorality

Speaking out of turn

Stealing

Talking back

Think about good things, not bad

Unpunished wrongdoers

Violence, Violent movies

Work

Judging from the violence and substance abuse prevalent in some school systems, teaching youngsters to behave themselves at school is itself a major accomplishment. And, to some extent, good behavior habits that are motivated by classroom rewards and punishments will carry over into the outside world and into later life where work is rewarded financially and wrongdoing is punished by the courts. But if the youngster is restrained only by immediate rewards and punishments, he may soon discover that in the real world often crime does pay and many criminals escape punishment. What then? Knowledge that God will eventually bring wrongdoers to justice may serve as a restraint. But even better is the positive desire to please God. Helping students to know the God of justice and love, and to want to please him, is the most valuable lesson a teacher can impart:

Unpunished wrongdoers

Don’t let failure keep you down.

God requires right conduct.

Grow up!

Make a good name for yourself

The greatest teacher who ever walked the earth, Jesus Christ, chose to communicate many great truths to the hearts of his listeners by telling stories about people: "Two men went up to the temple to pray" (Luke 18:10); "A farmer went out . . . " (Matt. 13:3); "a king who wanted to settle accounts" (Matt. 18:23); "a landowner who went out early in the morning to hire men" (Matt. 20:1); "a man who had two sons" (Matt. 20:28); "ten virgins" (Matt. 25:1); and so on. As a whole the Bible itself is not primarily a book of laws or of witty sayings, but rather a book of people: Cain, Abel, Joseph, Moses, David, Peter, Paul, and a host of others. What better way to teach right conduct and adherence to principles than to discuss with children such individuals whose lives illustrate these very points? The results can often be as dramatic as when King David’s example motivated my student Henry to make a confession, mentioned earlier in this chapter. Since the people of the Bible are so well-known and their stories so familiar, it would seem superfluous to review them here, but perhaps it would be good to close this chapter with a less familiar list of young people who set good examples. Children readily identify with other children, and even with young men and women such as they see themselves soon becoming, so these stories of young people in the Bible provide excellent role models:

•Samuel, "a boy" when he began ministering (1 Sam. 2:18-3:21)

•the "young girl" who served Naaman’s wife (2 Kings 5:2-4)

•Jeremiah who started out when "only a child" (Jer. 1:7)

•Daniel and his young companions (Dan. 1:4, 10)

•Paul’s young nephew (Acts 23:16-22)

•Elihu who counseled Job though "young in years" (Job 32:4-6)

•the boy Jesus (Luke2:41-52)

You, the parents, are the ones who must decide: Will your child go to public school or to Christian school?

The arguments that sway many in favor of public school are many. First of all, it is the easy thing to do. Few who have chosen public education for their children would actually verbalize this as one of the reasons, but it undoubtedly figures foremost for many. Like electricity, people automatically tend to follow the course of least resistance. Christian education requires a decision on the parents’ part, it often requires investigation to determine which school is best for the child, and it may require special transportation arrangements, as well as other parental effort. With public education, on the other hand, you simply register the child once when he or she is old enough to go to school, and then you sit back and relax for twelve or thirteen years until the child pops out the other end of the system, a high school graduate. Now, isn’t that a lot easier? I won’t force anyone to sign a confession, but many will have to admit to themselves that these differences in parental effort requirements played a part in the fact that their children received a public education. But, if Christian education is really best for the child, what a poor excuse parental laziness is!

The same could also be said of another factor that, unfortunately, influences many to choose public education, namely, that "everybody" is doing it. Even in most Christian churches "everybody" seems to be content with public school. But is that a good reason for you to be? Psychological studies have seated a test individual in an audience of people who, unbeknownst to him, are working as part of the psychological study team. When he raises his hand to show agreement with a correct statement, only to notice that no other hand in the room is raised in agreement, the individual being observed will often lower his hand to conform. Or, if everyone else in the room raises their hand to agree with a wrong answer, leaving the person being studied as the only one not raising his hand, he will often look around and slowly raise his own hand out of conformity, even though he knows the answer is wrong. It is not pleasant to hear this, but it is a fact of fallen human nature. In fact, the Bible tells us that most people are headed in the wrong direction. (Matt. 7:13-14) Could this be true also in the matter of education?

Another more legitimate consideration that in many cases turns out to be the deciding factor is the cost. Simply put, you are already paying for public education through your taxes, whereas Christian education will mean more money out of your pocket—perhaps somewhere between $1,000.00 and $3,000.00 annually for each child you enroll. This financial consideration is difficult to ignore. And for some who are already just marginally surviving on their existing income, any sort of private education is obviously out of reach. No matter how necessary or advisable it may be, they can not afford it—like an operation or dental work that is not paid for by insurance and is beyond one’s budget.

On the other hand, I know personally families that have chosen to do without many material things in order to finance a child’s elementary school years. And I know of mothers who would not otherwise have needed to work outside the home who took part-time employment during school hours, in order to pay tuition.

Some would not be so disturbed by the cost of Christian education if they did not have to pay simultaneously for the public education their children would not be receiving. It seems so unfair! Imagine that the only restaurant in town is one where everyone is charged for the turkey dinner. If you order the turkey dinner, fine, you are paying for what what you eat. But if you order steak with rice, you pay for that meal plus the turkey dinner. And if you order fish and chips, you pay for that plus the turkey. Intolerable? Yes, obviously. And many feel that this is exactly the same choice they are given educationally: use this and pay for it, or else use that and pay for it while also paying for this whether you use it or not.

But, wait a minute! If parents in this situation feel they are being treated unfairly, then what about the situation of a childless spinster or bachelor who doesn’t even have any nieces or nephews, but who is paying the same taxes as a man whose children occupy six seats in the public schools? Or, what about a Canadian couple who raise a small family and then, after their children leave home, move to the States and buy a house—only to find that they are paying a huge tax bill to support the local public school system? The spinster, the bachelor, and the couple from Canada are all paying for an education that no one in their family is using, and that they could not use even if they wanted to. Isn’t this unfair too?

Actually in each of these situations—the parents of children in private schools, and childless individuals paying school taxes—it is all a matter of how you look at it. For example, do you feel cheated by the fact that your home has never caught fire while your neighbor whose house nearly burned down got his money’s worth from the fire department? After all, you have paid just as much toward the fire trucks and the firefighters’ salaries, but you have nothing to show for it. Or are you jealous of the man whose home was broken into by criminals and his family held hostage for hours during a police siege, until a swat team finally rushed the building and ended the ordeal—the entire police operation costing the municipality several thousand dollars? Do you regret not getting your money’s worth from the police department? Do you feel uneasy sitting at home and letting the roads and highways go to waste while other people who drive a lot are getting something in return for their taxes?

Public education can be viewed in much the same way. Whether we use the system or not, it is of benefit to the entire community and to us as a part of the community. Even if we pay to send our daughter to a private Christian school, we are still benefitting from the fact that all the other children in the community are learning how to read and write, to do arithmetic, and to fulfill their civic duties as citizens in a democracy. Our tax money that goes toward public education is not wasted simply because we do not have a family member enrolled in the system to consume it directly.

At times I have heard strong Christian families justify sending their children to public school because this gives them opportunities to witness to other kids by word and example. Otherwise, how might some of the unsaved youngsters hear about Christ, they ask. While I sympathize, of course, with the motives of such parents, I must disagree with their methods. In fact, I feel obligated to point out that such an approach to youth evangelism is neither practical nor biblical.

From the standpoint of practicality, consider by way of comparison which person you would select to answer the door of the church fellowship hall when a Jehovah’s Witness or Mormon missionary comes knocking; would you send the pastor who is well trained in apologetics, or would you send a new believer who lacks a good grasp of doctrine? The choice is obvious. The pastor would clearly do better in the ensuing debate, whereas the new believer might even be in danger of having his or her faith undermined. The same is true when it comes to sending someone to witness to youngsters raised by an immoral anti-Christian world. Our children, especially little ones, are themselves too vulnerable to throw into the front lines of the battle. And, even if we do see the need for them to share in combat, how wise is it to start out by sending them alone behind enemy lines? While we might choose to admit a small percentage of kids from unsaved families into our Christian school, in the hope that the overwhelmingly Christian environment will influence them for good, what can we expect the outcome to be if we send one or two of our little ones to an institution where the overwhelming sentiment is in favor of materialism, sexual immorality, and the ways of the world? The Bible says that "He who walks with the wise grows wise, but a companion of fools suffers harm." (Prov. 13:20) And, as if God is anticipating that we wo