How one views the distinction between the law and the gospel will significantly affect one’s view of how education ought to function. If one sees no distinction between the law and the gospel, he most likely will employ, simply by default, some type of law model for education. The law is easy to understand. Good results are tied to good performance, and poor results are tied to poor performance. Study hard, and you will earn higher grades. Do this, and you will get that. That is education under the law. It works, literally.

The gospel functions quite differently. To be under the gospel is to be under grace, and grace cuts the ties of performance loose from results. Under grace one receives gifts and rewards that one does not at all deserve. The gospel is hard to understand. To the carnal mind, in fact, grace makes no sense at all. How can any school function under such terms as undeserved rewards and unmerited results? Why would anyone even want to try? It won’t work…or will it?

To understand the reason for using a gospel model of education instead of a law model, we need to understand what is going on theologically with the law and the gospel. The apostle Paul instructs us in Romans 8:3 and Galatians 4:9 that the law of God is weak and beggarly. How can Paul use such derogatory adjectives to describe the good and perfect law of God? Because that law does not, cannot, and never was intended to save anyone. There is no grace in the law. There is only grace in the gospel. And grace is power. The law has no such saving power. The law does have power, but it is of an entirely different sort. The law has the power and authority to kill. Disobey God’s infinitely holy law in one small jot, and all of the curses of the law will be upon you. And more, you will deserve every one of them. The law has tremendous strength and power. But the law has no power to make alive. It only has power to kill.

The gospel has power to make alive. The gospel is not only good news about Jesus Christ; the gospel is Jesus Christ. That is why he is also called the Word. When Jesus said, “I am the way, the truth, and the life” (John 14:6), he was telling us where the only source of life is. There is no life apart from Jesus Christ, the Word. And that is true in every sense. From the original creation of all things (see John 1:3), to the resurrection of Jesus Christ after his crucifixion and death, to the resurrection of the dead when Christ returns once more, the principle of life belongs to Jesus Christ alone. It is his to possess, and it is his to impart. The law administers death. The gospel administers life. Such life happens only in Jesus Christ by the Holy Spirit of Jesus Christ.

What does any of this have to do with learning and education? Everything. Learning happens in the context of life, not death. Those who are in the midst of death are not going to be learning very much. Besides the issue of ability, there would be little point to learning. But those who are alive and have the hope of everlasting life in their hearts have every reason to increase in learning and grow in understanding. And since physical life on this earth is in reality nothing more than a continual death, this means that heavenly life will be the focus of a gospel-based education. That is not to deny that learning the knowledge and skills necessary for living and thriving on this earth must be included in education, but it is to acknowledge that there must be more than that to education. We are presently on this earth. We are not presently in heaven. Nevertheless, we belong to heaven, even now. Life on this earth is important, but it is not all-important. Life on this earth will end. Life in heaven will not. Our view of education will reflect that perspective.

In practical terms this means that rules and grades and standards, or the things of the law and the things of this earth, are not thrown out as if they were useless. Students’ progress in learning matters, and charting that progress matters. Obedient and orderly behavior matters. The question is, why do these things matter? The law says that they are important because good grades and good behavior will get you somewhere in this life. Do this, and you will get that. That is how everything in this world works…it would seem.

But that is not how the gospel works. The gospel is completely opposed to the whole system of merit, earning, and rewards. The gospel truly is other-worldly, a concept that may seem to have sprung from an alien mind. “Do this, and you get that” no longer applies. “You get that” regardless of what you do or don’t do. To one steeped in the ways of the law, that concept will seem more than strange. It will be held in suspicion, to the point of derision. How can this kind of grace be just and fair? What incentive will be left to “do this” if you’ve already “got that”? In the end you cannot have both. You are going to function either according to the law or according to the gospel. And that is where the problem lies. One must apply either the law or the gospel to education as well. A choice must be made.

The natural fear of most people will be that no incentives to learn will be left at all if the gospel is chosen as the main mode of education. Why bother to try to memorize a load of facts and struggle to understand how they all fit together? Why bother to follow any classroom rules at all and obey the teacher? One who sees the world only through the lens of the law will inevitably ask such questions. But those questions have answers. Once more, if we examine what is going on theologically between the law and the gospel, the practical implications for how we teach our children will become clear.

Within the true gospel of Jesus Christ, the law of God is not thrown out and discarded but is rather employed within its rightful and intended use. The law shows us God’s righteous and holy perfections, while also showing us our dreadful misery and failures. Jesus came not to destroy the law but to fulfill it. The law of God is good. So it is in education. Rules for life within the school are necessary and good, and so is knowledge of students’ progress in learning. Grades will not be thrown out, but their purpose and function will be seen differently. Grades will be used to measure the success of the teaching, to see what has in fact been taught. How well a student can study for a test does not necessarily tell us all that much about what he or she might have actually learned. To be able to perform well on a test is certainly helpful, but even that cannot be the main goal. Just like the gospel has everything to do with grace and not with works, a gospel-based education has everything to do with understanding, wisdom, praise of God, and privilege, not with mere test grades and outward behavior.

What does all of that look like in real life? The increase of students’ knowledge and understanding; the growth of their characters; and an ability to think, reason, and discern will be the goals. A law-based education might appear on the surface to contribute to those same goals, but the freedom of the student that necessarily involves his or her ability to think and discern can be of little concern, if not entirely missing. In fact, a lack of critical thinking might be seen as advantageous under a law-based system, where rules are to be obeyed and not questioned. Obedience and performance will be everything. In a gospel-based system, critical thinking and discernment will be everything. Just as the law is there to serve the gospel, theologically speaking, obedience and performance are there to serve the education of thought and thinking. To obey is not the end in itself, as wonderful and necessary as obedience and good behavior may be. The charge of making stocks and blocks is thrown around a lot these days, but this is where the real charge lies: when obedient behavior is everything, a mechanical robot will fit the requirement quite nicely. That is a true stock and block. Rather, within a gospel model of education, freedom of thought will be the goal. Not robotic slaves but free children of God who willingly love and glorify God are the ones who will be growing in their understanding. To stand beneath the dark blackness and fire of Mount Sinai is to stand beneath a very different mountain than the gloriously shining grace and mercy of Mount Zion (see Heb. 12:18–24). Those two mountains illustrate the difference between the law and the gospel. They also illustrate the difference between a law-based model for education and a gospel-based model. As Hebrews 12 instructs us, we have come to dwell under the mighty protection of Zion’s righteous hill, not the terrifyingly fearsome thunder of Sinai. In the end no creature survives under Mount Sinai. No one is holy enough. We would all perish.

Sheer obedience and real learning do not necessarily go together. Running a tight ship may look very neat and tidy, but rules will not necessarily keep that ship on course and get it to its destination. Navigating the ocean with all of its variable waves and wind speeds requires more than following a perfectly laid out plan. Survival, in fact, may demand a different path altogether than the originally intended one. Decisions need to be made. Storms happen. Lulls happen. A properly educated captain will be able to deal with such unforeseen circumstances. And that is life on this earth. God has shown us the final destination to which he is bringing us, and our arrival at the shores of that crystal sea is sure. We know where we are going. But what specifically will happen on the way there is not ours to know. That is only ours to discover. And that is what education must prepare us for. The goal (heaven) is a given, but we need much help on our journey there. Just as the Israelites needed to be led through the wilderness into the land of Canaan, learning more and more all along the way, so do we. That is our life. That is the kind of education we need. That kind of education involves freedom of thought and thinking. Obedience to God’s law did not get the miserably stiff-necked nation of Israel to Canaan. God’s abundant grace and mercy did. Indeed, the Israelites were freed from Egypt’s bondage even before they received God’s commands engraved in stone. Abraham received the gospel of the covenant promise from God in Genesis 15 four hundred and thirty years before his astoundingly multiplied posterity knew anything about Sinai and the law of God (see Gal. 3:17). The order of both of these events is significant. The gospel is always first. And the gospel involves freedom.

Note that the freedom of thought that will be encouraged in a gospel model of education will not be just any kind of thought and will certainly not be sinful kinds of thinking. True freedom will be found under only one specific heading: “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge” (Prov. 1:7). That means all wisdom and knowledge are to be found in the adoration and ardent love of God. In that mind we are truly free. There are no bounds to the love and praise and reverent fear of God. Nor does that fear include any connotation of terror. If some kind of threatening or intimidating fear was meant here, that would accurately describe a law model of education. “Obey or else” is a threat. “Do this to get that” is nothing more than a form of bondage. But there is no threat, no intimidation, and no coercion in true and free fear of the Lord. John instructs us in 1 John 4:18 that perfect love casts out fear (the terror kind of fear). To such perfect love, there is no constraint.

Also, from a purely practical point of view, freedom must be the hallmark of a gospel-based education. Both critical and creative thinking are essential to education, and both of those happen within the realm of freedom. Note that creative thinking may not be separated from critical thinking at this point. Critical thinking, in fact, cannot happen without creative thinking. They go together. They must go together. One can neither find the problem nor begin to solve it without some measure of creativity operating in both of those quests. In contrast, and strictly speaking, under the law one is simply told what to think, say, and do. There need be no creativity or freedom involved in that. The problems have already been solved for you. All you need to do is agree to the answers and remember them.

This explains why under the hierarchy of communism, freedom of thought is not encouraged, and artistic expression is not appreciated. Those who advance will be the ones who go along with whatever they are told by those in authority. Conformity is applauded, not free thinking, creativity, or criticism.

Perhaps the picture is becoming clearer. The point is that all of this applies to one’s idea of what constitutes a healthy, God-glorifying, covenantal, and Reformed education. The law will have its place. Learning is not going to progress very well under an umbrella of lawless chaos. Continuity, consistency, and order must be part of an educational environment. Having a set of rules and some type of law in operation will be necessary in that regard. But we may never stop there. The law serves the gospel—but the gospel never serves the law. Law and order set the stage for learning, but law and order do not constitute learning. Genuine understanding happens only within the freedom that a gospel model of education offers. There must be freedom to grow, to question, to ponder, to wonder, and to praise God in all of that. If no questions are asked, no answers will be sought, and then…none will be found, either. The gospel allows for both the questions and their answers. Both are needed for growth. The law only has commands.

What exactly does this difference look like in the classroom? There is one more use of the law, and perhaps that will explain this best. First, the law shows us our sin and misery, to our great sorrow and shame. Second, the law shows us the righteous and holy perfections of God, to the praise of his holy name. And third, in the face of the gospel, the law’s commands show us exactly how to thank God for all that he is and has done for us. That is what we want to do above all else. God put that law in our hearts. The law still represents our misery because we never obey it perfectly in this life, as we sincerely desire to do; nevertheless, it is our great joy and privilege to endeavor to obey it. Obedience to God’s law is no bondage and no drudgery. It is pure gift and privilege.

The law may be very difficult to obey; but difficulty, privilege, and joy can all go together. The law was not easy for our Lord to obey at Golgotha. He sweat great drops of blood at Gethsemane over the thought of obeying it. But the infinitely difficult and perfect obedience to God’s law that Jesus accomplished throughout his whole life and especially on the cross paved the way for our never-ending joyful and thankful obedience now and into eternity. Something of that joyful gratitude will be reflected in the classroom. It will be shining through the atmosphere. Even in all of the trials, struggles, and heartbreaks that inevitably go along with the maturing process at every age, a certain happiness will be enduring. There will be an underlying gratitude. Rules still must be obeyed, order still must be kept, and discipline still must be administered, but fear of punishment will not be the incentive. Rather, for obedience to be real obedience (which is love), it must spring exclusively out of gratitude. That is the difference, and that difference is great. Like tiny chicks hiding beneath their mother’s protective wings, the students know they are kept safe under the gospel’s mighty and all-comforting truths as well. Love and gratitude go together. Always.

Another difference under a gospel model for education will be the presence of an overt expectation of heaven. It may be argued that even under the law’s influence, heaven is not denied. That is true. But under the law heaven is not expected. Under the law children are seen as little vipers. Under the gospel children are seen as little citizens of heaven. Citizens of heaven are going to be treated differently than vipers. Not that these little citizens never act like vipers, and not that their sins are going to be denied or ignored. These little citizens of heaven are, indeed, still sinners on this earth. But they are not vipers. Their expectation is heaven. Heaven or hell is not held as a question over their heads. Such a question may be asked later in life, when in maturity a wayward son or daughter exhibits evidence that makes the question undeniable; but as little children, there is some measure of foolishness that is bound up in all of their hearts. Scripture says so in Proverbs 22:15. Adults know so from their own experiences. Under the gospel the expectation of heaven is still there, even in the face of great sin. All of our sins are great. The activity of faith that the Holy Spirit creates in our hearts looks not at those sinful things that are seen but at those heavenly things that are not seen. Part of the knowledge and confidence of faith for us is that heaven is to an extent a reality in our lives already now. In the day of Christ’s return, heaven will be our reality in full. That kind of knowledge and confidence will be reflected in the classroom. That will determine what is important to teach and what is not. That will also determine our attitude toward what is taught. All of it will be seen in the light of heaven. And that light is bright and clear. That light will affect every subject that is taught. Life, and therefore education too, is not all about this earth. We are merely on an arduous journey in the wilderness here, traveling somewhere else.

And that “somewhere else” is certain. That needs to be emphasized as well. That is more than an intellectually-
known fact. When we say that our expectation is heaven, we mean that that expectation is absolutely sure. We can stake our lives on it. We can order our days by it. For creatures of dust, that may be hard to grasp. The word on our present dust-encrusted street is that nothing is certain in this life except death and taxes. There is some truth to that. That is our wilderness. But that is not all there is. Much more is going on. Much, much more.

Count the stars, Abram (see Gen. 15:5). And do you know when the hinds calve, Job? Did you appoint the months of their birth? Did you design the exquisitely-
ordered patterns on a peacock’s feathers? Did you set the bounds of the seas, with all their swelling tides and retreating pools (see Job 39:1–2, 13; 38:8–11)? Those are the things that a gospel-based education will begin to ponder. And why is that? Why look into the deep and beautiful things of this creation? Because those things reveal the power and majesty and glory of God, the God who is our God and who will surely take us to heaven to live with him forever and ever—just as surely as he knows the number of the stars and brings the hinds to calve in their appointed seasons. He is God.

In that mindset we teach our children. Not because we are better than they are or because we are smarter. All we are is a little more experienced, being placed on a slightly different timeline by God as we journey through this wilderness together with them. It is a journey to a destination that is sure and certain for all of God’s little citizens of heaven, young and old.