The Classroom As Cathedral: Part 2 Of “Educating Our Children”
In Part 1 of this series, The Battle for Minds, we established the first principle of education: it begins at home. Before any textbook is cracked, before any classroom door is opened, before any curriculum is selected, there must be a foundation of the fear of the Lord built upon the living-room floor. If a child does not know God, then he cannot know anything rightly. And if a home does not preach Christ, then no school—no matter how classical or Christian—can save that child from Babylon.
But the home is not the finish line of education. It is the starting line. And once the baton has been passed in that great relay race of discipleship, the question becomes: Where do we send our children next?
Public school? Private school? Charter school? Classical Christian academy? Co-op? Homeschool? Boarding school in the Alps?
What many fail to recognize is that this decision is not merely logistical or preferential—it is deeply theological. Because every school is a seminary. Every classroom is a cathedral. Every teacher is a theologian. Every curriculum is a catechism. And every educational system is an evangelistic program meant to disciple the heart, affections, imagination, and worldview of your child. The only question is: Which god is being worshiped there?
This is not alarmism. It is simple, observable, theological fact.
Every school teaches children what is lovely, what is true, what is beautiful, and what is worth living and dying for. They may not use religious terms, but make no mistake: liturgies abound. There are sacred texts (textbooks), high priests (teachers), rites of passage (exams), communal chants (pledges and slogans), saints (historical heroes), and martyrs (figures who died for the movement).
In other words, there is no such thing as a neutral education.
So when Christian parents casually outsource their child's soul to the state, as though it's just about geography or convenience, they are placing that child in the sanctum of a rival religion. The gods of the modern educational establishment are not Yahweh. They are Self, Science, Statism, and Sex. And behind every one of those idols, as Paul says, lurks a demon (1 Cor. 10:20).
Sending your child to public school without the armor of truth and the foundation of Christ is like sending him to Molech with a lunchbox and a prayer. And yet, this does not mean that every parent who chooses public school is a reprobate or a fool. There are exceptional circumstances—military families with no options, poverty-stricken parents with no access, persecuted Christians in totalitarian regimes. But let us not confuse permissible with profitable. The exception does not nullify the rule.
We must be very clear here: your child will be catechized. The only question is whether that catechism will come from the God who made them or the world that hates Him. There is no in-between.
The world is not interested in teaching your child to read and write. It is interested in teaching your child to reinterpret Genesis as myth, to see Romans 1 as hate speech, to see gender as a social construct, to see the state as Savior, and to see Christ as irrelevant. The goal is not knowledge. It is allegiance. The aim is not literacy. It is liturgy.
Which brings us to the question: what should Christian parents aim for?
If the home is the sanctuary where knowledge of God begins, then the school must be the extension of that sanctuary. It must be a place that honors God, reveres Scripture, loves truth, and disciples children in the way of Christ. It must not just sprinkle Bible verses on top of a pagan worldview like powdered sugar on a dung heap. It must be rooted in the fear of the Lord from the syllabus to the schedule.
This is why homeschooling is not just a fallback plan—it is a glorious calling. When done well, it allows for comprehensive discipleship, tailored instruction, and full immersion into the culture of Christ. It gives parents maximum access, maximum oversight, and maximum opportunity to shape the soul. It is no wonder that Satan hates it.
Likewise, Christian academies and classical schools—those that are truly centered on Christ and not just Christian in name—can be powerful allies in the work of raising up dragon slayers, culture makers, and gospel warriors. But even then, parents must beware. Not all Christian schools are created equal. Some wear a Christian mask but dance to secular music behind the scenes. Others are beholden to accreditation standards that compromise theological clarity. Others fear offending donors more than offending God.
So discernment is key. The question is never: Is this school impressive? The question is: Is Christ enthroned here? Is the fear of God the beginning of knowledge in this institution, or is it an afterthought? Is the Word of God the standard, or is it just an ornament on the bookshelf?
Let your children learn astronomy, but only after they know Who made the stars. Let them study literature, but only if they know what story they're in. Let them learn civics, but only if they know that Jesus is King. Let them learn science, but only if they know that the heavens declare the glory of God.
Otherwise, you are not educating your child. You are embalming them with information. You are not training an image-bearer. You are manufacturing a useful idiot for the modern regime.
This is why the church must once again embrace its role as the primary culture-shaping institution on earth. We must build schools. We must fund co-ops. We must equip parents. We must preach this from the pulpits. We must recover the lost doctrine that discipleship includes education. We cannot merely complain about woke indoctrination while feeding our children to the wolves five days a week.
Education is not just a matter of math scores and grammar drills. It is about allegiance. It is about adoration. It is about discipleship. And if our children graduate with honors, scholarships, and job offers—but without Christ—we have not succeeded. We have failed spectacularly.
So build your home as a sanctuary. Fill it with the aroma of worship and the light of the Word. Then, and only then, ask yourself: what kind of school would best extend this sanctuary into the world? That is where your child belongs.
Not every parent can do the same thing. But every parent must do something that reflects the Lordship of Christ over the education of their children. You are the steward. You are the shepherd. You are the gatekeeper of your child's mind.
Because, make no mistake: the classroom is a cathedral. Choose the altar your child lays upon well.
