A Godless Fundamentalist: Chapter Three – Sex and Rock & Roll at the Christian School

John,

Thank you for being transparent in this chapter. I met with all my teachers in the afternoon after reading your recent chapter. I reminded them that we must never assume the conversion of any student, regardless of his church background, the good reputation of the student’s parents, or conformity to school policies. Until we have a clear profession of faith accompanied by the fruit of the Spirit and the evidences of 1 John, we best assume that this student is on a path that hopefully leads to gospel conversion. It is so easy to assume the Christian status of your students and allow the wholesome atmosphere to persuade you that everything is alright. Decades of experience have taught me differently. We are not loosening up our polices; however, we realize that common grace is, well “common”, but saving grace is something entirely different.

JohnE wrote:

I know the story of Achan inside and outside and every other which away because whenever we would lose a basketball game (which was frequent my first three years), the story would be preached to us in the locker room after the game.

This is ridiculous. What person would actually think there is any application here? I really wonder about people sometimes.

Thank you Mike!

Even my teammates and I knew at the time that it was a ridiculous application. We never took it seriously. It was problematic in that we were looking for excuses to disregard the teachings of the school.

And I hope that I don’t come across as wanting churches, schools, and parents to eschew rules and standards.

One of the ironies that I find amusing is that as I read back over what I’ve written and knowing what I’m planning on writing, I’m writing something that could be used as an anti-rock music sermon. I’d make a great youth camp speaker :)

Seriously, though, I’m pushing (hopefully) towards getting me and my generation to do a better job of looking at how our involvement with pop culture has negatively effected our worldview. Likewise, our teachers and parents missteps aside, ultimately we answer for our choices and our interaction with the gospel. Regardless of even the silly story about Achan above, it would be a lie for me to claim that I did not know the gospel. My heart was the main problem, not the school I attended. Lord willing, that will become even more apparent in the later chapters.

I can smile now, but I remember so many “we lost the game (or when anything went bady) because there was sin in the camp” lectures. I even remember having my class bow their heads until the “Aachan” raised his hand and confessed his sin. Then there were the children’s stories and other illustrations that kept the guilt franchise running.

Please don’t get me wrong either. I’m with John on this thing. I just want to learn from the mistakes I made when I should have been serving students like John.

Rules aren’t inherently problematic. In fact, we all know that they are a necessity to civilized life.
Trouble is that as kids grow, it’s natural for them to question the rules. Kids doubt and question as they enter the “logic” phase. It’s an essential part of their learning and exploration. You need to have a solid, consistent rationale for why the rule exists so they can see that your life makes sense. (Hopefully Biblical sense as well.) Doesn’t matter if they agree with it or no, they need to see the logic behind it. Otherwise, you’ll have trouble.
That’s what happened with so many issues growing up: theaters, music, dress, hair, etc. The answers were so often unsatisfactory and illogical—seemed reactionary—even if the rule was actually good, which cast the whole enterprise into doubt in many of our minds.

John’s Achan story illustrates one of the chief problems Christian schools face—well-meaning people with a surplus of energy and a lack of theology come up with cock-a-mamie “Bible” lessons, with the not surprising result that the kids respond with “well, if he doesn’t understand Achan’s theft has little to do with losing a basketball game, what else doesn’t he know?”

As G.N.’s comments illustrate, you can lose sight of your goal in either justification or sanctification, in the former through pressure tactics generating false converts, and in the latter through false baptisms and Gospel-free training of young people.

I wonder if it matters whether one or both parents or the student himself is a believer at the time of enrollment. Wouldn’t it be helpful to simply tell prospective families that your school is a place where young people are taught the gospel and pointed to Christ? The last school I taught in was probably 30% Roman Catholic with our share of Anglicans, Presbyterians, Baptists, Mormons, Buddhists, and pagans, and our doctrinal statement had a distinctly conservative and protestant flavor. That said, I was thrilled to teach Romans and the Minor Prophets to my 11th graders, because I had the opportunity to lay out the gospel before them in no uncertain terms.

Interestingly enough, one of our science teachers was a former Muslim who had been enrolled there by his father after fleeing Iran. The administration told his parents that they would teach them the word of God and preach the gospel in chapel, and he and his brother were both saved as a result of the school’s ministry.

I know that’s not how many (most?) church schools operate, but I wonder if it wouldn’t be more effective in the long run.

A section of an article I wrote that was published on SI a few years ago:

“A second element of a Christian school that influences enrollment is its admissions policy. Who may attend? It seems a simple question, yet as anyone familiar with Christian schooling knows, there is no consensus answer. The differences in admissions policies, even when subtle, make some students unsuitable prospects in the eyes of some schools, and make some schools unsuitable prospects in the eyes of some students or their parents—but not necessarily for reasons one might expect in either case.

If a Christian school genuinely desires to thrive, it should frame its admissions policies to maximize its potential for enrollment. Can this be done without compromising a school’s principles, or without sacrificing quality?

One facet of admissions is universal. Students and their parents must be at least outwardly amenable to a school’s rules and policies to be admissible. (Inward amenability is harder to ascertain.) As already discussed, rules are an adjustable hurdle in the admissions process. Just as the bar can be set ineffectually low, it also can be set unnecessarily high. The goal must be to set it at an optimal level.

Another facet of admissions is divisive. Must students and/or their parents be Christians (using the evangelical meaning of the word) to attend? In the practice of admissions, sincere convictions differ. Some schools will accept only Christians, while other schools will accept non-Christians also. Offering enrollment to otherwise-admissible non-Christians would certainly enlarge a school’s pool of potential students. It would likely also elicit sharp criticism, both from without and within. Such a polarizing choice warrants careful, informed consideration.

Why might non-Christians want to attend a Christian school? A reason commonly given is shared with many Christians: dissatisfaction with one or more aspects of their local public schools. For example, Christian schools may offer a sense of greater physical safety or smaller class sizes, which have a broad appeal irrespective of one’s faith.

Among Christian schools that have a student faith requirement (at least by a certain age) for attendance, the prevailing view is that unbelieving students could exert a negative influence on their believing peers, and that their presence could undermine the mission or operation of the school. Therefore, why take that risk? These schools emphasize the harm that could result.

Among Christian schools that do not have a student faith requirement for attendance, the prevailing view is that policies that exclude non-Christians are based largely on uncertain premises. They contend that the correlation between justification and sanctification can be tenuous during the adolescent years (meaning that simply excluding non-Christians will eradicate neither negative peer influences nor improper behaviors); that student professions of faith prove to not always be reliable anyway; and that other Christian ministries to youth (Sunday Schools, AWANA, Vacation Bible Schools, summer camps, etc.) virtually always encourage non-Christian attendance, with evangelism as a primary aim. Therefore, why should Christian schooling be different? These schools emphasize the good that could result.

Distinct as they are, each of these views has an abundance of advocates, many of whom can readily invoke biblical passages and principles corroborating their chosen policy. Each view can present a compelling case; nevertheless, each view presents certain difficulties. For example, it seems precarious to stake a claim that admitting only Christians represents a superior spiritual standard, when in practice that policy entails eschewing regular, substantive opportunities to speak and model Truth to non-Christians.”

https://sharperiron.org/article/cars-and-christian-schools-rulebook

It seems to me the enrollment policy question depends on how the school is viewed. If the school as viewed as a discipleship part of the church, enrollment will have one policy. If the school is viewed as an evangelistic tool, it will be viewed another way. If the school is viewed as a means of common grace, it will be viewed another way.

Per Larry’s thought, what John is saying is that odds are that, even in a school that nominally requires Christian faith of its attendees, there will be a lot of non-Christians there simply because parental and peer pressure will lead young people to pretend to be Christians to get in.

One might infer that a “Christians only” policy would end up not just getting non-Christians in attendance, but moreover non-Christians with the habit of lying. Ironically, they may be selecting for behavior problems by trying to avoid them.

The first time I taught in a Christian school was in the late 70’s. Evangelism consisted of chapels and a yearly week-long evangelistic meeting that were heavy on the invitation, raise your hand, and/or walk the aisle technique. This was supplemented by once a year visits by the teachers to the homes of their students where, hopefully, the Gospel would be presented.

In my second tour at the same CDS 14 years later things were different. The admission policy was now open. Chapel was heavy on “How Christians Should Live”, and “Sins to Avoid” type sermons and the HS/Jr Hi students were bored to death, regardless of the speaker. Bible classes were primarily academic with lots of Bible and hymn memorization. My recollection was that it was difficult for teachers to engage students individually. partly because of the academic load they were carrying (what’s a free period?) and partly because showing any form of concern for an individual student was viewed by the “big boss” as playing favorites. The Gospel was mentioned but it was often buried in other “stuff”.

During both tenures we were told that our CDS was not an evangelistic tool.

[Larry Nelson]

A section of an article I wrote that was published on SI a few years ago: “A second element of a Christian school that influences enrollment is its admissions policy. Who may attend?.…”

As I said earlier, I have been around Christian schools of every stripe for as long as I remember remembering. Still work with 20 or so rather intimately, in a spiritual sense. Philosophy of purpose for the school is going to drive a good part of the attendance policy. That is as it should be.

However, one common denominator that crosses all the philosophical boundaries and is Biblical to the core—you have to protect the school, attendees and organization, from the scorner/fool. If there is one element that is common to failure in each and every scenario I see it is the unwillingness to biblically identify and deal with a scorner.

In our modern institutionalized educational environment still the best case scenario is you have kids raising kids. Even more so now with the influx of social media. Situations like this provide practically unhindered influence for a scorner/fool.

Scripture makes it clear what the proper method for handling a scorner is (read Proverbs if in doubt [hint: being nice is not one of the methods] ). Problem has been that the schools needed the revenue (or other qualities considered valuable to the program) too much to act biblically when a scorner was evident. A close second, IM _{[not so]} HO, would be that the faculty, staff, administration, or parents were not connected enough to the students as to accurately discern who was or was not the scorner.

I’m not suggesting we practice surgery with a chain saw, check mercy at the door, or any such thing. Balance! Balance! Balance! But the fact of the matter is that if you willingly allow, for good reasons or bad, a scorner to have significant influence, the ability to influence spiritually, especially for the long-term, is greatly diminished.

The admissions policy for the Christian school (Northpointe Christian) that 2 of my kids attend has the policy that at least one of the parents needs to be a believer. They need to be able to articulate a belief in Christ, how they are growing in Christ and their involvement in a local church. But having to supplement my income as an urban missionary through subbing once a week and coaching both football and track at the school, my experience in getting to know the kids and their families is that many parents probably faked their testimony so that they could get their child into the school. From my experience with Northpointe- which is in the conservative-evangelical camp (students come from GARBC Baptist, IFCA Bible, Christian Reformed/PCA, and Charismatic backgrounds), about 1/3 of the students passionately love Jesus, about 1/3 of the students have no relationship with Jesus, and about 1/3 are on the fence–they could find themselves in either camp. In fact, a couple years ago when my oldest graduated from this high school, they wouldn’t allow the Valedictorian to give a speech at graduation because he was agnostic. But the key line in John’s essay is this: Instead, my friends and I were fed a steady diet of moralism. We were treated as Christians who needed to be protected from sin and not as sinners who needed Jesus. And I’d say Northpointe and many other Christian schools are recognizing this more and more. We’ve seen the difference since my wife graduated from Northpointe (back then it was Grand Rapids Baptist High School) in 1991 when it was mostly about moralism with a little sprinkling of Jesus.