Harmonizing Rigor and Rest in Classical Education

A Scholé-Inspired Blended Wine

Photo by Kelsey Knight on Unsplash

It is common to speak about the virtue of a rigorous education. From one perspective, I have no qualms with advocating a rigorous education. But the phrase, “rigorous education” is equivocal. What do we really mean when we say we want a rigorous education for our children?

Here are some excerpts from actual classical schools that note academic rigor:

• Christ-centered and Academically Rigorous Curriculum – Grounded in the basic doctrine of the historic Christian Faith.

• We believe our rigorous academic standards will easily meet the expectations of accrediting organizations.

• Our school seeks to train hearts and minds for the glory of God through rigorous curricula, character education, competitive athletics, fine & performing arts, and an array of extra‐ and co-curricular activities.

• Additionally, the academic philosophy, rigorous curriculum, and high educational standards in Catholic schools lead to higher academic achievement, standardized test scores, and college acceptance rates.

When we try to briefly describe something as complex as education, we are necessarily limited by the words we use. To call a curriculum “classical” does not clearly and unequivocally communicate what the curriculum is. To call a marriage or a family “traditional” suffers from the same ambiguity. These designations are more like the title of an essay or a book than a discrete definition. The same is true of a good red wine—how to describe it? Full-bodied and robust… elegant and poised…expressive and dynamic. A good wine is complex, a blend.

I have no significant objections when someone calls a curriculum “classical” or “rigorous” any more than I do if he calls his family “traditional.” As in most cases, context matters–or just more text. If a school website notes that its curriculum is rigorous–nolo contestare. But what else does it say about its curriculum? How am I to understand the employment of “rigor” as part of the multifaceted curriculum? Is there any mention of contemplation, wonder, delight, and rest? Or has rigor swallowed them whole? Even the school’s website might not be sufficient, and an actual conversation might be needed–or a school visit.

In the larger context of falling standards in education–and falling performance–it is justifiable for classical educators to note that their education and curriculum is rigorous. Rigor is a corrective counter to test-prep education and social promotion. But rigor as the only response is not sufficient–and any good thing can be taken to an unintended extreme, and thus corrupt it.

We have borrowed rigor straight from Latin. In Latin rigor means stiffness, hardness, strictness, severity (think of “rigid”). In modern English it has come to mean strictness, severity, or inflexible precision. When applied to education it typically refers to a high standard of discipline, thoroughness, and challenge in thinking or learning. I think this is what most classical schools mean when they employ the word–but the word does still suffer from connotations of strictness, severity, and inflexible precision. Therefore, in my opinion, it should be used carefully and in a fuller context of what constitutes a robust classical curriculum and pedagogy.

If we are not careful, rigor becomes the privileged means of considering our curriculum to the exclusion of other virtues which we also seek for the way we teach and order our studies. If our curriculum is rigorous is it only rigorous? Is it also beautiful, good, and shot through with wonder? A good wine is usually a blend of several lovely elements. I think I would buy a bottle of blended red wine labeled Rigor and Rest.

Photo by Mae Mu on Unsplash

Just as the Christian faith is at the same time energetic and forceful but also meek and peace-loving, so is a human education both rigorous and restful, in a harmonious blend. The best marriage and the most healthy family will also be a blend that is hard to subject to scientific analysis and give a score. My marriage this month fell to an 82 out of 100… No, I think I would have to resort to words and a on very good day describe my marriage as something like elegant and poised, expressive and dynamic, or even bold and daring. Anything good is a harmony, a blend.

As many of us have been working to recover the classical tradition we have indeed found rigor but also rest and wonder. The contemplative mode of learning and study has usually been present along with the active, energetic, and rigorous mode–certainly this was the case for the nearly 1000 years in which monastic education was the main way people received a “classical” education throughout Europe.¹

We found one indicator of the restful mode simply by tracing the etymology of “school” back to the Greek word scholé. As Plato and Aristotle² used it, scholé is undistracted time to study the things most worthwhile, usually with one's friends, usually in a beautiful place, and often with good food and drink. In modern experience, there is not much scholé in our schools.

Now increasing numbers of classical schools are blending their wine and offering rigor and rest.

After some 15 years of studying the tradition of scholé, I have finally released a short book on the subject called The Scholé Way: Bringing Restful Education Back to School and Homeschool. My colleague Jon Balsbaugh and I will be discussing the book and recovery of scholé over three live discussions. If you or someone you know might be interested in joining us, see the link below.

Discuss the Scholé Way with Dr. Christopher Perrin and Jon Balbaugh.

1. See especially The Love of Learning and the Desire for God by Jean Leclercq.

2. For this Greek understanding of scholé, see Book VII and VIII in Aristotle’s Politics.