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Redefining Religious Education
Redefining Religious Education
Spirituality for Human Flourishing
Where this book is distributed in the UK, Europe and the rest of
the world, this is by Palgrave Macmillan, a division of Macmillan
Publishers Limited, registered in England, company number 785998, of
Houndmills, Basingstoke, Hampshire RG21 6XS.
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Contents
The proposal for this book was originally put forward at an international sym-
posium on the theme of “Religion, Spirituality and Education for Human
Flourishing” held on February 24–26, 2012, in Marrakech, Morocco. This vol-
ume is a collection of selected articles presented at the symposium.
We first want to thank each of the contributors of this volume who were
also participants and discussants at the Marrakech Symposium. We are grate-
ful for the invaluable insights they shared into the challenges and complexities
confronting religious education today.
We are most indebted to Simon Xavier Guerrand-Hermès, the Chairman of
the Guerrand-Hermès Foundation for Peace, for his great generosity and hospi-
tality in hosting the symposium at his personal home in Marrakech.
We are equally thankful for the Guerrand-Hermès Foundation for Peace
for its financial sponsorship, which had made the symposium possible. We
thank, in particular, the trustees of the foundation, without whose support
we wouldn’t have been able to put together this collection.
We also thank the United Nations Alliance of Civilizations for its partnership
in helping draw together religious leaders, spiritual practitioners, policy makers,
and educationalists from around the world to participate in the dialogue and
conversation at the symposium. The leaders of the Alliance—in particular, its
High Representative, H.E. Mr. Nassir Abdulaziz Al-Nasser—have been excep-
tionally supportive of us in the process of editing this unique volume, which
is also an expression of the Alliance’s dedication and commitment to religious
education for spiritual growth.
We owe a special note of thanks to Laura Hobson at the Guerrand-Hermès
Foundation for Peace for her invaluable administrative support, as well as to
the team at the Palgrave Macmillan for their assistance during the final produc-
tion phase.
Last, but not least, we are thankful for all other support, input, and help
from our families, friends, and colleagues.
We dedicate this book to the children and young people today who have
made this work worthwhile.
Scherto Gill and Garrett Thomson
Foreword
So what does this mean for us? We must promote views that are open-
minded, not restricted. We must reject intolerance and encourage a culture of
acceptance and understanding. This can be done primarily through education,
communication, and sound policies. We need to start addressing the issue of
radicalization not just as a question of religion but as a problem rooted in edu-
cation and having economic, social, political, and humanitarian dimensions.
To live in peace, we must embrace our diversity, a task that must be taken up
by all elements of society, including nongovernmental organizations, religious
leaders, and other civil society groups, including business.
At the Alliance of Civilizations, we strongly believe that education plays a
tremendous role in preparing people to cope with diversity, whether religious or
cultural. That is why we were keen to join forces with the GHFP in organizing
this symposium to explore the role that religious education can play in culti-
vating virtues and spirituality and to redefine religious education aimed at the
spiritual and moral growth of the individual.
The UNAOC Fellowship Program, developed in partnership with the
GHFP, is also an educational initiative aimed at exposing world’s emerging
leaders to religion, media, culture, politics, and civil society. It is a platform for
sharing knowledge and ideas and inspiring partnerships across faiths, borders,
and cultures. The UNAOC Summer School Program extends the themes of
interfaith dialogue and multiculturalism. It is based on the idea that people
have more in common than what divides them.
I hope that through the theories and case studies captured in this book and
the different educative endeavors of both our organizations, the following mes-
sage is clear: Though we were born to different faiths, though we may speak in
separate tongues, we all live on this same earth as a part of one human family.
Thus it is our duty and our right to transcend our differences and build peace
across our communities.
General Introduction
T
his volume is dedicated to the proposition that religious education
should be directed primarily (but not exclusively) toward the spiri-
tual insofar as it is part of a flourishing human life. This proposal was
originally put forward at an international symposium on the theme “Religion,
Spirituality and Education for Human Flourishing.” Convened jointly by the
Guerrand-Hermès Foundation for Peace and the United Nations Alliance of
Civilizations on February 24–26, 2012, in Marrakech, Morocco, the sym-
posium drew together religious leaders, spiritual practitioners, policy mak-
ers, and educationalists in an attempt to redefine religious education in the
way described. This volume is a collection of selected articles presented at
the symposium.
In this introduction, we explain the initial plausibility of this proposal and,
in so doing, provide an overview of some of the obstacles that such a project
needs to overcome and some of the opportunities that it affords.
It is widely accepted that spirituality represents a core dimension of human
experience. Today’s world is facing unprecedented challenges, and this suggests
a pressing need for education to develop a deeper awareness of the spiritual
dimensions of our lives.
Most of the major world religions claim that their core teachings aim at cul-
tivating spirituality. In fact, some religions claim that the essence of the religious
life is spiritual. Despite the differences in their beliefs, practices, and concep-
tions of the divine or of ultimate reality, religions tend to promote values and
virtues that belong to all humans regardless of their tradition. Thus one might
presume that religion can play an important contributing role in cultivating
spirituality in education and schooling.
Given this perspective, there is renewed interest in exploring the part that
religious education might play in cultivating virtues and spirituality. Under
various names, such as “education about religion,” “faith education,” “reli-
gious studies,” and “religious education,” the teaching of religious beliefs has
already been integrated into the national curriculum of many countries. How-
ever, often the main focus of such religious education is to impart knowledge
2 O Redefining Religious Education
This Volume
In the context of these challenges, there is a need for a new and reframed
inquiry and debate about these important issues. The chapters in this volume
address many aspects of this challenge from theoretical, religious, and educa-
tional points of view. We asked the contributors to answer the question, “How
can religious education aim to cultivate the spiritual development of the indi-
vidual?” We looked for a multidisciplinary approach that would address the
issues and challenges outlined in this introduction.
We considered an explicit focus on human flourishing as important and
innovative. Many interreligious dialogues tend to center their exploration on
pluralism, interreligious understanding, intercultural learning, and social cohe-
sion to the exclusion of the relevance of spirituality. Because of this, such dia-
logues often ignore the value of human life and sometimes instrumentalize
human ethics for political and social ends, such as social cohesion and intercul-
tural and interreligious harmony.
We were excited to ask representatives of different religions to share how,
within their traditions, individuals understand the spiritual life and its relevance
for education. We invited, in particular, traditions that are not often included
in mainstream dialogues, such as those of the Brahma Kumaris, Sikhs, Zen
Buddhists, and Indigenous traditions. We encouraged them to address thorny
value questions, such as “What is spirituality?” “How is spirituality relevant for
human flourishing?” and “How are religions relevant to spirituality?”
At the same time, we wanted the chapters to have both theoretical depth
and practical insight. For this reason, we included contributions from philoso-
phers and religious thinkers, as well as educational practitioners. We asked the
thinkers to develop theoretical frameworks for the spiritual life and to explain
how religious education can help enhance spirituality. We asked the educational
practitioners in the field to describe and explain their pedagogical strategies
and practices that tackle the dilemmas and challenges of education for spiri-
tuality. These case studies are drawn from different countries, including New
Zealand, the United Kingdom, other European countries, the United States,
4 O Redefining Religious Education
Israel, India, and South Africa. We hope that they help make this scholarly book
accessible and practically illuminating for readers.
Religious Education
Why should religion be studied in schools? Some of the answers that seemed
obvious in many countries fifty years ago no longer look so convincing. For
example, in the United Kingdom, the Plowden Report, published in 1967,
claimed that the aim of religious education was to introduce faith, the love of
God, and moral virtues (Central Advisory Council for Education 1967). At
that time, teaching Christianity from within a Christian perspective seemed
very reasonable in a largely Christian society. Today, in more pluralistic and
secular societies, these once apparent certainties have dissolved.
It is important to ask why religion should be taught in schools. The answer
will determine how the religious education curriculum should be shaped and
what the tone of its pedagogy should be. Broadly speaking, we can classify the
possible answers as follows:
Needless to say, these answers are not mutually exclusive. However, any course
of study requires one to have focused aims and cannot be overbroad, and in this
sense, we need to make some choices.
As we said at the beginning, this volume is dedicated to the idea that reli-
gious education should be directed primarily toward spirituality as a part of
human flourishing. Thus this book can be regarded as an attempt to articu-
late the reasons this fifth aim should be primary, though not exclusive. Conse-
quently, we will return to this theme in the conclusion to the book after hearing
from the contributors.
General Introduction O 5
What Is Spirituality?
One of the fundamental challenges confronting any project like this one is to
define the notions of spirituality, spiritual development, and a spiritual life,
which are notoriously vague. If such concepts are to provide some direction and
content to religious education in schools, they need to be made more precise.
In this introduction, we will identify some of the main issues involved in such
a process.
Structure
The spiritual is supposed to be something good. Any account of the concept
must explain what is desirable about being spiritual. Part of this explanation will
include the causal benefits of being or living spiritually; for instance, it might be
good for one’s emotional health or for one’s mental abilities, such as concentra-
tion. Conceived in this way, these benefits only posit the spiritual as a means to
an end. However, to define the concept, we need to specify what is directly and
primarily or noninstrumentally valuable about being spiritual. Such a specifica-
tion would be central to any account of the concept of the spiritual.
This idea constitutes one way to structure different conceptions of the spiri-
tual. For example, states that are indirectly and noninstrumentally valuable may
relate in different ways to the central core of the concept of the spiritual. For
instance, there are psychologically, morally, and socially beneficial consequences
that flow from a state of being spiritual, such as good health. There are other
valuable states that are preparations or necessary conditions for being spiritual,
such as tranquility. There are yet others that are valuable as expressions of the
spiritual, such as generosity of feeling. The recognition that the concept usually
has a structure enables us to avoid defining “spirituality” as an unconnected list
of qualities.
Category
The valuable core of the spiritual might be characterized in terms of quite dif-
ferent categories. For example, it might consist of an experience, a set of activi-
ties or processes, a state of consciousness, a way of life, or a state of being (or
a combination of these). Furthermore, it might be conceived as a goal to be
attained or as a process without a defined end state. So, for instance, in many
versions of the Buddhist tradition, there is an end state that one works toward,
whereas in many versions of the Islamic tradition, the spiritual consists in a
process of a continuing submission to God rather than an end state that is to
be attained.
6 O Redefining Religious Education
Bracketed
Should a definition of “spiritual” bracket the reality of the phenomenon in
question? Many definitions include feelings such as awe, love, and worship.
One might take those to be experiences of something real (that exists indepen-
dently of one’s experiences). Religious traditions tend to do that. In contrast,
psychologists of religion will bracket or suspend this assumption. They will
investigate the experience without assuming that it answers to something real.
General Introduction O 7
Flourishing
How does spirituality relate to flourishing and well-being? Why is this ques-
tion important? The question is ultimately important for three reasons. First,
in some sense, human flourishing is a primary and fundamental value. Most of
our endeavors and activities make sense ultimately only as contributors to or
constituents of a happy life. For example, we don’t pursue economic wealth for
its own sake but rather because it helps ameliorate a lived life.
Second, our understanding of well-being improves when we see spirituality
included as part of it. The idea of the spiritual can help us deepen our view
8 O Redefining Religious Education
of human happiness and flourishing. Recent studies have stressed that having
friends, family, good work, and reasonable material life conditions are essential
to living well. They have also emphasized the importance of psychological fac-
tors such as a sense of identity and a sense of purpose. Yet one might think that
even these psychological aspects of human flourishing are still superficial and
hence reserve the term “spiritual” to indicate factors that have been left out.
In other words, the idea of spirituality might help us form a more complete,
integrated, and profound view of flourishing and well-being. Of course, this
requires us to indicate what is left out of the standard psychological picture.
Third, the notion of a flourishing life can help us better understand the
idea of the spiritual. When spirituality is seen as a part of our lives, it is a more
engaging idea than when it is conceived abstractly and metaphysically. One
might argue that spirituality is valuable insofar as it partly constitutes and con-
tributes to human flourishing. This doesn’t mean that the spiritual should be
regarded only in psychological or therapeutic terms. It means that it should
be conceived as living spiritually.
While there is an ongoing multidisciplinary debate about the nature of well-
being and flourishing, we don’t need an overview of the whole field. For the
purposes of this volume, we can identify some issues relevant to spirituality in
religious education. A couple of preliminary points need to be made. There are
differences among the concepts “flourishing,” “well-being,” and “happiness.”
For this volume, we chose the former over the other two in order to emphasize
the dynamic and more objective aspects of what makes a life go well. Neverthe-
less, it seems reasonable to assume that flourishing and well-being will contain
both “subjective” and “objective” elements.
Obviously, the issue of how spirituality is relevant for flourishing depends
on how thickly or thinly we define “spirituality.” There ought to be no special
problem in showing how spirituality conceived thinly would be a constitutive
aspect of human flourishing. Having an openness of feeling, creativity, a sense
of oneself or of one’s identity that is self-loving, and a strong connection to
other people—all these aspects of a thin conception of spirituality are clearly
important features of a flourishing life.
Special problems arise mainly insofar as we define “spirituality” in richer
terms, for this requires explaining how the relevant set of phenomena con-
stitutes an aspect of flourishing. Suppose, for example, that the spiritual life
requires the worship of God. Given this, one would need to explain how such
worship is an important part of a flourishing life. Perhaps such a characteriza-
tion of spirituality is too specific; in which case, we might want to characterize
it richly but less specifically as something like transcendence, for example.
Even if they are hard to define, nevertheless, the spiritual dimensions of
flourishing might be considered as especially important. This is because they
General Introduction O 9
are supposed to be closer to the core of a person’s life. For example, if spiritual-
ity pertains to the way in which one attends to things or to the quality of one’s
consciousness or awareness, then that touches all aspects of one’s life. Likewise,
if spirituality pertains to the extent to which one is open to others, then this
influences all aspects of one’s life.
Theoretical Framework
Introduction
P
art I sets out a theoretical framework, and each chapter of this part is
dedicated to the philosophical articulation of the relationship among
spirituality, human flourishing, and religious education.
In many countries, school curricula already have a component dedicated to
religious education. This suggests that if education should include spiritual-
ity, then it might be most practical and opportune to fit it into the content of
religious education. If religions also have a spiritual content, then this sugges-
tion is also fitting and appropriate. However, schools tend to regard the aim
of religious education to be to simply impart knowledge about religions. Fur-
thermore, as we saw in the main introduction, the suggestion that religious
education should go beyond that and be directed primarily toward the spiritual
development of young people faces some serious challenges.
First, it might be claimed that this proposal is not desirable in a secular soci-
ety because religious views and practices are supposedly private and shouldn’t
be introduced into public, state-funded education. Even people who are sympa-
thetic to the idea that humans have a spiritual life might argue reasonably that,
as something personal, spirituality is best left out of the state school curriculum.
If religion is to be taught in state schools, then it should be as more neutral or
impartial, as social sciences.
Second, it might be argued that religious beliefs per se do not form part of
the commonly acknowledged body of human knowledge because they are not
acquired through reliable or scientific methods. We don’t want our students to
be subject to dogma and superstition.
Third, different religious traditions have understood spirituality in their own
terms, and in multireligious or pluralistic societies, young people should not be
exposed to a one-sided presentation of religious life. This suggests that if moral
and ethical values are to be taught in schools, then this should be part of civic
education or philosophy.
Fourth, the notion of spirituality is hopelessly vague. Furthermore, it is con-
tested. Even if it is acknowledged that the spiritual is an important dimension of
14 O Redefining Religious Education
human life, it is not an idea that is clear enough to form the basis of educational
programs in schools.
Three chapters in Part I have made an attempt to address the first three
challenges, though in quite different ways. In answer to the first challenge, in
Chapter 1, Richard Pring appeals to Dewey’s notion of a common school. The
common school doesn’t react to the public/private distinction in a general lib-
eral fashion. Typically, liberals appeal only to a minimum or procedural concep-
tion of public rationality and try to avoid disputes regarding the good life for
humans. Such substantive questions are issues that must be dealt with privately
and not in the public sphere. Through Dewey’s notion of the common school,
Pring offers an alternative to the liberal conception. We must construct an edu-
cational vision that relies on the common characteristics of being human in
ways that transcend cultural and religious differences.
In answer to the second challenge, Pring points out that education inescap-
ably involves reference to values that define what counts as educationally better
or worse. This point defeats the claim that education should be confined to the
scientifically verifiable: there are other forms of knowledge that concern mean-
ing and value, presupposed by educational practice, and that don’t fit into a
scientific paradigm.
In a similar fashion, in Chapter 2, Marius Felderhof directs his attention
primarily to the first three challenges. He also claims that a society cannot be
neutral to value questions. Even the simple act of communication involves a
commitment to truth. This places teachers in a dilemma: should they be truth-
ful about their own religious beliefs? This question addresses the issue raised
in the general introduction: can definitions of the spiritual bracket the ques-
tions of reality? Felderhof ’s answer is nuanced. On the one hand, one cannot
systematically evade the issue of whether religious claims are true, but on the
other hand, asserting one’s own particular beliefs in a pluralistic society would
be unfair. The middle path is to find a broad consensus about religious truth
and values, as was achieved in the Birmingham project, which we will describe
in a moment.
Felderhof also challenges the possibility of neutral communication about
religion because classroom exchanges require the engagement of both the stu-
dent and teacher. The ideal of neutrality comes from mistaken ideas about the
secular state. A purely secular worldview isn’t neutral, and in any case, it is
overly simplistic to think of a society as secular when the majority of people
believe in God.
Katherine Marshall raises similar questions from a different angle in Chap-
ter 3. She discusses the perceived clash between the rights paradigm for interna-
tional development with the faith paradigm for human flourishing. These two
paradigms suggest quite different approaches to education, among other things.
Part I: Introduction O 15
On the one hand, the notion of human rights motivates and shapes a view of
international development based on equality, justice, and liberty. On the other
hand, flourishing presents a view of development more focused on the substan-
tive ends that constitute a good life for the individual.
Marshall seeks to show how the two paradigms can be reconciled and why
this is important. She advocates an urgent need for a rapprochement of these
two approaches. She highlights the positive and often unnoticed role that
religious institutions do (and can) play toward providing “education for all,”
and toward the rights-based Millennium Development Goals in general. She
also highlights the religious illiteracy in many pluralistic societies today, which
results in social tensions. She draws our attention to the need for policy mak-
ers and society in general to be more sensitive to religious issues. Given these
points, education must go beyond the functional role of preparing young peo-
ple for the labor market. It must include the sensibilities that are necessary for
a flourishing society.
The next chapters set out some responses to the fourth challenge. In Chap-
ter 4, Sharif István Horthy aims to characterize the spiritual through some
descriptions of his own personal experiences. From these, he emphasizes the
importance of a spiritual attitude, which can help one integrate the worldly
ego and the otherworldly soul. This attitude consists in being attentive to the
inner and outer worlds and their felt qualities: some experiences have width and
make us feel more alive and aware of value; others make us contract and feel less
alive and more numb to value. Horthy argues that the cultivation of this atti-
tude should be the ethos of a school. It would make the school a human-centered
learning community and would involve teaching from the child’s point of view.
In Chapter 5, Garrett Thomson sketches an argument for the claim that
religious education can help young people in their spiritual development in a
way that is conducive to their flourishing. In the first step, he outlines a simple
framework for a religious life. This framework can be employed to describe the
practices of different religious traditions in a way that would help people from
outside those traditions make sense of them and in ways that would allow
young people to connect them meaningfully to their own lives. As a second
step, Thomson uses this framework to describe spirituality as a central part of a
religious life. In the third step, he characterizes the concept of flourishing and
shows the different ways in which the spiritual might be considered integral to
a flourishing life. Finally, he attempts to show how this overall framework helps
reconceptualize religious education in a more human-centered way.
Together, these five chapters in Part I establish a conceptual basis, allowing
the chapters in the other two parts of the book to explore, from diverse perspec-
tives, how religious education can help cultivate the spiritual as part of a young
person’s flourishing.
CHAPTER 1
“T
eaching to be human” is an essential aim of education. Different
religious traditions embody different, though related, narratives
of what it means to be human, hence the importance attached to
the initiation of young people into their respective narratives. But here are dif-
ficulties: the accusation of indoctrination, the prevalence of a secular culture,
and the need for a common culture to overcome the divisions within society.
This chapter tries to reconcile these different positions by seeking dignity in, yet
reciprocal learning from, difference.
Introduction
Religious beliefs and practices provide the background to many people’s lives
and permeate the culture through which they see the world, their relations to
other people, and indeed what it means to be human. They embody a moral
and spiritual dimension. Such beliefs and practices, therefore, are not peripheral
to human life.
The central focus of education, so it will be argued, is to enable the next
generation to acquire the knowledge, understandings, feelings, values, and dis-
positions that make us distinctively human. Where a spiritual tradition charac-
terizes what it means to be human, then a deepening of the understanding of
that tradition—of its practices and underpinning beliefs—would necessarily be
part of that educational experience, both informally through participation in
the practices and formally through instruction.
There are, however, three difficulties that have to be faced. The first is the
accusation of indoctrination. Can an initiation into beliefs and practices that
18 O Richard Pring
Teaching to Be Human
In a visit to a US high school some years ago, I met a school principal. The
school was very large, and inevitably there was a substantial turnover of teachers
each year. Therefore, the principal wrote the following letter to the incoming
teachers, explaining what she expected of them (published in Strom 1981):
Dear Teacher
I am the survivor of a concentration camp. My eyes saw what no man
should witness:
Gas chambers built by learned engineers.
Children poisoned by educated physicians.
Infants killed by trained nurses.
Women and children shot and burned by high school and college
graduates.
So, I am suspicious of education.
My request is: Help your students become human.
Your efforts must never produce learned monsters, skilled psycho-
paths, educated Eichmans.
Reading, writing, arithmetic are important but only if they serve to
make our children more human.
is meant. The answer will give the name of the school or college. Nothing
controversial there.
But there is a second meaning—namely, one that evaluates the learning that
takes place as somehow transforming a person for the better. In that respect, edu-
cation is like reform. To say a person has been reformed is to imply that he or she
has a changed and improved character. There is an implicit reference to standards
and values that are thought proper to being a person. Education is like that. It is
not merely descriptive of learning that takes place or of institutions where it does
take place. It is also evaluative of that learning. An educated person is one who,
as a result of learning, has acquired certain desirable qualities and capabilities. In
that sense, education in the evaluative sense is logically prior to education in the
descriptive sense. One might wish to say to a person that, despite his five years
at High School X, he was not educated there, even though he learned a lot. One
might question, too, the graduate status of some courses, despite their meeting
the college’s criteria for graduation. What is learned might lack certain ingredients
that one would expect of an educated college person—where, for example, the
so-called graduate lacks critical capacity.
Education, therefore, is in part a branch of ethics. What are the values, what
is the worthwhile form of life, one seeks to bring about through the formal sys-
tem of learning? Thus the high school principal made it clear that what makes
the learning educational is that it promotes those qualities that make us distinc-
tively human.
What, then, counts as an educated person in this day and age? There will
inevitably be different answers to that question. People, coming from different
traditions, will spell out different ways in which they perceive “being human,”
“human fulfillment,” and “human dignity.” There is a social, including reli-
gious, backdrop to our ethical appraisal of personal development. And such an
appraisal is never static, for it is part of a wider ethical debate and deliberation
between the generations and between the different social and religious tradi-
tions. Indeed, UK Chief Rabbi Dr. Jonathan Sacks speaks of “the dignity of
difference”—the value to be attributed to deep traditions through which we
separately understand humanity and from each of which we can learn:
Aims of Education
It would be contradictory to speak of someone being educated and yet
extremely ignorant. To be educated entails the development of knowledge and
understanding—what John Dewey (1916) referred to as the wherewithal for
“the intelligent management of life,” hence the importance attached to the sub-
ject matter that appears to provide the conceptual equipment for the intelligent
management of life—the knowledge through which one comes to understand
what it means to be human, what one might aspire to, and what are the physical
and social contexts in which that humanity might be achieved.
Philip Phenix (1964) referred to these as the “realms of meaning” and edu-
cation as “the means of perpetuating culture from generation to generation”
(270), thereby widening one’s view of life and counteracting the provincialism
of customary existence. Those inherited realms of meaning provide the ways in
which we have come to understand the physical, social, and moral worlds we
inhabit. These ways embody the concepts or ideas through which we organize
experience and the well-tried modes of enquiry through which we examine and
pursue our understandings of those worlds. They do, in other words, make
meaningful what otherwise would be disconnected experiences.
Therefore, how we understand the world and find it meaningful is not
imprinted on us at birth but is acquired through the participation in a cul-
ture—or indeed in different cultural achievements. Such cultural achievements
evolve through experience, reflection, critical appraisal, enquiry, research, and
social interaction. They are what the philosopher Michael Oakeshott (1962)
referred to as “the conversation between the generations of mankind,” in which,
through education, the next generation comes to understand and appreciate
the voice of poetry, the voice of religion, the voice of science, or the voice of
philosophy. These are called “voices” because each is characterized by its own
distinctive concepts and approaches to enquiry, identified and extended by
philosophical argument and analysis within the separate disciplines.
However, one might distinguish between the “theoretical and propositional
knowledge” (through which people come to understand the physical, social, and
economic worlds they inhabit) and the “practical and activity based knowledge”
Is Religious Education Possible? O 21
through which they come to understand the material world in which they live,
create, and make things work—the techne as opposed to the theoria.
One needs, of course, to be careful here, for otherwise, as in so many edu-
cational systems, the practical becomes entirely divorced from the theoretical.
There grows a division between the so-called academic and the so-called voca-
tional. And those who concentrate on the latter are deemed less worthy than
those who engage with the former. But to live a fully human life, one needs
both this practical and this theoretical knowledge, and indeed the former is
integrated with the latter. Beneath practices are, if you like, theoretical under-
standings, often implicit but open to critical exposure and examination.
One might usefully take the example of religious practices. The child who
learns to genuflect, to make the sign of the cross, and to light candles before
shrines is learning not only how to behave in particular circumstances but also
how to understand the sacredness of the place and the theological understand-
ings within the community into which he is being initiated. Learning to be
human requires both a practical and a conceptual grasp of the world in which
one is to manage life intelligently.
But there is a third kind of knowledge—one that is often only implicit but
real nonetheless. That is achieved through reflection, communication with oth-
ers, the arts, religion, and initiation into communities and their values. It puts
the other kinds of knowledge into perspective and into some sort of moral
order. It comes through narratives of various kinds—in literature, in religious
scriptures, through example and tradition. It is that moral understanding that
gives a sense of purpose and a critical exposure to values and that evaluates cer-
tain practices as worth pursuing. Aristotle called it phronesis, and it is embedded
in particular virtues—particular conceptions of the “good life.”
Therefore, what is distinctively human is this capacity to think intelligently
in the various and relevant ways through which we understand the physical,
social, and moral universe we inhabit, to be intelligently practical and creative
within it, and to shape one’s thoughts and practices by the values one has inter-
nalized. To be human is to live by values. And to educate is to introduce young
people into these different forms of knowledge, into the conversation between
the generations of mankind, for it is through such “conversations” that one
learns what it is to be human—the ideals that can be pursued, the physical
universe that can be mastered, the feelings that engage one with others, and the
emotions that can be refined.
Implicit in such learning is the importance of the wider community and
relationships. To be human is to be part of a wider social context from which
one inherits language, moral traditions, friendships, and support. No one is an
island. There are limits to autonomy. That distinctively human form of life is
22 O Richard Pring
Russell.
LIV.—THE CHURCH OF ST. GILES-IN-THE-
FIELDS.
First Church.
In a book,[647] now in the possession of the Holborn
Metropolitan Borough Council, containing a number of extracts
apparently copied from an earlier volume, is the copy of a document
dated 26th January, 1630–31, in which it is stated that Queen Maud,
about the year 1110, here built a church “pulchram satis et
magnificam,” and called it by the name of St. Giles-in-the-Fields. It is
possible that the statement is merely based on the fact of the
foundation of the hospital, including the church, at about that date.
Although there is no record of any presentation to the living
before the Hospital was suppressed in 1539, the fact that the parish
of St. Giles was in existence at least as early as 1222[648] necessitates
the assumption that the church was partially used for parochial
purposes. After the suppression of the Hospital the whole fabric
became parochial.
The earliest institution that has been found to[649] this church
is dated 20th April, 1547, and was at the presentation of Sir Wymond
Carew. On the next occasion (1571) the privilege was exercised by
Queen Elizabeth, and since that time the patronage has always been
in the hands of the Crown.
Very little information remains as to the architectural
character of the church (whether the original structure or not) at the
time of the dissolution.[650]
Besides the high altar there must have been an altar to the
patron saint, St. Giles. There is also evidence of the existence of a
chapel of St. Michael, for in the 46th year of Henry III. Robert of
Portpool bequeathed certain rents to provide for the maintenance of
a chaplain “to celebrate perpetually divine service in the chapel of St.
Michael, within the hospital church of S. Giles.”[651]
According to an order of the Vestry of 8th August, 1623, there
then existed a nave and a chancel, both with pillars, clerestory walls
over, and aisles on either side.
The Vestry minutes of 21st April, 1617, record the erection of a
steeple with a peal of bells, but from the fact that “casting the bells” is
mentioned as well as the buying of new bells, and from the reference
to it in the following year (9th September, 1618) as “the new steeple,”
it seems probable that something of the kind had existed before.
Parton[652] says that there was in early times a small round bell tower,
with a conical top, at the western end of the church, but his authority
for the statement is very doubtful.
The size of the church, measured within the walls, was 153 feet
by 65 feet.[653]
Second Church.
The church was, in the early years of the 17th century, in
danger of falling, as indeed some of it did, causing a void at the upper
end of the chancel “which was stored with Lumber, as the Boards of
Coffins and Deadmen’s Bones.” A screen was erected at the expense
of Lady Dudley “to hide it from the beholders’ eyes, which could not
but be troubled at it.”[654] A further collapse caused the parishioners
to decide to erect a new church. This was begun in 1623 and finished
in 1631. The cost of building amounted to £2,068, all of which, with
the exception of £252 borrowed, was obtained from voluntary
offerings. The largest contributor was Lady Dudley, who gave £250,
and, in addition, paid for the paving of the church and chancel. A
small sketch of the church is given by Hollar in his plan of 1658
(Plate 3), and a lithograph (here reproduced) by G. Scharf is in
Parton’s Hospital and Parish of St. Giles-in-the-Fields.
Hatton[655] gives the length as 123 feet and the breadth 57 feet.
The church and steeple appear to have been built of rubbed brick[656],
surmounted with battlements, and coped with stone.[656] A western
gallery was erected in 1671, and others to the north and south in
1676–7.
The chancel had a large east window, and one on either side.
The nave had a window over the chancel arch, and a large one at the
west end.
There were north and south aisles, which must have been of
considerable height to admit of the galleries which were
subsequently added. They appear to have been of three bays,[657] with
two windows in each. All the windows, except the westernmost one
in the north aisle, were glazed with coloured and painted glass. There
were three doors to the church, one beneath the west window and
others under the third window from the east of the north aisle and
the westernmost window of the south aisle.
No window is mentioned by Strype at the west end of the
north aisle, so that it is probable that the tower was attached to the
church in this situation. This had battlements and was provided with
a vane.
The interior was well furnished and provided with numerous
ornaments, many of which were the gift of Lady Dudley.[658] Chief
among the latter must be mentioned an elaborate screen of carved
oak placed where one had formerly stood in the old church. This, as
stated in a petition to Parliament in 1640,[659] was “in the figure of a
beautifull gate, in which is carved two large pillars, and three large
statues: on the one side is Paul, with his sword; on the other
Barnabas, with his book; and over them Peter with his keyes. They
are all set above with winged cherubims, and beneath supported by
lions.”
The church had a pair of organs with case richly gilded, and
the organ loft was painted with a representation of the Twelve
Apostles.
Very costly and handsome rails were provided to guard the
altar. This balustrade extended the full width of the chancel, and
stood 7 or 8 feet east of the screen at the top of three steps.
The altar stood close up to the east wall, with a desk raised
upon it in various degrees of advancement.
The upper end of the church was paved with marble, and six
bells were provided in the steeple.
In 1640 the reformers were very bitterly incensed against the
rector with regard to the fittings in the church, and a petition was
presented to Parliament enumerating the various articles which were
considered superstitious and idolatrous. The result of this action was
that most of the ornaments were sold in 1643, while Lady Dudley was
still alive.
After the Restoration the church was repaired and decorated,
and a striking clock and dials added to the tower.
In 1716 the church had a very valuable addition made to its
plate in the form of an engraved gold communion cup, weighing 45
ozs., which had been purchased pursuant to the will of Thomas
Woodville, a parishioner who died at sea. This valuable chalice,
together with the rest of the sacramental and other plate, was stolen
from the vestry room in 1804.
The church was obviously not well constructed, for by 1715 it
was reported to be in a ruinous condition. Under a moderate
computation it appeared that it would cost £3,000 to put it in order.
The ground outside being above the floor of the church, caused the
air to be damp and unwholesome, and proved inconvenient in other
ways. In these circumstances it was thought better to recommend a
complete reconstruction of the church.
The parishioners accordingly petitioned that the church
should be included in the 50 new churches to be built in the cities of
London and Westminster and the suburbs, and the necessary
authority for this was eventually obtained in 1718.[660] Nothing,
however, was done until 1729, when an arrangement was come to
whereby the Parish of St. Giles agreed to make provision for the
stipend of the rector of the new parish of St. George, Bloomsbury, on
condition that the Commissioners acting under the Act of Queen
Anne should pay a sum not exceeding £8,000 for the rebuilding of
St. Giles Church. The arrangement was sanctioned by an Act of
Parliament of the same year.[661] By 1731, Henry Flitcroft had
prepared plans and entered into an agreement to begin pulling down
by 31st August of that year, and to have the new church completely
finished on or before 25th December, 1733. For this work the
architect was to receive £7,030, but in fact the contract was exceeded
by over £1,000, Flitcroft’s receipt being for £8,436 19s. 6d.[662]
Third Church.
The interior dimensions of the church are as follows: length
from the west wall to the east wall of the chancel, 102 feet; length
from the west wall of the nave to the east wall of the nave, 74 feet;
depth of the chancel, 8 feet; width of the nave and aisles, 57 feet 6
inches.
The plan is a nave of five bays with side aisles (Plate 43), over
which are galleries, these being connected by a western one in the
last bay of the nave. A shallow sanctuary is placed at the eastern end,
and at the west is the steeple and a vestibule containing the
entrances and the staircases to the galleries and tower.
The general treatment of the exterior of the church (Plates 45
and 47) is plain in character, but of pleasing effect. The walling is
faced with Portland stone rusticated (chamfered at the joints) to a
projecting band marking the gallery level. Above, the walling is of
plain ashlaring with rusticated quoins. The gallery windows have
semi-circular heads with keystones, moulded architraves and plain
impost blocks. The whole is surmounted by a bold modillion cornice,
with blocking course above.
Emphasis is given to the sanctuary by a pediment and by a
large semi-circular-headed window with panels on either side
forming a decorative composition.
The western end has a similar pediment with the tower rising
above. The central entrance doorway lacks emphasis and the
importance which its position seems to require, and is almost the
same in design as those to the vestibules facing north and south,
which are relatively unimportant. On the main frieze below the
cornice is the inscription—H. Flitcroft, Architectus.
Rising immediately behind the western pediment is the
steeple of about 150 feet in height.
Flitcroft’s able design was evidently influenced by that of
Gibbs for the neighbouring church of St. Martin-in-the-Fields, but it
lacks the vigorous character of that noble structure. The banding to
the obelisk above the belfry tends to make this feature appear
somewhat overheavy in comparison with the graceful lantern
beneath. The change from square to octagon at the clock face level is
cleverly managed, and will bear comparison with the same feature at
St. Martin’s Church.
The following extract from A Critical Review of the Public
Buildings, Statues and Ornaments in and About London and
Westminster made by Ralph in 1734, is of interest, as it gives an
opinion upon the architecture of this church shortly after its
erection:—
“The new church of St. Giles’s is one of the most simple and elegant
of the modern structures: it is rais’d at very little expence, has very few
ornaments, and little beside the propriety of its parts, and the harmony of
the whole, to excite attention, and challenge applause: yet still it pleases,
and justly too; the east end is both plain and majestick, and there is nothing
in the west to object to but the smallness of the doors, and the poverty of
appearance that must necessarily follow. The steeple is light, airy and
genteel, argues a good deal of genius in the architect, and looks very well
both in comparison with the body of the church, and when ’tis consider’d as
a building by itself, in a distant prospect.”
Ralph disliked the position of the church, and would have
altered its direction, making what is the east end the main front, and
placing it in such a manner as to have ended the vista of Broad
Street.
The interior (Plate 49) is much finer than the exterior would
suggest, and is an excellent example of a well thought-out design.
Square panelled piers rising to the underside of the galleries support
Ionic columns with block entablatures, all of Portland stone (Plate
46). These carry the roof and ceiling. The ceiling of the nave is
barrel-vaulted in form, panelled and divided into bays by mouldings.
The ceilings of the aisle-galleries (Plates 44 and 51) take the form of a
species of groined vaults intersecting the barrel ceiling of the nave.
The whole is covered by a roof of one span.
The treatment of the galleries is more than usually
satisfactory, for the fronts, instead of being housed into the columns
—giving the suggestion of a necessary after addition—rest
comfortably upon the piers supporting the columns, and, if taken
away, would mar the proportion of the columns to their pedestals.
The shallow sanctuary is almost the full width of the nave. It is
ceiled with an ornamental panelled barrel vault following that of the
nave, and the eastern wall is filled by an architectural composition
harmonising with the general treatment of the nave.
On the frieze of the altar piece (Plate 51) is carved a cherub’s
head, and above is a scrolled pediment having in the centre a pelican
feeding her young in the nest.
The lower panels on either side of the altar and of the
sanctuary, are four in number, and enclosed in carved wood frames.
Two contain pictures; that of Moses to the left (Plate 52) and of
Aaron to the right of the altar.
The pulpit is of carved oak with inlay panels. The ironwork to
the choir balustrade is of wrought work, and the old iron bound chest
in the north-west vestibule is of interest.
The organ (Plate 50) is of considerable interest, and Mr.
George E. Dunn, the organist, has been good enough to supply the
following information. The instrument was built by the celebrated
Bernard Schmidt (known as Father Smith) for the second church in
1671, when he was 41 years old. He was known chiefly for the
perfection of his diapason stops—the true organ tone—and those in
this organ are among his best specimens. When the church was
rebuilt by Flitcroft he evidently did not desire to interfere with the
organ, and adopted the unusual expedient of erecting the tower of
the new church partially round the organ; consequently the back and
part of two sides are covered by the walling of the tower. Father
Smith’s original specification remained until 1856, when many of the
stops had become decayed after 180 years’ use. Dr. G. C. Verrinder,
the organist at that time, had it restored and enlarged by Messrs.
Gray and Davidson, and further repairs and alterations were made in
1884 by the same firm, under the instructions of the late Dr. W.
Little, the organist at that date. In 1889–1900 further alterations
were made by Messrs. Henry Jones and Sons, in collaboration with
the present organist. But through all the decay and changes the
organ has undergone Father Smith’s original diapasons in the front
organ remain and are still perfect. The blowing is done by hand, but
the well-balanced lever renders this comparatively easy, while,
despite the retention of the old tracker action, the instrument is quite
free from the “rattling” so often found in these old actions. In front
are carved the royal arms of George I.
All the glass to the windows, except a small panel (Plate 52) in
the west window of the south vestibule, is modern. This fragment,
which is probably from the earlier church, represents St. Giles’s tame
hind struck by the arrow.
The majority of the monuments in the church belong to the
19th century. Those of earlier date are as follows:—
On the north-east wall of the nave is a tablet of white marble,
on a black marble slab, with the following inscription:
H. S. E.
GULIELMUS WATSON EQUES
SOCIETATIS REGALIS APUD LONDINUM,
ET COLLEGII REGALIS MEDICORUM SOCIUS,
REGALI ETIAM ACADEMIÆ MADRITENSI ADSCRIPTUS,
IN UNIVERSITATIBUS HALÆ ET VIRTEMBERGIÆ
MEDICINÆ DOCTOR
HONORIS ERGO ELECTUS
VIR SUI TEMPORIS
SCIENTIÆ INDAGATOR STUDIOSISSIMUS:
ARTIS MEDICÆ ET BOTANICÆ, NECNON PHILOSOPHIÆ
NATURALIS,
PRÆCIPUE QUOD AD VIM ELECTRICAM ATTINET
INTER PRIMOS PERITUS.
OBIIT DIE MAII 10. A.D. 1787. ÆTAT. SUÆ 72.
HOC MARMOR NEC SUPERBUM,
NEC QUIDQUAM HABENS ORNATUS:
PRAETER IPSUM EJUS NOMEN,
FILIO PIENTISSIMO LEGANTE,
TESTAMENTI CURATORES
PONI JUSSERUNT.
Above, surmounted by a crest, is placed a coat of arms:
(Argent) on a chevron engrailed (Azure) between three martlets
(Sable) as many crescents (of the first).
On the wall of the north aisle is a white marble tablet to the
memory of John Barnfather, who died on 17th September, 1793, in
the 75th year of his age. A tribute is paid to his strictness and
impartiality in the execution of his duties as a justice of the peace,
and to his “mildness of Temper and benignity of mind” in private life.
The tablet is surmounted by a mourning female figure, and fixed on
an oval slab of black marble.
A little to the west along the aisle is a tablet of black marble,
with white marble cornice and base, bearing an inscription to the
memory of other members of the same family, viz., Robert
Barnfather, who died on 23rd October, 1741, aged 54, and his wife
Mary, who died on 6th December, 1754, aged 67. A long account of
the latter’s many good qualities is contributed by “their most
Affectionate Son.”
Still further westward is a tablet with the following
inscription:—
NEAR UNTO THIS PLACE LYETH THE BODY OF
ANDREW MARVELL ESQUIRE, A MAN SO ENDOWED BY
NATURE
SO IMPROVED BY EDUCATION, STUDY & TRAVELL, SO
CONSUMMATED
BY PRACTICE & EXPERIENCE: THAT JOINING THE MOST
PECULIAR GRACES
OF WIT & LEARNING WITH A SINGULAR PENETRATION &
STRENGTH OF
JUDGMENT, & EXERCISING ALL THESE IN THE WHOLE
COURSE OF HIS LIFE
WITH AN UNALTERABLE STEADINESS IN THE WAYS OF
VIRTUE, HE BECAME
THE ORNAMENT & EXAMPLE OF HIS AGE; BELOVED BY GOOD
MEN, FEAR’D
BY BAD, ADMIR’D BY ALL, THO IMITATED ALASS! BY FEW, &
SCARCE FULLY
PARALLELLED BY ANY. BUT A TOMB STONE CAN NEITHER
CONTAIN HIS CHARACTER,
NOR IS MARBLE NECESSARY TO TRANSMIT IT TO POSTERITY,
IT WILL BE ALWAYS
LEGIBLE IN HIS INIMITABLE WRITINGS. HE SERVED THE
TOWN OF KINGSTON
UPON HULL, ABOVE 20 YEARS SUCCESSIVELY IN
PARLIAMENT, & THAT WITH SUCH
WISDOM, DEXTERITY, INTEGRITY & COURAGE AS BECOMES A
TRUE PATRIOT
HE DYED THE 16. AUGUST 1678 IN THE 58TH. YEAR OF HIS AGE.
SACRED
TO THE MEMORY OF ANDREW MARVELL ESQR. AS A
STRENUOUS ASSERTER OF
THE CONSTITUTIONS, LAWS & LIBERTIES OF ENGLAND,
AND OUT OF FAMILY AFFECTION & ADMIRATION OF
THE UNCORRUPT PROBITY OF HIS LIFE & MANNERS
ROBERT NETTLETON OF LONDON MERCHANT HIS GRAND
NEPHEW
HATH CAUSED THIS SMALL MEMORIAL OF HIM
TO BE ERECTED IN THE YEAR 1764.
Further is a tablet of white marble, in the form of an
ornamental cartouche, recording the death of John Hawford and
Elizabeth his wife, and their two sons John and William. All four
deaths occurred between December, 1712, and July, 1715.
Next is a tablet to the memory of Thomas Edwards, who died
on 9th July, 1781, in the 71st year of his age. The tablet is of white
marble, surmounted by a black cinerary urn, on an oval slab of
painted marble. The inscription records his various bequests for the
use of the poor of the parish, and explains that the monument was
erected by his widow not only as a tribute of gratitude and affection,
but with a view to inciting others “whom God has blessed with
Abilities and Success” to follow his example. Her own death, on 23rd
November, 1818, is also mentioned.
Still in the north aisle, but near the entrance, is a tomb
bearing a white marble recumbent effigy of Lady Frances Kniveton,
resting on a black marble slab above a stone base. This is one of the
two memorials preserved from the second church. The inscription,
contained on a white marble tablet, reads as follows:—
In Memory of the Right Honble. Lady Frances Kniveton,
(Wife of Sr. Gilbert Kniveton,/of Bradley, in the County of Derby
Bart.) lyeth buried in the Chancel of this Church./She was one of the
5 Daughters & Co-heirs of the Rt. Honble. Sr. Robert Dudley Kt. Duke
of the/Empire; by the Lady Alice his Wife & Dutchess. which
Robert. was Son of the Rt. Honble./Robert Dudley, late Earle of
Leicester. & his Dutchess was Daughter of Sr. Tho: Leigh,/and Aunt