For The Love of God

We are called to support public schools in every way we can

I read an article years ago in the Christian Science Monitor that said it is our duty as Christians to send our children to public schools. I can't remember the thrust of the argument, but it was something like, "We are called to be present and supportive in the lives of all God's children, especially in the shared spaces where diverse people come together."

It was an interesting point that wouldn't survive today's theo-political debates. Today's call is for us to keep our kids away from those who might negatively influence them, as though faith were fragile and could shatter on contact with difference.

For over a decade, I've visited public, private, magnet, Afrocentric schools, you name it. Partly, I've been searching for the idyllic experience I missed out on as a child. Mostly, though, it's been about informing my advocacy for better education. Walking into a public school, I see more than desks, chalkboards, and children loudly dancing through hallways. I see our shared humanity in its most innocent form. I also see our collective responsibility to nurture, educate, and empower the next generation.

If Christianity were a verb, public education would be one of the most profound ways to live out our faith—not through evangelism or exclusion, but by serving and supporting one of our most vital institutions. Yet, the relationship between Christians and public education is broken. Perhaps there is a hole in our gospel. Maybe too many of us look at public schools with suspicion, seeing them as secular domains where faith is unwelcome. Others disengage altogether, retreating into private religious schools or homeschooling, leaving public education to fend for itself.

This retreat, though often driven by legitimate concerns for their own children, risks abandoning millions of others—especially the most vulnerable—to underfunded, undervalued, and unsupported schools with diminished learning opportunities. The words "whatever you do for the least of these, you do for me" should ring in our ears, disturb our conscience, and subdue our bigotry.

I've been engaged in education policy for over 20 years. This work has always been personal—rooted in my experiences as a former student and now as a parent. Yet, beneath those motivations, something has always been deeper: a foundation of faith that calls me to defend children. I've come to think of this as a pursuit of "child justice." Children can't vote. They are too often shortchanged by policies and neglected by a society so corrupt in its priorities that we even argue about whether or not we should feed hungry kids in schools.

For years, I found myself compartmentalizing my faith and my advocacy. Most education policy spaces are explicitly secular and don't lend themselves to theological questions about our obligations to youth. The unspoken rule is to leave your faith at the door, focusing instead on data, policy frameworks, and political pragmatism. I played by those rules, but it often felt like hiding my light under a bushel—a pulling of my best, loving punches. Over time, I grew tired of this double agency, of being both an education advocate and a follower of Christ but never fully integrating the two.

After a lot of reflection over a rough intellectual year, it's more apparent to me now that public schools are not merely a civic responsibility but a sacred trust. They are lifelines for families, providing education, meals, safety, and a sense of belonging. Public schools present an opportunity to step in—not with judgment or proselytizing but with service and advocacy. They are on the front lines of society's deepest struggles, spaces where we, as Christians, can demonstrate love for our neighbors and live out the biblical command to seek the city's welfare (Jeremiah 29:7).

Some of the most impactful ways we can support public education are surprisingly simple: volunteering as tutors or mentors, donating supplies that teachers often buy with their own money, being present at events and letting people know they are not alone, convincing our pastors and churches to partner with local public schools, and creating ongoing, supportive relationships between the two institutions.

This is not to suggest that Christians abandon their convictions or values. On the contrary, our faith should compel us to engage in ways that build bridges rather than walls. Supporting public schools does not mean compromising our beliefs but living them out. It means recognizing that every child—regardless of race, religion, or socioeconomic status—is created in the image of God and deserves the opportunity to flourish.

During his ministry, Jesus consistently focused on "the least of these" (Matthew 25:40). He cared for the marginalized, the overlooked, and the vulnerable. I encourage us to see those same populations sitting in public school classrooms. They are the children of single mothers working multiple jobs, the kids navigating homelessness, and the students facing systemic barriers that make learning an uphill battle. Supporting public education is one of the most tangible ways to embody Christ's love and compassion.

There is a temptation, especially in times of division, to retreat into our corners—to prioritize what feels safe and familiar. But Christians are called to a higher standard. Public schools are not just a societal good but a sacred responsibility. They represent our best chance to create a more just and equitable future where every child can thrive.