So Texas has decided that the best way to educate its youth is to mandate Bible stories in classrooms. One might call this a return to tradition, but I call it a surrender to intellectual decadence. Compare this to Westminster, which reaffirms its secular standards with a quiet, almost bored confidence. The contrast is stark: one state dives headlong into theocratic fantasy, the other holds the line for reason.
Let us be clear. The Bible is a profound work of literature, history, and theology. But so is Plato's Republic, so is Gibbon's Decline and Fall, so is Marx's Capital. To elevate one text above all others in state-sponsored education is not piety; it is intellectual cowardice. It is the educational equivalent of building a wall against the messy, glorious chaos of the modern world.
Texas governor Greg Abbott proudly declares that this mandate will 'restore America's moral foundation.' But whose morality? Whose interpretation? The history of Christianity is a bloody tapestry of schism and violence, from the Crusades to the Inquisition to the endless squabbles between Calvinists and Lutherans. To hand this to children as a univocal moral guide is to ignore centuries of conflict and nuance.
Meanwhile, Westminster's secularism is not a rejection of religion but a recognition that the state's role is to provide a neutral ground for all beliefs. This is the great achievement of the Enlightenment: the separation of church and state. It allows the religious to practice freely without imposing their dogma on others. It allows the secular to question without fear of heresy. This is the foundation of modern democracy.
But Texas, in its rush to 'restore' something that never truly existed, forgets this. They long for a golden age that was always more imagined than real. The Victorian era, which they so admire, was rife with hypocrisy: public piety and private vice, Empire and exploitation. Is that the moral foundation they wish to restore?
This mandate is not about education. It is about power. It is about a political faction using the state to enforce its particular worldview. And it is a sign of a deeper rot: a society that has lost faith in its own ability to reason, to debate, to tolerate difference. Instead, we retreat into the comforting fables of our childhood.
We have seen this before. The Fall of Rome was preceded by a retreat into superstition and a rejection of rational governance. The late Empire was a hotbed of new cults, mystery religions, and a longing for a simpler, purer past. Sound familiar?
Make no mistake: Westminster's secularism is not perfect. It can be cold, bureaucratic, and dismissive of spiritual needs. But it is honest. It does not pretend that we have all the answers. It leaves room for doubt, for growth, for change. Texas's mandate is a declaration of certainty in an uncertain world. And certainty, as history teaches us, is the first step toward tyranny.
So what should we do? We must teach the Bible, yes, but alongside the Qur'an, the Vedas, the secular humanist manifesto, and every other attempt to understand our place in the universe. We must teach children to think, not to believe. We must nurture their curiosity, not their obedience.
Or we can follow Texas into the abyss. The choice is ours, but the clock is ticking.
