Over the past decade, the language we use to describe the life of Church schools has shifted significantly. Where once the focus was on evidencing a school’s ‘Christian distinctiveness’1, the conversation has moved toward ‘spiritual development’. Although good practice has always sought to include all pupils, this shift in language has strengthened the emphasis on ensuring that every child (whatever their background or belief) can participate fully, reflect deeply, and feel a genuine sense of belonging. This is good.
Classrooms today are richly diverse. Any approach that does not honour that diversity risks being both pastorally insensitive and educationally ineffective. The language of spiritual development has helped schools articulate something vital: that education is not simply about knowledge and attainment, but about identity, belonging, meaning and purpose - the formation of the whole person.
And yet, as with many well-intentioned shifts, there have also been unintended consequences.
When openness becomes thin
A difficulty with the contemporary emphasis on ‘spiritual development’ is that its strength (its openness) can also become a weakness if not carefully grounded. In seeking to create space for all pupils, many schools have adopted widely used spirituality frameworks such as “windows, mirrors and doors”, the language of “ow, now, wow”, or relational models that move from “self” to “others” to “the world” and “beyond/God”. These approaches can be helpful in giving a shared vocabulary and in encouraging reflection, attentiveness and personal response.
But because such frameworks are deliberately non-prescriptive, they tend to foreground process over content by inviting pupils to notice, to reflect, and to respond, but not necessarily to have this opportunity shaped by an encounter with a coherent theological perspective or tradition. In practice, spirituality can therefore drift toward a set of experiences or dispositions e.g. moments of stillness, awe, empathy or questioning, without a clear sense of the deeper narratives that might give these coherence. The language remains rich in invitation, but relatively thin in definition. Over time, this can create an implicit assumption that all spiritual perspectives are equally provisional, and that depth lies primarily in openness rather than in grappling with theological ideas about reality, meaning and purpose.
The consequence is not the absence of spirituality, but a subtle shift in its character. Within such a culture, the unique narrative of Christianity, with its account of God, creation, fall, exile, redemption and restoration, can begin to recede into the background, not through opposition but through diffidence. It is then unsurprising if confidence in clearly articulating the Christian faith begins to erode: clarity can feel out of step with an ethos that has trained pupils, and often staff, to hold all claims lightly. What begins as a generous inclusivity can, if not carefully rooted, result in a spirituality that gestures toward depth while quietly detaching itself from the very sources that might sustain it.
In seeking to create inclusive space, perhaps we can inadvertently create empty space.
This brings us back to the long-standing question:
What does it mean for a Church school to be distinctively Christian, while also being genuinely open and inclusive?
The gift and the challenge of the Christian story
For Church schools, and the churches working alongside them, the Christian tradition is not simply one perspective among many, but the foundation that gives coherence to the life of a Church school. This need not diminish the value of other traditions represented within the school community, nor the importance of critical reflection and dialogue. Indeed, Christianity is rooted in the belief that God created all people equal. The Christian worldview calls us all to love, welcome and accept everyone else regardless of background or belief for we are all made in the image of God and thus of equal value.
Christianity is a living story, rooted in the life, teaching, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, which offers a rich and coherent account of what it means to be human. It speaks of dignity and brokenness, of forgiveness and hope, of justice, sacrifice, redemption and love. It makes sense of suffering, offers practices for spiritual growth, and a vision of community that is both demanding and life-giving.
If spiritual development is about helping children engage with questions of identity, belonging, meaning and purpose, then the Christian story has an immense contribution to make.
So how can it be offered well?
Deeply Christian, Serving the Common Good (2016) set out a beautiful vision of what offering it well might mean. It led in turn to the 2018 SIAMS update that elevated the need for school vision statements to be theologically underpinned (which was further reinforced in the 2023 update). Around the country, I have seen the fruit of this: Christianity understood more deeply and presented well, in ways that are clear, invitational and holistic.
Where we sometimes miss the mark
But I have also seen it many times presented partially or unhelpfully. Sometimes this is because its presentation leans to:
- Over‑simplification
- In an attempt to be accessible, Christian content is sometimes reduced to a set of general themes like ‘be kind’ or ‘be thankful’. While these are important, they are not uniquely Christian and lack the narrative and theological depth that gives them meaning. The result is a dilution of the faith: something recognisable, but no longer richly or distinctively Christian.
- Moralism
- Christianity is presented primarily as a call to behave well or improve oneself e.g. by managing impatience or being more generous. In doing so, it subtly shifts from a story of grace (rooted in what God has done for us) to an implicit message of self-achievement (what we must do). This is not simply a reduction but a distortion: the heart of the faith is replaced with something else.
- Fragmentation
- Christian ideas are encountered in disconnected pieces (stories, values, festivals, reflection moments) but without being drawn together into a coherent whole. Pupils may become familiar with elements of Christianity, but without understanding how they fit into a wider account of God, creation, fall, exile, redemption and restoration. The result is familiarity without depth.
- Relativisation
- In seeking to be respectful and inclusive, Christianity is presented as one perspective among many, without fully engaging with Jesus’ claims to truth and authority. While well-intentioned, this can flatten its distinctiveness and leave pupils with the impression that all spiritual viewpoints are equally tentative and interchangeable.
- Experimentalism
- Engagement with Christianity is framed primarily in terms of experience, centring on reflection, stillness, or ‘awe and wonder’, rather than a sustained encounter with its beliefs and practices.
- Over‑assertiveness
- Christianity is communicated in ways that feel directive, closed or insensitive to pupils’ own backgrounds and beliefs. This can undermine the SIAMS requirement that pupils are able to be “present with integrity”.
Offered well
At its best, Christianity offered well follows the example of Jesus.
Jesus frequently told stories and asked questions, creating space for people to engage, reflect and respond. At the same time, he also offered direct and challenging teaching, setting out a clear vision of God, humanity and the world.
What is striking is that these were not in tension. His teaching was both distinctive and invitational: clear in content, yet leaving space for response. He did not compel agreement or close down interpretation, but trusted his hearers to wrestle with what they had encountered.
And in the four gospels we see a huge breadth to those responses: immediate worship, journeying further to learn more, curiosity, questioning, confusion, disappointment and hostility.
For schools and churches today, this offers an important model: not simply creating open space that feels too vague or over-simplified, nor simply delivering clear content in ways that might be inappropriately over-assertive. Rather, they can follow Jesus’ example: clear, distinctive teaching with genuine space for response. Jesus’ model is examined in more depth in my next blog.
Presenting Christianity clearly is not about securing agreement, but about enabling meaningful engagement. Pupils can only respond with integrity, whether in agreement, disagreement or ongoing exploration, if what is offered to them is sufficiently clear and coherent.
The role of school–church partnerships
This is where strong partnerships between schools and local churches are so valuable.
These partnerships work best where each partner brings its distinctive strengths. Schools bring educational wisdom, an understanding of the contexts of each member of the community, and a deep awareness of equality, diversity and inclusion. Churches bring theological depth, lived faith and a long tradition of helping people make sense of life through the story of Jesus. Together, they can create an approach to spiritual development that is both rooted and open, both thoughtful and authentic and where all members of the community have opportunity to belong and be ‘present with integrity’.
An invitation
As the conversation around spiritual development continues to evolve, there is an opportunity here - not a problem to solve, but a depth to recover.
Inclusion need not mean dilution. It may be that the most generous thing we can offer children is not spirituality in general terms alone, but a clear and meaningful encounter with Jesus and his teaching, presented in ways that honour their freedom and questions. Indeed, this is what Deeply Christian, Serving the Common Good presented so thoughtfully. This is a conversation that schools and churches are increasingly seeking to explore together. Spaces such as CPAS’s upcoming Building a Shared Theology for Spiritual Development or Pathways Course offer an opportunity to think this through theologically and practically with others who are exploring the same questions.
The task is not to choose between openness and distinctiveness, but to hold them together well. In doing so we can offer something richer, deeper and more meaningful than either openness or distinctiveness could provide alone.