Explainer
Creed
Virtues
3 min read

Temperance: for the lovers of life

Restraint forms the river banks that allow a human life to flow deep and true. Andrew Davison concludes his series on virtue.

Andrew works at the intersection of theology, science and philosophy. He is Canon and Regius Professor of Divinity at Christ Church, Oxford.

A bird's eye view of a river, with a lock and weir to the left and an island with two bridges to the right.
Day's Lock on the River Thames, Near Wittenham.
Lawrence Hookham on Unsplash.

At the end of this series on the cardinal virtues, presented during Lent, we come to what may seem the most Lenten of them all: to temperance, or restraint. In a certain sense temperance is Lenten. I’ve been drawing on Thomas Aquinas as we journey through the virtues, and Lent features in his discussion of temperance in a way that it doesn’t in his treatment of the others. He brings in Lenten fasting, for instance. In another sense, however, Lent cannot be said primarily to be the season of temperance, simply because Lent is supremely the season for virtue, and temperance, while a virtue, is a lesser virtue than either prudence (the capacity to make wise moral decisions) or justice (or fairness). Those are the virtues of the first rank. We need temperance, and courage, as the virtues in the second rank, only as aids in the prudent attainment of justice.

On love of life

Aquinas is a cheerful theologian, and an upbeat writer. We see that in his insistence that temperance is ultimately about love of life, not hatred of it. Indeed, temperance is about self-preservation. Indeed, that applies twice over: first, because the domain of temperance concerns things that make for life (for instance, food, drink, sleep, and sexual relations), but also, and all the more so, because temperance is about moderation in those areas precisely for the sake of self-preservation. Human nature being as it is, the very things that most make for life, and which we therefore desire strongly, can – because we desire them so much – be taken up immoderately, and then impede life. Eating again serves as an example, or the loss of the very great good of a life-long relationship because of a promiscuous moment. It is the greatest goods than need the most diligent preservation. Just as courage recognised the good of what it was prepared to lose for the sake of the doing the right thing (for, if they were not good, why would we need to show courage in losing them?), so does temperance.

Aquinas praises fasting, for instance, but exactly not because it stands against human life or the body. Rather, he praises fasting as a way to bodily and spiritual health. Indeed, he thought that the connection, especially with respect to spiritual wellbeing, was so strong and obvious that it would oblige everyone to fast sometimes, as a matter of universal common sense, even outside the strictures of any particular religious tradition.

The middle way again

His discussion of temperance is really all about moderation. We saw in the last article that virtues have the character of a ‘mean’ or middle way, such that hope lies between despair and presumption, and courage between cowardice and foolhardiness. In this way, temperance lies between harmful excess and harmful restraint. There is a vice of too much foregoing as well as one of too little.

I began by remarking that temperance, for Aquinas, is a secondary virtue, vital but needed only because of human weakness. Josef Pieper, among his most insightful twentieth century followers, offered an admirable summary. Temperance, or moderation, does not, in itself ‘realise the good’, but it remains an important part of that realisation. Pieper offers the image of a river and its banks. Without temperance

‘the stream of the innermost human will-to-be would overflow destructively beyond all bounds, it would lose its direction and never reach the sea of perfection. But it is the shore, the banks, from whose solidity the stream receives the gift of straight unhindered course, of force, descent, and velocity.’

The magnetic pole of virtue is the good. It is not defined by difficulty or hardship. Temperance, or the virtue of restraint, is not the goal of the river that is human life, but it does form the river banks that allow a human life to flow deep and true.

Article
Christmas culture
Creed
Education
3 min read

Shining bright: Religious Education can reflect the heart of Christmas

A new curriculum proposal offers hope for a subject long left in the shadows

Kathryn is the chief executive of Culham St Gabriel's, an education charity

A classroom display of Christmas baubles under a banner.
The Butterfly Teacher

The Christmas season will soon be upon us, and Christians around the world prepare to celebrate the birth of Jesus. The lives of those believers, and many of their neighbours, are filled with nativity plays, Christingle services, advent calendars and carol singing. The festival that celebrates Jesus, the baby who is born in a manger and welcomed by lowly shepherds, also heralds his later life. One in which he lifts the marginalised, brings divine justice and shines light into a dark, fragmented world.  

This shining vision of justice and light cannot be confined to nativity scenes or carol services. It shapes how Christians see the world, including education.  

In England, Religious Education (RE) is in urgent need of reform. The recent Curriculum and Assessment Review (CAR) recommendation that the subject goes into a new national curriculum through a staged process, offers a rare opportunity to restore RE to its rightful place for the benefit of every child. This will finally shine a light on this often-neglected subject. 

Where darkness falls 

Today, many pupils experience RE as fragmented, inconsistent, and undervalued. Some receive profound, in-depth teaching — getting more than a glimpse of the vision. Others receive none. Some encounter diverse religious and non-religious worldviews; others are taught narrow or outdated content. This disparity is not just an educational failure; it is a moral one. 

At Christmas, Christians remember that Jesus came not for the powerful, but for the poor, the outsider, and the forgotten. Following Him means ensuring that every child — regardless of background or postcode — has access to high quality RE that reflects the complexity and richness of religion and belief in our global world. 

Four dark shadows 

There are four key areas of inequity: 

  • Position: RE is often marginalised in schools as it is not in the national curriculum. 

  • Provision: time and resources vary dramatically. 

  • Standards: there is no consistent national benchmark. 

  • Content: pupils struggle to see themselves and others reflected in the curriculum. 

These issues disproportionately affect the most vulnerable - those in underfunded schools or transient communities. Christians are called to stand up for those who are overlooked. The Christmas story itself is a call to justice. Mary’s Song speaks of Jesus lifting the humble, whilst Zechariah’s prophecy highlights Jesus shining light on those in darkness and guiding people to a path of peace. Social justice is at the heart of the gospel message. 

Lighting a way forward 

The CAR recommendation that RE should be included in a new National Curriculum is a light amidst the darkness; it views the subject through a social justice lens. The proposed approach to establish consensus within the religious education community lights up a path for the subject going forward. Building on the National Content Standard for RE in England (2023) it offers a framework rooted in fairness, coherence, and depth. It would ensure: 

  • Parity of position: RE is valued alongside other subjects. 

  • Equity of provision: all pupils receive meaningful religious education 

  • Consistency of standards: expectations are clear and fair across all schools. 

  • Richness of content: pupils explore diverse, lived experiences of religious and non-religious worldviews. 

This is not just about curriculum design. It is about enabling young people: to become free thinking; to become critical participants of public discourse in unsettled times; to make academically informed, compassionate and respectful judgements about matters of religion and belief. It is about nurturing wisdom, encouraging young people to flourish, and bringing light to dark places. 

Shining in the darkness 

Christmas is a season of hope and light. It is also about challenge. It is a reminder that God intervenes to restore and renew, and Christians are called to do the same. The recent recommendation to government is, I believe, a once is a life-time opportunity for everyone to come together for the common good; to shape an RE curriculum for all where every child is seen, heard, and valued. 

As we sing of peace on earth and goodwill to all, let us work to ensure that our education system upholds justice and serves everyone, whether we are a Christian or not. This Christmas, may we commit ourselves to a vision of education that reflects the heart of God: one of equity, dignity, and love. Surely it is time for the RE light to shine in every classroom across our country. 

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