Where Did Public Schools Come From? Hint: Sunday School Started It.
Post 4 — Jan 4 | Battle Ground Levy Series | Post 1 | Post 2 | Post 3 |
One of the more surprising things I’ve learned while working in public education is how many Christians assume public schools are some kind of godless modern invention—something dreamed up by secular elites in a smoke-filled room, designed specifically to undermine faith and family values.
That story makes for good talk radio.
It just doesn’t happen to be true.
If you want to understand where public education actually came from, you don’t start with Washington State or the Department of Education. You start with the church. You start in church basements, with working-class kids, and with a group of Christians who believed something radical:
- Children matter.
- Education matters.
- And loving your neighbor sometimes looks like teaching them how to read.
The Sunday School Movement (Yes, That Sunday School)
In the late 1700s, England was deep in the Industrial Revolution. Children—especially poor children—worked six days a week in factories, mines, and fields. Long hours. Dangerous conditions. No education. No social mobility. No rights.
Enter Robert Raikes, an English Christian reformer who looked at this situation and said, essentially: This is not okay.
Raikes believed that if children were made in the image of God, then they deserved dignity—and part of that dignity was education. Since these kids worked all week, Sunday was the only day available.
So churches began opening their doors to teach:
- reading
- writing
- basic math
- moral instruction
- Scripture
This wasn’t about indoctrination in the modern sense. It was about literacy, formation, and opportunity.
From Puritans to Raikes to Public Schools: How Education Became A Shared Responsibility
In early America, the Puritans already had schools, but they were local, community-based, and deeply religious. Their goal was universal literacy so that every person could read Scripture for themselves. This conviction led to some of the first compulsory education laws in the Western world, such as the Massachusetts School Laws of 1642 and 1647 (the latter often called the “Old Deluder Satan Act.” Seriously.). Education was seen as both a spiritual duty and a civic necessity, but it remained limited in scope—primarily serving stable, settled communities and operating alongside church life rather than replacing it.
As industrialization reshaped society in the 1700s, that model no longer reached everyone. In England, massive numbers of children worked six days a week and had no access to education at all. This is where Robert Raikes enters the story. Raikes did not invent Christian instruction, but he reorganized it for a new social reality. What began as church-based education quickly scaled into a nationwide movement, demonstrating that broad, organized education could dramatically improve public health, social stability, and economic opportunity. By the early 1800s, reformers on both sides of the Atlantic—many of them shaped by Christian ethics—recognized that education could no longer depend solely on churches or charity.

Let that sink in: Churches were running the largest educational system in the world.
What the Puritans had begun as a moral obligation, and Raikes had expanded as a social intervention, governments gradually assumed as a public responsibility. Public schools emerged not to replace Christian concern, but to institutionalize it—ensuring that education was universal, consistent, and available to every child, regardless of family, church affiliation, or economic status. In this sense, modern public education is not a rejection of its Christian roots, but the natural outgrowth of them.
From Church-Based Education to Public Schools
As Sunday schools expanded, people began to notice something important: education worked.
Children who could read were less likely to end up in prison.
Workers who could do basic math were more employable.
Communities with educated citizens were healthier, safer, and more stable.
Over time, reformers (many of them Christians) realized that relying solely on churches wasn’t enough to educate everyone. Education needed to be:
- Universal
- Consistent
- Accessible regardless of denomination (That’s wild to think about.)
And so, gradually, governments took on the responsibility of funding and organizing what churches had pioneered.
Public schools didn’t replace Sunday schools because Christianity failed. They expanded because Christian compassion succeeded. Compassion was what changed the world. Mercy. Kindness. Walking with people in their pain.
The modern public education system is not the rejection of the Sunday School movement—it’s its descendant.
So, Why Does This Matter Now?
Because many Christians today argue against public schools as if they’re opposing something foreign to the faith.
Historically speaking, that’s like opposing hospitals because the church no longer runs all of them. (Which I know many Christians do this as well. Have you ever seen that big cross on most hospitals and emergency rooms?)
Public schools exist because Christians believed education was a moral good, a community responsibility, and a way to love neighbors who could never repay you.
That’s not secular ideology.
That’s Christian social action. Which I know freaks a lot of people out. “There you go, talking about social justice!” Sometimes, oftentimes, Biblical justice is social. Take the current cultural baggage off the term social.
Public Schools Still Serve the Same Mission
Fast-forward to today.
In Battle Ground, the vast majority of students—around 85–90%—attend public schools. These are our neighbors’ kids. Our coworkers’ kids. Kids from families who:
- Can’t afford private school
- Don’t have the flexibility to homeschool
- Rely on schools not just for education, but for stability
Supporting public schools isn’t about endorsing every policy or curriculum choice. I don’t endorse everything either. If I had the power, there are things I’d change tomorrow. I’ve never worked in any organization where I agreed with 100% of the decisions. Just ask the pastors I used to work under.
It’s about asking a deeper question:
If Christians helped create education for the common good, why would we abandon it now?
A Faith-Based Case for Supporting Schools
Scripture consistently calls God’s people to shared responsibility:
- Care for the vulnerable
- Invest in the next generation
- Seek the welfare of the city
Public schools are one of the primary ways a community does that together.
When schools are underfunded, it’s not “the system” that suffers first. It’s kids. Especially kids without options. And so much of our focus in Evangelical Christianity is on “the system.” And I get it. Yes, in a lot of way “the system” is broken. But our local school district and the students in the buildings are literally the last branch on the tree. They’re downstream from all the systems that are actually creating the issues to begin with.
So, is it perfect? No. Is our local school board perfect? No. Do I agree with all their decisions. I doubt it.
Supporting something imperfect for the sake of others is not compromise. It’s discipleship. It’s caring for the 85-90% of students who know you and look you in the eye while you’re handing out candy for halloween.
Why This Connects to the BGPS Levy
The levy isn’t about ideology. Groups, podcasts, networks, loud voices are trying to make it about that. It’s not.
It’s about whether Battle Ground continues a long tradition—rooted in Christian compassion—of educating all children, not just the ones whose families can afford alternatives. Not just the ones in our denomination. Not just the ones who go to our church.
You don’t have to agree with everything that happens in the schools to be able to say: This matters. These kids matter. This community matters.
Public education didn’t start as a rejection of faith.
It started as an expression of it.