For one thing, the very notion of a standout athlete seems paradoxical here, since a central Quaker principle is the belief that no individual matters more than the community. The school’s ethos discourages self-aggrandizement or drawing attention to oneself, and Ryan remains one of the most low-key superstars in the league. Penn Charter athletes learn to celebrate team victories rather than personal accomplishments. A football player scoring a touchdown has been instructed to find a referee and simply hand him the football. No touchdown dances.

When I visited here last week and asked where or how Penn Charter had recognized Ryan’s athletic achievements — perhaps with a big trophy case containing a retired jersey, all-American award plaques and his four N.F.L. Pro Bowl citations — school officials chuckled.

“We don’t do that at Penn Charter,” said Ryan’s high school football coach, Brian McCloskey.

There were doubts that anyone had even thought to save Ryan’s jersey.

“The notion of a shrine to someone is just not who we are,” said Darryl J. Ford, head of school.

Yet athletics remain fundamental and indispensable to education at Penn Charter, where every student is required to play at least one sport per year.