Christian school system. Now, though, foreigners train
teachers and provide resources, but at most schools, local
Chinese Christians do the heavy lifting. Foreign Christian
high schools and colleges play a part by providing further
education for Chinese students after they graduate.
Liu’s interest in Christian education began as he thought
about teaching his firstborn son about Christ. He origi-
nally planned to start his own school, but his background
in marketing thrust him into the role of organizing the first
national Christian education conference in 2006. Only 30
people attended then, but now hundreds do. By connecting
pastors and educators of different denominations, groups
are creating indigenous curricula and educational standards.
Other schools are blends. Jerry Wolfe, a lanky American
with a goatee, started a bilingual school that differs from
others in that foreign and local students learn together.
That’s a sensitive issue in the authorities’ eyes, but parents
hope children will learn both Chinese and Western ways
and blend the best. In four years, the school has grown from
13 to 122 students meeting at two locations, with students
from six different continents.
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The school melds a classical Christian curriculum
with local curriculum in areas such as math and Chinese
language. Over lunch, Wolfe’s elementary-age daughters
excitedly sang about Africa’s geography and recited chapter
two of Luke’s Gospel in Chinese. Wolfe wants every part of
the school to meet government qualifications, even if it never
gets the green light, so the school’s two buildings meet all
the space requirements to open a school, and school leaders
have all necessary degrees: “If we’re successful, it wouldn’t be
measured by the current group of students but by the school
as an institution. Is it still a blessing to the city 50 years from
now? And are the kids who’ve come out of it really living a
life that glorifies God?”
Liu, who says “public school is used by the devil to lead
kids to hell,” also thinks long-term. Already parents are
seeing second-generation Christians leaving the church as
academics and the cares of the world stifle their faith. Liu’s
primary goal is to do all he can so the passion and growth of
Christianity in China doesn’t end in one generation.
ANYONE WHO HAS STARTED a Christian school
in America knows it’s tough: square and cube that diffi-
culty to get a sense of what Chinese parents face. They
often lack business sense, struggle to find teachers who are
academically and spiritually qualified, and have difficulties
contextualizing U.S. Christian curricula. Two of the schools
mentioned above struggle with financial pressures that could
lead to their closure in the next few years, which would force
parents to homeschool, find other Christian schools, or—if
finances allow—send children overseas.
Those two schools are not unusual. At a recent training
session for 15 principals in northern China, a finance
teacher asked them to create five-year budgets for their
schools: the result was a sea of red. Seated in neat rows in
a largely bare-walled classroom located above a deserted
strip mall, the principals hailed from all over China, yet
pinpointed similar needs: more teacher training and help
to keep up with rapid growth.
Often when word gets out about a new Christian school,
parents rush to secure a spot for their children—so small,
inexperienced schools have the pleasure but also distress to
see enrollment doubling every year.
Schools started by house churches get financial support
from Sunday offering baskets, but those started by parents
mainly depend on tuition, which typically ranges from
$2,500 to $5,500. This means the schools typically cater to