I thought that I belonged here. It was a December basketball game, and my husband and I were visiting our alma mater. We had both graduated high school from the same place: a predominantly white, Dutch-reformed, Christian school. We were high school sweethearts, the Homecoming king and queen, recipients of similar high school accolades. It was both awkward and sweet to return to the campus three years after our high school graduation—I was excited to be back.
A woman at the game was recounting my husband’s escapades during our time in high school. She eagerly reviewed how accomplished he was during our tenure and how fun it must be for him to be back. She reviewed the different clubs we both were a part of and even mentioned his being homecoming king. After several minutes, she turned to me, a person obviously not of Dutch descent, and asked, “And where did you go to high school?”
In that brief moment, my sense of belonging shifted. I no longer felt I belonged in a place I long thought I did.
In a world marked by polarization and contested understandings of truth, Christian schools stand at a critical juncture. We are called to something deeper than protection or retreat. Instead, Christian schools are invited into a courageous vision: to be communities of hospitality rooted in Christ, where students learn to engage the world with both conviction and compassion, places where everyone shares the view that one another belongs.
What might it look like if Christian schools were known not for exclusion and division, but as pockets of the kingdom of God, modeling love, unity, and shalom in a broken world?
A vision for 2035
Here is a vision worth aspiring to: In ten years, Christian schools will be courageous communities of hospitality, rooted in Christ and forming students to engage the world with conviction, compassion, and hope. As pockets of the Kingdom, they will bear witness to and participate in God’s ongoing restoration by modeling love, unity, and shalom in all spaces.
This vision begins and ends at the cross. At the cross, we pursue God’s truth above every political, cultural, or ideological agenda. At the cross, we find our identity—not in race, class, achievement, or affiliation, but in Christ alone. Starting from the same place and moving toward the same hope, our schools become countercultural communities shaped by the Kingdom of God.
Hospitality is not optional in this vision; it is essential. We cannot demonstrate God’s love and unity without it. When Christian communities lack love and unity, the impact is not neutral: indifference actively damages the witness of the gospel. Simply put, Christian schools must not be known for building walls but instead for setting tables.
At the same time, this vision for courageous hospitality is marked by humility and hope. We acknowledge sin, brokenness, and the reality that the Kingdom will not be fully realized until Christ returns. We are imperfect people tasked with putting God on display, believing that God invites us to be co-laborers with Him. We cannot do this work without God, and God chooses not to do it without us. Our hope for the Kingdom here on earth must shape how Christian schools teach, lead, and form students.
Our current reality
First, the good: God is already at work. Even amid brokenness, there are daily moments in schools where God’s Spirit is clearly at work and courageous hospitality flourishes. Just ask any teacher where they’ve seen God lately. The Kingdom of God does not wait for perfect conditions; in spite of our brokenness, God is at work.
Simply put, Christian schools must not be known for building walls but instead for setting tables.
Now, the opportunity: At their worst, Christian schools can undermine the very gospel they seek to proclaim. Some schools—intentionally or unintentionally—lean into protective mindsets, often rooted in good intentions, mindsets that can make genuine hospitality nearly impossible.
There are real gaps to confront when it comes to this vision of hospitality. One is a misalignment between a school’s stated mission and its lived reality. Another is a disconnect between why schools believe they exist and why parents choose them. Competing values, such as prioritizing academic ability over hospitality, or comfort over formation, often go unnamed but deeply shape school culture.
Belonging remains a significant challenge. In the 2023 Cardus Education Survey, graduates of Protestant Schools reported the lowest levels of belonging across all sectors (Swaner et al., 2024). Whereas there are multiple factors at play, we note that some Christian schools have rich histories and strong legacy families, elements that can unintentionally create in-groups difficult to penetrate. Homogeneity is a reinforcing cycle: students and families outside the dominant culture may find it difficult to fit in and therefore not enroll in (or withdraw from) the school, resulting in continued lack of diversity.
Exemplars in action
St. Augustine Prep demonstrates that Christian schools can be both convictional and hospitable. As a participant in Milwaukee’s voucher program, the school provides open access to students who apply and are selected through a lottery system, welcoming families from a wide range of backgrounds. The school is clear about its Christian mission, and its activities and culture are unapologetically shaped by its faith conviction. Yet students are received with dignity and care; they are not projects to be fixed, but young people to be known and loved. St. Augustine Prep reflects God’s kingdom by serving its community well through its commitment to quality education in a deeply hospitable culture.
Pathway forward
The work ahead requires clarity, courage, and patience. If you agree with this vision, the first step is alignment. Conduct a self-assessment. Does your mission statement reflect this call to courageous hospitality? Do you understand the community you serve? Have you listened carefully to staff and community perspectives? Work to name your starting point honestly.
If your school’s mission does not direct your work toward being a place of courageous hospitality, know and acknowledge that this work will be costly in time, emotion, and courage. Engage in deeper self-study, board-level conversations, and focus groups with stakeholders. Find others who share the vision and begin developing common language and shared definitions. Necessary endings are likely to be a hard reality of this process. As needed, create off-ramps for staff or families unwilling to move in this direction.
If your mission does direct your school toward being a place of courageous hospitality, the work is still demanding. Determine who will steward the vision and who needs to be empowered. Invest in shared learning around Kingdom unity—read and reflect together. Define what courageous hospitality looks like on your campus. Develop shared language around safety, bravery, and hospitality.
Cultivating a culture of hospitality must impact every aspect of school life. Admissions should clearly communicate the vision and expectations. Classrooms should include learning and experiences rooted in conviction and compassion, creating spaces that are both safe and brave. Specifically, teachers must model clarity about convictions while promoting curiosity and respect as they provide learning opportunities that reinforce the call to courageous engagement with the real world.
Stepping into this work is how schools become places that are truly safe and brave.
Metrics of success
This courage doesn’t stop with implementation. Schools must assess and celebrate what they value; therefore, it is essential to evaluate if we are becoming places of courageous hospitality. While the most important things to measure are sometimes the hardest, schools can do this by asking important questions.
Does demographic data reflect broader belonging? What are the participation rates in programs that serve real community needs? Can we provide examples of graduates walking the walk?
Equally important is how schools respond in moments of tension or crisis. Do leaders lean into discomfort with clarity and grace? Are values lived out in the hardest moments?
Finally, schools must listen to those they are seeking to welcome. Ask them directly: Do you feel that you belong here? What barriers remain?
Christian schools (really anyone who bears the name of Christ) have a responsibility to embody the Gospel. By becoming communities of courageous hospitality, rooted at the cross, we can play a role in the formation of students who do not retreat from the world but step boldly into the world as witnesses to Christ’s transforming love.
