A Christian Approach to Chinese Classical Education

The Master said: “…In the Dao of the junzi there are four duties, not one of which I am yet able to perform: To serve my father, as I would require my son to serve me—this I am not yet able to do; to serve my prince as I would require my minister to serve me—this I am not yet able to do; to serve my elder brother as I would require my younger brother to serve me—this I am not yet able to do; to set the example in behaving to a friend, as I would require him to behave to me—this I am not yet able to do.”7

The Chinese classical tradition is rich, but it is lame. It can teach us many things—not just about morality but about politics, philosophy, mathematics, and art—but apart from Christ, these arts are like legs that we cannot use. The tradition is remarkable, but it is maimed by sin. When Christ confronts it, however, everything changes. He looks down upon this ancient tradition long paralyzed by sin and with divine authority says, “Stand up! Pick up your mat and walk.”

In Christ, all that the wise men of old longed for is fulfilled. All of their frayed philosophies are mended. The ancients could intuit much truth about God and His creation. “He did not leave himself without witness” ( Acts 14:17). They could hear the song that He was composing, but they could only hear the rhythm. When we read their writings, we can sense the steady pulse of divine order and meaning echoing through the cosmos, but only in the crucified and risen Christ do we hear the melody.

7 “ 子曰： 君子之道四，丘未能一焉：所求乎子以事父，未能也； 所求乎臣以事君，未能也；所求乎弟以事兄，未能也；所求乎朋友先施之， 未能也。 ” Zhongyong 中庸 [Doctrine of the Mean] in Liji 礼记 [Record of Rites] 52.13.1431, trans. James Legge. I have slightly edited Legge’s translation, replacing “not attained” with “not able,” which better reflects the original text.

As Christians, we cannot be content merely recovering the Chinese classical Christian tradition, for we do not want our students simply tapping their feet to the rhythm of the divine song—we want them to sing. We want them to know the entirety of the gospel song, and this can only happen if the risen Christ is at the heart of our curriculum. At the same time, we cannot dismiss the Chinese classical tradition, for it is the rhythm over which the melody is played. It is part of the song. We cannot understand the gospel of Christ without understanding the world He came to redeem. The history of China’s redemption does not begin with Tang-dynasty missionaries, for God began composing this song long before any missionary stepped foot in China. He created this land. He created these people. He created this culture. He has been among the Chinese people ever since there have been Chinese people. He revealed himself first through the philosophers and the poets and the historians. “They knew God,” says the Scriptures (Rom. 1:21). His law was “written on their hearts” (Rom. 2:15). They knew they had an obligation to honor Him, but they also knew they had not done so. The beating of God’s law in their hearts was not to them the beating of a drum but the pounding of nails into a coffin. No matter how hard they tried, they could not live up to the impossible standards of ren . To them, life was little more than the incessant drilling of moral law, but when the fullness of time had come, Heaven sang the melody. Law turned into gospel; rhythm turned into song. And this time, it did not come through the mouths of the poets and philosophers, but through the prophets and evangelists. This is the same story the Apostle Paul tells the Athenians: