3.1. Reconstructing Theological Paradigms: Direct Christology
In this section, we will discuss the origins of Richard Wilhelm’s idea of “cultural approach to evangelism”: Richard Wilhelm’s reforms in missionary methodology were deeply rooted in the religious socialist thought of his spiritual mentor, Christoph Blumhardt, and in particular in his “direct Christology”. Blumhardt’s belief that salvation was not mediated by the church, and that pagans could be saved, turned tradition on its head and shaped Wilhelm’s ecumenical religious outlook. Burkhardt supported his joining the AEPM, which advocated a non-dogmatic Christian ethic, and sent him to China as a missionary. In China, Wilhelm taught the Chinese classics in conjunction with religious content without mandatory baptism, supported the Chinese in starting their own churches, and hoped for complete indigenization in the future. His missionary approach broke with German tradition and religious antagonisms, opening up a new space for Christianity to dialog with local Chinese culture.
Originally a Protestant pastor, Blumhardt assumed leadership of the sanatorium of Bad Boll after his father’s death, where he dedicated himself to the spiritual care of its residents. He firmly believed in the imminent realization of the salvation promised in the Bible, which he saw as the guiding direction of human progress. He was also convinced that Jesus Christ was, above all, the savior of the poor, thereby emphasizing and fully embodying the universal and inclusive nature of God’s love. Blumhardt saw himself not only as a disciple and successor of Jesus but also developed a revolutionary theological framework that asserted that “every individual is entrusted by God”. In his view, one did not need to rely on the church to be recognized as a Christian. Since God’s love was all-encompassing and had already been bestowed upon all humanity: “even non-Christians could enter the kingdom of God without conversion”. He proclaimed that this belief constituted “the first step toward spreading Christ’s spirit worldwide” (
Rennstich 1988, p. 217). This doctrine, known as direct Christology (Direkte Christuslehre), fundamentally challenged the dominant theological paradigms of the time and played a crucial role in shaping Wilhelm’s later development of religious universalism that embraced both Eastern and Western spiritual traditions.
In 1897, Wilhelm arrived in Bad Boll as a vicar’s assistant and soon regarded Blumhardt as his spiritual mentor. He later proposed to Blumhardt’s daughter, Salome. Initially, Blumhardt declined Wilhelm’s proposal; however, upon learning that Wilhelm had joined the AEPM and was preparing for a missionary journey to China, he changed his mind. The engagement ceremony was arranged hastily on the eve of Wilhelm’s departure, as Blumhardt recognized Wilhelm as a potential representative to propagate his theological ideas in China. Blumhardt wrote to Wilhelm, as Salome documented, “In my view, a young man like you should gladly embrace the opportunity to bear witness to God, allowing your testimony to be publicly heard. If the kingdom of God is within you, it will inevitably bear fruit. The more diverse experiences you gain in the world, the greater the seeds of the Kingdom will grow and flourish…” (
S. Wilhelm 1956, p. 72).
Notably, although Blumhardt was highly critical of traditional churches, he actively encouraged Wilhelm’s engagement with the AEPM. Unlike conventional missionary organizations, the AEPM, also known as the Ostasienmission (East Asia Mission), was a mission society founded in 1884 in Weimar by German and Swiss churches, which advocated for the dissemination of a “non-dogmatic Christian ethic” (
Bitterli 1976, p. 339) in ancient Eastern civilizations from its inception. Moreover, it emphasized active engagement in education and healthcare, representing an emerging progressive force within the German church that sought to challenge the rigid, inward-looking stance dominating Christianity for centuries. Its charter explicitly stated, “The aim is to integrate Christianity and its spiritual culture with existing elements of truth and spread them among non-Christians” (ibid., p. 340). This principle strongly aligned with Blumhardt’s theological convictions. Encouraging Wilhelm to join the AEPM was therefore an intentional act—an effort to see his theological vision materialized in practice through Wilhelm’s missionary enterprise in China.
Blumhardt’s guidance to Wilhelm, grounded in direct Christology, influenced his subsequent missionary endeavors immeasurably. In a letter to Wilhelm dated 21 January 1901, Blumhardt wrote, “God bestows His spirit upon those who come to you. They [the Chinese] have no need to become
Christians in the formal sense; we have no reason to insist that this designation be used in foreign lands. Whoever follows God’s will and acts according to His purpose is a child of the Kingdom, regardless of whether they come from the homeland of Confucius or that of the Church Fathers. Christ, as the embodiment of truth and life, stands above all things to be developed.” (
Esche 2004, p. 64).
Therefore, Wilhelm did not require Chinese students to be baptized as Christians first. Although students were encouraged to read the Bible and participate in prayers, Wilhelm exhibited reluctance to administer baptism to them. Even when Chinese individuals willingly requested baptisms, Wilhelm followed the advice of his father-in-law, Christoph Blumhardt, choosing to offer only “silent” prayers and refraining from any formal or public baptismal ceremonies. In a letter dated 11 June 1904, to the AEPM, he explained this approach:
I perceive my entire educational work fundamentally from the following standpoint: considering the traditional Chinese “teacher–student” relationship, our students essentially form a community to which I relate similarly to how a pastor relates to his congregation, with the primary distinction that our relationship is entirely voluntary rather than institutionally or legally prescribed… “Baptism” is, to me, distasteful.
(BAdW 11/75)
He further elaborated on the method he preferred: “After providing prior instruction, I call them to my side and confer blessings upon them through prayer”, adding, “I have never formalized this relationship through baptism or any other ceremonial rites” (ibid.). Wilhelm also consistently avoided public disclosure of the exact number of his converts. In the same report, he noted
If you ask me how many people I have converted, I could not honestly give a number, as I find it difficult to distinguish between those I have influenced and those formally converted. Indeed, some individuals whom I have not officially “blessed” share a deeper personal connection with me and, in my view, are true disciples of Jesus.
(ibid.)
In fact, Wilhelm intentionally avoided the obligation to baptize believers in Qingdao, with the permission of the AEPM. In addition, he introduced some Chinese people who wished to become Christians to the American Presbyterian missionaries active in Shandong. However, there are still numerous records in his diary of believers consulting him and of him preparing them for baptism. At the Richard Wilhelm School, under Wilhelm’s guidance, students recited passages from the Bible and devotional books only during morning assemblies before the daily classes. Later, he introduced the practice of alternating readings between biblical texts and classical Chinese literature every other day, with interpretative commentary provided by a Chinese instructor. In defense of this approach, Wilhelm cited Martin Luther (1483–1546), whom he referred to as “our Luther”, arguing that the Protestant reformer himself emphasized “not only religious education but also sound secular schooling” (
R. Wilhelm 1913, p. 10). Hence, Wilhelm believed that the ethical teachings of biblical texts and Chinese classics could be alternated to foster mutual integration between Confucian thought and Christian spirituality, thus promoting their harmonious coexistence (
R. Wilhelm 1908, pp. 56–57). For a considerable period, Wilhelm refrained from introducing explicitly religious courses into the school’s curriculum.
For Wilhelm, “The Chinese will never embrace a rigid, dogmatic form of Christianity—just as no nation can be forced into such a restrictive framework [that does not align with its cultural and spiritual landscape]” (
S. Wilhelm 1956, p. 115). Years later, he expressed a sense of pride in his approach, declaring “Accordingly, I never christened any one in China, and have therefore perhaps come closer into touch with the nature of the Chinese people” (
R. Wilhelm 1926, p. 32).
Wilhelm’s non-dogmatic approach to “direct Christology” marked a significant departure from the traditional theological paradigms that had shaped missionary practices for decades. It challenged the conventional church-driven missionary ideology by dismantling the Western-centric “Christian–pagan” dichotomy and fostering a new space for dialogue between Christianity and indigenous Chinese traditions.
3.2. The Localization of Salvation: Toward a De-Dogmatic and Sinicized Christianity
In this section, we will discuss the fact that when Wilhelm first arrived in China as a missionary, he quickly perceived that the traditional missionary approach was plagued with problems, such as difficulty in understanding theological concepts; the denigration of Confucianism, which hurt the feelings of the Chinese people; and expansion through material gain and foreign power. Influenced by his mentor Blumhardt, he advocated the construction of a de-dogmatic, localized Christianity, stressing the need for missionaries to abandon their sense of cultural superiority and to promote localized reforms of church structures. In practice, through the founding of schools, Wilhelm implemented the educational policy of “emphasizing both Chinese and Western cultures”, alternating the recitation of the Bible and Chinese classics, weakening the compulsory nature of the religious curriculum, and emphasizing the importance of teaching through daily teaching. He emphasized penetration into Christian culture through daily teaching; at the same time, he established medical facilities such as the Faber Hospital to win the trust of the people through life-saving services. These initiatives broke through the traditional missionary model, integrating religious propagation into education and public health, promoting the integration of Christianity and Chinese culture with a posture of equal dialogue, laying the social foundation for his missionary activities, and providing a new path for the localization of Christianity.
When Richard Wilhelm first arrived in China, he was deeply optimistic about his mission to spread the “love of Christ” in Qingdao. He believed that “Christ is more than the head of a church, and more than the founder of a religion. He is the divine representative of humanity, which represents in Him, as its head, a unified entity. This humanity is of cosmic significance and will surely materialize in China as well as in Europe” (ibid., p. 182). However, Wilhelm soon became aware of the inherent challenges in conventional missionary practices. First of all, many uneducated Chinese believers were simply unable to understand these theological concepts, despite the extensive and tireless preaching of a large number of doctrines by the German missionaries who had come to China before him. Second, in their efforts to establish Western religious authority, some German missionaries, such as Ernst Faber, explicitly denounced Confucian teachings. This deeply offended the religious sensibilities and ethical traditions of the Chinese people, further hindering the localization of Christianity in China. In addition, because many of the lower classes valued immediate material gain more than abstract Christian tenets, the objective legal and material advantages associated with church membership made Christianity appealing to some converts. Some missionaries—such as Joseph Freinademetz, a German Catholic affiliated with the Society of the Divine Word—intervened in legal disputes involving Christian villagers (
Hartwich 1978, p. 144). Their actions were often driven by a sense of justice, although sometimes based on misjudgment, rather than deliberate favoritism. Nevertheless, such interventions could lead to tangible legal advantages for converts and thus reinforced the broader perception of Christian privilege. While these missionaries did not intentionally create systematic favoritism, it must be acknowledged that some German Catholic missionaries consciously used material incentives to attract converts and even promoted these strategies in practice (
Bornemann 1976, p. 184). Wilhelm had just arrived in China when he realized “If the Christians had been persecuted, they now endeavored to fight back. In fact, many joined the church for other purposes. They want to use the church to support their legal actions. If, for example, he happens to have a quarrel with his neighbor and is bent on revenge, it is indeed to his advantage to join the Church.” (ibid., p. 33). In addition, some German Catholic missionaries even relied on gunboats from their home countries to intervene in disputes between Chinese Christians and non-Christians, which intensified these conflicts further (
Mühlhahn 2000, pp. 360–61). As Wilhelm observed,
Naturally enough these methods provided peace neither for the Chinese people nor for the missions. It was a circulus vitiosus. The missionary brought pressure to bear on the local official in favour of his Christians, and threatened him with gunboats or other diplomatic means of intervention. The official gave way and oppressed the people in favour of the Christians. Eventually, when the misdeeds had accumulated, the population would rise in some sort of local revolt; they would burn down the mission buildings, and every now and again they would kill the missionary.
Of course, even before Wilhelm’s arrival in China, there were Western missionaries who tried to ease the relationship between Christianity and the native Chinese culture. The American missionary William Martin, for example, adopted a relatively accommodating stance on how to distinguish between “worship” and “veneration”, which sparked considerable controversy within the church at the time. In addition, C. W. Mateer and Pall D. Bergen carried out fruitful missionary and school work in Dengzhou, Shandong. In
Die Seele Chinas (1926), Wilhelm particularly praised the activities of various American, British, and Swedish university missions, noting that they had contributed to the work of Christian education in a spirit of freedom and full understanding (
R. Wilhelm 1926, p. 240). In Wilhelm’s view, for the gospel of Christ to take root and fully flourish in China, it had to begin with the “love of Christ” and find an expression that aligned with China’s spiritual and cultural traditions. Evangelization needed to align with traditional Chinese modes of thought and expression, necessitating the establishment of ‘a de-dogmatized and Sinicized form of Christianity’ (
Gründer 2004, p. 89). As Wilhelm further argued, this primarily entailed missionaries abandoning their traditional sense of cultural superiority and refraining from seeking to convert individuals or persuade them to join foreign institutions under the pretext of ensuring their eternal salvation (
R. Wilhelm 1926, p. 23). Likewise, Christianity itself had to be adapted in China to develop into a viable religious tradition for its future. This transformation, according to Wilhelm, had to begin with structural reforms within the church: it could no longer be Western-led but needed to be fully indigenized. “The future religion of China”, he asserted, “certainly will not assume the same form as the churches that exist today, for these churches were all founded in very special circumstances. Not one of them possesses the entire truth of Christianity. They are necessary structures, temporary buildings, which cannot be transplanted without further ado from one region to another.” (ibid., p. 182). One of the key challenges Wilhelm encountered was how Christian schools should approach Chinese students’ reverence for Confucius and whether he should personally participate in Confucian rituals. In his response to Wilhelm, Blumhardt offered a critical assessment of earlier missionary methods and articulated his own perspective:
He [Confucius] was a great man who, even in dealing with adversaries, upheld a profound sense of respect and reverence and, through this, cultivated a spiritual community. If I were in China, showing him respect—even today—could only be regarded as a righteous act, one that honors a man guided by God… When we set foot on Chinese soil in the name of Jesus today, we should give thanks to God for having already established a law here… A law that God set in place long ago; to reject this law would be to tantamount to blaspheming God. Therefore, in the school you established in Gaomi, you must not and should not thoughtlessly abolish such reverence. Rather, you are called to fulfill all acts of righteousness, just as Jesus did. These actions, freely undertaken, will be more persuasive than many words of prayer… So do not hesitate to follow those customs that the Chinese have preserved to honor the sacred traditions of their past.
In line with this perspective, Wilhelm believed that certain traditional rituals of Western churches did not necessarily need to be transplanted into China. In a letter to Dr. August Kind, president of the AEPM in 1901, Wilhelm wrote
In the present case, I think it is perfectly necessary not to baptize the congregations of the diocese collectively. I think it is clear to us that the rite of baptizing with water has no magical inner influence. What we need is baptism with the Holy Spirit and fire, which does not come from an institution established by mere mortals. I firmly believe that if we make distinctions solely on the basis of whether we are baptized or not, hypocrites will come to us and a great number of honest hearts that already belong to God spiritually will feel excluded. … I believe that we have reached a point in time where the situation is becoming unstoppable: just as circumcision was no longer used to distinguish between being a Jew and not being a Jew in Paul’s day, so today the distinction between Christians and Gentiles must be abolished, and everything must be left to free will in the spirit of Jesus Christ. It is risky, but it must be risked once and for all, or we shall never win the people for Christ, for partisanship and externality will forever sideline the great issues of life and death.
Dr. Kind was so persuaded by Wilhelm that he later approved Wilhelm’s application to fulfill his mission on his own terms, despite the reservations of the majority of his fellow board members. Similarly, Wilhelm argued that a “new mission field” such as China should not be approached in the “African way”, i.e., by establishing a patriarchal Christian community centered on missionaries, but rather in the way that Jesus gathered his disciples by establishing a localized but strongly ecumenical “Community of true Christian Witnesses” (Gemeinde wirklicher Erkenner) (
Gerber 2003, pp. 176–77).
Consequently, Wilhelm’s missionary practice prioritized the socialization and concretization of the gospel. In practical terms, this meant particularly “exerting influence through schools and hospitals”. In May 1900, shortly after his wife Salome joined him in Qingdao, they rented a residence where they jointly established the Deutsch-Chinesisches Seminar (Sino-German Theological School) to educate Chinese boys. The following year, with financial support from the AEPM, the school secured a permanent campus and was officially renamed Richard Wilhelm Schule (Richard Wilhelm Academy). It adopted a seven-year curriculum comprising three years of primary and four years of secondary education. Typically, Western missionary schools in China primarily aimed to instill Christian values in the younger generation of Chinese believers, training them as future assistants in missionary work. Consequently, religious instruction often constituted a central component of the curriculum. However, Wilhelm implemented an educational policy at his school that placed equal emphasis on both Chinese and Western studies. He recruited a group of Chinese intellectuals to serve as instructors alongside foreign staff. Students were expected to demonstrate basic proficiency in Chinese and attain working competence in German. This bilingual requirement ensured that they received instruction in Western scientific knowledge while also engaging deeply with traditional Chinese culture. Notably, during the school’s opening ceremony on 20 June 1901, Wilhelm remarked,
At the same time, our students are Chinese, and we do not seek to alter that identity. For this reason, we consider it equally important that they receive a strong grounding in their own cultural and intellectual traditions. To this end, we have incorporated Confucian classics and other subjects traditionally regarded as essential to Chinese education into our curriculum. We hope that our students will approach these studies with the necessary diligence, for if they acquire only foreign knowledge while feeling disconnected from their own cultural heritage, they will be like a bird with only one wing—useless, for it cannot fly.
A 1905 report on the curriculum at the Richard Wilhelm Schule presents a structured curriculum for secondary students across four levels, covering subjects such as classical Chinese literature (the
Shujing 書經, The Book of Documents), Chinese composition, Song dynasty history, world history, geography, commercial arithmetic, geometry, natural sciences (zoology), physics (thermodynamics), German, religion, music, and physical education (
Kind 1905, p. 112). Confronted with a shortage of appropriate teaching materials, Wilhelm actively engaged in the development of textbooks. In 1903, the school was relocated to a new site on Missionshügel (Missions’ Hill), which enabled further institutional expansion. He also imported an extensive collection of specimens, instructional tools, and scientific instruments from Germany, thereby enhancing both the quality of instruction and the school’s infrastructure. Over time, the institution produced more than a thousand graduates, many of whom went on to achieve distinctions in various fields.
Unlike many missionary schools of the time, Wilhelm’s institution did not include religious instruction in its curriculum, nor did it formally observe Christian holidays. Instead, Christian teachings were subtly interwoven into daily lessons and school activities. For instance, morning prayers featured alternating readings from the Bible and classical Chinese texts, allowing students to engage with both Christian teachings and Confucian moral philosophy. Additionally, participation in Sunday church services was left to the students’ discretion (
Gerber 2003, pp. 167–99).
An examination of the school’s 1903 morning prayer practices highlights Wilhelm’s innovative pedagogical approach. He incorporated the Analects alongside biblical texts and introduced the jingxue zhushu ti (經學註疏體) methodology—a traditional Chinese method of textual annotation and commentary on the classics—to replace conventional catechism. This “dual-canon system” signified a shift from doctrinal instruction to an approach emphasizing “value resonance”, effectively localizing Christian teachings, as envisioned in Matthew 6:10: “Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven”. The impact of this approach soon became apparent, as some Chinese individuals actively sought Wilhelm out, requesting baptism and expressing a genuine interest in converting to Christianity.
In 1905, under the commission of the AEPM, Wilhelm established a girls’ school in Qingdao alongside his wife. The institution, initially named the Mädchenschule des Allgemeinen Evangelisch-Protestantischen Missionsvereins (Girls’ School of the General Evangelical Protestant Missionary Society), was later renamed Meiyi Academy (美懿書院) after his wife’s Chinese name. In 1912, it was further renamed Shufan Girls’ School (淑範女子學校). This academy, too, embodied Wilhelm’s principle of making the “love of Christ” tangible. One of its most significant contributions was the challenge it posed to deeply rooted sociocultural practices—most notably the tradition of foot-binding. Due to the prevailing social custom, many of the young female students had already undergone foot-binding before enrolling in the school. German female teachers encouraged them to unbind their feet and break free from this practice, eventually persuading their conservative parents to embrace this change. A notable case occurred in 1909 when Madame Zhang of Gaomi, influenced by Wilhelm and his wife, became the first woman in the county to publicly renounce foot-binding, leading all female members of her family to do the same. Owing to Wilhelm and his wife’s growing reputation, the school’s enrollment expanded rapidly—from a handful of students to 82 within four years. By the outbreak of World War I in 1914, nearly 90 students had graduated from the girls’ school. Many graduates later became educators themselves. That same year, Wilhelm’s school recorded its highest enrollment to date, reaching 130 students (
R. Wilhelm 1914, pp. 29–32).
Wilhelm viewed the establishment of hospitals as a vital means of manifesting the “love of Christ” (agape). While mediating conflicts between German colonial forces and local Chinese militias, he set up temporary field clinics to provide medical care to the wounded. These humanitarian efforts quickly earned him widespread goodwill among the local population. Recognizing Western medicine as a means to foster trust between the Chinese and Christianity, Wilhelm expanded his medical initiatives and achieved considerable success. A notable example of this impact was a noblewoman from Gaomi County who, following the successful treatment of her cataracts, donated an entire estate to Wilhelm for conversion into a hospital. Building upon this foundation, Wilhelm personally oversaw the establishment of the Ernst Faber Hospital in Qingdao, which remains in operation to this day. During the 1903–1904 fiscal year, the hospital treated a total of 5008 patients, while its Gaomi branch provided medical care to 3254 individuals (
Kind 1905, p. 117). A report from the same period further highlighted that in addition to providing medical services, the hospital served as an effective instrument for cultivating trust in the German administration (ibid., p. 120). At the time, Qingdao was home to 27,622 Chinese residents and 1057 German civilians (excluding military personnel; ibid., p. 115). Statistically, this meant that approximately one in every six individuals in the city had received treatment at Wilhelm’s hospital—indicating the substantial role it played in fostering engagement with the Chinese community. Through these social initiatives, Wilhelm’s mission station in Qingdao gained credibility and respect among the local population, creating favorable conditions for the spread of Christianity. Gradually, his missionary influence extended beyond Qingdao to surrounding regions, including Gaomi and Pingdu.
A 1905 article published in
Missionsberichte (Mission Reports) stated, “Facilitated by the influence of Western culture, missionary work has made considerable strides among the local population, particularly through the institutions of schools and hospitals”. In Qingdao alone, Wilhelm’s mission had established five mission stations, ten outposts in the German district, six outposts in the Chinese district, and twelve schools—including seven in the German district—serving a total of 255 students (
Kind 1905, p. 114).
Thus, although Wilhelm explicitly claimed never to have baptized a single Chinese convert, he effectively manifested Christian charity through tangible social initiatives, notably by establishing hospitals and schools. By allocating church resources to education and public health initiatives, he not only fostered goodwill among the Chinese population but also established favorable conditions for the expansion of Christianity.
Reflecting on his mission, Wilhelm stated that his goal was not “to use our money to eliminate all suffering in those so-called heathen lands” but rather “to enable the Chinese to improve their own conditions”. Therefore, Wilhelm favored the American Presbyterian practice in Shandong and strongly supported the Chinese in establishing their own churches, stating in his report to the Fellowship
After all, it is essential that the Chinese should take the whole matter into their own hands, so that they may become neither Baptists nor Presbyterians, but remain Chinese. It is therefore all the more important to work in this direction from the beginning, so as not to go astray.
Thus, when Chinese teachers and students in Wilhelm’s school wished to convert to Christianity, Wilhelm had them baptized in the Chinese church. In her memoirs, Wilhelm’s wife wrote
Recently two of our teachers, both with degrees in literature, joined the Chinese Christian community through baptism. These movements give us hope that in all the chaos that is seen at first glance in China today, lasting fruit of the Kingdom of God may develop. Three of the students were also baptized. Nevertheless, Wilhelm still believed that the congregation should not gather around him according to dogma and church, but according to the gospel, where the church is placed in the hands of mankind, but remain free for true worship.
In Wilhelm’s words, he “could only work for the ‘invisible’ church.” (Ibid., p. 215). However, after Qingdao was occupied by Japanese forces at the end of 1914, Wilhelm, as one of the few German males not interned in a prisoner of war camp, had to take on the vast majority of the day-to-day affairs of the German church in the Qingdao area between 1915 and 1920. Wilhelm took this to be a job ordained by God and did not complain.
Wilhelm was always positive about the localization of Christianity in China. He believed that “localization” had been an important characteristic of Christianity since the time when the gospel began to spread in Asia Minor and the Roman Empire. Therefore, “missionaries must get rid of the narrow view that they want to transfer unthinkingly to Chinese soil the ecclesiastical institutions that were formed under certain historical conditions in Western countries.” (Ibid., p. 138).
In 1926, Wilhelm, who had returned to Germany to take up a professorship in sinology at the University of Frankfurt, commented on the progress of the “localization” of the Christian Church in China over the course of a quarter of a century:
In the process of becoming increasingly independent from the influence of foreign churches, they [the Chinese churches] have become more and more in tune with their compatriots. Today, the Chinese Church is no longer a foreign vassal, nor does it regard the majority of the Chinese people as its enemies. It plays an active, constructive role in social life. In conjunction with this, Christians have begun to work in solidarity with one another.
And to Wilhelm’s delight, the differences between the different Christian denominations in China did not affect the spread of Christianity in China. The reason for this is that “faith in Christ conquered the Protestant–Catholic divide.” (Ibid., p. 242). Thus, Wilhelm was pleased to see that “thus a unified Chinese Church sprang up.” (Ibid.).
To summarize, Wilhelm’s thought embodied the pursuit of cultural equality and respect for local traditions, breaking the “Western-centered” model of evangelism. His concept of “de-dogmatization” and his support for localized churches demonstrated an open vision that transcended the times. However, its essence was still to serve the purpose of religious propagation, and it failed to completely detach itself from the ideological limitations of the colonial era. At the same time, due to a lack of strong support from the mother church, the actual results he achieved in promoting the conversion of the Chinese people to Christianity were not obvious.
3.3. Fostering Dialogue Between Christianity and Indigenous Culture
In this section, we will discuss Wilhelm’s commitment to breaking down the dichotomy between Christians and non-Christians and promoting two-way cultural exchanges between the East and the West, influenced by Blumhardt’s idea that “Christianity needs to be in dialogue with the local culture”. He insisted on an “equal emphasis on Chinese and Western cultures” in his schooling in China, making institutions such as his schools a platform for cultural integration, and his graduates entered the fields of education, administration, and commerce in China, facilitating the connection between the church’s education and the local system. The Qing government praised the contributions of the school and recognized its role in social enlightenment. At the same time, Wilhelm emphasized his interaction with Chinese intellectual elites, promoting philosophical dialogues between the East and the West, and collaborating with Chinese scholars in translating classics such as the Analects of Confucius and the Book of Changes, thus making important contributions to sinological studies in Germany. His practice not only broke through the traditional missionary framework and transformed religious sites into centers for the production of cross-cultural knowledge but also provides a historical example of mutual understanding between Chinese and Western intellectual elites.
Notably, Wilhelm rarely employed the term “heathen” in reference to non-Christian Chinese: “Missionaries in China can no longer assume a position of cultural superiority, believing themselves to be representatives of a ‘higher’ cultural nation confronting a ‘lower’ one; instead, they must adopt a human-to-human attitude. They must also strive to understand and appreciate spiritual traditions beyond Christianity; only then can they discard the condescending implications of the term ‘heathen’—a word that should ideally be avoided altogether” (
R. Wilhelm 1909, pp. 78–79). He further emphasized “Our success in Gaomi, Pingdu (平度), and Qingdao has largely been due to our conscious effort to avoid expansionist missionary tactics” (
R. Wilhelm 1904, pp. 235–36).
Wilhelm’s idea of cultural dialogue was also influenced by Blumhardt’s. In his endeavor to dismantle the binary opposition between “Christian” and “heathen”, Blumhardt emphasized that Europeans should also learn from other cultures, thereby facilitating a genuine dialogue between Christianity and indigenous traditions. He argued, “The divine essence, as manifested in Christ, should be expressed naturally and authentically within each culture, in its own linguistic and customary framework—so much so that even Europeans might gain insight and inspiration from its living essence” (
Esche 2004, pp. 63–64). This perspective profoundly influenced Richard Wilhelm, who dedicated himself to studying classical Chinese traditions, ultimately leading to his transformation into a distinguished sinologist. Wilhelm recognized the potential for a bidirectional cultural exchange between Germany and China early in his educational endeavors. During the opening ceremony of the Richard Wilhelm Schule, he remarked
In the past, the East and the West remained isolated from one another, with each nation following its own course, developing distinct civilizations, customs, and institutions—often in stark contrast. Owing to limited mutual understanding, even the smallest bits of information about the other side were met with astonishment. However, times have changed. Railways and steamships have enabled unprecedented levels of contact, and this connectivity is continuously expanding, irresistibly binding nations together. This is surely God’s will, to which we must pay special attention. God’s intent is not only to promote trade among nations but also to awaken the realization that all humanity stands as brothers and sisters before Him. In the eyes of God, there is no distinction between Chinese and Europeans. Therefore, it is the duty of all nations to strive for mutual understanding and respect, to share their unique intellectual and spiritual treasures for the enrichment of all.
Wilhelm’s commitment to cultural exchange was not merely rhetorical. He actively sought instruction from Chinese teachers in his school, immersing himself in classical texts while also striving to obtain official recognition for the institution. His goal was to ensure that his graduates could participate in state examinations, thereby gaining access to elite social circles and fostering the top-down dissemination of influence within Chinese society. This dual-track approach—integrating Western education while preserving the core values of Chinese intellectual tradition—became a defining feature of his pedagogical philosophy. A year after establishing the school, Wilhelm traveled to Jinan to meet Zhou Fu (周馥, 1837–1921), the highest-ranking Chinese official in Shandong province. Soon after, Zhou paid an official visit to the school in Qingdao, where he personally evaluated the students’ academic performance. He commended the outstanding students and granted them permission to pursue further studies at higher institutions in Jinan. During this period, graduates of missionary schools were generally excluded from China’s formal education system. However, by 1909, the Richard Wilhelm Schule had successfully placed 24 of its graduates into prestigious institutions beyond Qingdao, including the newly established university in Jinan. In short, this integration of Christian education within China’s formal academic framework conferred a level of legitimacy previously unattainable, facilitating the assimilation of church school graduates into the social elite. Despite Wilhelm’s efforts, full parity between his school and Chinese institutions remained unattained, as students were still required to pass entrance examinations for admission to higher-tier institutions in Jinan. Nevertheless, his achievements constituted a major advancement in integrating Christianity into China’s broader cultural and intellectual framework.
The establishment of the Richard Wilhelm Schule, Meiyi Academy, and schools in the Gaomi region contributed to the ongoing expansion of the AEPM’s activities within the Jiaozhou Bay Protectorate. These developments also led Wilhelm to become increasingly involved in education. Between 1903 and 1911, Wilhelm formally served as the supervisor and instructor at Gaomi’s first modern county-level school, where he systematically developed a curriculum framework that later became a pedagogical model for other county-level schools throughout Shandong province. Following the Qing court’s 1905 decree abolishing the imperial examination system (keju 科舉), Wilhelm collaborated with the colonial administration and assumed the role of consultant for state-run primary schools within the “protectorate”. He took charge of overseeing the newly established rural schools and played a key role in formulating curricula and instructional materials. Consistent with his approach at the Richard Wilhelm Schule, Wilhelm integrated Western and Chinese pedagogical content into these schools while ensuring their alignment with the broader Chinese educational framework. A significant number of graduates later secured teaching positions in these newly established modern schools.
A 1909 list compiled by Wilhelm documented the career trajectories of his graduates that year: six entered the Chinese educational system as teachers; seven obtained teaching appointments in elementary schools within the Qingdao concession; ten pursued careers in either German or Chinese governmental institutions; six served as translators; thirteen took up railway administration roles; and nineteen engaged in commercial professions. This dataset not only demonstrates the extensive impact of Wilhelm’s curriculum reforms but also underscores the integration of his students into key sectors of both Chinese and colonial society, thereby reinforcing the role of mission-led education in shaping broader socio-economic and administrative structures beyond theological instruction.
In recognition of his outstanding contributions to education, Wilhelm was conferred the honorary title of a fourth-rank official (四品官銜) by the Qing government in 1906. The official commendation specifically acknowledged his role in maintaining social harmony, stating
Over the past one to two years, the province of Shandong has experienced a state of complete tranquility: Christians and non-Christians have coexisted peacefully, and no conflicts have arisen in connection with missionary activities… The German Protestant missionary Pastor Richard Wilhelm established a school within the German-leased territory of Qingdao, attracting a significant number of students. Indeed, he was the first to undertake such an initiative for public education (Volksaufklärung) in the province of Shandong.
Likewise, Pastor Schüller, another missionary based in Qingdao, affirmed Wilhelm’s approach in a letter to the AEPM: “Once again, I am deeply struck by how correct Wilhelm’s method of engaging with the Chinese truly is. I must say, it feels like divine guidance” (
S. Wilhelm 1956, p. 132).
After the Xinhai Revolution in 1911, which marked the collapse of the Qing court, many former Qing officials, having been displaced from political office, sought refuge in Qingdao under the auspices of the German colonial administration. Richard Wilhelm actively assisted them by securing accommodation and providing financial aid. For Wilhelm, these efforts were not merely acts of charity but were integral to his broader vision of “redemption for all people”, which, in his view, necessitated first “winning over individual Christians who could serve as future messengers of the Gospel” (BAdW 11/75). Wilhelm quickly established close relationships with prominent figures such as Governor Zhou Fu (周馥), Prince Gong Puwei (溥偉), and the renowned scholar Gu Hongming (辜鴻銘). Together, they co-founded the Konfuzius Gesellschaft (尊孔文社, Confucian Society) in Qingdao. While Confucianism was in decline following the collapse of the Qing court, China’s last imperial dynasty, Wilhelm viewed this transitional period as an opportunity to cultivate relationships with officials who had received a classical Confucian education. Through the Konfuzius Gesellschaft, Wilhelm frequently engaged in intellectual discussions on culture, philosophy, and related topics with former Qing elites. This exchange was reciprocal: German scholars participated in these discussions and, with Wilhelm’s assistance, introduced the ideas of Immanuel Kant and other prominent Western intellectuals to the Chinese literati. These dialogues deepened Wilhelm’s understanding of Chinese spiritual and intellectual traditions, laying the groundwork for his subsequent translations of Chinese classical texts. His translation of the
Analects was particularly well received. Pastor Kind, chairman of the AEPM, praised it as exemplary, stating “To truly understand the Chinese people, one must grasp their spiritual essence. If we wish to influence them through Christianity, we must connect with the elements of truth within their tradition. To achieve this, we must first familiarize ourselves with Confucius and his teachings… In this regard, Pastor Wilhelm’s meticulous translation and interpretation of the
Analects represent an outstanding and invaluable contribution” (
Kind 1911, pp. 285–88).
In pursuit of a deeper understanding of Chinese culture, Wilhelm sought further scholarly mentorship. Upon the recommendation of his longtime friend Zhou Fu, Wilhelm invited Lao Naixuan (劳乃宣, 1843–1921), former Vice Minister of Education, to Qingdao in 1912 to assist him in studying and translating the
Mengzi 孟子 (the Book of Mengzi) and the
Yijing 易經 (the Book of Changes) (
R. Wilhelm 1926, p. 184). Although World War I temporarily disrupted their collaboration in August 1914, Lao returned to Qingdao in 1917 to resume this mentorship. Their partnership continued until the summer of 1920, when Wilhelm, as part of the last group of German expatriates, was compelled to leave Qingdao following the war’s conclusion, marking the end of his missionary and academic endeavors in China.
After Wilhelm’s departure, Lao continued to oversee the operations of the Richard Wilhelm Schule until his death in 1921. By then, the AEPM’s influence in the region had greatly declined. Yet the fact that a former Qing official—and also a symbol of Confucian scholarship—assumed leadership of a church-run institution carried profound symbolic weight, signifying that Wilhelm’s model of indigenizing Christianity had gained recognition from China’s intellectual tradition.
Upon returning to Germany in 1924 and accepting a professorship in sinology at the University of Frankfurt, Wilhelm became an impassioned advocate for intercultural understanding. Through public lectures and scholarly publications, he argued that humanity’s future depended on the creation of a new world order grounded in the synthesis of the cultural and spiritual legacies of East and West. As he wrote, the intellectual encounter between these civilizations represented “perhaps the last and the most important development which the history of the world has to offer. It is the synthesis, not merely of two directly opposed cultivated spheres, but also perhaps of two different periods of the history of humanity” (ibid., p. 230). His work further demonstrated, on a practical level, that missionary institutions could transform into platforms for intercultural knowledge production, facilitating dialogue between Christian and non-Christian traditions.
From this perspective, Wilhelm’s missionary work was not primarily focused on conversions or establishing religious congregations. Instead, his efforts aimed to establish a cultural and spiritual foundation for a unified human community through the mutual enrichment of Eastern and Western civilizations, thereby paving the way, in his words, toward “the world returning to God”. Despite dedicating much of his life to education, healthcare, and the study of Chinese classics, Wilhelm never questioned the legitimacy and significance of his missionary endeavors. He remained convinced that “missions are phenomena which have the same significance in modern times as the crusades had in the Middle Ages”. Regarding the ultimate outcome of his efforts, Wilhelm expressed unwavering trust in divine providence: “As for what may come of it, I leave it to the creative work of the Holy Spirit” (ibid., p. 32).