A program taking kids out of class for Bible study tests boundaries in public schools
Jess Geren’s four children are regular churchgoers — they participate in Christian youth groups and study the Bible at home. When LifeWise Academy, a fast-growing program that allows students to leave school during the day for religious instruction, came to Ayersville Local Schools, their northwest Ohio district, she saw it as a chance to spread the gospel.
“It’s not my kids that I worry about,” she said. “This is their opportunity to be a light. Their mission field is the public school.”
For many other Ohio parents, that’s a problem.
Since he was 8, Cherie Khumprakob’s son, now 11, has been receiving written invitations from classmates to join them at LifeWise. She found one in his backpack.
“He hates getting these notes from his friends and having to tell them ‘no’ repeatedly,” said Khumprakob, who lives in the Columbus area. “Training kids to pressure their friends into religious activities while at public school, during school hours, crosses a line.”
(Courtesy of Cherie Khumprakob)
The opposing views illustrate the tension in Ohio and other states where LifeWise is rapidly expanding. The $35 million organization expects to serve close to 100,000 kids in 34 states this school year. It has 1,600 employees and runs its own fleet of eye-catching red buses.
Founded in 2018, LifeWise is the most visible group behind a movement to spread off-campus religious instruction during the school day. Since 2024, the nonprofit has successfully lobbied for legislation in Indiana, Iowa, Ohio, Oklahoma and Texas mandating that districts allow students to attend LifeWise or similar programs. Some say the requirements violate the separation of church and state.
“That’s a big shift,” said Mark Chancey, a religious studies professor at Southern Methodist University in Dallas. “This whole mandatory aspect is historically something different.”
In a moment when Republicans are fighting to hang the 10 Commandments on classroom walls and squeeze biblical passages into reading lessons, LifeWise has taken these programs in a more evangelical direction. The organization faces pushback from parents and district staff who think Bible study should be relegated to afterschool hours. LifeWise programs that reward students with items like candy and encourage kids to recruit their friends have proven particularly divisive.
But those are the strategies LifeWise recommends as a way to increase participation. “Send students back to school with ‘Invite a Friend’ flyers,” urges a tip sheet on “boosting enrollment.” A Q&A document says treats are “fun incentives” that are meant to foster a “positive and engaging learning environment.”
“Most students who enjoy a sport, activity or program will talk about it with their friends and encourage them to give it a try as well,” said LifeWise spokeswoman Christine Czernejewski. “Lifewise is no different.”
The 74 found examples of financial transactions between districts and LifeWise that could create the appearance of promoting the program. Especially in Ohio, LifeWise often enjoys strong support from school officials; one superintendent warned staff to avoid such activity while the district was “under the radar.”
Supporters argue that LifeWise and similar classes respect the First Amendment’s Establishment Clause because they require parent permission, don’t meet on school grounds and aren’t supposed to rely on school resources for support.
Some districts are putting “tacks on the road so the big red bus loses air in the tires” just because the program teaches the Bible, said Jeremy Dys, senior counsel with First Liberty Institute, a law firm specializing in religious freedom cases.
The 46,000-student Columbus, Ohio, district banned religious groups from sending kids back to school with any “materials, snacks, clothing, candies, trinkets or other items.” Then the legislature amended the law to say districts can’t prevent organizations from distributing educational materials, but have some discretion over limiting non-educational items like treats. For now, Dys, who represents LifeWise, is waiting to see whether the new restrictions interfere with the program.
“There’s just a lot of animosity and hostility towards religion,” he said. But recent Supreme Court decisions, like one siding with a football coach who held mid-field prayers and another allowing parents to opt their children out of hearing LGBTQ-themed story books, have expanded religious influence at school. “The courts … have basically been telling school districts, ‘Cool it.’ ”
In total, 16 states require districts to allow students to participate in religious studies during school hours, but a few, like Pennsylvania and New York, have had such laws on the books for years. Some states aren’t ready to take that leap. Legislation requiring districts to release students stalled this year in Alabama, Georgia and Nebraska.
At an education subcommittee hearing in February, Georgia state Rep. David Clark, a Republican running for lieutenant governor, said the programs could solve one of the most pressing issues facing public schools — enrollment loss.
“We have thousands of students leaving public schools. It could be private school; it could be home school,” he said. “I think this … protects our public schools, because it allows parents, [if] they want the religious studies, they can sign their kid up.”
(LifeWise Academy, Facebook)
Clark alluded to data suggesting that attendance increases and behavior improves in schools with LifeWise programs. The findings, from a 2023 report sponsored by a supporter, are frequently cited by LifeWise founder Joel Penton and officials who pitch the program to school boards across the country.
But some researchers say the report’s conclusions overstate the program’s benefits. Charles Riedesel, a computer scientist at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln, called the work “shoddy.” For one, it included the COVID year, a time when states changed how they tracked attendance because so many students were learning remotely.
‘Blows my mind’
Even though the legislation failed in Georgia, LifeWise still has programs in about six districts statewide, and church leaders are pushing for more.
On a sunny Friday morning in October roughly an hour outside Atlanta, about 20 Cartersville Elementary fifth graders piled onto a LifeWise bus for a short drive to a local church. Ebby McCoy said she was missing a computer class, but likes how the LifeWise lessons “go a bit deeper” into the Bible than what she learns in church.
(Linda Jacobson/The 74)
Former elementary school teacher Danielle Ruff energetically led the kids through a fast-paced lesson on the 10 plagues that the Bible says God inflicted on Egypt for keeping the Jews enslaved. As she spoke, students connected puzzle pieces linking the disasters in order — water turning to blood, frogs infesting homes and gnats “biting them like crazy,” Ruff said.
“The next set of plagues only happen to the Egyptians. They don’t happen to the Israelites,” she said. “It blows my mind every time.”
Jason Morrow, a LifeWise board member, was among several volunteers on hand to help kids locate Bible verses. He called the program a “touchpoint during the week” that teaches his daughter, one of the fifth graders, that faith is “not just a Sunday weekend thing.”
But Clay Willis, who works at the church hosting the program, said LifeWise leaders try to respect the school’s boundaries. For one, they don’t hand out candy.
“If we sugar them up, that’s not the best way to serve the teachers,” he said.
(Linda Jacobson/The 74)
‘It’s insulting’
Supporters of LifeWise and similar programs point to a 1952 Supreme Court decision, Zorach v. Clauson, that legalized the practice. But the fact that these programs pull kids out of school during the day offers critics their leading argument. During a meeting last fall, Amber Skinner, a board member in the Worthington, Ohio, district, near Columbus, said checking students in and out of school for their LifeWise session is disruptive and eats up staff time.
“Teachers who are funded with taxpayer dollars” spend time providing a lot of “hands-on assistance” to elementary students who need help signing themselves out, she said.
The classes, usually held once or twice a week, often coincide with non-core offerings like art and music. Some educators think students are losing out on important material.
Alan Limke, a retired STEM teacher from the Milton Union district, outside Dayton, kept a list of the lessons that students missed every Tuesday when they left for LifeWise. They included simple circuits, building and launching foam rockets and 3-D modeling. Leading up to the 2024 solar eclipse, when Milton was in the path of totality, he planned a month of activities, including a visit from a mobile planetarium.
“It’s insulting,” said Limke, who grew up Catholic, but now considers himself an atheist. “I work very hard to come up with lessons that are rigorous and fun and important.”
(Courtesy of Alan Limke)
While LifeWise requires parent permission, specific procedures vary by district, according to Czernejewski, the organization’s spokeswoman. In Ayersville, Ohio, the district Geren’s children attend, the initial permission form remains in effect year to year unless a parent requests a withdrawal. That seems wrong to Nick Sullivan, whose oldest daughter wanted to stop attending after fifth grade.
“You’ve got to send in a paper stating that you do not want your kid to attend LifeWise or they’re going to automatically enroll them,” Sullivan said. He thinks schools should require the permission slips annually, just like other paperwork.
Sullivan withheld his daughter’s name to protect her privacy. Now an eighth grader, she told The 74 she found the LifeWise lessons repetitive and said the instructors “would give us a full bag of candy” for reciting Bible verses.
“I was supposed to be in study hall and they kept on sending me whether I liked it or not,” she said.
‘Crossing the line’
Experiences like those contribute to the growing opposition to LifeWise. The Secular Education Association, formed in 2023, keeps a lookout for incidents where they think school officials inappropriately promote the program or allow LifeWise too much access. They’ve found school officials who tout LifeWise in newsletters or post photos on social media with the group’s leaders. Other examples they’ve gathered since 2023 include:
- Continental Elementary in northwest Ohio shared a video of a LifeWise representative on its Facebook page in 2022. The woman displayed baked goods students could choose from if they attended a LifeWise fundraiser. “We have yummy brownies, cookies with M&M’s,” she said. “It’s just so beautiful.” The district did not respond to questions about the video.
- The Culver district in Indiana, west of Fort Wayne, held a LifeWise-related assembly during school hours last year that caught the attention of attorneys at the Freedom from Religion Foundation. The organization, which advocates for church-state separation, reminded Superintendent Karen Shuman of the district’s policy stating that “no solicitation for attendance at religious instruction shall be permitted on [district] premises.”
In an email to The 74, Shuman said the district is “not conducting Lifewise programs” and that she had “no idea” what the assembly was about.
- The Supreme Court said religious instruction during the school day should be held off school grounds. The Elmwood Local Schools, south of Toledo, rents space to LifeWise near a school. Superintendent Tony Borton said the lease “has not been an issue in our community.” But last year, he warned against mentioning LifeWise during high school announcements after someone complained, according to an email the Secular Education Association obtained through a public records request. “We are crossing the line with these type things,” Borton wrote. “I am trying to reign in [sic], with the hope we can do more later when we are not under the radar.”
(Courtesy of Zachary Parrish)
A 74 analysis of data from GovSpend, a company that tracks government purchases, turned up a few additional examples of expenditures that could raise questions. In 2022, Ohio’s Franklin Monroe school district paid Caleb Crevier, a basketball spinning performer, $800 for a “LifeWise assembly.” A LifeWise representative, Tara Schwartz initiated the event, according to district emails. The district did not respond to questions about it.
Another Ohio district, River View, cut a check for $2,000 to LifeWise earlier this year. The funds came from community members donating to the organization, but were improperly routed through the district, said district Treasurer Kara Kimes.
“I’d like to get these funds cleaned up ASAP as donations that are directly for Lifewise shouldn’t be flowing through the district,” she wrote to another staff member in an email The 74 obtained through a public records request.
(Lifewise)
Czernejewski, the LifeWise spokeswoman, said the organization does not advise local school districts, but that its “role is to operate in compliance with applicable laws.” She added that she was unaware of school officials promoting the program, noting that LifeWise can submit announcements to district newsletters, just like other community organizations.
‘Develop good relationships’
Off-site religious studies during the school day date back to the early 1900s when the Mormon church offered “seminary” classes to students in Granite, Utah.
Around the same time, a Gary, Indiana, superintendent launched an off-site religious studies program, and the concept began to grow across the country.
One of the longest-running examples is School Ministries, based in South Carolina, the first state to allow districts to award elective credit for such programs. Like the lawmaker in Georgia, Executive Director Ken Breivik said the classes allow parents who can’t afford private school “to get some sort of religious experience.” But he thinks forcing districts to release students can spark a “visceral reaction” from school leaders and prefers not to talk much about LifeWise.
“We are just a different organization. We have never done a school board presentation,” he said. He will ask districts to allow a small pilot program before spreading to multiple schools. “We work really hard to develop good relationships with the schools we serve.”
In January, Penton, LifeWise’s founder, joined a Christian broadcaster to discuss an unlikely competitor in Marysville, outside Columbus: Hellion Academy for Independent Learning, or HAIL. The Satanic Temple sponsors the program as an alternative to Christian groups meeting during the school day. The organizers’ intent, Penton said, is “to rattle people” and get districts to stop releasing students for any religious instruction.
HAIL, which focuses on secular humanism rather than Satan worship, began as parent Susannah Plumb’s response to her kids’ classmates leaving school for Joy El Bible Adventure, a Pennsylvania program.
(Courtesy of Susannah Plumb)
“It’s not in-your-face proselytization, but little kids don’t understand. They see Johnny get on the bus once a week … and go on a field trip,” Plumb said. “My kids felt left behind.”
HAIL meets at a nearby library, where the kids conduct science experiments, launch community service projects and paint “kindness stones” to place in a local park at the end of the year. But she said the program wouldn’t exist if Joy El, LifeWise and others didn’t.
“I believe in the separation of church and state, but I also believe in plurality,” she said. “When there’s one, there needs to be another.”
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