Main menu:

The Word To The World

From Humble Location In Broadway, Freelandia Takes Bible Teaching Global

By Kelly Jasper

BROADWAY — Strictly speaking, Freelandia is a Bible college in Broadway.

It sits in a modest brick-and-white building at the end of a gravel driveway, just down the road from Broadway High School. There, a sign advertises Sunday services in the college’s basement. Delmar and Ellen Shoemaker live upstairs, on the second story that doubles as their home and office.

It’s a unique setup, even for a correspondence college. Most people have no idea what goes on here.

“People just see the brick-and-mortar building,” says Delmar, a 60-year-old West Virginia native, who is president of the school. “They don’t know the world is our campus.”

Classrooms Without Borders

Freelandia’s classrooms span continents. Every day, letters arrive from Asia, Africa and Europe. On Thursday, Delmar sat at his desk, leafing through a stack postmarked in Ethiopia, Zimbabwe and Italy.

These letters are from Freelandia’s students. They write quarterly to report the books they’ve read, the sermons they’ve preached and the missions they’ve led.

On any given year, Delmar says, about 2,000 students are enrolled in the school, named as a play on words of the Finnish hymn, “Finlandia.” About 90 percent of those students live overseas. Those from the U.S. are scattered in almost every state and only one or two are from the Valley.

Most are studying to become pastors in one of Freelandia’s six fields of study, which includes everything from Christian education to biblical counseling. Some attend to earn a certificate, but others work through the entire seven-year program to earn doctorates.

Education Largely Free

Most won’t ever pay a thing. Donations from the school’s American students support the international programs.

“The tuition we receive from one student in the U.S. will support three or four students in Africa,” Ellen says.

As a nondenominational school, Freelandia has never been endowed by any foundation or church. No one on staff has ever drawn a salary.

“We’re able to live off of private investments from before we joined the school’s faculty,” Delmar says. That was 12 years ago.

Delmar grew up in a Southern Baptist church in Lost City, W.Va. He and Ellen moved to Pennsylvania, had two sons and opened an electronics shop.

“But God called me into ministry,” he says.

With a business and family to juggle, he didn’t know where to begin.

“That’s when Ellen saw an advertisement. It was in a magazine in the doctor’s office,” he says. “I decided I could get my degree from Freelandia without picking up and moving. That was a miracle how that happened.”

Delmar completed the program, earning a Ph.D. in theology. It was only when the school’s founder, Clark Moore, died in 1995 that Delmar took over as president and moved the school from Minnesota to Virginia to be closer to family.

Moore’s wife, Karen, moved to Broadway, too, and continues to work for the school. Several other faculty are on staff, although most are not in Broadway. They contribute writings printed as tracts and booklets on the school’s own printing press downstairs. 

Difficult Lives

Materials are shipped to every new student, who usually learns about the college through a missionary or other student.

The Shoemakers package three years of study materials at a time — up to 50 books — and mail them across the globe. Most deliveries arrive in three or four months.

It’s a lot of work, but then again, Delmar says, it’s nothing compared to what some students endure.

Just inside the front doors, he’s covered a bulletin board with recent correspondence from students.

“I’ve sat in here many days with tears in my eyes,” he says.

What doesn’t fit on the board is stored in rows of filing cabinets.

Delmar estimates he has some 10,000 letters on file. He reads from one: “God called me to this wilderness to teach …  I used candles to do this course,” wrote Elliot, a student in Ethiopia. He lives on less than $100 a month, Delmar says.

Sometimes, when a student is especially bad off, members of the Freelandia church donate money that the Shoemakers drop into an envelope without a return address. They’ll drive out of town to a new post office and anonymously mail the cash.

“It’s hard to imagine what people go through,” Ellen says. “You just want to help. I remember hearing from one student who walked three weeks to reach a post office.”

That sort of determination, Delmar says, has long humbled him. “I’m blessed to do what I do, to be a part of the Lord’s work,” he says.

The Shoemakers have no plans to retire.

“The Lord uses common, ordinary people like us,” he says. “I like to think God has used us for great things. But I don’t know how many people for sure Freelandia has helped. We’ll never know the answer before we go home to heaven.”

Write a comment