Dutch culture vs. the confessions

Abide's post-Synod 2024 narrative relies on a false dichotomy.

Synod 2024 was historic. As with any historic event, there’s an attempt to frame how it happened and what it means.

The adage that history is written by the winners is true, and it’s especially true in the CRC right now.

The losers certainly aren’t writing it:

• affirming churches and office bearers are either focusing their energy on the complex process of disaffiliation and whatever comes next;

• moderates are hunkering down and keeping quiet.

Public processing is not happening equally everywhere, but where it is happening, it’s taking a distinct form.

The emerging Abide narrative: Dutch culture vs. confessions

Many of those on the right—the winners—have begun framing the conversation of recent years in terms of a Dutch culture vs. confessions dichotomy. The framing is not universal, but it’s also not infrequent. It tells a story of two sides, only one of which can win:

Side 1 of the narrative: Affirming churches and individuals hold their positions because they have relaxed their confessional convictions. Their fidelity to the CRC is grounded less on belief and more on culture: they love their Dutch heritage, their multi-generational participation and leadership in the CRC, and so on. They either base their position on this heritage, or this heritage serves as an excuse to hold an extreme belief.

Side 2 of the narrative: On the other hand, traditional churches and individuals hold their positions because their convictions are based on the confessions rather than a kind of cultural heritage. On this basis, Synod 2022 decided “unchastity” as it appears in Heidelberg Catechism Q&A 108 prohibits same sex activity, and that this decision has confessional status. Synod 2024 further clarified that disagreement with the confessions on this or any other issue means individuals cannot as office-bearers in the CRC.

This Dutch culture vs. confessions narrative appeared on the floor of Synod 2024. In a floor speech, Israel Ledee said:

“I'm in the CRC, not because I like Dutch culture, not because I like wooden shoes, but because I love your confessions.”

And though Patrick Anthony’s quip about Alvin Plantinga was the defining moment of Synod, we ought not forget the first part of the sentence:

“I'm not Dutch and I'm more Christian Reformed than Alvin Plantinga.”

Both speeches imply that affirming delegates hold their positions—and Ledee and Anthony hold traditional positions—either because affirming delegates ground their positions in something like cultural heritage, or because their appreciation of their heritage obscured their ability to make a sound judgment.

This narrative has dominated post-Synod sense-making on the right. In late July 2024, Abide published an article by Curtis Meliefste entitled A Birthright Church or a Confessional Church? that fleshes out the framing:

“By birthright CRC, I refer to those who define their “Christian Reformed-ness” by their generational heritage, attendance in SWIM, AOYC, Calvin University, Redeemer, etc. You might have made or likely have heard these claims. In a positive sense, these are amazing testimonies of the legacy of a denomination. I typically enjoy hearing them and rejoice in how God has worked through generations and institutions to minister to His people. However, our membership in the CRC (and the Kingdom of God) is not a birthright. Just because your grandparents planted a church and you graduated from Calvin University does not automatically make you Christian Reformed. The alternative (confessional CRC) are those who are Christian Reformed because of what the CRC believes and how she functions--our ‘Reformed accent’ if you will. It is not enough to just be Reformed; if one is Reformed, there is a cornucopia of church options that fit that bill. To be Christian Reformed has some specifics: our doctrine, accent, standards, church government, will and ability to engage the world, etc. Those who are willing to make their membership vows and/or sign the Covenant of Officebearers (CfO) without reservations or exceptions are those who make up the ‘confessional CRC.’ They understand what the CRC is, what she believes, and they want to participate and be bound by the same doctrinal standards.”

Aaron Vriesman captures this idea in his Synod 2024 report:

“Synod 2024 was a clash of two competing visions of the Christian Reformed Church in North America. One sees the CRC defined by its heritage and history. The other sees the CRC defined by its beliefs from Scripture as described in the creeds and confessions. This is the current tension in the CRC…. In the end, churches do not survive by a common heritage. Where we come from is not necessarily the same as where we are going. Churches survive by having shared beliefs and values. Synod 2024 upheld this vision for the CRC. Whether or not you were born and raised CRC, baptized or educated CRC, if you stand where we stand, we are glad to have you!”

Then, here’s this from a Classis Minnkota Synod 2024 report at Bethel CRC in Edgerton, describing those who hold affirming positions:

“They don't actually believe what the denomination believes. They rest all of their arguments on—‘I grew up in the CRC, my grandparents were in the CRC, so this is what I was taught as a child, not this is what the Bible says or this is what our creeds and confessions say. This is what my parents, grandparents, or great-grandparents said, and this is how I was taught growing up’—and there was no understanding of what the Bible actually says.”

Finally, here’s what Michael Bently said at the Abide Project convention in August at Dordt University:

“It was never, for some people, about biblical identity. It was cultural. The traditionalists were on the side of Wilhemenia mints and whose-ever grandfather built First CRC in Wherever. And I learned through that argument of people saying how—‘I’ve always had acceptance in this denomination, how dare you kick me out, I grew up here, I was baptized here, I graduated from this Christian school… how dare you say my acceptance in this denomination is no longer needed’—for those who were standing by an open and affirming position. Through that, I learned that no matter how orthodox my faith was I would never be CRC enough for them. And that was a big revelation.”

Thus, according to this Dutch culture vs. confessions frame, Synod 2024 represented a triumph of the confessions over Dutch culture. In doing so, it offered a correction—a return to what it really means to be CRC: a confessional denomination. The affirming churches tried to take the denomination in a new direction; the traditional churches stopped them; and the way traditional churches did this was by appealing to the confessions.

The Dutch-heritage narrative isn’t accurate

So this dichotomy—Dutch culture vs. confessions—has become an important part of the CRC right’s post-Synod narrative.

But it’s not accurate.

To begin to understand why, we need to bring together three ideas I’ve articulated elsewhere.

1. Denominations preserve history

First idea: one of the main functions of denominations, insofar as they are institutions,¹ is to connect the past with the present. In a previous post, I wrote:

“Denominations connect the past with the present and the future. We appeal to history all the time. We’re part of a larger story. Reminding ourselves of this is part of who we are.”

All institutions do this, and denominations do this better than most institutions—and the CRC does this better than most denominations.

2. Denominations preserve norms

Second idea: another function of denominations as institutions is to preserve norms.

Here’s Cristina Bicchieri’s definition of a norm:

“A social norm is a rule of behavior such that individuals prefer to conform to it on condition that they believe that

• (a) most people in their reference network conform to it (empirical expectations) and

• (b) that most people in their reference network believe they ought to conform to it (normative expectations).”

In the CRC, norms are the unspoken, unwritten ways we operate. A norm is not (just) the belief we’re totally depraved; a norm is why everyone laughs when a committee reporter jokes that his presentation isn’t working because his laptop is totally depraved. As with norms in any institution or denomination, such norms are not good or bad, right or wrong, conservative or liberal, Dutch or non-Dutch, confessional or non-confessional. They are the neutral ways we have collectively decided to operate and understand each other, either intentionally or unintentionally.

The second part of Bicchieri’s definition of a norm—“that most people in their reference network believe they ought to conform to it”—is important, because it gets at the idea of collective action and the concept of common knowledge. I’ve written elsewhere:

“The CRC has its own set of customs and norms beyond what’s found in church order. It’s the stuff we might call ‘culturally CRC,’ like playing Dutch bingo or joking about Google Docs being totally depraved at Synod 2023. These are the unspoken and spoken ways that we have collectively decided to interact together. These rules cannot be broken.”

It’s not just that everyone knows the norm, it’s that everyone knows everyone knows the norm. That’s why they work. And they have worked.

3. Grand Rapids at the center of the institutional network

Third idea: in the postwar decades, Grand Rapids emerged as the center of the denomination.

“For years, Dutch immigrant enclaves at the edge of the denomination sent their ‘best and brightest’ (PVK’s words) students to Calvin for study—men to be pastors and women to be teachers…. They came for preaching conferences at Calvin Seminary, the Stob lectures, and reunions. It was often where study committees and standing committees met. The Board of Trustees, back when it was called that, met in Grand Rapids. Denominational publishing—and most CRC authors—lived in Grand Rapids. Curriculum, hymnals, and The Banner were all published in Grand Rapids…. Thanks to agglomeration effects and economies of scale, it was easier to build secondary institutions in Grand Rapids…. By the 1980s, Grand Rapids was at the center of a vast network of 1000+ churches located in Dutch enclaves throughout North America. From all corners of the denomination, its schools, denominational agencies, and institutions drew people in and sent them back out.”

Proximity to the CRC’s institutional center—geographic, intellectual, and otherwise—generated positive benefits for as long as the Circulatory System could be maintained.

Affirming CRCs and institutional proximity

Let’s tie these three separate ideas together—(1) that one function of denominations, insofar as they are institutions, is preserving historical memory; (2) that another function of denominations, insofar as they are institutions, is to establish and preserve norms; and (3) that churches nearer to the CRC’s institutional center are more efficient at both preserving history and following norms compared to churches at the periphery, simply by virtue of their proximity to the center of the network and their ability to take advantage of the agglomeration efficiencies that comes with this position at the center.

Churches near the CRC’s institutional center are more likely to tie their collective identity to the CRC’s history than churches at the periphery. It’s not because they love their heritage more than the confession or because they ground their positions in their heritage. It’s simply because they’re closer to the CRC’s center. This proximity necessarily generates two things among these churches:

1. An appreciation for institutional history: because one of the functions of an institution is to preserve history, close proximity to the center of the CRC generates an above-average appreciation for the CRC’s cultural and theological history—including its Dutch heritage—relative to churches further away from the CRC’s institutional center.

2. A conservative approach to institutional norms: because norms are stronger near the center, churches are more likely to make assumptions and operate using reliable processes in ways that have led, at least historically, to outcomes consistent with what it means to be CRC.

When Neland Avenue CRC ordains a deacon, or Eastern Avenue CRC baptizes the child of a same-sex couple, or Sherman Street CRC posts an affirming statement on its website, they are doing so because they have reached the endpoint of a process of discernment no different from the same processes 1) they’ve always used (2) that have always worked; and (3) that the rest of the denomination has historically aligned with. In this way, the trajectory these churches have taken is neither caused by a neglect of the confessions nor caused by an appreciation for heritage.

Moreover, they are less likely to deviate from the established way of doing things because of their proximity to the institution. For more than a hundred years, their way of being church has consistently been in alignment with (and helped define) the cultural and confessional identity of the broader CRC. In reaching the outcomes they did, they could point to the years-long process of discerning matters of human sexuality as no different from the way of being church that articulated the CRC’s position on common grace; generated Louis Berkhof’s Systematic Theology; or any other number of outcomes that have been acknowledged as distinctly CRC.

Thus, you can hear echoes of surprise in Neland’s response to the in loco committee report to Synod 2023:

“We love the CRC and have been a faithful, productive, and generous member for 106 years… Throughout our entire history we have participated at every level of denominational life. Neland is thoroughly Reformed in theology, worship, ecclesiology, world and life view, and mission in the world…. Neland Church does nothing with haste or on a whim or to be trendy.”

Here is what I hear in statements like this: Our way of being CRC has not changed and has never been a problem, and now it’s led us to reach this conclusion.

Trish Borgdorff’s farewell at Synod 2024 captures some of this sentiment:

“I grew up as the daughter of a pastor, and later as an administrator in the CRC. For much of his life, this church was his deepest love. It was our home in the truest sense of the word. The church shaped me in my faith. I’m grateful for all of it. And that makes this process particularly painful. My church home, Eastern Avenue CRC, has been on the corner of Eastern and Logan in Grand Rapids for almost 150 years. We have been imperfect yet faithful in serving God and his people. At Eastern we have loved and been committed to the ministry of the CRC.”

Those who hold affirming positions do not “define their CRC-ness by their generational heritage” or “rest their arguments” on it any more than those who hold the traditional view do. What Trish Borgdorff says is not materially different from, for example, what Herb Schreur says when he tells Paul Vander Klay that his “great-grandfather… was involved in founding that church and my dad and his two older siblings were baptized there.” Nobody—affirming or traditional—believes for a second his heritage causes or justifies or grounds the traditional view of human sexuality Herb stands for. Disaffiliating churches ought to be extended the same courtesy, because they don’t either.

Dutch heritage is one of many things mourned when an individual is removed or a church is forced to disaffiliate. There’s a sadness to starting over, of not building on the faithful work of those who came before.

There’s grief in separation.

How did we get here?

In the years leading up to around 2010, the CRC Circulatory System stopped circulating, and the benefits of being near the center of the CRC’s institutional network in Grand Rapids became a handicap rather than a strength. Since 2010, this has meant two things:

1. Those at the center continued to rely on institutional ways of getting things done (with good outcomes!), even while those at the periphery began getting things done in more efficient, effective grassroots ways. (Exhibit A: Abide and Returning Church are loose organizations with basically no budget or hierarchy, while Better Together’s budget and staff are a lot more than zero. This isn’t a good or bad thing; it just reflects historically different ways of getting things done at the center vs. the periphery of the denomination.)

2. These two ways of getting things done—one at the center using institutional means; the other at the edges using grassroots, quasi-official, affinity-group-centered means—began operating more and more in isolation from one another, which caused a kind of myopia to develop at the center about what was really happening in the rest of the denomination.

In failing to spot this shift since 2010, the CRC Left and the CRC Right each made a big mistake:

• The CRC Left’s mistake has been either accidental ignorance of or purposeful unwillingness to come to terms with the CRC Right’s rejection of the way of being and doing church near the CRC’s institutional center.

• The CRC Right’s mistake has been to confuse Dutch-culture-identity as a source for belief and practice rather than as an unrelated, parallel phenomenon that exists solely by virtue of institutional proximity—a proximity that has, in other ways, served the CRC very well for most of its history. This mistake caused them to make a second mistake in misdiagnosing the causes, sources, and grounds for those in the CRC who hold affirming positions.

Confessional primacy creates a false either-or

The bigger mistake the CRC Right made—and continues to make—is giving the confessions a kind of primacy they’ve never had and, for good reasons, shouldn’t have. Misunderstandings aside, there are two significant problems with the Dutch heritage vs. confessional dichotomy:

First, it’s an inaccurate and misleading frame. The question of “Do you operate from a confessional position or do you ground your beliefs in your Dutch heritage?” puts two things in opposition that have nothing to do with each other.

Like this:

1. Do you wear comfortable shoes or fashionable shoes? (It’s possible for shoes to be both.)

2. Are you a team player or just selfish? (There are lots of ways to interact with people, and the best way is usually context dependent.)

3. Do you support local businesses or do you want to see our small town’s economy destroyed? (Local economies are complex.)

4. Are you going to buy me Uggs or do you want me to be a social pariah? (Parents of middle schoolers know what I’m talking about…)

5. Are your convictions about human sexuality grounded in the confessions or in your Dutch heritage and identity? (*Facepalm*)

Second, a confessional-identity vs. non-confessional-identity binary is never how the CRC has understood itself. Behind the Dutch heritage vs. confessional dichotomy is an assumption about the role and function of the confessions in the denomination that’s incorrect. The most problematic part of the way the right has framed the debate is that this false binary casts aside a more nuanced—and accurate—way the CRC has historically understood both itself and the confessions.

I’ll save that for the next post.

Kent

1. Denominations are not only institutions—that would be a too-narrow ecclesiology—but because they are institutions, what we know about how institutions work in general can help us understand how denominations work insofar as they are institutions.