catapult magazine

I need some help, and many of the names I recognize in catapult are people I respect and know from old classrooms. I’m giving a speech at the Christian Reformed Church’s Sesquicentennial Conference in September of this year. My topic—"Why there will be no bicentennial?" I’m arguing that the demise of the CRC by 2057 in inevitable—and that’s not a joy for me to assert. I want to know what people think.

The Christian Reformed Church has its own problems, of course, but the real monster threats are cultural, geographic, and demographic: 1) all denominations these days are in trouble, even though general interest in things spiritual continues to rise; 2) the average age of CRC (and RCA) members is 55; 3) the denomination’s power is in the rural Midwest, where populations aren’t exactly growing; 4) if people bowl, they bowl alone—established institutions of many types are in jeopardy because of individualism’s immense power; 5) technology is forming new communities; 6) the major battles the CRC fights today are as much political (women’s rights, gay rights) as they are theological (wasn’t always the case); 7) the denomination has been profoundly influenced by "Republican Right," which makes many of its members indistinguishable from most American evangelicals. I could go on.

As hard as it would be for my grandparents to believe, perhaps God in his infinite wisdom, is suggesting that there is little use for denominations in general and the CRC in particular in the new century.

I’d love to know what catapult readers think—will there be a CRC 50 years from now? Should there be? What’s lost? What’s not?

I’ll listen—and just in case any of my ex-students are wondering, none of this will be graded.

I never really pictured myself as the optimistic voice when discussing contemporary Christianity and the CRC, but I guess that’s what I was feeling when I read your questions. I’d like to respond to concern number 6. I’m not at all worried that the focus is becoming more political. In fact, I think that’s [b:407ccbe7f5]one [/b:407ccbe7f5]of the directions we need to go. In the past, the CRC has been a bit too quiet and introspective in the political arena. Lets remember that John Calvin was as much a politician as he was a theologian. For 100 years, the battle cry of the CRC has been "Sphere Sovereignty". I think what we are seeing with the political trends, is Calvinists trying to practically use some of our theology outwardly in the political arena. Though I disagree with some of the stands my denomination seems to be making, I love that we are becoming more vocal. I don’t think we’re trading theology for politics. I think we’re trying to apply theology to politics. And while that may shake the church up a bit, I think it’s a healthy, necessary thing to do if we’re going to be salt and light.

Calvinism as a life-system certainly seems to be more and more attractive to Evangelicals involved in politics, the arts, business etc. I think Bono even claimed somewhere recently to be a Calvinist of sorts. I’d like to find the article where he says it because I’ve been wondering about that for years.

Unfortunately, I’d have to say that many of the people I know personally who are most reformational, i.e. people who act out the theology affirmed in the Christian Reformed Church, do not attend a CRC or, if they do, the church they attend does not strike me as a typical CRC, which is maybe why they go. Such people recognize the wisdom and utility of a Reformed perspective when it comes to the day-to-day life of serving God with their own gifts and abilities. But they don’t see that perspective as belonging to any one denomination.

I am friends with people who have started a multi-denominational church in Chicago. The leaders quote passages from Reformed thinkers like Richard Mouw and Nick Wolterstorff, but the church is made up of people (mostly 20 and 30 somethings) who are Baptists, Mennonites, Activists, Swedish Covenant etc. They really like a high church liturgical worship style with sermons referencing pop culture, but their motive isn’t to show how relevant their church is. When I attend their church, I feel like I’m with a group of people who are honestly helping eachother through the tensions of being in, but not of this world. When I go to many Christian Reformed Churches, I don’t feel this same sense of shared struggle. I do, however, feel it in the CRC I attend, Pullman Christian Reformed Church.

Pullman is unique because it is mostly African-American, not Dutch. My experience at Pullman contrasts sharply with what I read in the denomination’s magazine. When I read the Banner, I routinely get the sense that many people in the CRC are "out of touch" with the real struggles of believers in American culture. It’s not just the women-in-office debate, but the moralistic tone of some articles and reader responses, and a superficial sense of what it means to do God’s work in the world—I saw one article that assumed its readers would be surprised that someone was doing God’s work in Las Vegas, of all places!

Ok, well. I’ve already broken my rule against writing more than three paragraphs in a *cino post. So I’ll take a break. I’ve given my own personal account, but I have additional suspicions about why others aren’t inclined to attend a denominational church, in general. And this is no fault of the CRC.

On a more optimistic note, the end of the CRC could come from external factors like, you know, the end of the world.

And on to another optimistic note, the end of the petroleum era could make the church (including the CRC) more relevant again as we grasp the fragility of civilization as we know it and search for something solid that doesn’t melt into air.

On a pessimistic note, I think grant is relatively optimistic about the future of the world and will not include such things. Better that way anyway. Good luck with your talk! I’m sure people will pay attention.

Here’s an old discussion about whether *cino is Dutch or not that may be germane to this conversation.

I prefer ecuminism as opposed to non-denominationalism for the same reason I like the cultural mosaic metaphor better than the melting pot—it allows for the contribution of unique identities and histories while celebrating unity. I like the way Larry Kamphausen talked about this in an interview he did for [i:b2c29e7eab]catapult[/i:b2c29e7eab]. I’ll copy a portion of his interview below.

I would say I feel as though I’m an active member of multiple denominations—I’m a member of a Lutheran church, but I also maintain (what I like to think are somewhat mutually influential) ties with leadership in the CRC, Baptist, Covenant, Presbyterian, Nazarene and Mennonite denominations—and our parties are always very congenial, by the way. I’ve considered dual membership for when my husband and I find a church to attend in our new home. I don’t want all of these denominations to merge—rather, I would love to see them strengthen their individual denominational vocations and learn from one another’s strengths, working together when appropriate and worshipping in their own unique manners and fostering their own unique cultures while remaining hospitable. Perhaps this reflects a different desire than the denominational loyalty of the past and the somewhat prevalent "strictly back to the Bible" attitude of non-denom folks. Am I part of an oddball minority or do I represent a significant population that denominations should be taking into account?

I think we also need to question whether numbers and average ages are the best measurements of effectiveness. I look at the influence of the CRC and the Mennonites for example, which seems to be disproportionate to their relatively small numbers and aging congregations. I’m also reminded of the words of a friend in relationship to *cino, but I think they also apply to denominations: the capital-C Church is the only institution that is promised to endure. Others may come and go.

Related to the CRC in particular, I think Christian education has a lot to do with informing and perpetuating the existence of the denomination, but Christian ed. is weakened the more this generic American evangelicalism invades. There’s another thread from this discussion board on that topic. I realize this is a problem for all historic denominations: the significant blurring on the edges. I tend to picture churches within a denomination like dots on a map—a few are clustered close to the center of the denomination, but most are somewhere between the core denominational identity and the magnetic pull of pop Christianity. Those in the center are not necessarily stagnant, but they are the ones that maintain a distinct denominational identity and are at the forefront of how their denomination is changing and growing. They are vocal in denominational policy and significantly shape the culture of their denomination. I think of Church of the Servant in Grand Rapids, which is leading the CRC’s shift toward a more liturgical style of worship, which seems to be coming primarily out of Calvin’s worship institute. On the fringes, however, you have congregations that feel more affinity for what they hear on the local Christian radio station and what they see in the local Christian bookstore than they do for what’s coming out of their denominational headquarters.

We chose the name Community of the Holy Trinity out of a belief that common life and community must be grounded in the life of the divine community of the Trinity. The trinity—Father, Son and Holy Spirit—is the true life of all community worthy of the name. In the Trinity we find both perfect relation between persons and a unity that does not obliterate difference. These are characteristics necessary for community and especially intentional community. Intentional community does not work well if one attempts to guard one?s individuality above all else. It also doesn?t work well if the reality of the uniqueness of persons is not recognized and celebrated. A focus on individuality denies that as persons we are who we are in relation to other persons, just as it is impossible to understand and know the person of the Father without understanding the Father?s relation to the Son, and the Father?s relation to the Spirit. So, too, we cannot know and understand the Son with out recognizing that the Son is in part the Son?s relationship to the Father and the Spirit, and so too with the Spirit (which is why the dispute over the addition of the Filioque into the Nicene creed by the West is no idle theological dispute but touches on how we understand the persons of the Trinity). A community or a community leadership that seeks to treat all the same without recognition of the uniqueness of persons attempts to attain unity through the denial of difference. This is itself a denial of personhood as our personhood in relation is based on difference and otherness from other persons. A proper understanding of the Trinity shows us the perfect balance between unity and difference in a differentiated unity.

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Thanks for giving *cino folks a chance to weigh in on this issue, Dr. Schaap. I certainly have my share of opinions on the CRC and its potential demise, but I’ll try to keep my post focused.

Although I agree that powerful external forces related to postmodernity have significantly weakened religious institutions in general and the CRC in particular, I believe that the survival of the denomination depends largely on internal factors. I would not be surprised if the denomination did not exist in 50 years, and given my experience in various CRC congregations I meet the decline with mixed feelings. On one hand I have been pretty disappointed with what I perceive to be the denomination’s current trajectory, but on the other I feel that the CRC is uniquely poised to play an important role in the church and the world. And I believe that the CRC’s survival as a denomination depends at least in part on whether it has anything important to offer to the religious landscape.

Historically, the Christian Reformed Church has often managed to straddle the divide between mainline and evangelical Christianity. As the chasm between "liberal" and "conservative" Christians continues to grow, alienating many (especially members of Gen X and Y) in the process, the CRC has the unique opportunity to speak prophetically into the divide with a reformational vision. At its best, the Reformed tradition presents a compellingly holistic gospel, tears down the problematic divide of sacred/secular, offers an inspiring call to justice and peace, and reconciles heart, mind, and hands. I am convinced that many people in our generation, both inside the church and elsewhere, are crying out for such a vision. Turned off by the exclusivistic/pietistic/judgemental/individaulistic/jingoistic/literalistic/escapist/imperialistic (need I go on?) rhetoric they get from the right and the uninspiring shrug from the left, they are looking for something more compelling. Though the CRC is certainly not alone in its propensity to introduce people to faith they can get excited about, it could be a viable part of a growing and exciting movement.

Unfortunately, however, this is not what I see happening. At the margins of the denomination are people who are getting excited about taking care of the earth, fighting racism and poverty, welcoming the stranger, renewing liturgy, inculturating the faith in a postmodern context, bringing faith to bear in all aspects of life, and in general incorporating themselves in the narrative of the gospel. The vast majority of CRC congregations, institutions, and individuals, on the other hand, seem instead to be intent on either parroting mainstream evangelicalism or resurrecting a doctrinairian and insular version of the Reformed faith from a bygone era. If the denomination as a whole continues to pursue either of these trends, it is bound for failure. On the first count, the CRC simply cannot compete. Why do badly what a host of other churches do well? Very few communities in North America lack for Willow Creek style Bible churches and their derivatives (many of whom are also denominational churches that have lost their distinctiveness), and CRC people just don’t tend to be as good at evangelistic Super Bowl parties, Purpose Driven Life Sunday school classes, and CCM laser light shows. Moreover, some research indicates that the Bible church model is no longer fairing so well. Like the CRC, many mainstream evangelical churches are comprised mostly of baby boomers and struggle to recruit the under-40 crowd. On the second count, the denomination has more of a chance of survival if it pursues the doctrinairian model, but only as a small fundamentalist sect. As North Americans of Dutch Reformed background continue to assimilate, the CRC will be able to retain only the most die-hard of its children if it insists on weekly preaching from the Catechism, males-in-gray-suits-only consistories, and thoroughly modernist epistemology. For the non-Dutch, there are plenty of other fundamentalist churches to choose from, so why be an ethnic fundamentalist in someone else’s ethnic ghetto.

While it is true that spirituality is increasingly uncoupled from religion, that institutions in general have lost salience, and that individualism is a powerful cultural force, I still think that organized religion will continue to exert influence well into the future. We are in many ways a post-theological culture. And I don’t think that is all bad. The Reformation arose out of a particular set of historical circumstances, and the circumstances which we confront raise different questions and call for a different set of answers. The fact that major battles underway in the CRC are ?political? rather than ?theological? doesn’t disturb me. Issues of ethics, organization, and justice are just as spiritual as issues of systematic theology. Despite the weakening importance of theology and the growing importance of politics to religious identity, institutions still have a role to play. The church itself is not disappearing. Nor are particular ?brands? of Christianity?even if denominationalism as we know it is in a state of decline. We are communal creatures who yearn to share, grow, and fellowship with others, especially around our deepest values. We are also boundary-creating creatures. As a number of sociologists argue, ecumenical efforts are in some ways doomed to fail because they attempt to eliminate the ?other.? Strong group identity depends upon a sense of being distinct from everybody else.

The CRC has the resources and potential to offer a distinct and prophetic voice to the rest of the church and to culture. It has the opportunity to model servanthood and bring healing to a broken world in a unique way. To do this, it need not be elitist, enclaved, or culturally/ethnically homogeneous. In fact, all of these tendencies have seriously impeded the effectiveness of the church’s witness, in my estimation. My husband and I don’t go to a CRC church right now, largely because our faith trajectory doesn’t seem to be in step with the beat of the CRC drum. There are many people like me who were raised in the CRC but no longer find ourselves at home in the denomination. Though I’m sure the denomination’s inability to retain its youth is troubling to its leaders, I hope they find solace in the fact that most of us continue to identity ourselves as disciples of Jesus. I have hope that the CRC will embrace the aspects of its tradition that could breathe new life into the church and meet needs in the world. I have hope that the denomination will reform and thrive. I even have hope that some day we could proudly belong to a CRC. But if none of this comes to fruition, as others have said, I trust that the church itself will endure and that within it somewhere will be a place for each of us.

Interesting thread.

I want there to be at least one voice weighing in for the yea column, so here goes. I was at the Calvin Symposium on Worship a few weeks ago and saw a surprisingly high number of Dordt pals and acquaintances there. Sure, there were the graysuits and a good many from other denominations, but the number of CRC 20-somethings that I saw reassured me.

I liked a lot of what Janel said…except for the bit about how the spiritual trajectory of her and her husband is not in step with the current CRC. I know that they have a perfectly good CRC not but 5 minutes from their house (jab jab). But really I think that says something about many of us in the *cino generation. We have been brought up in a Reformed way and are beginning to let this grow in new and interesting ways. We are discussing all those wonderful things that Janel was talking about that exist on the fringes of the denomination. But we are either too afraid or not empowered enough by our elders to realize that our interpretation of an ever changing culture through the worldview they gave us is worth something. In other words, we discuss on the web instead of entering our traditional churches and changing the trajectory of the church.

But, as I said, I think this empowering is beginning to happen. I hope it is. I love the CRC and am active in it. I think our tradition, as Janel said, has something important to offer the larger generic Christian culture. Living on the East coast, you start to understand the importance of distinguishable roots as well. Honoring our fathers and mothers means not squandering the gifts they give us. But I also want to reiterate with everyone else that we must remain distinctive in order to have anything to offer.

Be honest, Dr. Schaap, did you start this thread just to challenge our generation to keep the CRC alive? Or were you perhaps wondering if another of our cherished institutions will make it to its next jubilee?

I want to clarify a bit by posing a question.

As children of the CRC, is our relationship with the mother ship one of necessary belonging? Do we need to take our denomination more seriously? Should we be more apt to change OUR church as opposed to finding a new church?

I want to thank you all for your comments, not only because I find them helpful and instructive, but also because I’ve enjoyed hearing voices I’ve not heard for awhile. My intention in posting this question—as I announced—was simply to gather some information, not to engage in some spirited debate and certainly not to affix grades :D . However, I thought I’d just say a few things.

Norbert says: "Though I disagree with some of the stands my denomination seems to be making, I love that we are becoming more vocal. I don’t think we’re trading theology for politics. I think we’re trying to apply theology to politics. And while that may shake the church up a bit, I think it’s a healthy, necessary thing to do if we’re going to be salt and light."

The church (universal) has had problems determining its relationship to politics at least since the disciples, when Jesus said to be sure to give Caesar what he had coming, which didn’t make the question any easier. I’m not sure what flavor politics Norbert is talking about here, but it seems clear that evangelicals have been significantly mobilized since Reagan, and especially since George W Bush’s two terms. Whether or not that will continue is itself an interesting question and something just about everyone is watching these days as none of the three leading Republican Presidential candidates have quite the right stuff. Should Bush’s Iraqi surge be successful, perhaps his Presidency can be salvaged; but things aren’t looking good. He was, of course, a champion of many evangelicals. Will his problems make some Christians disillusioned with public life or greater interest in politics? Who knows?—but what seems clear is that things won’t remain the same as they were six years ago.

I’m not sure what flavor of political involvement Chris is touting here, but what’s clear is that not all Christians (even within the CRC) agree about what flavor of political action is necessary or desirable. But evangelicals do change (as they have vis-a-vis the environment—did you all hear Cal De Witt on [i:164cbdd004]Speaking of Faith[/i:164cbdd004] last month?). It does seem clear, however, that the CRC is quite unified in its political views today because many, many CRC members have adopted a political platform that begins with issues connected with abortion, issues of life. In terms of the future of the denomination, that may be good in that it shows a body quite unified. But it may be difficult in that the denomination’s political views are really the same as social issue Republicans—and hence no different than many millions of evangelical Christians. Corwin Smidt, et al, in [i:164cbdd004]Divided by a Common Heritage[/i:164cbdd004] (if you’re interested, a really enjoyable study) argue that nothing may be more hazardous to the health of what they call the Reformed heritage than its own wholesale absorption into the evangelical world.

Grant brings the word "reformational" into the discussion, a word that many, many members of the denomination probably wouldn’t recognize. My own feeliing is that as a denomination we have a right to exist independently only inasmuch as we offer something worthwhile to the great cultural discussions. I would also say that the unique contribution of the CRC, through the years, is "worldview" in general, and Kuyper in particular. Grant’s story about that church he knows where Mouw and Wolterstorff are quoted (BTW, have you heard Wolterstorff’s interview on the last Mars Hill?) is not unusual. Philip Yancey told me years ago already that he thought the CRC had a far, far greater influence on American Christianity than its own small numbers. I don’t think there’s any doubt on that score. Grant’s discussion of Pullman as a church that understands "struggle" is interesting, but I’m guessing, as he maintains, that most American churches (not to mention CR churches) wouldn’t identify or define themselves that way—that is, with that word. Might that change? I don’t know.

I’m not sure how to take Dan’s comments vis-a-vis the end of the world. Apocalypse is hot these days, of course (McCarthy’s new novel, [i:164cbdd004]The Road [/i:164cbdd004]is a terrific read, a book you won’t forget, by the way). And I’m quite sure that at almost every era of Christian history many believers were sure the end was close (my mother is sure too).

Aside from that, however, what Dan suggests is probably more true than he might guess. The CRCs power areas have often been in the rural Midwest, where people aren’t dying to live. This gets corny but hang on—should ethanol become an important means by which the US frees itself from the shackles of foreign oil, this whole region may boom in a way that no one could have guessed.

Dan’s absolutely right in suggesting that mucho bigger things may change drastically in the future as some cultural trends die and others arise. Oddly enough, even as the whole mega-church, independent church thing has grown, there has been a very vital "return" to basics, to established traditions. If that’s true, then it’s entirely likely that some of you may find yourselves studying Calvin in ways that you never guessed you might. Hmmmm.

Kirstin’s appreciation for different traditions is something lots of sociologists of religion say characterize your generation particularly—a penchant for what some call "cafeteria Christianity." And, inasmuch as I think she and Rob are moving soon (if they haven’t already) to a city in west Michigan, I’m quite sure that she’s going to find there a wide variety of congregations within the denominational family. In a way, what she’s talking about is already happening. Shoot, there are now five CR churches in the little town where I live; each of them different. The tough question is not only how wide can we stretch, but also how wide can we stretch and still be connected?

Her comments also prompt the question of "should"? Might we say that the Christian Reformed Church played a vital role in a certain people’s lives—Dutch-Americans, Dutch-Canadians—during their transition into American life, but now, like all ethnic churches, it will (and should) simply pass away? Perhaps God, in his great plan for his people, gave the denomination a mission that is now complete.

She also brings up Christian education, which has been, as she says, very significant in denominational life and history. Christian schools may well have made the CRC more insular, but they’ve also kept it together—and they’ve kept us thinking. An ex-[i:164cbdd004]Banner[/i:164cbdd004] editor, Andy Kuyvenhoven, once wrote that he never felt more inspired than when he’d have to speak at Christian school conventions because Christian school teachers really wanted to "be" Christian in their classrooms (in the interest of full disclosure, I’m a Christian school teacher).

That those Christian schools would be affected by a drift toward the evangelical right is understandable, of course. For those of us who really treasure the adjective "reformed," that drift is a loss.

Janel’s post is at once optimistic and pessimistic. I’m blessed by a ton of what she says, and I’m glad that she acknowledges the truth of what all of this suggests—that the denomination which gave most all of you birth offered something vitally strong to each of you somewhere along your various “trajectories.” What she says echoes what most of you do—and what I feel: that unless the CRC offers something unique in the constellation of Christian evangelical fellowships in this culture, it really has no future, nor should it. What all your posts illustrate—and what Janel’s nicely documents—is that it can, it has, and it could continue to. Will it? Ah, there’s the question.

It seems to me that people adjust to what seem new worlds by doing one of three things: by simply disowning the past, by accommodating changes thoughtfully and slowly, and by building a fortress and staying inside. Some parts of the CRC will do and have been doing all of the above. As for me, at least one old definition of “reformed” is, as you know “ever reforming.” By my estimation it’s vital and life-giving.

“We are in many ways a post-theological culture,” Janel says. “And I don’t think that is all bad. The Reformation arose out of a particular set of historical circumstances, and the circumstances which we confront raise different questions and call for a different set of answers.”

That too is interesting stuff. I have a friend who claims that the history of Christianity shows that just about every 500 years or so, God almighty simply changes the playing field. And while he never really tosses the players, he re-creates the way we play the game. That friend claims that in a Christian world that is post-theological, beauty may be the new medium by which he calls his own. In a way, I feel it in myself. Some of my own most treasured moments in the last five years have happened, all by my lonesome, in an environment most of you know—this particular fly-over, emerald edge of the Great Plains where I live, the open land and the big sky that crowns it, where God, day unto day, really never stops preaching (Psalm 19). I’d show you pictures, but I don’t know how to get them on the post :( .

Anyway, I’ve recently celebrated my 59th birthday. I’m indelibly stamped with a Sixties mentality, a true boomer. As the ancient among ye, it’s been good to hear y’all hold forth because my generation is about ready to play shuffleboard, if it hasn’t already started. And the positions of leadership in whatever denomination we bequeath you all, and within its institutions, will soon be passed to our sons and daughters. Like Laramy, I’m as reassured by your responses as he was by the worship conference at Calvin. Like Laramy, I once found myself in a place where, for the first time in my life, distinguishable roots were something I longed for. When I did, I came back—in my case to the CRC (I had been outside church doors for several years) and Dordt College (geesh! how much more tribal can one get!).

Regardless of what happens to the CRC and each of you, I am thankful that I feel in your responses, as well as in this medium, a deep commitment to what I think both you and I mean by the word “reformed.”

Blessings,

jcs