“Jesus called [his disciples] over and said, ‘You know that the rulers of the gentiles lord it over them, and their big people rule over them, but not so among you. If anyone among you wants to be great, let them be your servant, and if anyone wants to be first, let them be your slave, just as the son of man came not be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for multitudes.’” Matthew 20:25-28
“No church shall in any way lord it over another church, and no office-bearer shall lord it over another office-bearer.” The Church Order of the Christian Reformed Church, Article 85
“I’m more Christian Reformed than Al Plantinga.” Patrick Anthony, delegate to Synod 2024 from Classis Central California
Synod 2024 has completed its work, and it was all about lording it over others. Those persuaded that they are right about most everything but especially in matters of sex completed the work they began in 2022 and seized firm hold of the denomination. Ripped it away, as it were, from many who have long been loyal to it and reshaped it in ways that we could scarcely have imagined only a few years ago. Call this new denomination Abide. RIP CRC.
The centerpiece of this synod’s work were the recommendations of Advisory Committee 8. On the key recommendations, the committee split into a majority and minority, but the differences were slight, and the majority prevailed. One of the most discouraging aspects of this synod was that there was little in the way of organized opposition—no minority reports that pushed back on the overall direction of the synod. Voices from the floor opposing the headlong rush to judgement were muted, wistful. One of the delegates spoke of his involvement in the CRC in the past tense. The atmosphere was efficient, expeditious, let’s get this done and go home. RIP CRC.
The recommendations of Advisory Committee 8 were directed to open and affirming churches, churches that welcome members from the LGBTQ community. The recommendations require these churches to “repent,” remove statements “opposed to the teaching of the CRCNA regarding chastity,” and promise not to ordain to church office anyone in a same-sex marriage, not to teach contrary to the CRC position on sexuality, not recognize same-sex marriages, and not to allow their officers (and members?) to serve in any organization advocating a position contrary to the official position of the CRC on sexuality. These recommendations passed in their entirety with crushing majorities.
At the conclusion of Synod 2024, any church not in compliance with these requirements is immediately barred from sending delegates to classis, synod, the Council of Delegates, or any other CRC board. This suspension continues for a year—two if the church “is participating in the process” and their classis approves—after which if the church fails to comply the classis is instructed to remove the council and place the church under the authority of a neighboring council.
These synodical actions are unprecedented. There has been a long, slow debate in the CRC about whether a synod or a classis has the authority to depose a council. Mostly the answer has been yes but only under the direst of circumstances. I was once a part of such an action for a church that was in the process of being taken out of the denomination, basically stolen, by a pastor and his family against the will of the congregation. Even then, we wondered if we had the authority to proceed. Now the synod has moved to depose the councils of multiple churches because they are welcoming the wrong kind of people into membership and into church office—twenty-eight churches according to the reporter for Advisory Committee 8. Twenty-eight churches that must knuckle under to the synod, leave the denomination, or be taken over by hostile action. RIP CRC.
And who will decide whether a church meets the requirements of the synod or not? In my admittedly limited time watching the synodical proceedings I saw no discussion of that detail. Who will function as the ecclesiastical police? Perhaps that is what the synod had in mind when it instructed the Office of the General Secretary to “help classes and churches navigate the process towards repentance and restoration . . . or towards disaffiliation.” See them gently out the door.
Clearly, the synod, for all the pious language about unity, intends to disaffiliate these congregations. The power of the Abide crowd will only grow with the dismissal of dissenting churches. They will not repeat the mistake of the people who left several decades ago to form the United Reformed Church. They are not leaving; they intend to drive out anyone who opposes them. Lording it over, as it were. We fewer people in opposition, the lording gets easier.
The actions proposed by Advisory Committee 8 and adopted by synod interlock with two other sets of actions in what apparently has been a plan to take over the denomination. One of these, notably early to the floor of synod, indicating that it was worked out before synod began, were actions taken to restrict the use of the gravamen (and parallel provisions for Calvin faculty) for those not persuaded that Synod 2022 was right in ruling that it’s interpretation of Question and Answer 108 of the Heidelberg Catechism was confessional.
I’ve written about this before, so I will not dally on the details. In 2022, in response to a report on human sexuality, synod declared that sex between partners of the same gender is morally and biblically wrong regardless. This was nothing new. Since 1973, the denomination has taken the position that same sex attraction is not sinful—you can think it—but same sex is sin—you can’t do it.
But Synod 2022 pushed beyond condemnation of same sex relationships. They declared that their ruling against homosexual sex has confessional status. Confessional status means that anyone holding office in the church is required to subscribe to this synodical declaration against gay sex.
Subscription takes place in the CRC by signing a document called the “Covenant for Officebearers.” One must sign the Covenant, so goes a directive in the Supplement to the Church Order, “without reservation,” declaring that the “doctrines” expressed in the confessions of the church “fully agree with the Word of God.” Now, claimed Synod 2022, those confessions include the declaration homosexual sex is condemned by God.
This some holding office in the CRC could not bring themselves to do so. Not without reservations. Not with the claim that the synodical ruling fully agrees with the Word of God. And so, directed to do so by the Office of the General Secretary and from the floor of synod, they availed themselves of a church order option: the gravamen. A gravamen is a statement, written or not, that one has grave (the etymological origin of “gravamen”) doubts about something taught in the confessions.
Initially the move to make the synodical condemnation of homosexual sex confessional looked like a bit of synodical overreach—an attempt to stifle debate. I took it as such. But in retrospect it looks like a strategy, a trap into which those who hold contrary opinions about same-sex marriage, have fallen. The playbook, known from other right wing takeovers, is to introduce a wedge issue, hold up this wedge issue as a matter of denominational integrity, and then use the wedge issue to drive out from the denomination anyone who differs from those who are trying to gain control. In this case, the strategy has succeeded spectacularly.
Whether planned or not—I try not to be cynical about this—the strategy includes the gravamen. By declaring their doubts—which is what a gravamen does—these office holders in effect outed themselves. And then, perversely, the synod pulled the rug out from under them.
Since 1976, gravamina (plural of gravamen) in the CRC have come in two flavors: the confessional-difficulty gravamen and the confessional-revision gravamen. The first is private and usually informal, a simple notification to your church council that you have some doubts about something or other in the confessions. The second is public and formal. It requires mounting an argument for why the church should change one or more of the confessions. The first is common; the second is rare and never works. At Synods 2022 through 2024, it was only the first that was in play, the confessional-difficulty gravamen.
Synod 2024 played the game of now you see it and now you don’t. Never mind the gravamen terminology—language developed only in 1976 in response to a challenge to the church by a retired professor—the church has long allowed office holders, especially elders and deacons in local congregations, to express their unease with this or that in the confessions. A person comes, say, from a Baptist background to a CRC church. After being part of the church for a while, they are tapped to serve on council. But when the tap comes, the person says to the council, I still struggle some with the idea of infant baptism. I can support the position of the church, but you should know that it is not my position. If that’s okay, I’ll serve. Presented with that sort of “gravamen,” councils have often said, no problem. We would like you to join us.
But no more. To go back to the formal language, the confessional-difficulty gravamen has been redefined by Synod 2024. It’s no longer a virtual asterisk by one’s signature on the Covenant for Officebearers saying that I, the signer, will support the official positions of the denomination as best I can but on this matter—say, the Synod 2022 declaration about the unchastity of homosexual sex—I have reservations. Synod 2024 said that no such virtual asterisks are allowed. A confessional-difficulty gravamen is not, they said, an expression of reservations but a request for instruction so that one can fully embrace the confessions. Oh, and don’t take forever at it, they added. You have at most three years to get your opinions in line with that of the synod or you should leave office.
To these two sets of rulings—the first against dissenting churches and a second against dissenting officebearers, Synod 2024 on its last day added a third: this time against churches and individuals who submitted communications to synod saying that they were members of the CRC “in protest” against the actions of Synod 2022 and 2023. With regard to these, the synod’s action was swift and direct: it declared that by submitting their protests to the synod they had placed themselves under discipline. It did not specify how that discipline was to be carried out.
There was more of this sort of thing at Synod 2024—a new requirement that office holders in the church annually sign the Covenant for Officebearers, a declaration that one’s opinion about same sex relationships is a “salvation issue,” some condescending language to Calvin saying that “Synod leads,” and more—but nothing that quite captured the change effected by Synod 2024 as did an exchange between two delegates about of all things, the prominent philosopher Alvin Plantinga.
Ryan Schreiber, delegate from Classis Grand Rapids East, first mentioned Plantinga, not initially as one of the most prominent Christian philosophers of his generation, but as his Sunday School teacher. He wondered whether the Christian Reformed Church was still the church of Alvin Plantinga.
It was not long before another delegate, Patrick Anthony of Classis Central California, responded. Saying that he had not grown up in the CRC, he said that what made one Christian Reformed was strict adherence to the confessions. He added as a point of emphasis, “I’m more Christian Reformed than Alvin Plantinga.”
The difference between these two illustrates the differences between the CRC of the past and the CRC post-Synod 2024. It’s not that Al Plantinga grew up in the CRC or that he was part of a well-connected CRC family. These are not what make one CRC. But there is something distinctively CRC about Plantinga’s capacious faith, steeped in Reformed tradition but willing to take that tradition in new directions.
Faith seeking understanding, as Anselm of Canterbury put it. Plantinga, along with others, took that old dictum to new levels. Beginning with his faith in Jesus, he sought understanding. And he brought that understanding not only to other philosophers but to the culture, claiming that faith in Jesus in a serious sense makes sense, makes better sense than the alternatives. In arguing this, Al Plantinga and others brought Calvin to prominence.
In contrast Anthony’s definition of what it means to be CRC is based on an orthodoxy test: here, sign off on this, and you are in. That is not faith, not in any biblical sense. It’s like claiming that passing the written driver’s test is the same as driving. Where in that is the love of the Lord, the love of the church—not just the CRC but the great tradition of the church—the love of theology, and the love of the people of God? Where in that is the excitement of theological exploration? Where in that the impulse that led CRC people to develop World Renew? Where in that is Calvin University?
It’s the last that is the great remaining question. Churches, church leaders, thoughtful people with long loyalty to the CRC will leave, are leaving the CRC. RIP CRC. But what of Calvin, already knocked about by the events of the last year, damaged by poor management in the past, and facing a daunting future as a small Christian college? Will Calvin survive as Calvin? For those questions I have no ready answers. For now I’m sad it has come to this. RIP CRC.
Clay