Last Sunday, my congregation voted overwhelmingly to disaffiliate from the Christian Reformed Church. We had already gone through a long process of discernment to get to this point, so there was little tension in the room. We knew what was going to happen. We were ready.

I did not feel sad about casting my vote. I felt ready, even eager: let’s do this. The truth is, I have already done my grieving, probably two years of it, off and on. Also, I realize this was only my church’s first vote; there is another confirmation vote to come, as required by church polity.

Even so, when I got home, I felt the need to do something meaningful to mark this moment of goodbye to the denomination of my heritage. So I went to the basement and found this book, gathering dust between high school yearbooks.

This is the commemorative hundredth-anniversary book for Alpine Avenue Christian Reformed Church, the church in which I grew up. The anniversary occurred in 1981 when I was not quite sixteen years old, and I admit I’ve lugged this book around all my life but not actually read through it—until last Sunday.      

So many dear faces and familiar names! I loved my church. I loved worship, I loved catechism (seriously), I loved my pastor, the gentle and scholarly Rev. Bergsma. I loved my parents’ wide group of church friends, stalwart people who took such attentive care of each other and knew how to have fun, too.

I remember entirely with gratitude this place that formed me in my youthful faith. They were good people, it was a healthy church, and I am grateful for the teaching and example of this dear community. I am grateful for the people who put this book together, too. Not an easy task back when everything had to be typed on typewriters and composited at a printer’s and… ugh, I hate to think of how much archive-searching, photo-finding, subcommittee assigning, and cat-herding went into this book. Folks who did this: I salute you.

I told you I loved catechism. Also, look at that early 80s hair!

Reading through the book yielded some entertaining and at times ominous discoveries. The pages telling the history of the congregation, for example, tell the standard, though wildly reductive story of church history I absorbed as a kid. First there was Jesus, then Acts, then Constantine. And then there was a long and dreadful time of corruption and darkness (the Middle Ages), until finally: the light! Wycliffe, Luther, Calvin, and then… us! The faithful Dutch folk who fled their country for religious freedom.

Pages and pages of materials honor the congregation’s own history. Records and photos of that dreadful fire in 1914, short reflections on a parade of beloved pastors, photos of stern-looking consistories in black suits and handle-bar moustaches, a championship baseball team from 1922, snippets from old bulletins, photos of missionaries supported, and some fussy business about repairing a problematic church bell. The last fifty pages record the entire membership roll in 1981, indexed to genealogies going back to founding members. Not even kidding. If you ever find yourself in need of a vast selection of Dutch names, I have an idea where to look.

Among the more revealing sections occurs early in the book. A half dozen older saints were asked to write reflections on “the Spiritual Health of Alpine.” One gentleman took pains to establish that “a complete disdain for things of the world” was vital to spiritual health. One lady looked back in fondness to the days of large families, close-knit neighborhoods, extensive church activities all week, and (it seems) the limitations of poverty. She worried about growing affluence, sensing that money leads directly to worldliness. She especially called out people “absorbing pagan ways by condoning adultery, abortion, drunkenness, homosexuality, and kindred sins.” She makes it sound as if Alpine Ave was on the verge of becoming a hotbed of debauchery or something. I assure you, this was hardly the case.

One of many charming anecdotes recollected from ordinary church life. Otto Verbeek was the custodian for many years.

Another of the spiritual-health-temperature-takers attempted to offer a more one-hand-other-hand view. He noted how CRC folk seemed to be less legalistic and parochial, more ecumenical, better students of the Bible than in the past. He observed that young people seemed to have a more sincere and genuine faith. (Throughout the book, older folk frequently share recollections of naughty boys getting scolded in the old days for various highjinks.) On the other hand, this person opined that families were falling apart, largely due to the liberties afforded by prosperity and, of course, that nefarious invention: TV.

Overall, the folks writing these reflections worried about maintaining the practices that they felt kept the church healthy and strong: Sabbath observance, the evening service, Bible studies, catechetical preaching, extensive volunteer work for the church. They express considerable dismay for lax church attendance, the distractions of the world such as sports and vacations, and that dreaded “boob tube.”

See the lady in the upper right with the white barrette, holding a small child? That’s my mom holding me.

All this to say, as in every generation, older folks in 1981 worried about the “slide” of the next generation. Worry about sliding and a concomitant tendency toward legalism has always characterized the CRC, but happily I did not labor much under legalism’s yoke in my youth. However, these concerned elders were quite right that affluence had created major cultural changes and that wealth and American life afforded temptations not much available to previous generations. My own parents were extremely faithful people, but they were also fully on board with upward mobility and modern luxuries, TV included. They were genuinely pious, but they also wanted nice things.

Meanwhile, back in 1981, the CRC had not yet fallen much under the influence of a broader White American evangelicalism that has now altered it forever. But the signs were there: changes were afoot. I noticed a bulletin snippet from 1979 advertising the “Walk Through the Bible” program at Alpine (written by Bruce Wilkerson of Jabez fame) as well as a session on James Dobson’s latest parenting book. Not so many years later, Jim Bratt lamented the results of a survey that showed the CRC’s number one theological authority as Charles Colson and their number one ethical guide as James Dobson. As Jim wryly noted, “A felon and an Arminian.” (I refer you to Jim’s salient three-part series on CRC history, published on this blog.)

Here comes Dobson. 1979.

After many years of gaining wider perspectives, I am keenly aware of the deep limitations of that safe, intricately interwoven, insular world. I remember hardly any fuss about Vietnam, or racial justice, or peace-making. We lived in our own White, recent-immigrant, comfortably middle-class bubble. We didn’t even worry all that much about people in our own neighborhood, slowly succumbing to urban decay. “Helping others” was about supporting other congregants through life’s trials and about deploying missionaries, both of which this church did admirably.

I look back in wonder at how I managed to reap all the best and most wonderful things about the CRC and mostly evade the worst wounds that have come to so many others from it. Most importantly to me, I inherited that precious combination of deep faith and intellectual curiosity, a kind of generous faith-seeking-understanding that still characterizes Calvin University and lives on in the life of many congregations and people, whether they are still connected or not to the CRC.

So here we are today, facing the most significant schism in this little denomination’s schismatic history. It’s a tender time. I remember my CRC youth with gratitude and joy, but I can’t go back, and I don’t want to. Things change, and I’m glad.

I grew up in strong community, and I’m deeply grateful that I live in strong community now, too. I am not leaving alone, but with my current congregation and a number of other congregations. We are a remnant, and I pray we will somehow carry forward, by grace, the very best of our inheritance in new and better forms.

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20 Responses

    1. Yes, I think the early death from cancer for Rev. Bergsma (he was only 60 as I recall) had a lot to do with that. Alpine merged with Highland Hills to become Westend CRC and continued in that blended congregation.

  1. I can so relate to the living in a bubble although not in the CRC. What a poignant remembrance leading to a healthy adulthood you share. Glad you saved that book and used it to help you heal.

    “We are a remnant, and I pray we will somehow carry forward, by grace, the very best of our inheritance in new and better forms.” AMEN and again I say AMEN.

  2. Thank you, Debra, for your memories of Alpine Ave. CRC. Though I am generation or more older than you, I too have many fond memories. I was in the 8th grade at Westside Chr. School in 1956 when the church celebrated their 75th Anniversary.
    The young people were encouraged to memorize a passage of scripture for the occasion. The prize was your own copy of the 75th anniversary book. For my age-group, it was the entire chapter of Romans 8. Little did I know then, the wisdom of the church fathers in selecting that chapter. While today, I couldn’t quote the entire chapter, verse 28 and verses 31-37, still stay with me, especially verse 28, that “all things work together for good for those who love God.”

    My mother was a member of Alpine Church nearly her whole life, including when the church merged with Highland CRC to form Westend CRC.

    Otto Verbeek, as you note was the church custodian. His son, Ralph Verbeek, was a lifelong friend of mine.

    My grandfather, Hein Hofstra, whom I never knew, dying in 1925, was a builder. After the church-fire Feb. 12, 1914, the consistory selected him to supervise the renovation and rebuilding. I discovered this fact after reading some of the consistory minutes, which were recorded in the 75th anniversary book. In fact, he is in the picture you posted at the front of your post.

    I too lament the actions of the CRCNA of the last few years, believing it has somehow “lost its way.” I now attend an RCA church in Holland, MI.

    Thanks for allowing me to reminisce a bit, Debra.

  3. This is so wonderful, Debra! I resonate with the awareness that you somehow reaped more of the benefits than the liabilities of your childhood church. I did too and it amazes me, because today I recognize how I would no longer find peace there.

  4. I have the book as well as the 75th anniversary edition. I am a couple of decades older than you are, and I still have such great memories of growing up in that church. Walking from the Leonard and Powers area and picking up friends along the way for Girls Club and Catechism. The room with lots of windows on the second floor with J.T. Holwerda teaching us. Singing in the very large choir as soon as I turned 16 directed by Henry Vander Linde who commuted in from Holland. Making profession of faith with Arthur Hoogstrate and being married in that lovely sanctuary by my father-in-law. I think today one would call it faith formation. We just did what was expected. I moved with my husband to the southeast end of GR and joined his church which back then was pretty much standard procedure. I am still a member of EACRC. We are also in the process of disaffiliating. Our choir anthem for tomorrow is called Room at the Table. A feast for the body and soul for all, even me. Praise God!

  5. Thank you for this walk down memory lane in the CRC. I also appreciate the opportunity to grow up in the covenant community of a CRC. I consider the CRC my spiritual mother. Thus the pain of separation and leaving is real, but I share your confidence that it is right. From my observations, it doesn’t seem that the CRC ever embraced ecumenism. There were several leaders who did, including Peter Borgdorff, but the denomination as a whole seemed to embrace their unique, small, and theologically ‘correct’ place in the world. I experienced the beauty of the world wide church and our ecumenical brothers and sisters in Christ through CICW and also working on the hymnals. I wonder sometimes if the current movement toward protecting their historical roots and doctrines is because the CRC never really expanded their view of the kingdom beyond who they were.

  6. Thank you, Debra, for blending your memories of Alpine Avenue CRC into a thoughtful reflection on how the denomination has changed, and not for the better. I have just finished skimming a long article in NEDERLANDS DAGBLAD about the CRCNA. The attendant photo of current Synodical leaders reveals the backward turn of the denomination: they are all male, all white, and many are young men who chose not to attend our denomination’s seminary. I remember fondly the summer that Ron and you spent with us at 14th Street Church. Alas, it has changed to such an extent that many of us felt that we had to go elsewhere for our spiritual welfare. After nearly 90 years in the CRC and nearly 50 years at 14th Street Church, Lee and I are now happily members at Hope Church (RCA) in Holland.

  7. You have caught the insular up-bringing within the cocoon of the CRC of my childhood. Righteously proud of our heritage and cathecism, culturally upwardly mobile, while preaching the sins of playing cards, attending movies, and smoking. Although you could play Rook, at least according to my parents. My husband and I often wonder how we arrived where we are now: independent voters, uneasy non-compliant CRC members, appalled daily by our country’s leaders as they pull us toward authoritarian rule. So many of our life long friends are still within the bubble, many with whom we cannot discuss politics because they immediately become so intense, accusing us, by their words, of disobeying the Bible, which never changes in their eyes. But, like you, there is that thankfulness for the firm grounding we had and the love for the church that will always remain with us. I’m sure it’s been expressed often, but, I feel that Christ’s leaving us to be the church is the hardest command he left us with and the witness that goes beyond spoken words: if we can’t be Christ to one another within the church, how can we show Christ to anyone outside of it?

  8. Thank you all for sharing your own memories and feelings. The feelings are complex for sure. As I say, this is a tender time. We need much grace and mercy.

  9. The picture of the elders at the beginning of this posting includes my husband’s maternal great-grandfather, Simon Ruster. He is in the 2nd row 3rd from the right wearing a bow tie. So, for our family also, the CRC roots run deep and leaving is painful but necessary. Calvin CRC in Grand Rapids is our home church now and we had our 2nd vote to disaffiliate this past Sunday. BTW, I really dislike the term “disaffiliate” to describe what is, in actuality, being “kicked out.” This (non) choice of leaving did not have to happen, and certainly not in this divisive way.

    Thanks for your thoughtful analysis and reflection. I especially appreciate the line: “….that precious combination of deep faith and intellectual curiosity, a kind of generous faith-seeking-understanding that still characterizes Calvin University and lives on in the life of many congregations and people….”

  10. Thank you, Debra, for this piece on Alpine Ave CRC. For the first 6+ years of my life I lived in that lovely red-brick parsonage, as my father was a minister at Alpine from 1954 to “61. I have so many wonderful memories of the church, the house and its enchanting yard.
    When my brother was born, the seventh child and first son (after six girls!), the Alpine parishioners put up a huge sign in our front lawn
    “Under New Management – Hoogstrate & Son.”
    It was great! Westside GR and Alpine were the best!
    Deborah Hoogstrate Cooney

  11. Debra, I remember when I left the CRC in the mid-60s over the “7 Day Creation vs Science” controversy (I had to watch a dear friend and recent graduate of Calvin Sem retract his morning sermon in which he stated that while the Creation account said the earth was created in six “days” the length of the days wasn’t determined and the Bible wasn’t in conflict with modern science [General Revelation]. I informed the Consistory of that small town CRC congregation [which will remain un-named] that I was leaving the congregation over this.

    I felt lost for a number of years. Became Episcopalian, Lutheran and finally joined a RCA congregation which has left the RCA in the last two years.

    I believe that your congregation and classis are joining RCA Classis of North Grand Rapids. I am sure your congregation will be welcomed with open arms and will be given as much support as it needs. It is a time of reorganization in the RCA that is caused by the same questions that we politely call “issues of human sexuality.” My wife is the current President of the Synod of the Great Lakes and we discuss what is happening to our beloved Reformed Denominations. Your congregation is just one of many going through a period where the Reformed Denominstions are reforming.

    1. Thanks, Kenneth. My congregation has not decided its next steps yet, and probably won’t for a while. A few dozen pastors from the CRC have now joined the RCA classis, but this is for now simply a way for them to retain their credentials to minister Word and Sacrament, as the CRC would otherwise “defrock” them. So the RCA is “holding their credentials,” a very generous gift for which I hear much, much appreciation.

  12. Thank you for this blog that filled me with nostalgia. Also a Westsider (from Highland Hills), I identify with the deep faith and intellectual curiosity that I learned in the CRC. My roots are deep and strong but with the sad division surrounding us, I realize that the roots grow deepest into Jesus Christ and cannot be uprooted from there.

  13. Debra, this is terrific and a gift to those of us with an interest in CRC history at the parish level. I, too, have a copy of this centennial book here at home in Chicago! My maternal great-great-grandfather, Jan Schuitema, joined Alpine in 1890 shortly after arriving in GR from Zeerijp, Groningen (I’ve been there and visited the Jacobuskerk where he was baptized). His name appears in the registry of Alpine members toward the end of the book, which is a chronicle of heirloom quality and treasured as such in my home library.

    As a child of the CRC who became an Episcopalian in 2002, I watched Synods 2022-2024 in horror as someone who had genuinely loved and benefitted from the best of the denomination and its tradition. Consequently, I support those churches who are leaving as “disaffiliation” would seem to be their only option. Just as James Dobson came to the CRC in the late 1970s/early 1980s, it seems that MAGA now has it firmly in its grasp.

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