Hello again, Ron!
Thanks for getting in touch about Debra Rienstra’s wonderful post in this space last Saturday. It is indeed a poignant reflection on the good side of “growing up CRC,” and that’s an important thing to remember as she and I and a lot of other readers of this blog bid a forced farewell to that denomination.
“Baggage”
In such circumstances, it’s tempting to give in to anger and frustration, and it’s all too easy to remember the negative side of the Christian Reformed subculture, a.k.a. “bubble”: tribalism, self-righteousness, smugness, dogmatism, patriarchy, racism. . . the list can go on and on. And, with Debra, I and many other “disaffiliators” are eager to move on and hang out with new ecclesiastical friends. But it’s an illusion to think that we’re going to enter those circles without baggage. And it’s also wrong to dismiss “baggage” as a bad thing.
The word certainly carries that connotation. Baggage means the stuff we try to unpack and get beyond in therapy. It’s what we have to watch out for in entering a new relationship. But (here’s the old immigration historian in me coming out) it can also refer to some precious cargo that we can contribute to enrich our new home. Immigrants have been, and continue to be, the lifeblood of America, and more recently of Canada too, and not only because of their labor but also because of the cultural traditions they bring along into their new country. There’s plenty of propulsion in the USA toward the bland conformity of McDonalds. Thank immigrants that we have a more savory stew instead.
Six Good Things
So what are some of the virtues that those of us who are leaving can take into whatever new church network we might enter? What are the positives that you and I and Debra and many others remember, even treasure, from having grown up CRC? I covered some of this ground in a three-parter I posted here last year, and I don’t want to rehearse all that again. It’s also hard for me to see the matter afresh because I’ve been mulling these things over for fifty years, ever since I started research on my doctoral dissertation. So I decided to ask a range of family and friends for their perspective. I’ve heard back from about thirty of them—not a huge or scientifically representative sample, and skewed toward academics and church leadership types, but a thoughtful, perceptive group nonetheless.
They came up with a pretty consistent refrain that’s woven together of six distinct themes: (1) a God-centered, communal piety; (2) a robust confessional theology; (3) a high esteem for education and the life of the mind; (4) a holistic sense of God’s redemption and the Christian’s calling; (5) a deliberative style of governance; and (6) a triple-S collective character—stalwart, sober, and sacrificial.
A Caveat or Two
The list is too long to cover in one post or even two, so I’m afraid you’re doomed to another three-parter. That will take us into June when the CRC Theobros in Synod Assembled will celebrate the cleansing of their temple of lepers like me. As my tone right there suggests, unpacking baggage can draw us into snide comparisons, to set off “our” best virtues over against “their” worst defects, landing us in the very smugness and self-congratulation I just lamented. Maybe that’s the price to be paid for focusing on a group’s virtues while bracketing its vices. It’s important at every step, then, to remember that any set of baggage contains trash as well as treasure; more ominously, that the virtues and vices very often come intertwined. Still, let’s proceed.
Piety
I discussed Reformed piety at length last year, so I’ll try to minimize the repetition. When I taught at the University of Pittsburgh, evangelical students would ask me “when I gave my heart to the Lord.” Well, there was no particular moment, I replied—to their shock and dismay; rather, I was nurtured in the care and counsel of the church, wove around through seasons of questioning and doubt and finally settled into the faith, which turned out to be stronger for the doubting. Besides, I added, I didn’t give my life to the Lord; just the opposite. Calvinist election, don’t you know.
As to their next question, about my “daily walk with the Lord,” I replied—as have many respondents to my recent questionnaire—that Reformed people tend to think instead of “our life of service to the Lord.” First person plural, not singular. Life—the long run—not daily temperature-taking. And service—more walk, less talk—with and for others.
In short, Reformed piety gravitates toward the communal, not the individual. In this light, typical evangelical piety can seem self-absorbed, riding a roller-coaster of spiritual highs and lows. Daniel Meeter put it memorably in response to my piece last year: “Evangelicalism is all about me and my experience so that my decision somehow controls God’s goodness in my life. God ends up being the great spiritual Con Edison that I control at my electric meter.” As opposed to the transactional, Reformed piety is properly covenantal, rooted in long relationships of trust with God and fellow believers.
Worship
My evangelical students at Pitt excelled, naturally, at personal prayer and testimony, maybe not a CRC strong suit. So how do CRC types express their piety? In personal prayer, no doubt; in corporate prayer, most definitely. And then there’s congregational singing. One of my correspondents noted that a new relationship has him attending Catholic mass alongside Sunday mornings at his CRC. His new friends are startled at how loudly he sings while they’re “mumbling into their hymnals.”
This is my experience too. Look down the rows of a megachurch sometime, while the praise band is up front rockin the house to smoke and a stellar light show. In my experience the people in the pews are standing there watching, not joining in. In fact, I’ve only once heard congregational singing to match the volume and musicality long typical of the CRC. It was a hymn-sing at a reunion of the old Augustana Synod. Those Swedish Lutherans could bring it! Of course, it helped that Garrison Keillor was the guest conductor.
In her experience, comments another correspondent, Christian Reformed worship was always “respectful.” Said another, CRC culture is averse to the showy and sentimental, with “a healthy distrust of emotional display or manipulation.” It aimed to build (“edify”) the saints, not trigger instant conversion of the sinner. Because the saints are sinners, simply sinners of the redeemed sort, walking up on a not-so-easy path of sanctification.
Now we’re talking theology, trait #2, but I’m out of space for this post. So that and more next time. Thank you for being my friend and a faithful RJ reader.
14 Responses
Thanks for this!
I grew up in the PCUSA, the daughter of a CRC father and RCA mother (the dreaded mixed marriage!). Despite not growing up in the CRC, yes yes to all of this! I look forward to parts 2 and 3.
Thank you for highlighting worship, especially singing together. When we gather and sing our “psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs”, we express with words and voice what our heart believes even though we don’t always know how to express it on our own. When the covenant community gives voice to our laments, our fears, our praise and our hope, we are all strengthened and the roots of our faith grow a little deeper. Hymn singing is part of my family tradition and upbringing as well, and I consider it a gift. And to hear the body sing in harmony- ahhh! Maybe there is something holy about singing different parts (because our voices are different) yet blending together to make one beautiful, unified sound.
Thanks for publishing this and subsequent chapters, Jim. This is a balm to weary souls and a testimony to God’s faithfulness in the lives of so many.
James,
What a wonderful piece. Thank you for sharing this. I especially appreciate your view that not all baggage is bad.
Yes to all of it – thank you.
As I pondered the wonderful congregational photo in front of Eastern Avenue, another virtue came to mind: generosity.
To think that immigrant communities made up of mostly working, not wealthy (and back then, not necessarily well educated) people built and supported so many churches like this one is pretty extraordinary. Have there been other denominations who give like this?
Maybe that’s coming in a later post – the sacrificial part of the triple S you mention. Either way, I’m looking forward to more.
Jim, I was honored that your latest RJ essay was addressed to me. Thank you!
Your question about baggage brought air travel to mind and the wisdom of the carry-on bag. It’s where we put the things we can’t risk losing, the essentials we want close by, even as we move into new places.
That image of carrying what matters most, also brought to mind an excellent book by your colleague James K.A. Smith, How to Inhabit Time. He makes a compelling case that the past is never truly behind us. We carry it forward, shaping who we are and how we see. Epigenetics even tells us that the experiences of our ancestors can impact our very biology. We are, in some ways, made of our memories.
Diane and I now worship in a Congregational Church where what I value most (just behind our remarkable and deeply loving pastor) is the space it allows for doubt. Here, I can ask questions out loud. I can wonder about the historical accuracy of certain Bible stories or wrestle with their meaning outside the literal without fearing judgment.
And yet, I haven’t left everything behind. One of the treasures I packed in my carry-on from the CRC is its profound reverence for music in worship. At Fuller Avenue CRC musical offerings, whether an organ prelude, a choral anthem, a soloist’s voice, or even liturgical dance, were never treated as “special music.” They were part of the worship, fully integrated, never for show. It taught me that music is often a form of prayer as essential as any spoken word and important enough to be treated as carry-on material.
I look forward to #2 and #3.
Thank you for this honesty, “ rather, I was nurtured in the care and counsel of the church, wove around through seasons of questioning and doubt and finally settled into the faith, which turned out to be stronger for the doubting.”
Somewhere I read, “The opposite of faith isn’t doubt, it is certainty.”
Thank you so much for your piece. You put into elegant words what so many of us feel. We especially tuned into the music portion.
From 2 happy Presbyterian (formerly CRC) choir members.
I, too, never realized how much lusty congregational singing was a part of my heritage until I attended congregations with college roommates. Being forced to sing from a hymnal taught me four-part harmony, something that will be lost to future generations. In the 1950s and ’60s in my area (south-central Iowa) many CRC folk would gather on Sunday nights (after church, of course) to sing on their own. Someone would play the piano, and all 4 parts were represented. By and large, we love to sing.
You mentioned Swedish Lutherans as fellow singers–the Moravians, too, along with Welsh Methodist congregants–are world-class singers. And if you’ve ever attended a historic Black church, well, you’re in for a treat and will be blasted out of your pew with enthusiasm and sheer volume.
I grew up in a CRC colony where congregations competed for bragging rights of having the organist who could inspire the best singing, including slipping in a verse in four part harmony, a cappella, without any prompting or conductor. IMHO it was Bethel Christian Reformed Church on Haledon Ave in Paterson.–hands down. And in the summer in the years BAC (before air conditioning), the neighbors got to hear it since the windows were open.
There’s a connection between the absence of a robed choir and vigorous congregational singing. Not nearly always, but often. While Third had a robed choir. It’s rare to have both.
Our congregation has historically eschewed a berobed and upfront choir— no robes, we sit in and sing from the back-center, where the piano and organ also are situated, flanked by the people and facing the thrust-stage positioning of the pulpit. Liturgy/word/music within, among the heart of the folks at Hope *CRC
Thanks for this, Jim. Makes sense according to my experience too.