Being a good sport

Writing in the student newspaper of Calvin University, Professor James K. A. Smith suggests that the school should consider disaffiliating from the Christian Reformed Church. Since that church recently declared and reinforced its commitment to the historic Christian position on sexuality and marriage, Smith believes that the faculty of Calvin are no longer able to truly pursue their academic callings. The CRC’s governing body has “moved the goal posts,” in Smith’s eyes. Instead of following pastors and elders who harbor “conservative and evangelical … sensibilities,” he would rather the school cut loose and pursue a broader and freer future, a future free from the Christian Reformed Church.

But Calvin shouldn’t be fooled by Smith’s framing of the situation. If anyone has changed, it’s him. A man who taught a generation of Reformed and evangelical students about the priority of desiring the kingdom of God over the things of this world, how our hearts must be trained by ancient liturgies and rituals, and the way in which the Spirit of God speaks through concrete ecclesiastical communities—this same man now wants to try the American individualist option.

The short history behind Smith’s complaint is that after years of deliberation, and many hard-fought battles, the Synod of the Christian Reformed Church issued a basic but nonetheless heroic defense of the biblical view of marriage. They proclaimed that the Heidelberg Catechism does indeed teach that homosexual practice is a violation of chastity as required by the law of God. When challenged, the Synod held its ground, and now the official debate is over. The only question left is whether those institutions and individuals who are confessionally and legally bound to obey the church actually will.

Smith claims that this is a new development. This is not what he signed up for. The goal posts have been moved.

But the history of the goal posts and boundary lines is not really that complicated. Does anyone seriously question whether the Heidelberg Catechism intended to condemn homosexual practice? The catechism’s primary author gave theological lectures which were eventually compiled and packaged as a “commentary” on the Heidelberg. In its exposition of the Seventh Commandment—the Forty-First Lord’s Day, in the classic Dutch reckoning—we are told that some lusts are “contrary to nature.” Among these are “The lusts of which the apostle Paul speaks in the first chapter of his Epistle to the Romans … the confounding of the sexes [and] abuses of the female sex.” 

The Reformed liturgical forms for Solemnization of Marriage also make it abundantly clear that marriage was given for a man and a woman. In the older version, still in use by the CRC until the late 1970s, a full explanation of the origin and purpose of marriage was given. But even in the 1979 revision, the Christian Reformed Church was still able to say that marriage ought to be heterosexual, procreative, and even complementarian. Even though many people have no doubt pressed their weight against them, these goal posts are right where they’ve been for centuries.

The idea that the schools ought to be an extension of the voice of the church also isn’t new. The same Heidelberg Catechism links “the ministry of the Gospel and schools” in its explanation of the Fourth Commandment. The reason Calvin University exists is because Dutch Reformed immigrants to Western Michigan wanted a faithful institution that would support the ministry of the gospel of Jesus Christ. Calvin isn’t merely one more school among the many educational options in the United States. It’s a school for the church, especially for the Christian Reformed Church.

Smith should have known all of this. In fact, we know that he did. We can still read his own writings from 2012. Back then, Smith argued pointedly that CRC ministers and Calvin faculty members should hold fast to their ecclesiastical and confessional distinctives in the face of pressures from out-of-touch baby boomers. Specifically, Smith thought Calvin should continue to subscribe to the Three Forms of Unity and not concede them as being merely historical documents. He criticized those who would denigrate “historic confessions” in light of contemporary social and technological changes. Smith even used another sports metaphor back then. He warned against “plays from the liberal Protestant playbook.” He even said that “creeping anti-institutionalism … eviscerates thick confessional identity.” In 2012, he believed that this was “a baby boomer problem” that exchanges “the faith of their forebears” with a “covert Protestant liberalism.” Championing a younger generation of more confessionally orthodox churchmen, Smith proclaimed: “we’re here … we’re invested, and … we’re not going away.”

Thirteen years later, the goal posts didn’t move. But Smith did.

In God’s providence, Smith’s 2012 predication came true. The younger generation of the Christian Reformed Church was indeed more faithful to the historic confessions. Thy were invested, and they didn’t go away. They stood their ground and fought for their church. And by God, they won. Now is the time for Calvin to listen.

Calvin should indeed learn from its past and look to its future, “the thick, rich particularity of historic Reformed faith, understood as an expression of catholic Christianity.” If that means a few of the aging superstars can’t stick with the team, then so be it. The church is bigger than that. And hey, you never know. Maybe some of these young no names will keep surprising us.

After all, it’s God that gives the increase. Be faithful to Him, and He just might raise up new children of Calvin from the stones of Lake Michigan.