Identity Crisis

“You need to work on your identity crisis at a different institution.” With those words Dean Boender sent me packing. 

It was 1979, I was a sophomore at Calvin College, and the good Dean wasn’t wrong. Majoring in general knuckle-headedness, I had no idea what I was doing as a college student.  So, after a year and a half at Calvin, I limped home. Defeated. 

I left Calvin feeling like I wasn’t good enough, smart enough, or faithful enough. As a public-school kid, who wasn’t Dutch, I was already an outsider. Not succeeding as a student reinforced that reality. And therefore, while I made good friends, loved the campus culture, and wanted to succeed, I left knowing that I’d failed. 

It takes a long time to shed the weight of failure. Those sorts of experiences help create self-defining knots and narratives. And while this is not the setting to unspool that story, I’ve revisited it recently. 

At a 2024 meeting, Classis Chicago South of the Christian Reformed Church received an overture charging any support of same-sex marriage as a “first tier” heresy – likened unto denying the divinity of Jesus Christ. When I asked about the implications for those who would be deemed heretics, I was told that I would need to “change or leave.” 

That heresy overture didn’t make it out of Classis. However, the decisions of the recent Christian Reformed Synod made it clear that unless I rescind my statement of conscience, repent of my flawed biblical interpretation, and submit to a three-year discipleship process in order to be changed, I am no longer welcome.  Because I think how we love our same-sex-oriented brothers and sisters is a matter of pastoral care and not one of confessional or salvific weight, I’m being sent packing. I’m not good enough, smart enough, or faithful enough to continue serving in the CRCNA. This current “messy reformation” of the church requires that I work on my identity crisis at a different institution. 

Clearly these two events are not the same. They’re as different as being 19 years old and being 65 years old. But on both occasions, I failed to meet the standards. On both occasions, I was longer acceptable. On both occasions, I was told to change or leave. 

After leaving Calvin College, I graduated from Northwestern College and Western Theological Seminary. In the early 1980s, I served as an intern at Roseland Christian Ministries in Chicago. And in some fashion, I’ve remained rooted at RCM ever since. For 10 years I taught, coached, and was a chaplain at two Christian high schools, and for the past 22 years I’ve pastored Hope Christian Reformed Church in Oak Forest, Illinois. My vocational identity has been shaped in CRCNA settings. 

Dean Boender sent me down a healthier path. I needed to leave Calvin College. The mistakes I made were mine alone and how I carried that “failure” is on me. Sometimes growth requires a new address. Sometimes identity formation is a long bumpy journey. The Dean had my best interests in mind. Even as I left his office – wondering how I would tell my parents – I thought we were on the same team and pulling in the same direction. 

This is where the analogy falls apart. It could be that the CRCNA is the one going through an identity transition. And yet, for the life of me, I can’t fathom how forcing out the faithful witness of pastors and congregations who welcome the queer community strengthens the church. This will end with church splits and broken fellowship. Some will leave, some will stay, and some will get sent packing. And there will be long bumpy roads to new identities.   

Our identity as Reformed Christians requires a measure of confessional uniformity about how we love and serve God and neighbor. But, if it rules out disagreement and puts a time limit on discussion, if we can’t faithfully serve while carrying doubts and difficulties, then I do need to work on my identity crisis at a different institution. 

I’ve met a remarkable collection of Christian Reformed pastors who are wondering if they can remain in the denomination that they’ve loved and in which they’ve been formed. I’ve been struck by their giftedness and their desire to faithfully serve the church of Christ. My prayer is that they won’t long carry the wounds of being told that they’re not good enough, faithful enough, or acceptable enough. My prayer is that they and the congregations they serve will know that they are loved and accepted by God in Christ – without exception. We may need to change addresses, but our identity is unshakable. As the Heidelberg Catechism puts it, 

I believe that the Son of God through his Spirit and his Word, out of the entire human race, from the beginning of the world to its end, gathers, protects, and preserves for himself a community chosen for eternal life and united in true faith. And of this community I am and always will be a living member.

Lord’s Day 21, Q&A 54

The sting of rejection always hurts. Dean Boender gave me the boot for good reason. My late-adolescent-attention-deficit-issues impacted my ability to be a student. However, to be sent packing at age 65 because of an interpretative disagreement over a handful of passages and the contours of an ethic of love is grievous. But maybe I’m just collateral damage in this movement toward a new identity.

Header photo by Kelly on Pexels