“That became the legacy you know as Calvin College. Now I fear that legacy is under threat of being destroyed,” said Nicholas Wolterstorff, in the conversation we held. The legacy Wolterstorff speaks of began in the 1950s with groundwork by William Spoelhof, Henry Stob, and Harry Jellema, and grew  as Wolterstorff and Alvin Plantinga reshaped Christian philosophy — reformed epistemology, the free-will defense, justice as shalom, aesthetics — and were involved in the formation of  the Society of Christian Philosophers, one of the largest in the field. Wolterstorff also chaired the Christian Liberal Arts Education (CLAE) project, according to the Christian Liberal Arts Education Report, shaping Calvin’s core for more than three decades, and through his writing Keeping Faith (available on Calvin’s digital commons) — long used to orient new faculty — became an interpreter of Calvin’s Reformed mission. Together, they have trained generations of scholars and are widely regarded as two of the most important Christian philosophers of the century. As paraphrased in an article by the Christian Reformed Church (CRC), “They were academic superstars, said [former university president Michael] LeRoy, who played pivotal roles in helping to transform the college from an insular institution in the 1950s into the respected liberal arts school that it is today.”

Has that legacy, in recent years, been traded for a smaller, more closed vision drifting from the intellectual freedom that once defined it? In 2022, the CRC elevated its stance on same-sex relationships to confessional status, which in my opinion effectively moved the boundary so a contemporary ethical issue now stands alongside doctrines like God’s sovereignty, the Trinity and Christ’s resurrection. The Agenda for Synod 2025, according to page 157 of the agenda, would require “annual active reaffirmation of confessional commitments;” if someone has a conscientious difference, they enter two to three years of “discernment and mentoring,” and “permission of some indefinite exceptions [can be made] only after at least six years of service (the typical timeline to tenure) and a period of discernment and mentoring that would feature serious theological study and prayerful consideration, after which ongoing service at the university would still require alignment of personal and professional conduct (including, but not limited to, teaching, scholarship, advocacy and public pronouncements, as well as advising, guiding and mentoring students).” Based on these happenings, I would argue that the CRC Synod has effectively established a new mechanism of control over Calvin University — one I feel it has increasingly exercised in recent years — a mechanism that aims to lead us down the same path of rejecting our own past. 

Today, I would argue that tighter restrictions have transformed confessional pillars into walls; they seek to redefine what academic freedom means without considering the voices and legacy that have already shaped it. I believe Calvin has always been an example of a Christian institution guided by confessions, with the faculty aware of its limits. But now, with these new restrictions, it seems to me that they aim to redefine academic freedom in a way that has never represented Calvin, while claiming it has always been this way. Under these standards, Plantinga and Wolterstorff — the thinkers who defined Calvin’s intellectual legacy — would likely be unable to teach here today, as was suggested by Wolterstorff in our conversation, due to what I would say is their most influential work relying on carefully framed exceptions to the confessions that deepened rather than defied the Reformed tradition. 

Wolterstorff said of the current situation, “This is bound to affect morale. I don’t talk to many faculty members, but my guess is that morale is already affected.” And that is by no means false. According to previous Chimes reporting, in 2021, about 150 professors and staff opposed the CRC’s Human Sexuality Report, which began with a letter citing conflict with Calvin’s Confessional Commitment and its Academic Freedom document. According to a separate Chimes article, in 2022, a Best Christian Workplaces Institute (BCWI) survey found morale at a low (20.9 percent engaged vs. 42.5 percent in 2016; nearly 30 percent disengaged — triple the sector average), as well as widespread reports of voicelessness. Since then, I’ve heard stories of professors  leaving Calvin or the CRC. I fear that what was once bold, creative, public Reformed scholarship is yielding to a climate where confessional interpretations constrain inquiry — and that the pillars of Calvin’s legacy are slowly being bricked in.

That is why in this interview, Wolterstorff invites us to ask: Why is it difficult to preserve and respect what Calvin has always stood for? The answer, I would suggest, depends on whether or not Calvin will remain a beacon of Reformed thought or forfeit what once made it exceptional — its capacity to form students who think deeply, act justly and live wholeheartedly. To ignore this I feel would be to renounce Calvin’s century-old mission, reducing it to a small university with only the memory of what it once was. Throughout our history, the confessions have been viewed as pillars, not walls. We must therefore ask: Is this how we should treat Calvin’s legacy? Is this how we defend the contributions of Calvin’s alumni? Is this how we listen to the faculty? How is this affecting students? 

The university now faces an existential choice: deepen its commitment to the denomination or remain true to its past, its alumni, its faculty and its students. But, from my perspective, it appears unwilling — or unable — to make this crucial decision. Time and again, I would say that recent decisions have sacrificed the university’s academic vocation to denominational politics, betraying the neo-Calvinist vision that once shaped and distinguished Calvin.

As Wolterstorff urges, we need a lengthy, open and generous discussion — not mechanisms that tighten control. Let’s form a study committee with members chosen transparently and representing a real middle ground, not just the appearance of one. Let’s pursue direct and respectful conversations with the CRC. To the faculty: speak with one another and don’t give up, for by the next Synod, it may very well be too late — keep raising concerns until they are heard; Wolterstorff has lent his voice to this effort. To the administration and board of trustees: open the conversation and make room for honest dialogue — I know that you, just like me, also want what’s best for Calvin.

This is an invitation. Let us remember that Calvin’s greatness was never born from silence or uniformity, but from conversation, academic freedom and a deep commitment to truth. If we truly wish to think deeply, let us think together. If we seek to act justly, let us act in ways that give voice to all. And if we desire to live wholeheartedly, let us do so with courage, humility and faith in what Calvin was always meant to be.