The relationship between the Christian Reformed Church in North America (CRCNA) and Calvin University has come under great scrutiny in recent years given disagreements about human sexuality, the role that fundamental documents play in defining a tradition, and who determines what happens about significant differences moving forward. In other words, our current stormy moment is about a significant issue (human sexuality), disagreements about the “constitutions” that govern the CRCNA (creeds, confessions, Synodical statements) and Calvin University (Articles of Incorporation, Bylaws, position papers), and authority (who, ultimately, gets to decide).
What makes for a tradition? One definition is that a tradition has a set of foundational convictions that really aren’t up for debate, and some ideas that are debatable. Belonging to a particular tradition means agreeing on certain crucial beliefs and often practices that simply comprise what it means to be in that tradition. But traditions also have room for disagreement within the tradition, and so members can argue and debate about important but secondary matters and still be seen as members in good standing. Members of PETA might differ on the best way to advance their cause. But no PETA member can have a “bacon of the month” subscription and still be a member-in-good-standing of that tradition. Michigan football fans can disagree in good faith about whether Desmond Howard or Charles Woodson was the better Wolverine, but you can’t say you’re rooting for Michigan and Ohio State football at the same time without a gross contradiction in terms. You’re out of the tradition if so.
And this can be applied to faith traditions as well. For two thousand years Christians have been jostling about what counts as foundational — say, the Trinity — and what might be really important but debatable, like infant versus believer’s baptism. The foundational things define borders, and the debatable are things we disagree about, but we still think we can have the debate inside the house because what we share in the foundation gives us a common space for our disagreements. With these examples I’m thinking of the universal Christian house, but of course we could think of more specific traditions, or houses, like the Methodist or Catholic house, or in Calvin’s case, the Christian Reformed house.
The “house” is a helpful metaphor here. We have it on good authority that a house divided is in trouble. But surely some divisions count more than others. It can be difficult when people living and working together in a tradition disagree on those debatable things. It can be devastating when they disagree on the foundational things. And it can be frustrating, puzzling, and confusing when people in the same tradition disagree about which kind of disagreement they’re having. Are we arguing about something foundational? Or debatable? Say one party wants to make some changes in the house: we need to take down a particular wall to make the house function correctly. Perhaps this is debatable. We can keep the wall, or we can take it down, and people can disagree about this in good faith. Others see this as a foundational issue; the wall must come down. And others still agree that it’s a foundational issue, but from the other side. The wall is what’s known as a load-bearing wall, which is to say that you can’t take it down without risking bringing down the whole house.
This metaphor helps me make sense of the ongoing and painful series of arguments we’ve been having in the Christian Reformed house and, to push the metaphor probably too far, the school house that sits next to it (Calvin). Some churches are leaving the denomination because they are persuaded that the traditional view on human sexuality has to go, even if that means changing the nature of the tradition that the church has held historically and is still held globally by the strong preponderance of Christians in the Global South. Others made the case that this issue can be akin to women’s ordination, such that churches and classes could go their own way. And as we know from Synod 2022 and synods since, the denomination, through its decision-making processes, determined that the traditional posture on human sexuality was indeed a foundational issue.
I want to make a few points given this framework. First, this “sorting out” of positions and the future of the Christian Reformed tradition is in one sense completely normal and unavoidable (even as it feels surprising, unsettling, and painful). Since at least 1517 and even before, Christians have concluded that some issues are so foundational that unity, important as that is, must give way to faithful obedience. Note also that this is true of progressives leaving the CRCNA no less than the conservatives who hold to the traditional view. When we have deep disagreements, we have processes and procedures to try to work those out. There simply is no blueprint or path that guarantees everyone’s good faith view of an issue will win out. Once that process has played out, the question for those whose view did not prevail is whether they can reconcile themselves to the house rules or whether they need to move out. I went through this myself when the PCUSA conducted this debate thirty years ago. Separation is difficult, but Protestants of all people can’t object to separation in principle, even as we hope to navigate such a painful season with peace and grace toward each other amidst painful and deeply personal changes.
Second, I think we can acknowledge that the institutions of the church and the university are distinct, even though in our case Calvin’s founding documents make it clear they are very closely related. I, for one, think that human sexuality is a load-bearing wall for the church. If my progressive friends are right that same-sex attraction and intimacy is part of God’s creational design as much as heterosexual attraction and intimacy, then certain and inevitable things follow for how the church should work. And the same is true for the traditional position as well. The two divergent positions reveal even deeper differences over what counts as authoritative, and sometimes it’s better to acknowledge those differences than pretend we’re all still both building on the same foundation.
But what about a university? I cannot go into depth here. But I do think the institution must settle on a position; human sexuality is a load-bearing wall for the university for the same reason it is for the church. But there’s more room for debate and discussion given the ethos of what a university is. It’s not the same as a church, though it will still need to find a place to stand. That is to say, there will still be boundaries, and it is only when the institution decides where it stands on a debated issue that it can determine how much room there is for disagreement, and only then can those who disagree figure out if they can live with that arrangement. For, make no mistake, even with a university like Calvin there are, and always have been, shared convictions that act as boundaries, or guard rails, that make possible the pursuit of our common mission here. That is nothing new. And there has been, and will continue to be, some authority—a synod, or a Board of Trustees, or a CEO—that determines the extent of those boundaries and how they are honored.
In our current moment what’s contested is not only the particular boundaries pertaining to human sexuality, but also the place of the CRCNA in exercising authority for Calvin regarding those boundaries. People of goodwill in the church and the university disagree about these and other important matters. Some see these boundaries as squelching who we are and restricting our freedom. Others, myself included, see them as making a more genuine kind of freedom possible. I am grateful for all of my friends and colleagues, wherever they stand. For what it’s worth, and because it can be easy to think opinion among Calvin faculty runs predominantly in one direction, I don’t mind sharing that I came to Calvin in part because of its relationship to the CRCNA. And even amidst the turmoil of our moment, I remain grateful for both the unique ethos and (contested) mission of Calvin University, as well as the creeds, the confessions, and the authority of the church. Ultimately the school house that is Calvin and the Christian Reformed house that is the CRCNA are our Father’s houses, and I find comforting that bedrock reformed doctrine of God’s sovereignty. But that doesn’t remove the hardship and the difficulties that come with sorting all of this out. How to do so with grace and conviction, charity and truth, gentleness and respect? With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.
Herb A. Kraker • Apr 14, 2025 at 2:48 pm
Thank you very much, Dr. Watson, for this piece. Very well done.
Junius -- Writer • Apr 14, 2025 at 11:33 am
Dr. Watson put together a remarkably thoughtful and courageous meditation—one that speaks with intellectual rigor and moral clarity, and does so in a tone marked not by triumphalism, but by concern, humility, and love of truth. It is the kind of reflection that calls to mind the best of what the Reformed tradition can offer when it engages in earnest self-examination while remaining tethered to its necessary theological moorings.
Dr. Watson displays a deep commitment to principled reasoning without sacrificing warmth of spirit; a combination some would do well to emulate. The house metaphor illuminates the hard realities we face when institutions wrestle with identity, authority, and continuity. He demonstrates a refreshing honesty in acknowledging both the pain of division and the necessity, at times, of separation for the sake of faithfulness. That alone takes moral courage.
Dr. Watson also admirably distinguishes foundational from secondary convictions—not to relativize the latter, but to rightly order our theological priorities. This is the kind of clarity that makes genuine conversation possible, and not merely parroting the exchange of popular slogans, news headlines, or grievances.
Dr. Watson’s reflection also wisely recognizes that traditions are not static museums but living inheritances—gifts entrusted to us not to be redefined at will whenever it gets challenging, but stewarded with reverence, even as we recognize that stewardship includes debate and development within the bounds of shared confession. And the recognition that both the church and the university must, eventually, define their boundaries—not to police thought, but to preserve integrity—is a truth that deserves open acknowledgement in an age that is rife with suspicion of all institutional authority.
I deeply appreciate that Dr. Watson names disagreements without vilifying those who disagree; and most importantly, ends not with despair, but with that most Reformed of affirmations: the sovereignty of God. That is no small thing in a moment of so much institutional and cultural anxiety. This is the sort of writing that, if read slowly and carefully, can do what good theology and faithful witness always aim to do: clarify the mind, steady the heart, and stir the conscience.
May the “Men without Chests” gain much needed clarity from this.