Leaning In

What if we just...did something?

Last weekend, I attended an interfaith conference on religious nationalism at the University of Notre Dame. There were many excellent presentations, and as typical of such events, even more valuable were the conversations between sessions. One thing that struck me, a realization I’ve had frequently over the past several months, was that some among us see what’s happening—they accurately understand the enormity of the situation unfolding—and there are others who only partially comprehend the challenge.

The dismantling of our Constitutional order, detentions and disappearances, the bullying of allies, destabilizing of the global order, the grift, the cruelty, the incessant lies…we know what this is and where this leads.

What has also struck me in recent months is that those who do see—even those who have only recently come to see—are largely responding not with fear, but with resolution.

In recent weeks, I’ve encountered a number of people who have asked me: “What can I do?” Scholars who want to start writing publicly, despite the risks. Citizens ready to make their voice heard and put their bodies on the line. Knowing what’s at stake, they are choosing not to go quiet. It’s not that they’re not afraid. It’s that they’re resolving to act in the face of their fear.

And you know what? It feels good. Rather than engaging in incessant risk assessment (and trust me, I do plenty of this), it feels good to lean in. Courage really is contagious. And doing something is better than sitting around waiting for the next thing to happen.

There are many ways to respond, but I want to share one today—one that may have special interest to those who hold to the Christian faith, or who are intrigued by what a dissenting Christian vision might look like in this moment.

First, a bit more context to help set the stage:

For those familiar with the Christian Reformed Church, you’ll know that the denomination is in the process of splitting. The past few years have carried a lot of frustration and grief for many who now find themselves no longer welcome in the denomination of their birth or choosing. My own church voted this past week to leave the denomination. Dozens of others are leaving as well. And honestly right now, it feels good. While my preference would have been to hold together, after years of trying to work with those who do not share that desire, and in fact have been working to undermine any possibility of doing so, it feels freeing to look ahead—to turn away from a defensive posture and lean into doing what we feel called to do, without apology.

For many of us, this includes leaning into the tradition that brought us to this place. A couple weeks back, I shared a letter from the Instititute for Christian Studies explaining their decision to sever their connections to the CRC:

The Institute for Christian Studies (ICS) has a long and cherished history of holding space for conversations that truly matter. At ICS, facilitating difficult, respectful, and safe conversations about controversial matters is a task we are proud to undertake. We believe it is paramount to foster and defend spaces where Christians can, in good faith, disagree about matters of scriptural interpretation
or about where the Holy Spirit is leading the Church today. We also believe that, in carefully preparing spaces for these difficult conversations, disagreements can take place in a spirit of communal fellowship and solidarity. These disagreements can, in turn, ultimately become a means of growing in faith together.

Eminent Christian philosopher Nick Wolterstorff also shared his thoughts:

ICS was given birth in the mid-60s by members of the Christian Reformed Church – more particularly, by members of the church who identified themselves as belonging to the neo-Calvinist strand within the CRC. Prominent among its founders were recent immigrants to Canada from the Netherlands who had been reared in the neo-Calvinist tradition in the country of its origins.

Over the years of its existence, ICS has reflected what was best in the CRC of those days….The Christian Reformed Church today is no longer the church that gave birth to ICS in the mid-60s.

As individuals and churches leave the denomination, many of us want to find a way to preserve the tradition that forged our faith—a generous and expansive vision of Christianity, one attuned to common grace and oriented toward justice and Shalom—the restoration of all things.

But this isn’t just about the CRC. Beyond the CRC world, there is the capture and capitulation of American evangelicalism. I wrote a whole book on that, one that only scratches the surface. Many inside evangelical spaces have seen this with their own eyes. Many have chosen to leave those spaces, but for those wanting to retain their faith, it can be difficult to find new communities. Many who remain feel increasingly isolated, forced to choose between going quiet or facing harsh blowback if they challenge the new status quo.

Stepping beyond the Christian world, we are now facing an era where our fundamental rights are being put to the test. It is becoming increasingly clear that many who championed “religious liberty” meant nothing of the sort. For them, it was a strategic tactic to secure right-wing Christian supremacy. It’s the same with “free speech.” Those who rallied around free speech are the worst offenders, cracking down, using bullying, threats, and harrassment, to punish and silence those who would challenge their power. Universities are being purged of anything the government deems “DEI,” which, in the case of some Christian institutions like my own, strikes at the very heart of our religious and educational mission.

Yet as we’ve seen with powerful law firms and Ivy League universities, when you have a lot to lose, the temptation to bend the knee can be immense.

Which brings us to…us.

Those with power—and powerful institutions—may choose to capitulate or cower, but the rest of us don’t have to.

What if we saw these enormous challenges and this astonishing vacuum of leadership as an invitation to lean in—to build something new, salvaging the best of our traditions, gathering in spiritual and political refugees, and finding solidarity and strength when the powers-that-be want us divided and discouraged?

Here’s the proposal: Let’s cast a vision. Let’s imagine what a new community, new networks, a new boldness might look like. Let’s cross denominational boundaries and national borders and invite those inside and outside faith traditions to participate. Let’s not just stand against the powers of Christian nationalism and oligarchy and the erosion of democracy and denigration of justice, empathy, and care. Let’s stand for truth and beauty and goodness. Let’s root ourselves in the strongest intellectual and spiritual traditions, let’s embrace humility and hold together across difference. Let’s create spaces for creative learning, and for genuine community.

And let’s build on existing foundations.

The Institute for Christian Studies has a long tradition of casting this vision, of delving into the riches of Christian tradition, and of creating space for rigorous conversation and genuine community. Let’s build on that. Moreover, with its Canadian location, it is strategically placed to facilitate much-needed cross-border conversations and community, and as an academic institution north of the border, it will also have more independence to do so.

The Reformed Journal has long been a mouthpiece for the expansive and generous Reformed faith that has formed my own faith, and that has animated the work of ICS for more than half a century. Here’s a book of some of the best essays, if you’re curious to have a better understanding of this variant of Reformed Christianity that has little in common with the New Calvinism of Piper, Driscoll, and the theobros.

Or peruse their website for their latest pieces, including this, from exiting CRC pastor Roger Nelson, “Reservations.”

These are my people. And I’d love for those of you feeling alienated, silenced, or unmoored, to get to know these people. And we’d like to get to know you, hearing your ideas and imagining a more expansive vision, together.

We’re staring with something simple: a conversation. On May 3, Nick Wolterstorff and I will be in conversation about all of these things at Eastern Avenue Church here in Grand Rapids. (I’d wanted to meet at a pub, but due to space and recording issues we thought we’d better choose the church option.) We’ll be livestreaming for those who aren’t able to be there in person.

If you’d like to attend in person, please register here:

If you’d like to join us remotely, register here:

Where will this go? We have some inital plans, and we’ll share those with you then, but we have ambitious dreams for what this could be.

We’d love to have you join us as we step forward together into something new.

I’d be remiss if I didn’t also add that if anyone would like to donate to this effort, one way to do so would be to donate directly to ICS. You can do that here:

If you are in a position to become a major donor of this initiative, I’d be happy to have a personal conversation to let you know our specific needs and what we’re envisioning in the months ahead. Reach out via email or the comments and we’ll find a time to connect.

Our primary goal on May 3, however, is not fundraising. It’s simply finding one another and dreaming of what we can do together. We’d love to have you there, and any friends you’d like to bring along.

Please share your ideas and dreams in the comments below, and share this post with anyone you think it might speak to: