It was somewhat unusual for him to come to me with his problems. I used to believe--and still do--that I would never make even a back seat in the Dad's Hall of Fame because I didn't take care to do what good dads did. Don't get me wrong. David wouldn't have abuse about which to complain, and I certainly didn't overtax him with horrific responsibilities. I didn't work him to death either. I was gone a lot, and, like my dad before me, I just didn't have time for him--or didn't take time.
I'm saying all of this because it wasn't at all typical for him to come to me with the kind of problem he was carrying. He was--how can I say it?--perplexed, and I was surprised because I thought a lot of the girl he'd been dating. I suppose he suffered from his dad's profession--teaching--because I tended to know the young women who were in his social circle, and while I don't remember ever saying "get rid of her," I rarely told him what I thought of whoever he was seeing. In fact, this time, I was thrilled by his choice--the girl he'd been seeing was, in my grade book and whatever other book I kept, a real winner.
Let's just call her "Annie" because I'm risking injury in just bringing up the whole sorry tale, but let's just say Annie was a teacher's pet, if there could be one in a college class. Bright and comely, she was the kind of learner who walked walked out front of most of the others in class because of the energy she invested in learning. Didn't hurt, of course, that she was an English major; but had she been an engineer or a nurse and been as hungry in class than Annie was, I might well have suggested to David that the dark-eyed, dark-haired girl from Idaho was worth a second look.
For the record, I didn't suggest he go with her, but I registered no complaints when he did.
Some weeks later, he came to me with some letters he pulled from his knapsack. They were addressed to him and from her father. Epistle-length, they were long treatises on the ground rules he was setting for David, my son, to see his daughter. He mentioned things like the church to which David belonged, said he wasn't thrilled with the denominational stance the Christian Reformed Church had taken with respect to women in ecclesiastical office, wanted David to know that, and set out a scenario that included David's having to meet Annie's family--her father, at least--before the relationship could grow or move any further. He requested, made it a prerequisite, for David to write him so that he could know the young man dating his daughter, know him and--how can I say it?--groom him personally.
It was nearly the end of the semester, as I remember, because there was some talk about his going to Idaho for the summer. But the letters made it clear that should he opt to spend the summer working in Idaho, he should not assume that he could, on a whim, see Annie, because in her father's universe, dating was a evil kind of fantasy. David needed to meet her entire family before he could date Annie alone.
David didn't know how to take all of it. That's why he'd come to me.
I couldn't help it--I was angry, very angry because I thought Annie's father was, like some beast from another world, infringing on what I thought was Annie and David's whole relationship, throwing himself right into the middle of their days and nights together. And, he was making David's life miserable.
I started writing a letter to him, but it didn't feel right--and it was difficult to hold back the fire. About then, I was in Ontario for some speaking engagement, staying at Hugh and Judy Cook's place. Hugh was an old and trusted colleague and fellow writer, and Judy was a family counselor, so I laid out the whole story--not the letters--to them, looking for advice. Hugh bristled, Judy seemed less so.
I asked if they thought I should write Annie's father to tell him that David already had a father, that he didn't need another one, especially one with such horrid patriarchal sentiments.
Judy shook her head, told me I had to stay out, for David's sake. She told me that if I got into the mess it would only make David's problems worse because not only did he have to worry about Annie and Annie's father, my writing any kind of blistering note off to her father would create another whole angle that would almost bury him. Neither David nor Annie needed more to worry about.
So when I got back home, I deliberately disposed of the file I'd begun. Deleted the whole thing, and, following Judy's advice, stayed out of a problem that made me as angry as anything in my son's life.
I'm telling the whole story right now because it seems that a preacher named Douglas Wilson, from Moscow, Idaho, is making news these days. On August 14, David French, in a NYTimes op-ed piece, brought up Wilson and his views because the new Secretary of Defense, Pete Hegseth, considers himself a member of Wilson's church and a subscriber to Wilson's views. That's why he questions the rights of women to vote.
You read that accurately--the right to vote.
Read the article yourself, or read what Kristin Kobes DuMez, who was a student at Dordt College at nearly the same time, thinks about Douglas Wilson's wildly patriarchal views.
https://www.nytimes.com/2025/08/14/opinion/douglas-wilson-evangelical-hegseth.html
When Annie went home for the summer that year, she learned that she wasn't coming back to Sioux Center--and she didn't. Dordt College was too liberal for her father's daughter. So, I take it, was my son. Her father simply intervened and ended the relationship.
All of this happened 23 years ago, but the movement Douglas Wilson created remains very much alive.
Christian nationalism really has much to commend it to hungry, fervent believers, maybe especially those believers in the Reformed tradition. But its dangers are legion, both theological and societal. I honestly believe it perverts the relationship between the believer and the world God loves. I honestly believe it's evil.