It's hard to imagine many "Happy New Years" in town a few days after the Christmas Sunday School program shocker. The Teachers Meeting had pushed the entire conflict out into the pews, and no one was more put upon than the Consistory, whose authority, as they saw it, had been mauled.
Just a few days and meetings later, the Consistory returned the favor:
The Consistory declares that what you announced at the Christmas program, through the secretary, gave a biased representation of the Consistory's handling and then proceeded to follow this with a protest. Since this was done in a public meeting, the Consistory declares that you have done wrong, and expects you to agree that this be admitted publicly by you from the pulpit.
I'm not sure my children (who are no longer children) would recognize what the Consistory is saying. The price they're demanding of the Teachers is based upon the public nature of the uprising. What they'd done, the Consistory claimed, was public sin, a violation of the ninth commandment, "bearing false witness."
I'm old enough to remember a young woman, obviously pregnant, standing in front of the church for what the church called "discipline." Oddly enough, years later, the man who'd married the young lady (he was not a member) stood behind the counter of a Phoenix convenience store. I recognized him immediately, in part, I'm sure, because of the ritual discipline his girlfriend had undergone, standing alone at the front of the church. Her husband, years later, didn't remember me--I had been just a boy--but he told me he remembered my parents.
What the Consistory was demanding of the Teachers was that a representative follow that churchly course. By demanding public confession, the consistory was pulling a hefty weapon from their discipline arsenal. Only excommunication would have been heavier. They were demanding a ritual of public confession from their own members, some of whom had to have been of significant standing. In addition, the Teachers were adamant about their not being guilty of anything--and had Prof. Louis Berkhov to back up their claims. "Supervision of the Sunday School is most important," Berkhov wrote in a letter the Teachers. "Sunday School teachers would do well to present nominations to a sub-committee of the consistory for approval before announcing them," which is what the Teachers maintained they'd done.
In February, a meeting was held which went nowhere, although the Teachers did claim they were willing to do some rewriting of their propoosed constitution. The Consistory, however, continued to insist on public confession. Rev. De Leeuw suggested that, in light of the Teachers' concession, the consistory take some step of their own toward reconciliation. In a moment, one of their members moved for adjournment, a vote was taken, and the consistory left the room.
(Prof. Van Dyke's history of what had become something of a brawl admits in an aside that right there the notes of the Teachers Meetings end--there is no record of what happened, no documentation of what the Teachers did during next five months.)
In March, the consistory appealed to Classis Sioux Center, but the classis meeting was, for them disappointing. Classis scolded both warring parties but did not--or at least did not to the consistory's satisfaction--clearly define the nature of the relationship between the two groups.
At the congregational meeting in May, no one was happy. The congregation voted on new members of the consistory, but the list of candidates was a mess. People cast blank ballots, made nominations from the floor, and Van Dyke says, 36 votes were cast for men who hadn't been nominated. The Consistory grew angrier with Rev. De Leeuw; they felt the pastor had allowed things to get way out of control.
In early summer, the Consistory asked for help from consistories at Hull and Rock Valley, a joint meeting arranged in August with the specific objective of evaluating Rev. DeLeeuw. That meeting, something spoken of as "the double consistory," must have set some kind of post-Synod of Dort record; it went on and on and on for 29 hours and featured unending shenanigans, some of which occured outside the sanctuary, where a large crowd gathered, a group the Consistory claimed was a mob. A few members of the consistory "risked physical danger," Van Dyke says, to quell the gang outside, and by the next morning the whole event became "the talk of the town."
This "double consistory" tried hard to bring about some accord by suggesting that both sides reconsider their stances and work hard at unification. Specifically, the guest consistories recommended that the slate of candidates for the Consistory create a list of nominations compiled from suggestions of the entire congregation, following Article 22 of Church Order which stipulates that churches give its members opportunity to nominate officers.
The Consistory heeded the advice of their neighboring consistories, but determinedly refused to allow many nominations from those they considered the rebels. Thirty-three nominations for elder were forwarded, fifty for deacon. Using its own battle-worn criteria, the Consistory presented their slate of nominations, a list that included only two candidates from the opposition. Various reasons were given, Van Dyke says: "One of them was determined to be too old, another had not been in the congregation long enough, another slept during the service, still another always came late to church, another had acted immorally on the ship when emigrating."
Because the fellowship of Sioux Center CRC was in no condition to choose its ruling body, those presently serving in the Consistory simply called off the annual congregational meeting.
That's when the talk began: perhaps Sioux Center would need two Christian Reformed congregations. In fact, two had, clearly enough, already formed.
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