Disembarking a denomination

You could say it all started here in Halifax: the Canadian arm of the Christian Reformed Church (CRC), that is. After World War II, most of the Dutch immigrants who founded the CRC in Canada arrived by boat at Pier 21. But if you visit Halifax this fall, you’ll no longer find a CRC.

Today, a new sign stands outside All Nations Church with “The Presbyterian Church in Canada” (PCC) near the bottom. Other than the new sign, the church doesn’t appear much different than it did a few years back, when it was a small but vibrant congregation that actively participated in CRC denominational governance and generously supported many CRC activities. Long-held commitments to faithful spiritual care of members haven’t changed. Nor has the congregation’s intention to be a force of love and care for our community. All Nations still looks after those who can’t buy groceries or pay their bills in our increasingly expensive city. Long-held social traditions persist. There’s still the summer picnic on the Northwest Arm, an Advent talent show and a raucous musical chairs competition held every January.

Other small changes are evident, though. Ecclesiastical relationships now focus on sister Presbyterian Church in Canada churches in the Halifax region. Sister CRCs in the Maritimes are no longer referenced in weekly prayers. Our offerings are for similar local causes as before the disaffiliation, but denominational ones are now PCC. Yet, you don’t hear anyone saying “All Nations PCC.” It’s just All Nations now, maybe a subtle acknowledgement that denominational affiliations have shown themselves to be unreliable.

Nevertheless, this transition has been painful for me. My family on both sides has been CRC for generations and my dad served as a pastor in the denomination. I worked in communications for the CRC for many years, even handling media relations at several consecutive synods (denominational general assemblies) in the 90s. My volunteer roles throughout adulthood have mostly been with the CRC. I share these biases and note that my experience of the denomination – and my account of All Nations’ departure from it – is deeply personal and shaped by my own perspectives. It does not reflect the totality of experiences of other members of my congregation. Being cast out from one’s spiritual home is difficult and heartbreaking, and I tell this story still grieving that loss.

A diverse church

The story I tell starts in Halifax. Most of the post-World War II Dutch immigrants who arrived in Halifax, including my dad (a teen at the time) and his family, quickly boarded trains for work in Ontario and farther westward. Along with bulging suitcases and dreams of a better life, these displaced persons, battered by the ravages of war, carried with them deeply held traditions and their reformed faith.

A small number of immigrants stayed in Halifax, and as early as 1953, members of the Halifax CRC met regularly. The church community was formally organized in 1958. Halifax CRC shed its Dutch identity earlier than most CRCs, striving to reflect and embrace the population of its port city home. The name change to All Nations CRC in 1978 reflected this vision.

The culture war

Then came a global pandemic and, with it, sweeping societal changes. In the years following covid, the political environment south of the border became increasingly polarized around issues of race, sexuality and gender. The CRC, especially in the United States, also took a turn to more traditional, evangelical, conservative positions.

In 2022, the CRC’s synod decided that the word “chastity” in the Heidelberg Catechism prohibits, among other things, homosexual sex. This decision aligned with the values of, and was applauded by, a growing number of Christian Reformed congregations. On the other end of the spectrum, the decision left a minority of well-established, liberal-leaning congregations reeling – on both sides of the border.

Eventually, as a result of subsequent synodical decisions, All Nations and other CRCs were given an ultimatum: repent and withdraw from their positions as affirming, inclusive congregations, or remain affirming and be disciplined. The discipline, synod decided, would involve being led by another church, one in compliance with recent decisions. Either way, All Nations would clearly no longer be the church it was, a welcoming home for people of diverse backgrounds, genders and sexual orientations.

Navigating change

Drawing on members’ expertise, All Nations designed a process that helped the congregation to understand the denominational issues and participate in decision-making. My church explored the pros and cons of a range of potential affiliation options through meetings, discussions, presentations and surveys. There were complex ecclesiastical and legal implications to consider.

By the time a vote was called to leave the CRC and join the PCC in early 2025, the decision to disaffiliate was unanimous. That being said, I think it would be unfair to say that everyone was of the same mindset in defying synod’s direction on human sexuality. During the time after these decisions and prior to All Nations’ disaffiliation, a number of families and members of All Nations left the congregation. Meanwhile, others – concerned about causing further harm to LGBTQ+ members and their families – urged church leadership to accelerate All Nations’ departure from the CRC.

It’s now autumn 2026. On any given Sunday, you’ll enter the beautiful old brick building in the heart of Halifax to hear preaching from the Bible; prayers for the people, the city and the world; spirited music and active participation in worship by members, young and old.

While the congregation appears to have moved on, the impact on individuals has been profound. In a service that allowed members to share thoughts and feelings about leaving the CRC, people expressed sadness, betrayal, grief and loss. Others shared gratitude and pride in how All Nations navigated the journey. For some, the perceived ruthlessness with which the CRC made decisions that drove out inclusive congregations has eroded their trust in institutions overall, especially the church. Despite these mixed emotions, most members feel proud that All Nations stayed true to its convictions to live out the love of Jesus Christ in an ever-changing world.

Setting a new course

From time to time at the Halifax pier, I see a Holland America Line cruise ship dock. It’s called the Volendam, named for the ship that ferried my dad’s family, and thousands of other Dutch immigrants, across the Atlantic to Halifax to begin a new life after the war. The immigrants seldom had time to look back and grieve their losses though they had reason to do so, having lived through the hunger winter, the bombings and Nazi occupation.

Now, on the other side of the culture war that engulfed our formerly beloved denomination, All Nations isn’t looking back either. Cast off from the moorings of the CRC, All Nations has trimmed our sails and set a new course, eager to see where this journey of love for God and neighbours will take us.