End of an Era with the Passing of Peter Borgdorff

Finally, what had been nagging me hit home as we stood at the close of the memorial service for Peter Borgdorff to sing “Praise God, from Whom All Blessings Flow.”

Looking around at the faces of the people singing in the pews, I recognized many of them from my 35+ years as a journalist and author who, as it turns out, has devoted much of his career to writing about the Christian Reformed Church.

Among those whom I got to know and who helped me with many stories was Peter Borgdorff, the CRC’s first executive director, as well as many others in the sanctuary that day.

I’ll mention later what hit me as we sang that song. For now, here’s a little personal history that I hope is helpful.

My relationship with the CRC began when I was assigned as a cub reporter to be a religion writer for the local newspaper, the Grand Rapids Press. The entire religious landscape of West Michigan was my beat, but a significant part of that was the CRC.

Soon after starting this new job, I was assigned to cover Synod 1983, meeting then at was called the Fine Arts Center at Calvin College. As a Catholic from Detroit, I had little experience with and next to no knowledge of the CRC.

I began covering synod back when it met for two weeks, when churches were growing and finances were strong, when in many ways the CRC was a Dutch denomination just beginning to engage in serious ways with many issues related to diversity and social change in the wider world.

I especially recall during that time lengthy discussions on women in office and matters related to the creation of the world. I had many questions, and many kind people answered them for me.

I thought about some of this — and something else I’ll get to — as people spoke about Peter during the memorial service.

“We come into this place to honor a life well-lived. We are thankful for the gifts Peter brought to us as a pastor and friend,” said Rev. Art Schoonveld, a retired CRC pastor who Borgdorff had asked to officiate the service.

“Peter loved the church, the Christian Reformed Church and the universal church,” said Schoonveld, who was active in many ways in the business of the church before he retired. “Peter,” he said, addressing his friend, “we’re at peace, all of us, because just like you we come from the rock-solid faith of Psalm 46.”

At the service, we read the psalm that begins, “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore will not we fear, though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea. . . .”

Peter, people said, had a faith that, as the psalm says, knew “the  Lord Almighty is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress” and it was out of his desire that others know this as well, in word and deed, that came his quest for justice.

I recall having a conversation once with Peter Vander Meulen, the retired leader of the CRC’s Office of Social Justice, who spoke of how his job was in jeopardy one year because of some justice issue in which his office was involved.

Delegates to synod, in fact, started to discuss this, and things weren’t looking good for Vander Meulen until Peter Borgdorff stood before synod and powerfully defended Vander Meulen, who kept his job.

At the memorial service, Rev. Joel Boot recalled how a series of circumstances landed him in the position of interim executive of the denomination. He had little experience to prepare him for that job, and when Peter showed up at the office one day, Boot asked — no pleaded — for him to help.

"He was willing at a moment’s notice to help, and I named him deputy executive director," said Boot.

Borgdorff, he said, generally played a low-key role in handling his duties in that capacity, but he knew the church, its structure, its people, and what did and didn't matter. A seasoned, sharp-eyed churchman, he knew how to get things done and move them forward. He and Boot worked together for four years and became very good friends.

"It was hard and often painful work, but he did it willingly. He did it because, he told me right at the start, 'I hear God calling, and I have to obey’.’”

Boot said they traveled extensively to meet with people in the denomination and with other churches with which the CRC had ties, and often sought to build connections.

During that period, Borgdorff spent many hours meeting with people, speaking to groups, and doing all that he could to convince church leaders to adopt the Belhar Confession as a fourth confession of the CRC. The Belhar labels racism a sin and calls for God’s people to eradicate it.

“I only saw Peter cry twice,” said Boot; “once when his son died [in a car accident], and then when the Belhar was defeated.”

Rev. Wes Granberg-Michaelson, general secretary emeritus of the Reformed Church in America, also offered a few reminiscences, speaking about how he and Peter worked long and hard together in preparation for the concurrent sessions of the synods of their denominations that took place in 2014 on the campus of Central College in Pella, Iowa.

They also joined to plan the event at Calvin College in 2010 at which the Reformed Ecumenical Synod, of which Borgdorff was president, and the World Alliance of Reformed Churches merged to become the World Communion of Reformed Churches, now representing some 230 million Reformed Christians worldwide.

“Peter was a man who would build bridges which others could cross,” said Granberg-Michaelson. “Peter battled the evil of apartheid and racism here at home and abroad.”

Bill Sweetman, a longtime friend, spoke about their relationship going back more than 50 years to their days as students at Calvin College, about the many times their families did things together, about playing golf and cards — and about his friend’s personality.

“Peter had confidence. He would take on anything. He was able to talk and laugh himself out of any situation, regardless of who he was with,” said Sweetman.

Suzi Bos, one of Peter’s daughters, spoke on behalf of her mother and siblings and talked of how he had a special way in which he connected with his children and grandchildren.

“He would tell you if you close your eyes that his car can fly (there are some grandkids in their 20s who are still not completely sure if this is true or not). He will pretend to sleep and tell you that a kiss on the cheek is the only way to wake him up because he did enjoy the affection of his small relatives. And he will steal your ice cream. Every Sunday.”

Overall, she said, her father “lived a theology of enough. Enough grace. Enough love. Enough money. Enough space for us all. In fact, I think his joy increased proportionately as his circle of colleagues and friends became more varied. It was fun to watch.”

A few years ago, she said, she and her husband had a rare opportunity to have dinner with just her parents. They had been at a funeral that day and Peter had been bothered by what people had said about the person who died. So she asked her father, “Dad, what would you want us to say about you?”

He replied, “That’s easy. Just say: This is Peter. He did some good things. We liked him most of time. Glory be to God.” And all she could say to that, said his daughter is “‘Amen.’”

An especially poignant part of the memorial was when we stood for a responsive reading from the Belhar, a topic I had spoken with Peter about many times as a reporter. I covered the synod when the recommendation to approve the Belhar as a CRC confession was defeated in 2012.

Then last year I wrote a story about how Synod 2017 made the Belhar a contemporary testimony, a category that nonetheless gives it an important place in the life of the church.

From the Belhar, we read: “God, in a world full of injustice and enmity, is in a special way the God of the destitute, the poor and the wronged. . . . God calls the church to follow him in this. . . . The church must therefore stand by people in any form of suffering and need. . . .”

I didn’t know Peter very well, although we spoke many times. He always answered my questions honestly and gave me story tips.

Throughout the years, I saw Peter at synods, getting business ready to present to delegates, and sitting at the back, just watching and taking note.

From the start, it seemed to me he was always there, passing in the hall, filling people in on the finer points of Church Order, puffing his pipe, maybe looking a little rumpled and yet having a presence about him.

To this reporter from Detroit, even from those early years of synod, Peter was a presence in the church.

As we all stood in the Shawnee Park CRC sanctuary and sang the words of the great doxology — “Praise God, from whom all blessings flow; praise him, all creatures here below; praise him above, ye heavenly host; praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Aaamenn!” — I knew what it was that was nagging me.

I knew that the God from whom all blessings flow had given us a great gift in Peter, who was a great ambassador for the CRC and from whom many of today’s leaders learned ways of the church as they are moving the CRC into the future.

It struck me with the death of Peter Borgdorff, we are seeing the end of an era.

An era in which the church began to shed its ethnicity and to branch out. An era in which women have become ministers; the leadership has diversified; agencies and ministries have been re-structured, and an era in which the Reformed faith has taken some knocks but persisted.

Bottom line, though: this basically means an end of an era to me, since it has been an era in which I have worked, an era that has defined me and my work and my faith, and era in which Peter has always been there.

Although I am grateful we can take comfort in the “God from whom all blessings flow,” it will still take some getting use to to remember Peter won’t be there when I need to clarify some fine point of Church Order or church history — or have someone drop by and share a tip for my next story.