As my niece made her confirmation in her local Catholic parish this past weekend, it evoked memories of growing up as a teenager in Detroit at a time when we were all being asked to make a formal commitment to our local churches.  For most of my friends and classmates, eighth grade was a pivotal year, as the majority of them were practicing Catholics.  My very best friend since kindergarten was Lillian, an only child of second generation Italian-American parents.  So her confirmation was a very important event in her close-knit Italian family. I still remember the event to this day as I was the one and only non-Catholic, and probably non-Italian, guest at this climatic event.  It was also the first time I had ever attended a Catholic mass.

But even before that eventful day, there were special catechism classes that required her attendance every Sunday morning for approximately 2 months, since she attended public not Catholic parochial school.  On one of those Sundays I accompanied her to class at St. Raymond Catholic Church as her non-Catholic guest.  I remember the topic of the day: the seven sacraments, one of them being Confirmation, of the Catholic Church.  This was all very new to me as the Dutch in their Calvinistic churches only recognized 2 sacraments: baptism and the Eucharist (which we commonly just referred to as the celebration of the Last Supper of Christ). 

However, that does not imply that the Dutch Reformed Church did not recognize confirmation.  But hardly with such pomp and circumstance as I witnessed that spring day.  No special dress, although a newer Sunday best outfit was definitely appropriate for the occasion. No special official of the church, like the Bishop that attended Lillian’s confirmation ceremony.  And definitely no big family celebration that followed.  Remember I said Lillian was an only child in an Italian family (quite rare by Catholic standards in the 1960s).  I had never attended a celebration of such magnitude, with plenty of food, liquor, dancing and gift money flowing to honor this momentous occasion. The few family wedding receptions that I had attended were no match for this party.

Just like Lillian and my other Catholic classmates, I would be required to attend special classes before officially joining the church.  We also called these classes Catechism, and they were held on Sunday morning in place of the usual Sunday School lessons, which were centered around the teachings of the bible.  The Catechism classes would teach those prospective new church members the ins and outs of our Calvinistic faith – how the Reformed Church in America was structured, what our particular faith was based upon, (such as the Heidelberg Catechism and the Apostles Creed,) how our church services were organized (the 3-part flow of approach, word and response), and the purpose of communion.  These particular classes were taught by our minister and church elders (in contrast to Sunday School classes which were taught by lay members of the church).  We were at times asked to explore the depth of our faith, but I quickly learned not to cross the line of inquiry too far.  Normally quite quiet and shy, I was beginning to emerge from that shell by 8th grade.  I believe I shocked a church elder during one class when I challenged whether his position on attending both the morning and evening services (for years the RCA conducted 2 services every Sunday, and before WWII there was even an afternoon service too) would make me a better Christian.  One thing you rarely did in the conservative Dutch church was rock the boat, and I sure did that on that particular Sunday morning. 

By replacing our normal routine of Sunday School for those eight weeks in late winter in junior high (I think it was when we were in the 9th grade and approximately 14 years old), the Reformed Church of America was taking the objective role of preparing its baptized  adolescent members for full participation as members of the church.  But unlike my Catholic friends, the actual act of public confession to such commitment was purely subjective, leaving my church classmates to decide when they wished to make that final step.  Upon completion of those special classes we could individually decide to move on to the next step, Confirmation (as we unofficially referred to it back in the 1960s).

At that time Confirmation in the RCA (the correct term was “The Profession of Faith”) was a 2-step process.  First you were required to privately confess your profession of faith to the church before a committee of church elders.  The elders would ask several questions of the candidate to determine if he/she was truly ready to make that lasting commitment to the church.  Once it was confirmed by the elders, then you would do so before the entire congregation at a specified Sunday morning service, seated in the front pew of your peers.  The day I made that formal commitment only 3 of us stood before the congregation from that catechism class of approximately 12 youths.  Eventually most of us would make that commitment before graduation from high school.  Confirmation was our ticket to finally partake in the Eucharist.

What those catechism classes failed to mention was what had recently transposed in the General Synod of the RCA on the process of accepting members to partake in the Eucharist.  When my father, his siblings, my grandparents, and grand aunts and uncles grew up in the Dutch Reformed Church there was no such ceremony, although the stage had been set for the idea of confirmation with the passage of the 1906 Liturgy “The Office for the Reception into Full Communion of Those Who Have Been Baptized in Infancy” by the General Synod.  This position by the RCA did not change until just before I undertook those catechism classes with the passage of the 1968 Liturgy and Psalms Order (The Order for Admission to the Lord’s Table) which laid the foundation for the process I went through in adolescence.  In 1990 this process came under scrutiny by the General Synod as it contradicted the very foundation of our faith the Belgic Confession, the official doctrine of the RCA,  and teachings of the Reformist, Calvin.  Confirmation was never intended to be a liturgy of the Dutch Reformed Church.  Remember I mentioned that the RCA only recognizes 2 sacraments: baptism and the Eucharist.  No historical records indicated any interim ceremony required to pass from infancy baptism to partaking in the celebration of the Lord’s Supper.  As one church scholar put it in a paper addressing this profound contradiction,  “confirmation is a ceremony looking for a theology.”  At about this same time in the church’s history, the right to partake in communion by children was being challenged by parents in the church. 

Today, confirmation remains a liturgy in many RCA congregations, but the process and significance has changed to bring the concept of profession of faith by those baptized at infancy into the church in line with the doctrines of the church, and is no longer a precursor to the one’s participation in communion.  So as times change so has the RCA.


 I have lived my entire life in and around the City of Detroit.  In fact, I was born during its automotive golden years when the “Big 3” car companies (General Motors, Ford Motor and Chrysler) literally drove the economic market here in Detroit.  There were no foreign car manufacturers stealing sales and manpower. Even imported foreign cars on the road were rare, and those were owned and driven by only the very rich. Family lines were even drawn down what kind of car you drove – it was not unusual to hear one’s father saying, “We’re a Ford family” or “We’re a GM family”.  This meant that the family only drove cars manufactured by that car company no matter how well or badly its cars were in terms of style, cost and performance (overall safety and fuel efficiency were not issues back then). Ours was a GM family; I wondered what my father would think about my current passion for Ford Motor cars and my sister’s Toyota (my other sibling has not strayed from the path, however).

But back in 1890, Detroit was yet to be known as the Automotive Capital of the World, although that would quickly change over the next 30 years.  By 1920, at least one member of my father’s Dutch extended family (de familie), like many other Dutch immigrant families in Detroit,  was or had been employed in one of the many automobile factories throughout Detroit.

However, Detroit was emerging as a major manufacturing center in the United States by 1890 (the year that both sets of my great-grandparents would arrive in the United States).  By the time of the Civil War, Detroit was becoming less rural and more urban.  The population would explode from approximately 45,000 in 1860 to almost 1,000,000 inhabitants (that’s a 2000% increase) by 1920, taking Detroit from the 19th largest city in the USA to the 4th largest city in the country, out-ranked only by New York City, Los Angeles and Chicago.  In 1890 there were already 206,000 people crammed within the city limits when my great-grandparents arrived, and that number would more than double in just the next 20 years.  The city was definitely having its growing pains.  This mass of people in just one city was probably very over-whelming for my father’s paternal and maternal grandparents, despite the overpopulation issues that existed in their homeland when they emigrated from the Netherlands.

Almost half (40%) of Detroit’s population in 1890 consisted of foreign-born people, who emigrated from Canada (primarily the province of Ontario), Germany, Poland, Ireland and the Netherlands.  The east-side of Detroit where my great-grandfathers, Johannes Reijst and Arie Smouter, would settle their families was predominately first and second generation German immigrants.  There was also migration from within the United States to Michigan from the East (Pennsylvania particularly), and to a greater extent from the South (where Blacks and poor Whites were hoping to find better paying job opportunities).  In order to accommodate this growing influx of people the city limits of Detroit continued to expand to the southwest, northwest and northeast, annexing many smaller communities in order to grow.  The city limits of Detroit covered approximately 13 square miles in 1860; by 1890 the city area more than doubled to 28 square miles, and by 1910 it was almost 40 square miles in size.  This rapid growth of Detroit would prove challenging for the city management as it tried to keep pace with the rising needs of adequate housing and public services, such as roads, public transportation, utilities, water and sewerage, safety (police and fire departments), medical facilities and public assistance.

So what opportunities attracted all of these people to move to Detroit in the late 1800s?  Although the automobile industry did not yet exist, there were many other industries in which Detroit was already taking the lead nationally.  Detroit was one of the largest producers of pharmaceuticals, home to Parke-Davis. It had taken over the lead in the manufacture of stoves and furnaces from New York.  Situated on top of a salt mine, Detroit would lead in the production of alkalis and other salts.  Its prime location on the Detroit River and access to the Great Lakes would create opportunities in ship-building, manufacturer of various hardwoods into end products, and the production of steel used to manufacture rails for the expanding railroads, freight cars (Detroit was the original home to the Pullman sleeper) and streetcars.  The city also led in the production of plant, flower and fruit seeds and was among the leaders in the paint and varnish industry.  There was a need in the city for craftsmen of all trades (especially masons and carpenters) and vendors of all types of products.  So word of these opportunities were spreading not only nationally but also internationally, as many European countries were struggling with difficult economic times.

So when my great-grandparents, the Reysts and the Smouters, set foot on Detroit soil, I am sure they envisioned hope, a better means for supporting a family, and also hope for their small children to have more opportunities to succeed in the future.