Like Water Out of a Tub

Recent comments on my blog and conversations in the church hallway have convinced me that there is another line of reasoning in our current debate about baptism and membership, one that I haven’t fully understood.  As these people have explained to me (gently, patiently) our membership requirement doesn’t imply that people from other denominations are not Christian, it only points to the fact that they are not Baptist.  And if they want to be Baptist they must submit to believer’s baptism by immersion. 

So, let me see if I’ve got this right: believer’s baptism by immersion is what makes you Baptist?

Maybe that’s where I’m confused.  I’ve always thought that baptism was a symbol of entering the new life in Christ.  I thought that’s what Paul was talking about when he said in Romans 6 that it’s like dying with Jesus, and being buried with him, and then being raised from the dead.  I thought it’s what Jesus was referring to in John 3 when he told Nicodemus that in order to enter the Kingdom he had to be “born again.”

The language of resurrection and re-birth is powerful language.  I sometimes refer to it as “transfer terminology”: it’s about making the move from one way of life to another.  And I can see how, if you have come out of a life of sin and selfishness, you might want to drown the “old man” (as Paul calls him) in a watery grave, and let God raise up the “new man” just as he raised Jesus.  You might want to be “born again,” in the way Jesus described it to Nicodemus, if that really meant you could make a fresh start of your life.  The waters of baptism—to me—have always been a place where people entered the new life in Christ, where they were raised from the dead or born again, but they have never been—to me—a place where you make a Methodist into a Baptist.

Is that what Paul was talking about?  Is that what Jesus meant?  I cannot find any scriptural support for the idea of making Christians from other denominations into Baptists by baptizing them.  To me it empties the meaning of baptism; it drains it out of the baptistry like water out of a tub.  Instead of doing it “to fulfill all righteousness” (the words chiseled in stone above our baptistry) we do it to fulfill a membership requirement. 

That’s not even in the Bible.

I don’t want to empty baptism of its meaning.  I don’t want to use our baptistry to make Methodists (or Presbyterians, or Episcopalians, or Lutherans) into Baptists.  I want to use it to symbolize that moment when someone becomes a Christian, when they rise up from that watery grave or take the first breath of their new life in Christ.  That’s when the angels rejoice in heaven, that’s when the Hallelujah chorus begins.  Transferring your church membership from one denomination to another is not the same thing at all.

And shouldn’t be.

“I just can’t accept infant baptism”

That’s what people often tell me after they’ve heard all my arguments for welcoming Christians from other denominations into our membership without re-baptizing them.  To them baptism is believer’s baptism by immersion, and therefore infant baptism is no baptism at all since it isn’t (usually) by immersion and since an infant is incapable of making a profession of faith.  They say, “We’re not re-baptizing these people; we’re baptizing them!” 

And the argument starts all over again.

But at the end of it I rarely have the feeling that I have been understood.  So, let me see if I can put it another way, a way that would make sense to lifelong Baptists, and let’s talk about those people Baptists often place at the opposite end of the Christian spectrum—Catholics. 

1. Baptists baptize believers by immersion; Catholics baptize infants by pouring water over their heads three times in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. 
2. As Baptists, we do not believe that infant baptism is sufficient (as some Catholics apparently do).  We do not believe that it “saves” the child or “washes away the taint of original sin.”  We believe that salvation requires our faith as well as God’s grace.
3. This is why we wait to baptize until a child is old enough to profess his faith.  Then baptism becomes a celebration of salvation in which the gift of God’s grace is received through the believer’s faith. 
4. This is why we believe that infant baptism—on its own—is unacceptable.

But (and you knew it was coming), when infant baptism is followed by an extended period of Christian formation, by a confirmation process in which children learn what it means to believe in Jesus and belong to the church, and by a public opportunity to claim their baptism and profess their faith, then it becomes one piece of a process whereby the grace of God that was celebrated in baptism is received through faith.  As Paul might put it: grace + faith = salvation (Eph. 2:8).

What I’m trying to say is that I can’t accept infant baptism either, not on its own, but I can accept it as part of a process of authentic Christian discipleship.  Understood in that way it is almost identical to our own practice of baby dedication, and I don’t think any of us want to do away with that.  What we mean when we say “I can’t accept infant baptism” is that we don’t believe water, by itself, does anything for that child, but we need to carry that thinking all the way out.  Water, by itself, doesn’t do anything for the person who gets into our baptistry, either.  It’s just water.  We use it as a symbol of God’s grace and our surrender to it. 

Which makes me think that being a Christian is a matter of the heart, and not a matter of how much water was used or when it was applied.

What do you think?

One Sunday in September

Today at church we celebrated “One” Sunday: a big, happy unity rally intended to pull us together before a vote next week threatens to pull us apart.  That’s right, next Sunday—September 19—we are voting on whether Christians from other denominations can become members of First Baptist Church without having to be re-baptized. 

We’ve been talking about it for almost two years.  We started with some “Holy Conversations” in October of 2008, where the congregation shared its views, both pro and con, and then the matter was referred to the deacons.  After some initial study and prayer the deacons formed a sub-committee that studied the issue for more than a year.  They brought their report back to the deacons who eventually agreed (in an 80 to 20 vote) to recommend to the church that we change our membership policy.  Next Sunday we’ll find out what the church thinks. 

I’ve been told by some who are against it and by others who are for it that this issue has the potential to “split the church.”  I hope not.  I don’t want that to happen any more than they do.  But I was encouraged by an episode from the church’s history that I stumbled across only this afternoon.  I was reading The World in His Heart: the Life and Legacy of Theodore F. Adams (one of the church’s legendary pastors), and found a description of the church’s 150th anniversary.  Dr. R. H. Pitt, in an address delivered on that occasion, took note of some of the characteristics that had marked the church in its history.  After observing that there had been “no taint of radicalism from its pulpit,” but rather “a fine spirit of high adventure,” Dr. Pitt observed that the congregation had evidenced a substantial unity and had settled “vexing, disturbing, and divisive issues of doctrine and practice” without permanent rifts in its fellowship. 

I’m hoping that we can live up to that reputation next Sunday, and that the day will be remembered not only for the decision we make, but for the spirit in which we make it.

Back Burner

I told the congregation on Sunday that we have decided to postpone our vote on the baptism and membership issue until September 19, mostly because so many of us travel during the summer.  It seemed wise to our deacon chair, Lee Stephenson, to pick a date far enough in advance that people could get it on their calendars and make plans around it.  So, September 19 it is—a Sunday—and the plan at this point is to go ahead with our usual Sunday morning schedule and then come back in the afternoon for this important meeting.

When I made the announcement on Sunday I saw heads nodding around the sanctuary.  It seemed to make sense to most people to wait until everyone could be here.  There are those (and I count myself among them) who will be glad to get this vote behind us, but not if it means leaving anyone out.  If we are going to make this decision as a congregation let’s make it together.

So I said, “This issue has been on the front burner for a while.  It has reached a rolling boil, and generated a lot of heat and steam.  For the summer, at least, let’s move it to the back burner, take a deep breath, and take some time to do what is most important in the world: to love God, love others, and love one another.  At the end of a summer like that—a ‘summer of love’—we ought to be in a good place to make a decision.”

If you are a member of First Baptist I would encourage you, especially, to take the time to listen to my explanation of what the practical implications of this decision would be.  It’s available on the church web site, and takes about an hour to listen to.  I know: that’s a long explanation.  But if you would take an hour to do that and then spend at least that much time in prayer, listening for what God has to say on this issue, I think you would be well informed and ready to vote in September.

Thank you for your patience and understanding as we try to make this big decision together.

How Christians Make Big Decisions

I watched it happen last night.

The deacons of Richmond’s First Baptist Church spent approximately three hours considering a motion that would allow Christians from other denominations to join the church without being re-baptized.  It was a big decision for our church.  As one deacon put it, it would break a 230-year tradition.  But at the end of the night the deacons approved the motion, which will now go on to the church for final consideration.

One of the things that impressed me most about last night’s meeting was the spirit in which it was conducted.  There were people who spoke for the motion, who were treated with respect and courtesy, and people who spoke against the motion, who were also treated with respect and courtesy.  One of our veteran deacons spoke in favor of a motion to amend, a motion that was later defeated.  As soon as the vote was counted he stood up and said, essentially, “It didn’t come out the way I wanted it to, but I’m going to live with the outcome: that’s the way Baptists do it.”  And then we went back to considering the main motion.

No voices were raised.  No threats were made.  No one walked out.  No one left in tears.  Throughout the evening the deacons of Richmond’s First Baptist Church conducted themselves like real Christians, even as they wrestled with a big, tradition-breaking decision.  

I’m proud of them. 

At the conclusion of the meeting we sang, “The Church’s One Foundation,” and then we shook hands, hugged, and spoke to each other on our way out the door.  I looked around for some I knew who would have been disappointed by the outcome but didn’t see them.  I tried to think how I would feel if the vote hadn’t gone the way I wanted it to.  I would have been deeply disappointed.  I may not have wanted to stand around and chat afterward.  But I think I would have appreciated the way the decision was made and on the way home I hope I would have had the grace to say, like that veteran deacon, “It didn’t come out the way I wanted it to, but I’m going to live with the outcome: that’s the way Baptists do it.”