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Theological Forum Issue

Vol. XXVI, No. 2, July 1998

 

BAPTISM

EROSION AT THE FONT


Henry De Moor


Reprinted by permission from Calvin Theological Forum, Vol. 29, No. 1, April 1994, pages 168-179.


Among the many issues currently being debated in the Christian Reformed Church, one in particular has not commanded as much attention as it should. You might call it "a sleeper." Of the 187 requests for advice that came my way during the past academic year, only five referred to it in one way or another. Truth is, I hadn't reflected on it much myself until such neglect became intolerable. It doesn't grab the headlines like the others. On account of it, no ministry shares have been withheld, no churches have left our denomination, no group has broken into warring factions. Yet, so it seems to me at least, this issue would warrant such developments more than others. It certainly demands our scrutiny.

It is our solemn duty at Calvin Seminary to be ever alert to winds of doctrine that do not spring from the riches of our creedal heritage indeed, conflict with it. In Church Order language, we must "vindicate sound doctrine against heresies and errors."1 I do not think of myself as a rigid confessionalist, hopelessly stuck in the concepts of yesterday. We must express the old in new ways. As John Kromminga put it so aptly in a recent Banner editorial: ".&nbsp.&nbsp. live with tradition today, we must reexamine, reform, and renew.&nbsp.&nbsp.&nbsp."2 We may do this playfully, without the anxiety that claims it is we alone, not the Spirit of God within us, that keeps us on the straight and narrow. But in the same breath, Kromminga writes: "Traditions are worth evaluating, not for the sake of the past, but for the sake of the church's future."3 Willem Visser 't&nbspHooft, former General Secretary of the World Council of Churches, put it this way: "Theology must do more than propose ideas, it must attempt to confess the faith."4 May we, faculty and students, be ever vigilant in doing that.


I. The Issue


The issue I have in mind, like so many in my specific field of endeavor, is no product of ivory tower theology. It has surfaced in council rooms of our denomination there, where our ministry is constantly planned, implemented and evaluated; where ever-changing contexts challenge the way we've always done things; where rank-and-file believers bring expectations that suddenly upset our apple carts. Briefly stated, it is this: May our churches offer parents of newborn children the option of dedicating them to the Lord? At a time when so many genuine Christian believers seriously doubt the validity of infant baptism, why does our Church Order still continue to insist that "the covenant of God shall be sealed to children of believers by holy baptism"?5 Understand us well, so said all my questioners without exception, we're no advocates of believers' baptism. We value our heritage. The Heidelberg Catechism is clear enough: "Should infants, too, be baptized," it asks, and the response is straightforward: "Yes. Infants as well as adults are in God's covenant and are his people."6 We believe that with all our hearts, they assured me, and intend for all with whom we have contact to do the same. But why so exclusivist? Why not the option? In the language of the current ecumenical debate, found in the World Council's Faith and Order Paper called Baptism, Eucharist and Ministry, there are "some churches which unite both infant-baptist and believer-baptist traditions," and in them


it has been possible to regard as equivalent alternatives for entry into the Church both a pattern whereby baptism in infancy is followed by later profession of faith and a pattern whereby believers' baptism follows upon a presentation and blessing in infancy.7


As I said, the question is more than mere theological probing. Fact is, so I discovered to my amazement, we are already there. Of the five congregations represented by my questioners, one now offers the option and has for some time, another is soon to follow. A third has not introduced dedication as a ceremony but does tolerate membership of those who do not embrace the baptism of infants, be it with certain conditions. A fourth has consciously stopped disciplinary procedures still dictated by our tradition for those who refuse the baptism of their newborn children. And the fifth is deliberately admitting those not committed to the practice to communicant membership with only two restrictions: Such members will be ineligible for office and may not serve in a teaching capacity until they have a change of heart. The compromise was even sanctioned by one of our classes.8 The "sleeper" is awaking.

The significance of this issue should not escape us. We've spent more than two decades on women's ordination. Yet we are officially agreed, so said the Synod of 1989, that this "has not been regarded as a creedal matter."9 What that means is not that Scripture and confessions have absolutely no light to shed on the issue. Rather, this much is clear: The creeds do not explicitly raise the question, do not explicitly answer it, hence do not bind us one way or another. The same may be said of the creation/evolution debate that has caused us so much anguish. Our creeds predate the questions in their current formulation. That's precisely why the issue is not so easily settled. But what of infant baptism and believers' baptism? This question, in exact same forms, was first raised in the sixteenth century and the Reformed creeds address it with not a hint of obscurity.10 Indeed, they speak passionately, as for example Calvin's Geneva Catechism of 1541:


What is at stake here is our confessional integrity, our signatures under the Form of Subscription, our identity as a Reformed community within the larger body of Christ.


II. The Impulse


Why are at least some of our churches drifting in this direction? Why, in view of our heritage, even consider the dedication of infants as an optional ceremony? Let me share with you in four points what I've heard and what I suspect when I read between the lines.

First, we must acknowledge the fact that the practice of infant baptism in the universal church, also in ours, has its "discomfort zone." People are fed up with what has only too often degenerated into meaningless ritual, full of churchiness but devoid of the gospel. We've all heard, I'm sure, of mass baptisms in huge cathedrals where priests seemed oblivious even to the names of those involved; or, what's worse, of missionary settings where a secular lust for power has caused the church to trample on the dignity of its converts. People, intensely hurt by it, still speak of it in Africa, in Latin America, or, closer to home, in the Navajo nation. Is it any wonder, then, that a joy-filled experiential brand of Pentecostalism is claiming its thousands upon thousands? Or else consider our own Calvinist tradition we, with our accent on the sovereignty of God, on divine election, on irresistible grace where the task of discipling our children and challenging them to an active faith in our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ is so often neglected. Some even justify such neglect with a neatly articulated doctrine of presumptive regeneration. There has been and still is a deadly automatism among us. And we must come to terms with the fact that it is not just newcomers to our denomination, not just the uninformed, but people born, raised, and catechized in our own circles, even past elders and deacons, who suddenly inform the pastor that, as for their fourth child, they'd sooner not have her baptized until she's come to a conscious confession herself. This "discomfort zone," this dark side of infant baptism, we dare not ignore.

Second, our denomination is finally becoming a "gathering church," but not without some pressures. Spurred on by dedicated home missions personnel, we're slowly learning to transcend our cultural and religious isolationism, opening our doors as they should have been all along to the "unfamiliar," the lost or disaffected who may not be Dutch but need to be found for the Lord. Church planting is the order of the day. In this, we rejoice, for it is nothing other than a greater obedience to the mandate of our Lord in Matthew 28. Go then, he said, and make disciples. But this too has its "shadow side." For in our newfound zeal we face new pressures: pressures to lower the "barriers" that stand in the way of our goals, to make our standards of membership less stringent, to move away from our peculiarities to a common denominator of Christian churches: the mere confession of Christ as Lord and Savior, and very little else. Think only of the published polity of the People's Church in Willowdale, Ontario, Canada, a suburb of Toronto:


We dedicate children, baptize believers, and observe the Lord's Supper, but we do not make baptism a door to communion or church membership.13


My questioners speak of the joy of conversion, soon shattered by what are considered to be impossible demands like having to understand covenant theology overnight. They will allow the dedication, they tell me, then lead the parents into the joyous refinements of Calvinist faith. But will they? And will they succeed? That is the question.

Third, closely related, North American evangelicals are rapidly abandoning the doctrine of the church. Robert&nbspW. Patterson recently lamented this phenomenon in an issue of Christianity Today. He speaks of individualist "church nomads" who are "plagued by what some have dubbed the `McChristian mentality,'" "operating as sovereign ecclesiastical consumers," hopping "from church to church looking for the best spiritual `deal' in town." Thus, Patterson argues, these "nomads" refuse to submit themselves to the authority of any one church, failing to understand that "if the church is a nurturing mother for the souls of believers, as John Calvin proclaimed, those disconnected from her are nothing more than spiritual orphans."14 Sociologist Reginald Bibby speaks of Canadians who are into "religion a la carte," and of a noticeable "circulation of the saints,"15 just as Charles Colson writes of those who now seem to think of Christianity as "a solitary belief system."16 In such a climate, little remains of the notion of baptism, not merely as union with Christ, but also and unavoidably as incorporation into his body, the church, outside of which there is no salvation.17 In my judgment, the Christian Reformed Church is as deeply affected by this weakened ecclesiology as any evangelical denomination. The result is not merely a lack of loyalty to local and broader church ministry. It is also a subtle pernicious desacramentalizing that only too often views baptism in general and infant baptism in particular as an irritant to be ignored at will.

And, fourth, baptism is increasingly understood among us as a symbol of or crown upon our faith rather than a sign and seal of the grace of God. Particularly striking in conversations on this issue is that opposition to infant baptism is now almost always expressed in experiential language. A nominal Roman Catholic person wishes to join our church by way of rebaptism because, in her words, "it was nothing more than custom and superstition. The priest sprinkled me and nine others without a word. It was time for his morning coffee." "It's just plain wrong," said one father, born and raised in our denomination, "to take away the choice my son should one day make himself."

In a student handout distributed in the seventies, our late colleague, friend, and teacher Anthony Hoekema once summarized, then responded to the arguments he'd heard people advance against infant baptism. Of the thirteen-and- some pages, twelve-and-one-half were devoted to arguments based on the relation between Old and New Testaments, on the meaning of baptism and on exegetical considerations. Just slightly over one-half a page, at the very end, touched briefly on arguments based on practical difficulties.18 Times have changed. Most find the theology of the sacrament irrelevant. They have no patience to discuss whatever the relationship might be between baptism and circumcision. What's important is what they merely intuit as the New Testament norm: People come to faith and then are baptized. Forgiveness, cleansing, new life in Christ, these things, axiomatically, are first to be experienced, to be grasped in faith, and only then to be celebrated.

Such erosion at our font has come about, not just because those "outsiders," those contemporary Anabaptists whose "error" we have been taught to "detest,"19 are blowing strange winds of doctrine across the ridges of our land. Truth is, our soil is losing its Calvinist cohesion from within. As William Willimon reminds us, even "supporters of infant baptism" have somehow come to focus "upon the recipient of the sacrament rather than upon the chief actor in the sacrament," "upon the rights, disposition, choices, feelings, and future of the recipient of baptism rather than upon God or God's church."20 If faith speaks louder than grace, a ceremony of dedication will clearly suffice not merely as an option but soon, sooner than we think, a substitute in all our churches.


III. An Appraisal


How shall we approach this issue, how evaluate it? Allow me, in the little time I have left, to make a start.

Let it be clear from the outset that I have nothing against dedicating our little ones to the Lord. Although I thought it hilarious at the time, I am upon more sober reflection not so fond of hearing the kind of passionate rhetoric that befell one pastor when, in the heat of the moment, he described his opponents as those who want "nothing but a despicable dry cleaning." In truth, it has always been a significant element in our celebration of infant baptism. But dedication as an element in the act of worship is one thing, as liturgical option to the sacrament another.

First, the practice of infant baptism is biblically sanctioned and apostolically confirmed. Although there is no explicit command to be found anywhere in the New Testament, I am content with the argument that such was plainly unnecessary. There is nothing that forbids it. As Wilbert Van Dyk put it in a well-written Master's thesis, "the testimony of Scripture concerning the baptism of the infants of believing parents is not specific; it is cumulative. The starting point is the unity of the Bible."21 Exegeted with an eye to the continuity of old and new covenants, the abundance of scriptural references traditionally adduced by Reformed thinkers leaves little doubt that our Lord intended it for the church.22 It is the natural fulfilment of Abrahamic circumcision which is not, as some claim, an inferior "carnal" ceremony but itself the seal of a "spiritual" setting apart of God's chosen people.23

The blatant abuses of infant baptism mass baptisms for secular power purposes in some traditions, automatism in our own must not lead us to conclude that the practice was a clever invention of Constantinian Christendom, one unrepentantly maintained in our day in the delusion that the days of "churched cultures" are still with us.24 As for the apostolic era, in a classic exchange with Kurt Aland, German New Testament scholar Joachim Jeremias has shown beyond a shadow of a doubt that Tertullian, Origen, Cyprian, and other church fathers "are unanimous in showing that it was then the natural and traditional practice of the Church."25 Even in our "post-Constantinian" age, as Gerhard Forde puts it, "none of the abuses attributed to a `too liberal' practice of infant baptism will be corrected by withdrawing it. That is like withholding food from the starving until they have a proper concept of nourishment."26

The slogan "once baptized, forever saved" may never be ours. That is why we welcome recent changes in our Church Order that more explicitly bind the churches to a "nurturing ministry" for young and old.27 All the same, it is the doctrine of believers baptism that necessarily excludes that of infants that is the "Johnny-come-lately" on the scene. And along with the Reformers we confess one, holy, catholic, and apostolic church.

Second, there is danger in creating a new class of professing members who will not be eligible for office or teaching positions in the church. It is certainly not the only way to solve the dilemmas posed by our discipling strategy. In saying this, I am fully aware of the decision of the Synod of 1959 that there must be "no stereotyped pattern of confession that may be applied by consistories .&nbsp.&nbsp. in the reception of members" and that "allowance must be made for the diverse levels of understanding of the implications of a truly Christian confession on the part of those who may be deemed eligible .&nbsp.&nbsp. for communicant membership." I agree that "office in the church presupposes spiritual gifts for the office and doctrinal understanding and competence which may not be imposed as a condition of church membership."28 But surely a doctrine and practice as integral to the Reformed faith as that of infant baptism involves more than a minor and nonessential implication of a truly Christian confession. What if, in fact, we should judge it to be a creedal nonnegotiable? We must take great care, lest we return to the days when the "clergy" relished keeping the "laity" in the dark.

How then, nonetheless, to welcome to Christ and his church those who have not fully embraced our covenant theology? The solution, I submit, lies in the direction of a step between baptism and our traditional profession of faith, one that we might call an "affirmation of baptism," which basically incorporates three elements: (1)believing response to what God has done, (2)simple, uncomplicated taking upon oneself the faith of the Apostles' Creed, and (3) commitment to explore, then profess a full-orbed "Reformed confession," that, so the Synod of 1959 also asserted, is but the natural consequence of a "Christian confession."29 Such a solution may hold equal promise for the issue of children at communion, but that is one we cannot now explore.30

Third, baptism is not an individual or even family matter but, rather, a sacrament celebrated by the covenant community as a whole. It is more than a blessing of God on our biological or even spiritual offspring. It is incorporation into the church of all ages that never ceases to confess amazing grace. I am not insensitive to the fact that Grandpa must come from Cedar Rapids for the occasion. It's a special time for any family. But covenant lines run to the infant through the family of God, the body of Christ, the entire church. Each baptism is celebrated by all as a constant reminder of the origins of our faith, our incorporation, our obedience. Even Timothy George, staunch defender of what he calls a Reformed doctrine of believers' baptism, had the candor to note that an "antidote" is needed to "the theological minimalism and atomistic individualism that prevail in many credobaptist churches in our culture."31

We are agreed that the sacraments do not save ex opere operato, that they must be received in faith. Oddly enough, many of us go on from there to argue that while this is true for the Supper, it need not be so for infant baptism. The child, after all, cannot yet profess the faith. Thus, the baptism of infants is merely a sign and seal of God's promise, no more. But this misses the mark entirely. No sacrament, not even infant baptism, is complete without the element of faith. But and this is the point operative here is the faith of the corpus that celebrates, the body of Christ whose creedal air the child will soon be breathing. In the words of Charles West as he sums up New Testament teaching: "The faith of the one who comes to baptism clearly plays a role, but this `one' may be an individual, a household, a throng of 3000 people swept by one spirit, or a whole ethnos."32

And, fourth, we must realize once again that nothing speaks of God's grace quite as profoundly as the water of baptism administered to an uncomprehending child. Baptism does not just hold out the promise of possible salvation it proclaims it. The sacraments of the church are not like our annual church picnics: events we choose to celebrate because it seems fitting and right and even edifying. They are God-ordained, as our creed says, "to seal his promises in us, to pledge his good will and grace toward us, and also to nourish and sustain our faith."33 So at his command, the church gathers around the font yes, also with its newborn in its arms not so much to present an individual, nor even so much to have that individual blessed, but to stand there as a community, prompted by this water of grace to remember and proclaim with Paul the apostle the marvelous truth that "he chose us in him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight."34 Willimon puts it so well:


Like almost everyone else in our modern world, we Christians have put too much stress on human doubts, strivings, misdeeds, questions, aspirations, and too little stress upon God. In our Sunday worship, we incessantly chatter about human sin, human problems, human questions, human feelings. We tirelessly reiterate and catalog all the evidences of human frailty and falsehood. We tell people to get out there and start living right or thinking right or feeling right. We present the Christian faith as an achievement, a goal, an attainment of sincere and struggling sinners who are earnestly trying to get right with God. This all sounds reasonable in our self-help, achievement-oriented society. But it does not sound like Good News. The Good News says that we do not need to `get right with God.' The gospel says we are right with God. We do not need to work to get anywhere. We have arrived. We are not miserable wretches inching our way into God's good graces. We are royalty who already have assigned seats in the Kingdom by God's grace.35


Perhaps, instead of bowing to credobaptist pressure, the Christian Reformed Church should institutionalize its contribution to the evangelical world. Perhaps, when adults enter into our fellowship, we should baptize them first, then hear their profession. Liturgically, that would put it right side up. As the familiar hymn would have it: "I sought the Lord, and afterward I knew he moved my soul to seek him, seeking me." My colleague and friend John Bolt once preached on the need to be born again and entitled his sermon: "All Baptism Is Infant Baptism." That's food for thought. Listen, just once more, to Willimon:


Thus, I arrive at my tentative conclusion. The "sleeper" must yet be fully awakened. And it will bear more probing and debate. But until I stand corrected, I cannot escape the thought that allowing parents to opt for dedication legalizes robbery. However pure the motives of those involved, such tolerance robs not only the parents but the entire church of God of opportunities to confess with amazement the mysteries of God's sovereign grace. And, what's worse, it robs Him of a channel He chose to proclaim that love in Christ with utter simplicity to all who will see and hear.


End Notes:


1. Article 20.

2. The Banner, 128 (August 9, 1993), 7.

3. Ibid.

4. "Teachers and the Teaching Authority: The Magistri and the Magisterium," The Ecumenical Review 38 (April, 1986), 197.

5. Article 56.

6. Lord's Day 27, Q. & A. 74.

7. Baptism, Eucharist and Ministry (Geneva: WCC, 1982), 5.

8. Minutes, Classis Central California, March 2, 1993, art. 27, d.

9. Acts of Synod, 1989, art. 15, 433. Cf., also Acts of Synod, 1990, art. 92, 654.

10. Belgic Confession, Article 34; Heidelberg Catechism, Lord's Day 27, Q. & A. 74; Canons of Dort, Article I, 17 and "Conclusion."

11. Q & A 338, cited from T.&nbspF. Torrance, The School of Faith (London: James Clarke & Co., 1959), 59.

12. Cf., Church Order, article 5.

13. Cited by Robert&nbspW. Patterson, "In Search of the Visible Church," Christianity Today 35, no. 3 (March 11, 1991), 36.

14. Ibid.

15. Fragmented Gods (Toronto: Irwin, 1987), 80, 121.

16. The Body (Dallas: Word, 1992), 32.

17. Cf., Belgic Confession, Article 28.

18. "Arguments Advanced Against Infant Baptism," unpublished.

19. Belgic Confession, Article 34.

20. Remember Who You Are (Nashville: The Upper Room, 1980), 37, 38.

21. A Reexamination of the Evidence in Support of Infant Baptism (Th.M. diss., Calvin Theological Seminary, 1976), 16.

22. See, e.g., L.&nbspBerkhof, Systematic Theology, 4th ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1949), 632-35.

23. Gen. 17:7, 11; Rom. 4:11; Col. 2:11, 12.

24. See, e.g., Kennon&nbspL. Callahan, Effective Church Leadership (San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1990), 13, 14.

25. The Origins of Infant Baptism (Naperville: Alec&nbspR. Allenson, 1963), 75.

26. "Something to Believe," Interpretation 47, no. 3 (July, 1993), 240.

27. Articles 63, 64.

28. Acts of Synod, 1959, art. 76, 22. Cf. Acts of Synod, 1964, art. 101, 63.

29. Ibid. "The confession made by the candidate for communicant membership must not be construed on the assumption that a disjunction may properly be made between a Christian confession and a Reformed confession."

30. The solution would involve three levels of membership: baptized, communicant and professing.

31. "The Reformed Doctrine of Believers' Baptism," Interpretation 47, no. 3 (July, 1993), 251.

32. "Baptism in the Reformed Tradition," in Baptism, Peace and the State in the Reformed and Mennonite Traditions, ed. Ross&nbspT. Bender and Alan P.&nbspF. Sell (Waterloo: Wilfrid Laurier University Press, 1991), 19, 20.

33. Belgic Confession, Article 33.

34. Eph. 1:4.

35. Op. cit., 28.

36. Ibid., 71.