DO I BELIEVE IN BAPTISMAL
REGENERATION?
By Rich Lusk
Introduction
I appreciate Andy Webb’s
recent entry into the current discussion over baptismal efficacy.[1] This is an issue which has consumed a great
deal of time and energy in the Reformed world in recent years. It is not likely to subside soon. As a contributing party to the discussion, I
read Webb’s article with great interest.[2]
I commend Webb for his
zeal in defending his convictions. He
understands that a great deal is at stake in our differing baptismal
theologies. I also appreciate his
moderated rhetoric. His work was
entirely devoid of name calling and mud slinging. In that respect, it represents a great leap forward in the
debate, and many of Webb’s elder counterparts would do well to emulate his tone. Frankly, in reading Webb’s piece, I was
surprised (and gratified) at how much ground he was willing to concede to those
he opposes in this intramural Reformed discussion. He understands, better than many, that there have been a variety
of positions on baptismal efficacy under the umbrella of Reformed
Christianity. I am responding to Webb
because I think he has misunderstood my position and this is an opportunity to
provide clarification. In some ways, I
hope to show that Webb and I are not as far apart as he supposes; in other
ways, I hope to show that his arrows have simply missed their target because he
does not understand what I (and others) have written. I also hope to show that my views on baptism are well within the
mainstream of the Reformed confessional tradition.
What is Baptismal Regeneration?
To cut to the chase, let
me begin by asking: Have I espoused a form of baptismal
regeneration? Is baptismal regeneration
being taught in the Reformed community?
Webb begins and ends his essay arguing that baptismal regeneration
simply isn’t Reformed. Webb quotes John
“Rabbi” Duncan, to the effect that “baptismal regeneration” is simply
incompatible with the principles of Calvinism:
In
a letter to Charles Haddon Spurgeon, the great 19th century
Scottish Presbyterian Pastor and Theologian John “Rabbi” Duncan wrote,
regarding the concept of baptismal regeneration, “Horrible as the
doctrine of baptismal regeneration is, it would be still more so if
combined with those scriptural principles which are usually called
Calvinism.”
What exactly is the
doctrine in question? What do baptismal
regenerationists teach? What is the
essence of their error? Webb relies on
Charles Hodge for his definition:
The
doctrine of baptismal regeneration, that is, the doctrine that
inward spiritual renovation always attends baptism rightly administered
to the unresisting, and that regeneration is never effected without it,
is contrary to Scripture, subversive of evangelical religion, and
opposed to universal experience. It is, moreover, utterly
irreconcilable with the doctrine of the Reformed churches. For that
doctrine teaches that all the regenerated are saved. “Whom God calls
them he also glorifies,” Romans 8:30. It is, however, plain from
Scripture, and in accordance with the faith of the universal church,
that multitudes of the baptized perish. The baptized, therefore, as
such, are not the regenerated.
Hodge’s
definition includes three basic components that need careful analysis:
[1] Inward spiritual renovation always accompanies the right
administration of baptism.
[2] Regeneration is never effected without baptism (with the implication that all the
unbaptized, including infants, perish).
[3] Many of the baptized obviously perish, meaning
that not all who are regenerated persevere into final glorification.
Actually,
I do not hold any of these three tenets.
In my writings on baptism, I have attempted to steer clear of these
errors (and, with Webb, I do in fact consider them to be serious errors). I should also add that I have only rarely
used “baptismal regeneration” language, and generally when it shows up in my
writings, it is in a quotation from an early Reformer (like Calvin or Bucer)
who used the terminology quite differently from nineteenth century Reformed theologians,
as we shall see. I have no desire to
insist on “baptismal regeneration” language, and I understand the confusion
that attends it. With those caveats in
view, let us look at each one of Hodge’s tenets in turn.
[1] I do not believe that everyone who is
baptized has a “permanently transformed heart” or “a new principle of life
communicated to the soul.” In fact, while
affirming what Hodge’s doctrine of regeneration intends to protect (divine
monergism and the gift-nature of faith), I would suggest a somewhat different
understanding of “regeneration” is possible.
The term “regeneration” has some flexibility, both in the Bible and in
church history (including Reformed theology).
Before accepting or condemning any particular version of “baptismal
regeneration” as orthodox or heretical, we need to make clear just what
“regeneration” means in a given context.
What
is “regeneration”? In terms of biblical
theology, the term seems to refer to the nexus of three eschatological lines of
development within the biblical story.
Regeneration is [1] the new state of affairs inaugurated by Christ,
otherwise known as the kingdom of God; [2] the new age on the
redemptive-historical timeline, sometimes referred to as the messianic age or
the new covenant epoch; and [3] the new community or new humanity that belongs
to this new kingdom and age, called the church. The term “regeneration” partakes of the already/not yet dynamic
of New Testament biblical theology in general: the regeneration is already
present, but not yet consummated. The
term “regeneration” can be used both objectively and subjectively, though the biblical
emphasis falls on the objective.
Objectively considered, we can affirm a doctrine of “baptismal
regeneration” without getting into the problems Hodge identifies; subjectively,
“baptismal regeneration” can only be affirmed in an extremely attenuated sense,
if at all (we’ll see that subjectively, the term has been used in different
ways as well, to refer to new life in the church, the beginning of life-long
sanctification, or, in Hodge’s sense of a secret, irreversible work of God in
the soul of an elect person).
First,
consider “baptismal regeneration” in an objective sense. If I were going to speak of “baptismal
regeneration,” I would define “regeneration” as the new life situation entered
into in baptism. This new life, in this
carefully specified sense, is not so much a matter of ontology or subjectivity
(Hodge’s focus), as it a matter of new relationships, privileges, and
responsibilities. It means one has a
new family and a new story, a new citizenship and a new status. It means something objective has been
changed, though subjectively one must still respond in faith, of course. Life in the regeneration, in this sense, is
not strictly limited to the elect.
A good biblical case can
be made for this objective understanding of regeneration. The “regeneration” of Mt. 19:28 (and Tit.
3:5, I would suggest) is clearly not an “inward spiritual renovation” but the
new state of affairs brought about in the kingdom of God. This is especially
evident in the Matthean text: the regeneration is something the disciples will
enter into, not something that will enter into them. It seems Jesus’ language is eschatological: he’s referring to the
messianic age, in which his disciples will begin ruling with him (cf. Dan. 7). The “regeneration” in this sense is simply
the new creation of the church.[3] To be baptized is to enter into the church
(WCF 28.1), which is “kingdom of the Lord Jesus Christ, the house and family of
God, outside of which there is no ordinary possibility of salvation” (WCF
25.2). This new standing in the
kingdom, house, and family constitutes “regeneration.”[4]
This
does not exclude a subjective regeneration in the ontological sense Hodge used
the term. And if subjective
regeneration is in view, I would not affirm
“baptismal regeneration.” Indeed such
an inner transformation is a secret of the heart and God’s decree and can not
be known with absolutely certainty by us.
But “baptismal regeneration” in an objective sense amounts to what has
sometimes been called “ecclesial regeneration,” and this seems to steer clear
of the problems commonly associated with the terminology.
Ecclesial
regeneration is really a claim about the church as much as it is a claim about
baptism. It focuses on the nature of
the community one enters in baptism.
The church is the “new thing” God has done, the new creation, the new
society, the one new man in which Jew and Gentile have been brought together in
Christ. Baptism, as the Westminster Standards teach, makes one a member
of the church – of this new community. That is quite a different claim
than asserting that each and every person baptized has a “permanent,
irreversible principle of life communicated to the soul” or something of that
nature.
Thus,
in this alternative theological lexicon, “baptismal regeneration” does not necessarily
mean what Hodge and Webb take it to mean.
The language can be used in more than one way, objectively and
subjectively, ecclesially or individually.
This makes discussion difficult, but we must understand each speaker on
his own terms. In general, I have
avoided “baptismal regeneration” language for just this reason.
The term “regeneration”
has been very fluid in church history, and this accounts for some of the
problems. In the early church, it was
simply synonymous with baptism. Baptism
was regarded as the beginning of one’s “new life” in Christ. For the early Reformers, like Calvin, regeneration
was not an instantaneous event, but the entire life long process of renewal,
commencing in baptism and reaching completion in glorification.
Calvin defines
regeneration in the Institutes:
I
interpret repentance as regeneration, whose sole end is to restore in us the
image of God . . . we are restored by this regeneration through the benefit of
Christ into the righteousness of God . . . And indeed this restoration does not
take place in one moment or one day or one year; but through continual and
sometimes even slow advances God wipes out in his elect the corruptions of the
flesh, cleanses them of guilt, consecrates them to himsef as temples, renewing
all their minds to true purity that they may practice repentance throughout
their lives and know that this warfare will only end at death" (3.3.9).
For Calvin, regeneration
is the beginning of sanctification.
Regeneration is not prior to faith; it is by faith: “Now both repentance
and forgiveness of sins--that is, newness of life and free reconciliation--are
conferred on us by Christ, and both are attained by us through faith” (3.3.1;
cf. Belgic Confession 24 and Col. 2:12: “raised with Him through faith . . . “).
Calvin then ties
regeneration and baptism together:
For
as God, regenerating us in baptism, ingrafts us into the fellowship of his
Church, and makes us his by adoption, so we have said that he performs the
office of a provident parent, in continually supplying the food by which he may
sustain and preserve us in the life to which he has begotten us by his word (4.17.1).
But surely this
Calvinian form of “baptismal regeneration” would not fall under the
condemnation of Duncan and Hodge. Calvin
has in view something objectively presented in baptism and subjectively
received by faith. But this isn’t to be
identified with Hodge’s irreversible inward renewal or new life-principle
communicated to the soul. Elsewhere, in
his Antidote to the Counsel of Trent,
Calvin wrote,
That
this may be more clear, let my readers call to mind that there is a two-fold
grace in baptism, for therein both remission of sins and regeneration are
offered to us. We teach that full
remission is made, but that regeneration is only begun, and goes on making
progress during the whole of life (1.5).
Calvin believed baptism
was an objective, effectual means of salvation, but it did not guarantee
salvation. In fact, baptism only blessed
those who received it (subjectively) in faith.
Again, the “regeneration” Calvin has in view is not identical to Hodge’s
definition of the same term. Baptism is
a good faith offer of new life, but
the grace of baptism isn’t necessarily irresistible.
Calvin also wrote in
reply to Westphal, “We hold, then, that baptism being a spiritual washing and a
sign of our regeneration, serves as an evidence that God introduces us into his
Church to make us, as it were, his children and heirs.” He writes that the “ordinary method in which
God accomplishes our salvation is by beginning it in baptism and carrying it
gradually forward during the course of life.”
He says in his Geneva Catechism that in baptism, we find, “First, forgiveness
of sins; and secondly, spiritual regeneration is figured by it.” Baptism is a sign or figure or symbol of
regeneration; but God’s signs are not empty:
“I understand it to be a figure, but still so that the reality is
annexed to it; for God does not disappoint us when he promises us his
gifts. Accordingly, it is certain that
both pardon of sins and newness of life are offered to us in baptism and
received by us.” In other words,
regeneration is not only symbolized in baptism; it is held out, to be received
by faith.
In explaining just what
at stake in his debate over baptism, he writes, “Let the readers therefore
remember, that we are not here disputing whether it is necessary to baptize infants,
nor calling in question whether by baptism they are ingrafted into the body of
Christ, nor whether it is to them a laver of regeneration, nor whether it seals
the pardon of their sins. The only question is the absolute necessity of
Baptism” (see pages 87, 153-5, 320 in the 2002 Christian Focus edition of his Treatises). In other words, Calvin is in agreement with those who teach
baptism is the means by which one is united to Christ, regenerated, and
pardoned.
For
later Reformed scholastics after Dordt (1618-19), the meaning of the term “regeneration”
narrowed to the moment of God’s initiating grace in a person’s life, resulting
in life-long faith and repentance. It
became almost exclusively subjective and individual, rather than corporate and
cosmic. Whereas Calvin and the Belgic
Confesion could tie together the objective and subjective, and speak of
regeneration by faith (with the
understanding that faith itself was a divine gift and the means by which one
entered into a new life in the covenant community), now regeneration came to be
seen as the very source of faith. Such
a shift in terminology was necessitated by the Arminian controversy. But of course, this also meant that the Reformed
scholastics of the day had to jettison the earlier “baptismal regeneration”
language of the Reformers. It no longer
made good theological sense to speak of “baptismal regeneration” since no one
wanted to suggest that baptism guaranteed perseverance or final salvation. The close connection between baptism and
regeneration in Calvin’s soteriology was severed and any notion of “objective
regeneration” was lost. Of course,
Hodge’s understanding and use of the term “regeneration” stems more from Dordt
than from Calvin.
In
more recent biblical theology, “regeneration” has regained its full redemptive-historical
overtones. Texts such as Mt. 19:28 and
Tit. 3:5 have been read with their pregnant eschatological dimensions, in a
more objective sense. Reformed writers
such as Norm Shepherd, Peter Leithart, and Joel Garver have used “baptismal
regeneration” language in this broader sense to describe entry into the “new
creation” or the “new humanity.”[5] But, again, it is understood that baptism
does not secure final glorification; rather it marks someone’s initiation into
the church, with all its attendant privileges and responsibilities. It is an objective offer of “new life” and
“new status” that must be received by faith in order to culminate in final
salvation.
So
“baptismal regeneration” has been a moving target in Reformed history. The terminology hasn’t been standing
still. Of course, different meanings of
the term can be used with great profit and truth in a given context. But it would be improper to insist that we
freeze the meaning of the term to just one time period or branch of the
historical church.[6] “Baptismal regeneration” may be orthodox or
heretical; we must ask precisely what the speaker means when he employs the
terms. To see this, all one has to do
is compare Calvin and Hodge.
The
priority of God’s grace is not in question here. Salvation is a gift, from beginning to end, inclusive of all the
means (even faith!) needed to reach that end.
I am quite comfortable with using “regeneration” terminology in a
variety of ways (e.g., to refer to a person’s new nature), some compatible with
“baptismal regeneration” and others not.
But I have been careful to spell out that “baptismal regeneration” in the
sense I have been using is the term (which, again, is rare anyway) is not the
same as “regeneration” in later Reformed scholastics such as Hodge. By the definition of “baptismal regeneration”
that Webb seems to have in view, I am most certainly not a baptismal regenerationist.
[2] In my writing on baptism, I have been careful
that to state that baptism is God’s ordinary
means of bringing people into the new creation/regeneration, understood objectively
in terms of WCF 25.2’s description of the church as kingdom/house/family. But baptism is not absolutely necessary to salvation.
There may be, and in fact are, various exceptions to WCF 25.2’s claim
that no salvation is found outside the community of the baptized. For example, a child of the covenant who
dies before receiving baptism dies under the provisions of the promise. We know that God’s covenantal intention was to publicly and formally
adopt that child as his own in the waters of baptism. In the providence of God, that possibility was precluded. But we dare not pit God’s promises against
God’s providence. In a case such as
this, the promise simply comes to fulfillment in a different way. I am not advocating a cookie-cutter ordo salutis that makes baptism
indispensable in any and every situation.
Of
course, our Confession wisely takes note of just these sorts of circumstances. While the confession is silent regarding the
death of covenant infants,[7]
it does make provision for the extraordinary possibility of salvation outside
of the “new creation” of the visible church (note the use of “ordinarily” in
25.2). Baptism is the door to the
church. It is the way into the kingdom
and family of God. But we should not
apply this rigidly or mechanically. There
can be exceptions, ordered by God’s own providence. The same Word of God that warranted baptism warrants us to believe
that God has taken the child to be with him in glory.[8] In other cases, adult believers may die
unbaptized due to extenuating circumstances; and again, we need not fear that
the Judge of all the earth will fail to do what is right.
Calvin
understood precisely this point in regard to the ordinary necessity of baptism for salvation, and the extraordinary possibility of salvation
apart from baptism. In his Antidote, he says,
We,
too, acknowledge that the use of Baptism is necessary--that no one may omit it
from either neglect or contempt. In this way we by no means make it free [that
is, optional]. And not only do we strictly bind the faithful to the observance
of it, but we also maintain that it is the ordinary instrument of God in
washing and renewing us; in short, in communicating to us salvation. The only
exception we make is, that the hand of God must not be tied down to the
instrument. He may of himself accomplish salvation. For when an opportunity for
Baptism is wanting, the promise of God alone is amply sufficient (7.5).
To
put it another way, while God may not be
bound by his external ordinances, for all practical purposes, we are so bound. But there is certainly not a one-to-one relationship between
regeneration (at least in Hodge’s sense) and baptism. We must take into account the situational perspective.
[3] Because “regeneration” may have other
definitions than just the “inward spiritual renovation” of an individual’s
heart, it does not have to function in an ordo
salutis in the way Hodge envisions.
While Hodge’s emphasis on God’s sovereign grace is entirely correct, many
in the Reformed tradition have wanted to keep a link between baptism and
regeneration. But even then, no one
asserts that baptism is a complete and entire salvation all by itself, apart
from the faithful response of the one baptized. Baptism is not a “get out of hell free” card, come what may. Baptism does not belong to an unbreakable
“golden chain of salvation.” In fact,
as I’ve pointed out before, I know of no recognizably orthodox theologian in
the history of the church in any of its branches who has argued that baptism
saved a person no matter how he lived subsequent to baptism. Thus, I am not at all clear who Hodge is
seeking to refute.[9] Certain definitions of “regeneration” may
necessitate the view that “all the regenerated are saved,” and will therefore
exclude any version of baptismal regeneration.
But those definitions should not be privileged over other Reformed definitions
which leave open the possibility of apostasy or view regeneration as an
extended process (e.g., Calvin’s definition of “regeneration” as life-long
renewal beginning at baptism rather than Hodge’s secret inception of permanent
new life).
For
example, in the Old Covenant, Saul received a “new heart” and became a “new man”
(1 Sam 10). In some sense, surely we can say he was regenerate. And yet he apostatized and will not be
glorified at the last day. In the New
Covenant, Paul tells the Corinthians they are temples of God. The Spirit indwells them. In some
sense, surely we can refer to them as regenerate. And yet Paul holds forth the very real possibility that some of
them may apostatize (1 Cor. 10). In the
parable of the soils, Jesus speaks of those who received the word with joy and
sprang to new life, but later withered away under the heat of persecution. Surely, there was regeneration is some general sense.
To
summarize, then, the version of “baptismal regeneration” I have advocated (and,
to repeat myself, by no means would I insist on that terminology) is not the
one that Hodge refutes. Or to put it
another way, if we use theological dictionary of Hodge and Webb, I most certainly do not believe in
regeneration! I would gladly join
with Hodge and Webb in refuting “baptismal regeneration” as Hodge defines it. If I taught what Webb assumes that I teach,
I would gladly join him in condemning me.
I agree with Hodge that it is absurd to even remotely suggest that every
last person baptized will be saved in the end.
Will the Real Reformers Please
Stand Up?
All that being said, it
must be noted that I can say everything
I want to say about baptism by simply quoting the Reformers and the
Standards. I don’t go beyond anything
that can be found in their writings or in the confessions they produced.
Consider again John
Calvin, from his Institutes:
We
must realize that at whatever time we are baptized, we are once for all washed
and purged for our whole life. Therefore, as often as we fall away, we
ought to recall the memory of our baptism and fortify our mind with it, that we
may always be sure and confident of the forgiveness of sins (4.15.3).
In 4.15.4, he writes
further on the comfort of baptism:
Therefore,
there is no doubt that all pious folk throughout life, whenever they are
troubled by a consciousness of their faults, may venture to remind themselves
of their baptism, that from it they may be confirmed in assurance of that sole
and perpetual cleansing which we have in Christ’s blood.
In other words, baptism
is the instrument of forgiveness, and therefore of the assurance of forgiveness
as well. In baptism, cleansing from sin
is made available, to be received by faith.
Calvin views absolution as a renewal of the baptismal covenant:
I
know it is a common belief that forgiveness, which at our first
regeneration we receive by baptism alone, is after baptism procured by means
of penitence and the keys. But those who entertain this fiction err from not
considering that the power of the keys, of which they speak, so depends on
baptism, that it ought not on any account to be separated from it. The
sinner receives forgiveness by the ministry of the Church; in other words,
not without the preaching of the gospel. And of what nature is this
preaching? That we are washed from our sins by the blood of Christ. And what
is the sign and evidence of that washing if it be not baptism? We see, then,
that that forgiveness has reference to baptism. This error had its origin in
the fictitious sacrament of penance, on which I have already touched
(4.15.4).
Penance is not necessary
because our one baptism covers us for our entire lives.
Calvin affirms that
regeneration – new life in Christ – commences in baptism:
Here we say nothing more than the apostle Paul expounds most clearly in the
sixth and seventh chapters of the Epistle to the Romans. He had discoursed
of free justification, but as some wicked men thence inferred that they were
to live as they listed, because their acceptance with God was not procured
by the merit of works, he adds, that all who are clothed with the
righteousness of Christ are at the same time regenerated by the Spirit, and
that we have an earnest of this regeneration in baptism. Hence he exhorts
believers not to allow sin to reign in their members (4.15.12).
Calvin views baptism as
playing a critical role in assuring believers.
Calvin viewed the sacraments as props, or supports for faith.
The
last advantage which our faith receives from baptism is its assuring us
not only that we are ingrafted into the death and life of Christ, but so
united to Christ himself as to be partakers of all his blessings. For he
consecrated and sanctified baptism in his own body, that he might have it in
common with us as the firmest bond of union and fellowship which he deigned
to form with us; and hence Paul proves us to be the sons of God, from the
fact that we put on Christ in baptism [Gal. 3:27]. Thus we see the
fulfilment of our baptism in Christ, whom for this reason we call the proper
object of baptism. Hence it is not strange that the apostles are said to
have baptized in the name of Christ, though they were enjoined to baptize in
the name of the Father and Spirit also [Acts 8:16; 19:5; Mt. 28:19]. For all
the divine gifts held forth in baptism are found in Christ alone. And yet he
who baptizes into Christ cannot but at the same time invoke the name of the
Father and the Spirit. For we are cleansed by his blood, just because our
gracious Father, of his incomparable mercy, willing to receive us into
favor, appointed him Mediator to effect our reconciliation with himself.
Regeneration we obtain from his death and resurrection only, when sanctified
by his Spirit we are imbued with a new and spiritual nature. Wherefore we
obtain, and in a manner distinctly perceive, in the Father the cause, in the
Son the matter, and in the Spirit the effect of our purification and
regeneration. Thus first John baptized, and thus afterwards the apostles by
the baptism of repentance for the remission of sins, understanding by the
term repentance, regeneration, and by the remission of sins, ablution
(4.15.6).
Calvin makes the same
points in commentary on Eph. 5. Here he
notes that baptism works as instrument in Christ’s hands:
But
there is no absurdity in saying that God uses the sign as an
instrument . . . Some are offended at this, thinking that it takes from
the Holy Spirit what is peculiar to Him. But they are mistaken . .
. Nothing is attributed to the sign than to be an inferior instrument,
useless in itself, except so far as it derives its power from elsewhere.
Baptism’s power comes
from elsewhere, namely from Christ. But
it does in fact have power! It is a
true and efficacious instrument through which the Spirit acts. It takes nothing away from the glory of the
Spirit to say that he uses means; it’s not as though credit for salvation is
divided between the Spirit and the sacrament.
All that is at stake here is the
manner in which the Spirit applies salvation. Does he do so with or without means? And if by means, what are those means? Preaching of the word is a means, but are the sacraments also
means? Calvin clearly answered
“Yes.” By the power of the Spirit,
baptism is an effectual means of redemption for believers. Calvin is careful to keep baptism
subordinated to the Spirit’s work and to faith, to be sure, but it is still
regarded as an instrument in granting forgiveness and cleansing.
Preaching on Gal. 3, he
says,
Again
Saint Paul means not that baptism, that is to say the water hath the power to
change us in such wise, that we should be clothed with out Lord Jesus Christ:
for by that means God should be robbed of the praise that is due to himself
alone. But he shows here the means whereby we may be certified that we are
members of our Lord
Jesus Christ's body . . . Therefore let us learn, that it is only God that
knits us to our Lord Jesus Christ, of his own mere goodness, and that he doth
it by the secret power of his Holy Spirit, and yet notwithstanding ceases not
to work by baptism as by an inferior instrument . . .
Once more, baptism is
the instrument of the Holt Spirit to
unite us to Christ. This is no
confusion of the sign with the thing signified. But there is an affirmation that God sovereignly and graciously
redeems us when we pass through the waters.
The Spirit and the water are not opposed but conjoined in a sacramental
union. And all this is for our
assurance, that our faith might have “certification” that we do in fact belong
to Christ.
We have already quoted
this portion from Calvin’s Antidote
to Trent, but here is one of Calvin’s more robust declarations about the
efficacy of baptism in fuller context:
We
assert that the whole guilt of sin is taken away in baptism, so
that the remains of sin still existing are not imputed. That this may
be more clear, let my readers call to mind that there is a twofold
grace in baptism, for therein both remission of sins and regeneration
are offered to us. We teach that full remission is made, but that
regeneration is only begun and goes on making progress during the
whole of life. Accordingly, sin truly remains in us, and is not
instantly in one day extinguished by baptism, but as the guilt is
effaced it is null in regard to imputation. Nothing is plainer than
this doctrine (1.5)
Later in the Antidote,
he writes just as forcefully:
For in the Sacraments God alone properly acts; men bring nothing of
their own, but approach to receive the grace offered to them. Thus,
in Baptism, God washed us by the blood of his Son and regenerated us
by his Spirit; in the Supper he feeds us with the flesh and blood of
Christ. What part of the work can man claim, without blasphemy,
since the whole appears to be of grace? The fact of the
administration being committed to men, derogates no more from the
operation of God than the hand does from the artificer, since God
alone acts by them, and does the whole . . .
For we ought to turn our thoughts not only to the sprinkling of
water, but also to the spiritual reality which begets the confidence
of a good conscience by the resurrection of Christ . . . Such
remembrance [of baptism], I say, not only makes sins venial, but altogether
obliterates them. Whenever there is any question of forgiveness of
sins, we must flee to Baptism and from it seek a confirmation of
forgiveness. For as God reconciles us to himself by the daily
promises of the Gospel, so the belief and certainty of this
reconciliation, which is daily repeated even to the end of life, he
seals to us by Baptism . . . (see 7.5, 7, 10).
Commenting on Tit. 3:5,
he writes,
Besides,
baptism - being the entrance into the Church and the symbol of our ingrafting
into Christ - is here appropriately introduced by Paul, when he intends to show
in what manner the grace of God appeared to us; so that the strain of the
passage runs thus: “God hath saved us by his mercy, the symbol and pledge of
which he gave in baptism, by admitting us into his Church, and ingrafting us
into the body of his Son.” Now the Apostles
are wont to draw an argument from the Sacraments, to prove that which is there
exhibited under a figure, because it ought to be held by
believers as a settled principle, that God does not sport with us by unmeaning
figures, but inwardly accomplishes by his power what he exhibits by the outward
sign; and therefore, baptism is fitly and truly said to be “the washing of
regeneration.” The efficacy and use of the sacraments will be properly
understood by him who shall connect the sign and the thing signified, in such a
manner as not to make the sign unmeaning and inefficacious, and who nevertheless
shall not, for the sake of adorning the sign, take away from the Holy Spirit
what belongs to him.
Obviously, then, Calvin believed
in an efficacious baptism. To deny this
is to suggest that God makes “sport” of us, mocking us with empty symbols that do
not fulfill their promises. But Calvin
spells out what this efficacy means with a fair degree of precision. He properly distinguishes the outward sign
itself from the thing signified, and insists on the necessity of faith for the
reception of the thing signified. The
objective and subjective are carefully delineated. The sacraments maintain their objective efficacy and force, even
if by hardness of heart, men reject the blessing of the sacrament. To be sure, “The power of the mystery [the
sacrament] remains in tact, no matter how much wicked men try to their utmost
to nullify it . . . [M]en bear away from this Sacrament no more than they
gather with the vessel of faith.” He
says, “Yet, it is one thing to be offered, and another to be received . . .the
Sacrament is one thing, the power of the Sacrament another.” Calvin clearly distinguished the objective
means (the sacrament) from the subjective receptor (faith). While discussing the Lord’s Supper, he uses
a most appropriate illustration for baptism: “[T]here is here no reason to lose
faith in the promises of God, who does not stop the rain from falling from
heaven, although rocks and stones do not receive the moisture of rain.” (4.17.33-34). Calvin also wrote, commenting
on 1 Cor. 11:27: “the efficacy of the
sacraments does not depend upon the worthiness of men . . . nothing is taken
away from the promises of God, or falls to the ground, through the wickedness
of men.” Baptism is objectively a means
of salvation, but what God offers and gives in baptism must be received by
faith in order for it to take effect. In other words, baptism functions analogously to the preaching of
the gospel.
While Calvin’s
catholicity allowed him to compromise for the sake of unity in the Consensus Tigurinus project, he knew the
health of the church ultimately required maintaining a high view of sacramental
efficacy. After Martin Bucer criticized
the document for its low sacramentalism, Calvin replied:
You
devoutly and prudently desire that the effect of the sacraments and what the Lord
confers to us through them be explicated more clearly and more fully than many
allow. Indeed it was not my fault that
these items were not fuller. Let us
therefore bear with a sigh that which cannot be corrected.
We should recall that
Calvin also subscribed to the Augsburg Confession, a Lutheran document, with a
more robust view of baptism. Calvin’s
view of baptism was almost imperceptibly different from Luther’s.[10] Calvin was catholic in all the best senses:
he wanted to maintain the church’s traditional high view of the sacraments, but
also wanted to keep fellowship with evangelical believers who did not.
Bucer himself maintained
a high view of baptismal efficacy. The
trajectory of his career led to ever higher and higher conceptions of the
sacraments. Consider these words from
his Brief Summary of Christian Doctrine
and Religion Taught at Strasbourg, a document which functioned as something
of a personal theological testament:
We
confess and teach that holy baptism, when given and received according to the
Lord’s command, is in the case of adults and of young children truly a baptism
of regeneration and renewal in the Holy Spirit, whereby those who are baptized
have all their sins washed away, are buried into the death of our Lord Jesus
Christ, are incorporated into him, and put on him for a new and godly life and
the blessed resurrection, and through him become children and heirs of God.
Thus, even infants are
capable of receiving regeneration – and in the rite of baptism, no less. Baptism is viewed not as a guarantee of
final salvation, but as the inception point of new life in Christ and the
church. This is virtually identical to
Calvin’s doctrine of baptismal regeneration.
Elsewhere Bucer spoke of “salvation” being “offered” and “conferred” in
baptism. But Bucer always insists that
only if faith is present is the thing given in baptism identical to the thing
received.
Ursinus’ commentary on
the Heidelberg Catechism (363ff) views covenant children as having already
entered the process of regeneration before baptism. Baptism is efficacious, though it would be a stretch to say
Ursinus held to baptismal regeneration as such. His comments are still worth examining:
Those are not to be excluded from baptism, to whom
the benefit of the remission of sins, and of regeneration belongs. But this benefit belongs to the infants of
the church; for redemption from sin, by the blood of Christ and the Holy
Ghost, the author of faith, is promised to them no less than to the adult. . .
Those
unto whom the things signified belong, unto them the sign also belongs. . .
[B]ut
that baptism ought to be administered to infants also; for they are holy; the
promise is unto them; the kingdom of
heaven is theirs; and God, who is certainly not the God of the wicked,
declares that he will also be their God.
Neither is there any condition in infants which would forbid the use of
baptism. Who then can forbid water, or
exclude them from baptism, seeing that they are partakers with the whole church
of the same blessings?. . .
[I]nfants have the Holy Ghost, and are regenerated
by him . . . If infants now have the Holy Ghost, he certainly works in them regeneration, good inclinations, new
desires, and such other things as are necessary for their salvation . . . Again, regeneration by the Holy Ghost,
and faith, or an inclination to faith and repentance are sufficient for
baptism; . . .
[Infants]
are baptized with water in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, [for] the
forgiveness of all their sins, the
giving of the Holy Spirit, and ingrafting into the church and into his
own body . . .
When baptism is, therefore, said to be the laver or
washing of regeneration, to save us,
or to wash away sins, it is meant that the external baptism is a sign of the
internal, that is, of regeneration, salvation and of spiritual absolution; and
this internal baptism is said to be joined with that which is external, in the
right and proper use of it.. . .
All, and only those who are renewed or being renewed, receive baptism lawfully, being baptized for
those ends for which Christ instituted this sacrament. . .
Since
the infant children of Christians are also included in the church into which
Christ will have all those who belong to him to be received and enrolled by
baptism; and as baptism has been substituted in the place of circumcision, by
which (as well to the infants as to the adults belonging to the seed of
Abraham,) justification, regeneration
and reception into the church were sealed by and for the sake of Christ . . .
Infants already possess
adoption and the Spirit before baptism, according to Ursinus. But baptism completes and ratifies their
possession of these things. Like
Calvin, he seeks to hold together the pre-baptismal status of the covenant child,
with a high view of sacramental efficacy (though I would say he does so with
considerably less success than Calvin).
Francis Turretin’s Institutes are more scholastic in tone,
but carry the same high view of baptism found in Calvin, Bucer, and many other
early Reformers. Turretin understood
that the issue of sacramental efficacy vis-à-vis Rome was complex. While the Reformers and Rome both agreed
that the sacraments were efficacious, the mode and nature of that efficacy was
a matter of dispute (19.8.6). For the
Reformers, the sacraments acquired their efficacy not from any inner, “magical,”
or physical power, but from the Word and Spirit. Baptism, for Turretin, covered post-baptismal sin, an important
point to note since Turretin also stressed the indwelling corruption that
remains in the baptized.
Turretin explains the
meaning of baptism in 19.11.9: “[T]he first sacrament of the Christian church,
by which upon the covenanted, having been received into the family of God by
the external sprinkling of water in the name of the Trinity, remission of sins
and regeneration by the blood of Christ and the Holy Spirit are bestowed and
sealed.” Obviously, a word like
“bestowed” should not be overlooked, though it could indicate Turretin has in
view a more objective than subjective understanding of regeneration.
For Turretin, the
sacraments are sure instruments of salvation in the hand of Christ. The sacraments function analogous to the
preached Word: “God does not trifle by instituting bare and empty signs; but as
by the vocal word he really performs what he promises, so in the sacrament
(which is a palpable and visible word) he gives by the thing itself that which
the signs represent” (19.1.12). In other words, the outward sign is the means
through which the thing signified is conferred.
Further, according to
Turretin, believers receive life-long benefit from baptism. The blessings of baptism persist “through
the whole course of life even up to death” (19.20.25), for “by baptism is
sealed to us the remission not only of past and present, but also future sins”
(19.20.12). Baptism is the basis for
post-baptismal absolution, just as in Calvin.
The efficacy of baptism is not limited to the time of its
administration.
Baptism is an
efficacious means of grace in Turretin’s system. Baptism is therefore ordinarily necessary to salvation:
Our
opinion, however, is that baptism is indeed necessary according to the divine
institution as an external means of salvation (by which God is efficacious in
its legitimate use), so that he who despises it is guilty of a heinous crime
and incurs eternal punishment. But we believe it is not so absolutely necessary
that he who is deprived of it by no fault of his own is to be forthwith
excluded from the kingdom of heaven and that salvation cannot be obtained
without it.
Even Charles Hodge could
speak in high terms of baptism’s efficacy.
Commenting on Eph. 5, he drew an analogy between the efficacy of
preaching and baptism:
God
is pleased to connect the benefits of redemption with the believing reception
of the truth. And he is pleased to connect these same benefits with the
believing reception of baptism. That is, as the Spirit works with and by the
truth, so he works with and by baptism, in communicating the blessings of the
covenant of grace. Therefore, as we are said to be saved by the word, with
equal propriety we are said to be saved by baptism . . .
Baptism, like the Word, is a means of
salvation. The believing reception of
baptism results in redemption, just like the believing reception of gospel
preaching.
While many Reformed
theologians have moved away from these sacramental views (often engaging in
historical revisionism to keep their Reformed pedigree pure), others have
maintained the tradition. For example, Herman
Ridderbos’ now classic Paul (ch. 10)
states, “Baptism . . . [is] the means
by which the church participates in the redemptive event that took place once
for all in Christ and receives a share in the gift of the Spirit.”
Baptism is viewed as
both “the symbol and the means of salvation . . . both in the ethical and in
the forensic sense.” In Tit. 3:5,
baptism is “understood in the context of the saving eschatological activity of
God (‘the appearing’ of his mercy, etc.) . . . which represents the total
renewal of the life of man . . .”
Baptism is both instrumental and transitional: “Baptism functions as the
instrument [of cleansing] . . . [T]he baptized passes over to the ownership of
him in whose name the baptismal act takes place.” Ridderbos claims baptism is the sacrament of union with Christ:
[B]aptism
binds one to Christ and the order of life represented by him. It is this union with Christ by baptism that
Paul intends when in Gal. 3:27 he describes baptism as ‘putting on Christ’. . .
[B]aptism makes one participate in Christ as him who, as the one seed of
Abraham and as the ‘second man,’ represents and contains within himself those
belonging to him. In that same sense
one can speak of being ‘baptized into his body.’
Ridderbos asks the question:
“[W]hat happens in or by baptism?” And
he answers:
[B]y
baptism, the believer becomes a sharer in what has taken place with Christ . .
. Because believers have been baptized they know, or at least they must and may
know, that they have once died, been buried, and raised with Christ (Rom. 6:3;
Col. 2:12). In that sense the later
characterization of baptism as the seal of belonging to Christ – a
qualification Paul uses for circumcision (Rom. 4:11) – is certainly not out of
place.
On
the other hand, the meaning of baptism is certainly not to be expressed
exclusively in noetic categories.
Baptism is also the means by which communion with the death and burial
of Christ comes into being (Rom. 6:4), the place where union is effected (Col.
2:12), the means by which Christ cleanses his church (Eph. 5:26), and God has
saved it (Tit. 3:5). All these
formulations speak clearly of the significance of baptism in mediating
redemption; they speak of what happens in and by baptism, and not merely of
what happened before baptism and of which baptism would only be the
confirmation . . . Baptism is the means in God’s hand, the place where he
speaks and acts.
Of course, Ridderbos,
like Calvin, insisted that what is offered and presented in baptism (namely
Christ and the new creation) must be received by faith: “There can consequently
be no suggestion that in Paul baptism can in any whatever be detached from
faith . . . faith is the implicit presupposition in baptism.” This excludes any suggestion that baptism
imparts salvation ex opere operato,
as Ridderbos points out. And yet, we
must guard against thinking that it is our faith that makes baptism effective:
It
is God who gives baptism its power . . . Neither does this make the operation
of baptism dependent on the condition of the recipient in the sense that only
faith can make baptism effectual, but it says that baptism remains dependent on
divine action, that God . . . maintains the correlation between faith and
baptism . . . God is the person who acts in baptism . . . [W]hile faith
according to its nature is an act of man, baptism according to its nature is an
activity of God and on the part of God.
That which the believer appropriates to himself on the proclamation of
the gospel God promises and bestows upon him in baptism.
The connection Ridderbos
detects between baptism and new creation may be regarded as a form of baptismal
regeneration, albeit in the objective sense:
Baptism,
however, according to its essence is once for all, because it marks the
transition from the mode of existence of the old man to that of the new. Baptism is a rite of incorporation, and as
such expresses the corporate communal character of the salvation given in
Christ. For this reason, faith is not
without baptism, just as baptism is not without faith . . . It is the washing
of regeneration for everyone who with his mouth confesses Jesus as Lord, and in
his heart believes that God has raised him from the dead (Rom. 10:9; Tit. 3:5)
. . . For it is in baptism that the believer has put on Christ (Gal. 3:27), and
thus participates in the nullification in Christ of the old mode of existence
and in the new creation of God revealed in him.
Ridderbos’
biblical-theological approach gives rise to a high conception of baptism’s
eschatological efficacy. It is the
sacrament of the new aeon, of initiation into the new creation.
Turning from the private
writings of Reformed theologians[11]
to public confessions, we find the same truths emphasized and the same
structure of sacramental theology.
Again, let us canvas the history of Reformational thought.
The Second Helvetic
Confession (written by Heinrich Bullinger in 1561) gives one of the fullest
explications of sacramental theology in all of the Reformed tradition. The document states early on, “By baptism we
are ingrafted into the body of Christ.”
In other words, baptism is the objective means through which a change in
our relationship to Christ is effected.
Later, it expounds this by focusing on Christ’s work in the
sacraments. Baptism is not a human act;
God himself is the Baptizer. God
himself guarantees the integrity and efficacy of the sacrament for his faithful
people, even apart from the character of the minister:
CHRIST
STILL WORKS IN SACRAMENTS. And as God is the author of the sacraments, so he
continually works in the Church in which they are rightly carried out; so that
the faithful, when they receive them from the ministers, know that God works in
his own ordinance, and therefore they receive them as from the hand of God; and
the minister's faults (even if they be very great) cannot affect them, since
they acknowledge the integrity of the sacraments to depend upon the institution
of the Lord.
Sacraments are not bare
signs; they are signs joined to the thing signified:
IN
WHAT THE SACRAMENTS CONSIST. And as formerly the sacraments consisted of the
word, the sign, and the thing signified; so even now they are composed, as it
were, of the same parts. For the Word of God makes them sacraments, which
before they were not.
Thus, in baptism, the outward
washing with water and the Word of God are joined to regeneration and
forgiveness:
For
in baptism the sign is the element of water, and that visible washing which is
done by the minister; but the thing signified is regeneration and the cleansing
from sins . . . For Christ’s first institution and consecration of the
sacraments remains always effectual in the Church of God
The outward signs are so
joined to the inner realities that their names are interchangeable. The outward sign is not the cause, but the
instrument, of the sacrament’s efficacy.
But this also means the outward sign is not dispensable since it is the
vehicle through which the thing signified is offered and bestowed. Ordinarily we should not imagine ourselves
as possessing the thing signified apart from participation in the sign itself:
THE
SACRAMENTAL UNION. Therefore the signs acquire the names of things because they
are mystical signs of sacred things, and because the signs and the things
signified are sacramentally joined together; joined together, I say, or united
by a mystical signification, and by the purpose or will of him who instituted
the sacraments
Neither
do we approve of the doctrine of those who speak of the sacraments just as
common signs, not sanctified and effectual. Nor do we approve of those who
despise the visible aspect of the sacraments because of the invisible, and so
believe the signs to be superfluous because they think they already enjoy the
things themselves, as the Messalians are said to have held.
The efficacy of the
sacrament does not make it an automatic passport to heaven. What is offered in the sacrament must be
received in faith in order for the recipient to be blessed. Once again, the objective and subjective are
joined together. It has always been a
staple of the Reformed tradition that salvific blessings are communicated
through outward means and are received by faith, and Second Helvetic maintains
that heritage. In other words, while
God has joined together the sign and the thing signified, our unbelief can pry
apart the sacramental union, the sign and the thing signified. The character of the recipient determines
the subjective meaning of baptism.
THE
THING SIGNIFIED IS NEITHER INCLUDED IN OR BOUND TO THE SACRAMENTS. We do not
approve of the doctrine of those who teach that grace and the things signified
are so bound to and included in the signs that whoever participate outwardly in
the signs, no matter what sort of persons they be, also inwardly participate in
the grace and things signified.
The efficacy of the
sacrament is objective, yet conditional (with faith being the subjective
condition). Thus, if the efficacy of
the sacrament is abrogated, so that it loses its salvific power, the fault lies
in hard heart of the recipient, not in God’s failure to keep his Word:
However,
as we do not estimate the value of the sacraments by the worthiness or
unworthiness of the ministers, so we do not estimate it by the condition of
those who receive them. For we know that the value of the sacraments depends
upon faith and upon the truthfulness and pure goodness of God. For as the Word
of God remains the true Word of God, in which, when it is preached, not only
bare words are repeated, but at the same time the things signified or announced
in words are offered by God, even if the ungodly and unbelievers hear and
understand the words yet do not enjoy the things signified, because they do not
receive them by true faith; so the sacraments, which by the Word consist of
signs and the things signified, remain true and inviolate sacraments,
signifying not only sacred things, but, by God offering, the things signified,
even if unbelievers do not receive the things offered. This is not the fault of
God who gives and offers them, but the fault of men who receive them without
faith and illegitimately; but whose unbelief does not invalidate the
faithfulness of God (Rom. 3:3 f.).
The efficacy of baptism
is not limited to the moment of administration, as if additional sacraments (e.g.,
re-baptism or penance) or good works would be needed to maintain the blessings
conferred in baptism. Rather, one
baptism suffices for all of life. Its
efficacy extends to cover the whole of course of our existence: “For baptism once received continues for all
of life, and is a perpetual sealing of our adoption.”
Then Confession turns to
the meaning of baptism itself. The
language is forceful, direct, and unmistakable. Indeed, it gives one of the most eloquent Reformed statements of
the blessings of baptism:
WHAT
IT MEANS TO BE BAPTIZED. Now to be baptized in the name of Christ is to be
enrolled, entered, and received into the covenant and family, and so into the
inheritance of the sons of God; yes, and in this life to be called after the
name of God; that is to say, to be called a son of God; to be cleansed also
from the filthiness of sins, and to be granted the manifold grace of God, in
order to lead a new and innocent life. Baptism, therefore, calls to mind and
renews the great favor God has shown to the race of mortal men. For we are all
born in the pollution of sin and are the children of wrath. But God, who is
rich in mercy, freely cleanses us from our sins by the blood of his Son, and in
him adopts us to be his sons, and by a holy covenant joins us to himself, and
enriches us with various gifts, that we might live a new life. All these things
are assured by baptism. For inwardly we are regenerated, purified, and renewed
by God through the Holy Spirit and outwardly we receive the assurance of the
greatest gifts in the water, by which also those great benefits are
represented, and, as it were, set before our eyes to be beheld.
Baptism has an assuring
role. The outward sign is the surety
that God has accomplished these things for us:
WE
ARE BAPTIZED WITH WATER. And therefore we are baptized, that is, washed or
sprinkled with visible water. For the water washes dirt away, and cools and
refreshes hot and tired bodies. And the grace of God performs these things for
souls, and does so invisibly or spiritually.
Nevertheless, baptismal
efficacy does not produce formalism or ritualism, properly understood. Indeed, while baptism itself is a sign and
seal of gospel blessings, it obligates us to live as members of God’s holy
family and army. Our objective status
imposes upon us certain responsibilities and duties:
THE
OBLIGATION OF BAPTISM. Moreover, God also separates us from all strange
religions and peoples by the symbol of baptism, and consecrates us to himself
as his property. We, therefore, confess our faith when we are baptized, and
obligate ourselves to God for obedience, mortification of the flesh, and
newness of life. Hence, we are enlisted in the holy military service of Christ
that all our life long we should fight against the world, Satan, and our own
flesh. Moreover, we are baptized into one body of the Church, that with all
members of the Church we might beautifully concur in the one religion and in
mutual services.
Finally, we are reminded
that baptism is of God and only his blessing makes it effectual unto salvation:
For
we believe that one baptism of the Church has been sanctified in God's first
institution, and that it is consecrated by the Word and is also effectual today
in virtue of God's first blessing.
The
same truths are found in the 1560 Scots Confession of John Knox (and five
colleagues), albeit, much more compactly:
These
sacraments, both of the Old Testament and of the New, were instituted by God
not only to make a visible distinction between his people and those who were
without the Covenant, but also to exercise the faith of his children and, by
participation of these sacraments, to seal in their hearts the assurance of his
promise, and of that most blessed conjunction, union, and society, which the
chosen have with their Head, Christ Jesus. And so we utterly condemn the vanity
of those who affirm the sacraments to be nothing else than naked and bare
signs. No, we assuredly believe that by Baptism we are engrafted into Christ
Jesus, to be made partakers of his righteousness, by which our sins are covered
and remitted . . .
Note that this
Confession focuses on the pastoral significance of the sacraments. The sacraments not only mark us out as God’s
people (note the objectivity!), they assure us of his favor towards us. And yet this does not produce careless
presumption, for once again, faith is called for (note the subjectivity!). Indeed, the sacraments can only perform
their proper function if we “exercise” faith in them (that is to say, in their
application and administration). Thus,
by participating in the sacraments, believers have the promises of the gospel
sealed unto their hearts. This is not trusting
in a ritual to save; it is trusting Christ to be present where he has promised
to be. In the strongest possible terms,
this Confession denies that the sacraments can be regarded as empty signs of
something that happens apart from the sacramental action. Rather, baptism is the agent through which
we are engrafted into Christ, and therefore, the objective instrument of
justification and regeneration.
We should also mention
Calvin’s catechetical documents here.
Calvin wrote several catechisms, all of which upheld the same high
doctrine of baptism seen in his other writings. We will not give all the evidence here; a couple examples will
have to suffice. His 1538 document
“Instruction for Children in Christian Doctrine” begins with this sequence:
Teacher: My child, are you a
Christian in fact as well as in name?
Child: Yes, my father.
Teacher: How is this known to you?
Child: Because I am baptized in
the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.
Later it connects baptism, ecclesiology, and
salvation:
Teacher: What is the third part of
this Christian confession?
Child: I believe in the Holy
Spirit, the holy catholic church, the communion of saints, the remission of
sins, the resurrection of the dead, and the life everlasting. Amen.
Teacher: What do you confess in
saying this?
Child: That the Holy Spirit is he
by whom we are regenerated and are placed into the church wherein we acquire
pardon of sins and improvement of life and after this life are consoled by the
expectation of eternal life.
Teacher: Of what use to you is this
faith and profession?
Child: So that I continually
request from God the receiving of his Holy Spirit, that I go gladly into the Christian
assembly in which I must seek and receive consolation and correction of life,
so that therein, with greater certainty, I might await the resurrection and
everlasting life.
Teacher: How did you come into this
communion of the church?
Child: Through baptism.
Teacher: What is this baptism?
Child: It is the washing of
regeneration and cleansing from sin.
Teacher: With what words is baptism
administered?
Child: These: "I baptize you
in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit."
Teacher: What is the meaning of
these words?
Child: It is this: I wash you so
that you would be made sons of God by the command and will of God the Father,
Son, and Holy Spirit.
Teacher: What fruit do you receive
from this?
Child: Very great fruit, because
it is no small thing if I obtain remission of my sins, if I acquire from Christ
my savior a new and everlasting life, if I abstain from every vice, and also if
I give myself more and more unto a new and heavenly life. [Thanks to Joel
Garver for the translation; the entire document is available at http://www.lasalle.edu/~garver/calcat.html.]
In the introduction to Calvin’s Geneva Catechism, he shows that the
Romanists have actually devalued baptism by putting so much emphasis on
confirmation:
That
spurious Confirmation, which they have substituted in its stead, they deck out
like a harlot, with great splendour of ceremonies, and gorgeous shows without
number; nay, in their wish to adorn it, they speak of it in terms of execrable
blasphemy, when they give out that it is a sacrament of greater dignity than
baptism, and call those only half Christians who have not been besmeared with
their oil. Meanwhile, the whole proceeding consists of nothing but theatrical
gesticulations, or rather the wanton sporting of apes, without any skill in
imitation.
The section on the
sacraments and baptism runs thus, with my annotations in brackets:
Master. - Is there no
other medium, as it is called, than the Word by which God may communicate
himself to us?
Scholar. - To the
preaching of the Word he has added the Sacraments. [Note the sacraments play a role analogous to the Word. Both are means by which God communicates
himself and his gifts to us.]
Master. - What is a Sacrament?
Scholar. - An outward
attestation of the divine benevolence towards us, which, by a visible sign,
figures spiritual grace, to seal the promises of God on our hearts, and thereby
better confirm their truth to us. [Here Calvin focuses on the assuring role of
the sacraments, but more will be said about the efficacy further on.]
Master. - Is there such
virtue in a visible sign that it can establish our consciences in a full
assurance of salvation?
Scholar. - This virtue it
has not of itself, but by the will of God, because it was instituted for this
end. [God authorizes the sacraments; they have no virtue or power naturally or
magically. Their efficacy derives from
God’s institution.]
Master. - Seeing it is
the proper office of the Holy Spirit to seal the promises of God on our minds,
how do you attribute this to the sacraments?
Scholar. - There is a
wide difference between him and them. To move and affect the heart, to
enlighten the mind, to render the conscience sure and tranquil, truly belongs
to the Spirit alone; so that it ought to be regarded as wholly his work, and be
ascribed to him alone, that no other may have the praise; but this does not at
all prevent God from employing the sacraments as secondary instruments, and
applying them to what use he deems proper, without derogating in any respect
from the agency of the Spirit. [The
sacraments do not act on their own. God
acts through the sacraments as instruments in his hand. God gets all the credit and glory for what
he accomplishes through these means.]
Master. - You think,
then, that the power and efficacy of a sacrament is not contained in the
outward element, but flows entirely from the Spirit of God?
Scholar. - I think so;
viz., that the Lord hath been pleased to exert his energy by his instruments,
this being the purpose to which he destined them: this he does without
detracting in any respect from the virtue of his Spirit. [Calvin made a clear
distinction between sign and thing signified.
There is more content here in the question than the answer: the
sacraments have power and efficacy, but it flows from the Spirit.]
Master. - Can you give me
a reason why he so acts?
Scholar. - In this way he
consults our weakness. If we were wholly spiritual, we might, like the angels,
spiritually behold both him and his grace; but as we are surrounded with this
body of clay, we need figures or mirrors to exhibit a view of spiritual and
heavenly things in a kind of earthly manner; for we could not otherwise attain
to them. At the same time, it is our interest to have all our senses exercised
in the promises of God, that they may be the better confirmed to us. [Calvin
tied God’s use of outward means to our physicality and
fallenness/weakness. In other words,
these means are wisely suited to our nature. God makes his promise appeal to the whole person.]
Master. - If it is true
that the sacraments were instituted by God to be helps to our necessity, is it
not arrogance for any one to hold that he can dispense with them as
unnecessary?
Scholar. - It certainly
is; and hence, if any one of his own accord abstains from the use of them, as
if he had no need of them, he contemns Christ, spurns his grace, and quenches
the Spirit. [The sacraments are
necessary; it is arrogant and dangerous to reject them. Indeed, to have contempt for the sacraments
is to have contempt for Christ and the Spirit since they are present and
offered in these means.]
Master. - But what
confidence can there be in the sacraments as a means of establishing the
conscience, and what certain security can be conceived from things which the
good and bad use indiscriminately?
Scholar. - Although the
wicked, so to speak, annihilate the gifts of God offered in the sacraments in
so far as regards themselves, they do not thereby deprive the sacraments of
their nature and virtue. [The question deals with how the sacraments function
differently for the faithful. The
wicked and unbelieving may vitiate God’s gift and offer in the sacraments, but
the means themselves retain their power and integrity.]
Master. - How, then, and
when does the effect follow the use of the sacraments?
Scholar. - When we
receive them in faith, seeking Christ alone and his grace in them. [By faith we
receive what God offers. We seek Christ
and his grace in these means.]
Master. - Why do you say
that Christ is to be sought in them?
Scholar. - I mean that we
are not to cleave to the visible signs so as to seek salvation from them, or
imagine that the power of conferring grace is either fixed or included in them,
but rather that the sign is to be used as a help, by which, when seeking
salvation and complete felicity, we are pointed directly to Christ. [Again, the sacraments are not an end in
themselves. They are a means to the end
of Christ.]
Master. - Seeing that
faith is requisite for the use of them, how do you say that they are given us
to confirm our faith, to make us more certain of the promises of God?
Scholar. - It is by no
means sufficient that faith is once begun in us. It must be nourished
continually, and increase more and more every day. To nourish, strengthen, and
advance it, the Lord instituted the sacraments. This indeed Paul intimates,
when he says that they have the effect of sealing the promises of God. (Rom.
iv. 11.) [Faith receives what God
offers in the sacraments. The
sacraments are objective instruments of salvation; faith is sole subjective
instrument and receptor of salvation.]
Master. - But is it not
an indication of unbelief not to have entire faith in the promises of God until
they are confirmed to us from another source?
Scholar. - It certainly
argues a weakness of faith under which the children of God labour. They do not,
however, cease to be believers, though the faith with which they are endued is
still small and imperfect; for as long as we continue in this world remains of
distrust cleave to our flesh, and these there is no other way of shaking off
than by making continual progress even unto the end. It is therefore always
necessary to be going forward.
Master. - How many are the sacraments of the Christian
Church?
Scholar. - There are only two, whose use is common among
all believers.
Master. - What are they?
Scholar. - Baptism and the Holy Supper.
Master. - What likeness or difference is there between
them?
Scholar. - Baptism is a kind of entrance into the
Church; for we have in it a testimony that we who are otherwise strangers and
aliens, are received into the family of God, so as to be counted of his
household; on the other hand, the Supper attests that God exhibits himself to
us by nourishing our souls. [Baptism is adoption into God’s family.]
Master. - That the meaning of both may be more clear to
us, let us treat of them separately. First, what is the meaning of Baptism?
Scholar. - It consists of two parts. For, first,
Forgiveness of sins; and, secondly, Spiritual regeneration, is figured by it.
(Eph. v. 26 ; Rom. vi. 4.) [Calvin
consistently viewed baptism as an objective instrument of pardon and
regeneration.]
Master. - What resemblance has water 'with these
things, so as to represent them?
Scholar. - Forgiveness of sins is a kind of washing, by
which our souls are cleansed from their defilements, just as bodily stains are
washed away by water.
Master. - What do you say of Regeneration?
Scholar. - Since the mortification of our nature is its
beginning, and our becoming new creatures its end, a figure of death is set
before us when the water is poured upon the head, and the figure of a new life
when instead of remaining immersed under water, we only enter it for a moment
as a kind of grave, out of which we instantly emerge. [Calvin was not at his
best in commenting on the mode of baptism.]
Master. - Do you think that the water is a washing of
the soul?
Scholar. - By no means; for it were impious to snatch
away this honour from the blood of Christ, which was shed in order to wipe away
all our stains, and render us pure and unpolluted in the sight of God. (1 Pet.
i. 19; 1 John i. 7.) And we receive the fruit of this cleansing when the Holy
Spirit sprinkles our consciences with that sacred blood. Of this we have a seal
in the Sacrament. [Here Calvin distinguishes the sign from the thing
signified. In other words, he explains
the “mechanics” of how baptism works.
The power is not in the water; it’s in the Holy Spirit who accompanies the
water.]
Master. - But do you attribute nothing more to the
water than that it is a figure of ablution?
Scholar. - I understand it to be a figure, but still so
that the reality is annexed to it; for God does not disappoint us when he
promises us his gifts. Accordingly, it is certain that both pardon of sins and
newness of life are offered to us in baptism, and received by us. [This is the key sentence. Note the objective and subjective: the
language of giving and receiving is used.
Baptism is not an empty symbol, but is conjoined to the reality it
figures. This is Calvin’s “sacramental
union” of the sign and thing signified.]
Master. - Is this grace bestowed on all
indiscriminately?
Scholar. - Many precluding its entrance by their
depravity, make it void to themselves. Hence the benefit extends to believers
only, and yet the Sacrament loses nothing of its nature. [Note the necessity of faith to receive what
God gives. And yet, the sacrament
itself retains its nature as efficacious instrument of grace even apart from
our response. Again, the objective and
subjective are distinguished.]
Master. - Whence is Regeneration derived?
Scholar. - From the Death and Resurrection of Christ
taken together. His death hath this efficacy, that by means of it our old man
is crucified, and the vitiosity of our nature in a manner buried, so as no more
to be in vigour in us. Our reformation to a new life, so as to obey the
righteousness of God, is the result of the resurrection.
Master. - How are these blessings bestowed upon us by
Baptism?
Scholar. - If we do not render the promises there
offered unfruitful by rejecting them, we are clothed with Christ, and presented
with his Spirit. [Note the “if”: baptism’s saving efficacy is conditional. Faith receives both Christ and the Spirit in
baptism.]
Master. - What must we do in order to use Baptism duly?
Scholar. - The right use of Baptism consists in faith
and repentance; that is, we must first hold with a firm heartfelt reliance
that, being purified from all stains by the blood of Christ, we are pleasing to
God: secondly, we must feel his Spirit dwelling in us, and declare this to
others by our actions, and we must constantly exercise ourselves in aiming at
the mortification of our flesh, and obedience to the righteousness of God. [Calvin’s focus here is on the subjective
response of the one baptized. Faith
must be accompanied with repentance.]
Master. - If these things are requisite to the
legitimate use of Baptism, how comes it that we baptize Infants?
Scholar. - It is not necessary that faith and repentance
should always precede baptism. They are only required from those whose age
makes them capable of both. It will be sufficient, then, if, after infants have
grown up, they exhibit the power of their baptism. [In other contexts, Calvin
made considerably more robust statements about the possibility of infant
faith.]
Master. - Can you demonstrate by reason that there is
nothing absurd in this?
Scholar. - Yes; if it be conceded to me that our Lord
instituted nothing at variance with reason. For while Moses and all the
Prophets teach that circumcision was a sign of repentance, and was even as Paul
declares the sacrament of faith, we see that infants were not excluded from it.
(Deut. xxx. 6; Jer. iv. 4; Rom. iv. 11.)
Master. - But are they now admitted to Baptism for the
same reason that was valid in circumcision?
Scholar. - The very same, seeing that the promises which
God anciently gave to the people of Israel are now published through the whole
world.
Master. - But do you infer from thence that the sign
also is to be used?
Scholar. - He who will duly ponder all things in both
ordinances, will perceive this to follow. Christ in making us partakers of his
grace, which had been formerly bestowed on Israel, did not condition, that it
should either be more obscure or in some respect less abundant. Nay, rather he
shed it upon us both more clearly and more abundantly . . .
Master. - Is no other end besides proposed by these two
Sacraments?
Scholar. - They are also marks and as it were badges of
our profession. For by the use of them we profess our faith before men, and
testify our consent in the religion of Christ. [For Calvin, the sacraments are professions of faith, but this is
secondary to their function as testimonies of God’s covenant promises.]
Master. - Were any one to despise the use of them, in
what light should it be regarded?
Scholar. - As an indirect denial of Christ. Assuredly
such a person, inasmuch as he deigns not to confess himself a Christian,
deserves not to be classed among Christians. [In other words, baptism is ordinarily necessary for
salvation. To reject baptism is to
reject Christ.]
Master. - Is it enough to receive both once in a
lifetime?
Scholar. - It is enough so to receive baptism, which may
not be repeated. It is different with the Supper.
Master. - What is the difference?
Scholar. - By baptism the Lord adopts us and brings us
into his Church, so as thereafter to regard us as part of his house-hold. After
he has admitted us among the number of his people, he testifies by the Supper
that he takes a continual interest in nourishing us. [Again, note that baptism
is an adoption rite. New life received
in baptism is fed and nurtured at the table.]
The
French Confession, drawn up by Calvin in 1559, teaches the same high view of
baptism found in Calvin’s other writings already examined. The Confession states that baptism is
necessary in light of original sin.
After baptism, sin remains, but the condemnation of sin has been
abolished for believers:
We
believe, also, that this evil is truly sin, sufficient for the condemnation of
the whole human race, even of little children in the mother's womb, and that
God considers it as such; even after baptism it is still of the nature of sin,
but the condemnation of it is abolished for the children of God, out of his
mere free grace and love.
While
parents are warned to not present their children for Romish baptism, baptisms
performed in Roman communions are still efficacious. This is because God, not the officiating minister, is the one who
actually performs the baptismal act.
Those baptized by Rome need not seek a second “Reformed” baptism:
XXVIII.
In this belief we declare that,
properly speaking, there can be no Church where the Word of God is not received,
nor profession made of subjection to it, nor use of the sacraments.
Therefore we condemn the papal assemblies, as the pure Word of God is banished
from them, their sacraments are corrupted, or falsified, or destroyed, and all
superstitions and idolatries are in them. We hold, then, that all who
take part in those acts, and commune in that Church, separate and cut
themselves off from the body of Christ. Nevertheless, as some trace of
the Church is left in the papacy, and the virtue and substance of baptism
remain, and as the efficacy of baptism does not depend upon the person who
administers it, we confess that those baptized in it do not need a second
baptism. But, on account of its corruptions, we can not present children
to be baptized in it without incurring pollution.
Given
that Calvin was no stranger to Rome’s corruption, this is manifest proof that
Calvin viewed baptism as possessing an objective force.
When
the Confession finally takes up the efficacy of baptism itself, it clearly
indicates that baptism is the instrumental means of union of Christ. By way of baptism, we come to share in the
blessings of the body of Christ, namely forgiveness and new life in the Spirit:
XXXV.
We confess only two sacraments
common to the whole Church, of which the first, baptism, is given as a pledge
of our adoption; for by it we are grafted into the body of Christ, so as to be
washed and cleansed by his blood, and then renewed in purity of life by his
Holy Spirit. We hold, also, that although we are baptized only once, yet the
gain that it symbolizes to us reaches over our whole lives and to our death, so
that we have a lasting witness that Jesus Christ will always be our
justification and sanctification. Nevertheless, although it is a
sacrament of faith and penitence, yet as God receives little children into the
Church with their fathers, we say, upon the authority of Jesus Christ, that the
children of believing parents should be baptized.
Note
that baptism’s efficacy is not limited to the moment of administration, but
covers the whole of our lives, a constant refrain in early Reformed theology.
Further,
baptism, has a pastoral role. Those who
receive the sacrament in faith may be assured that they have received the thing
signified. Christ’s promise and the
presence of the Spirit make the sacraments effectual. Baptism provides an objective prop, or support, on which faith
can rest.
XXXVII.
We believe, as has been said,
that in the Lord's Supper, as well in baptism, God gives us really and in fact
that which he there sets forth to us; and that consequently with these signs is
given the true possession and enjoyment of that which they present to us.
And thus all who bring a pure faith, like a vessel, to the sacred table of
Christ, receive truly that of which it is a sign; for the body and the
blood of Jesus Christ give food and drink to the soul, no less than bread and
wine nourish the body.
XXXVIII.
Thus we hold water, being a
feeble element, still testifies to us in truth the inward cleansing of our
souls in the blood of Jesus Christ by the efficacy of his Spirit, and that
the bread and wine given to us in the sacrament serve to our spiritual
nourishment, inasmuch as they show, as to our sight, that the body of Christ is
our meat, and his blood our drink. And we reject the Enthusiasts and
Sacramentarians who will not receive such signs and marks, although our Savior
said: ‘This is my body, and this cup is my blood.’
These
same truths resonate through the Belgic Confession, written slightly later. Article 33 says God “ordained sacraments for
us to seal his promises in us, to pledge his good will and grace toward us, and
also to nourish and sustain our faith.”
The sacraments have an assuring function, for through them God confirms
“in us the salvation he imparts to us.”
But, that’s not all. Additionally,
the sacraments are instruments of salvation, “by means of which God works in us
through the power of the Holy Spirit. So they are not empty and hollow signs to
fool and deceive us, for their truth is Jesus Christ, without whom they would
be nothing.” Again, the view that the
sacraments may be regarded as empty symbols, devoid of the saving power,
presence, and promise of Christ, is flatly rejected. The implication is that God does not deceive us in the
administration of his ordinances; he gives what he promises, namely Christ and
his benefits. The sacraments are
objective agents of applying redemption to us.
Specifically
referring to baptism, the Belgic Confession affirms that baptism’s efficacy derives
solely from the blood of Christ.
Baptism
signifies
to us that just as water washes away the dirt of the body when it is poured on
us and also is seen on the body of the baptized when it is sprinkled on him, so
too the blood of Christ does the same thing internally, in the soul, by the
Holy Spirit. It washes and cleanses it from its sins and transforms us from
being the children of wrath into the children of God.
This
does not happen by the physical water but by the sprinkling of the precious
blood of the Son of God, who is our Red Sea, through which we must pass to
escape the tyranny of Pharoah, who is the devil, and to enter the spiritual
land of Canaan.
There
is a parallel between the outward washing and the inward blessing, seen in the
“just as” language. The objective and
subjective are distinguished but not separated. The physical water itself is not the source of baptism’s cleansing
efficacy, of course. Neither is the
human officiant:
So
ministers, as far as their work is concerned, give us the sacrament and what is
visible, but our Lord gives what the sacrament signifies-- namely the invisible
gifts and graces; washing, purifying, and cleansing our souls of all filth and
unrighteousness; renewing our hearts and filling them with all comfort; giving
us true assurance of his fatherly goodness; clothing us with the "new
man" and stripping off the "old," with all its works.
The
Lord gives what he signifies when baptism is received in faith. Baptism is the means through which believers
receive a new status and begin a new life.
The Belgic Confession
also takes up the question of baptism’s necessity. Baptism is ordinarily necessary for salvation, but is not to be
repeated because its ongoing power resides in Christ, not our works: “[A]nyone
who aspires to reach eternal life ought to be baptized only once without ever
repeating it-- for we cannot be born twice. Yet this baptism is profitable not
only when the water is on us and when we receive it but throughout our entire
lives.” Because baptism bestows Christ,
and Christ promises to be with his people and continually intercede for them on
the basis of his shed blood, baptism’s efficacy never dries up. To practice rebaptism is to doubt the very
Word of God.
Even infants of
believers should be brought for baptism, according to the Belgic document. And their parents should be assured that the
baptism of their child means that Christ’s blood was shed for them: “And truly,
Christ has shed his blood no less for washing the little children of believers
than he did for adults.” Infants can
receive all that baptism signifies, just as adults. There is not one baptism for adults, and another for
infants. Rather, both are baptized into
the same Christ and receive the same blessings. Again, the objectivity of the sacrament’s power is made
clear.
Baptism also obligates
us to live as the faithful people of God.
The objective entails and demands a subjective response: “By it [baptism] we are received into God's
church and set apart from all other people and alien religions, that we may be
dedicated entirely to him, bearing his mark and sign. It also witnesses to us
that he will be our God forever, since he is our gracious Father.”
Our final example comes
from the Westminster Standards. The
teaching of the Standards on sacramental efficacy is quite clear, but also
scattered through the documents. By the
time of the Westminster Assembly, Reformed theology had become quite
diverse. Part of the Assembly’s project
was creating a consensus that could bind together a religiously divided
nation. The Westminster Standards are
compromise documents in the sense that several different parties had to be
appeased. Thus, the fruit of the
assembly has some internal tensions; nevertheless, the finished product exhibits
a remarkable degree of self-consistency and self-harmony, despite harboring a
variety of viewpoints within a single text.
The Westminsterian framework is very similar to what we’ve already seen.
The Westminster divines
confessed that the sacraments are “effectual means of salvation” (WSC 91). This is so, not because of any inherent
virtue in the minister or the external element. Rather, Christ and the Spirit make the sacraments salvific to
those who receive them in faith. In the
sacrament of baptism, the thing signified (union with Christ in all his
gracious and glorious blessing) is sealed (WCF 28.1), exhibited (WCF 28.5),
conferred (WCF 28.5), applied (WSC 92), and communicated (WSC 91). Nevertheless, the Standards also put the
usual qualifications on this kind of efficacy, lest we fall into bare formalism
or antinomianism. The promise only
holds good for “worthy receivers” (27.3), that is, believers. The objective blessings are only realized by
faith. To put it paradoxically, baptism
saves, but not all the baptized are saved.
Further, the Westminster
divines were more concerned than the earlier confessional writers to integrate
sacramental efficacy into a strong doctrine of predestination and unconditional
election. And so we have this qualifier
found in 28.6: “The grace promised is not only offered, but really exhibited,
and conferred, by the Holy Ghost, to such (whether of age or infants) as that
grace belongeth unto, according to the counsel of God’s own will, in his
appointed time.” In other words, while
the sacraments genuinely offer Christ to all who are baptized, and confer
Christ upon those who receive the sacrament in faith, our response to baptism
is part of God’s eternal counsel. The
objective meaning of baptism is not softened, but our subjective response
determines what we actually get from the sacrament. And that response is subject to God’s foreordination. Baptism is the offer; faith is the receptor. If we receive in baptism in faith, it is
because of his eternal election (that is to say, faith is a gift, given through
the Word and sovereign work of the Spirit, per WCF 14.1). If we do not exercise faith, it is because
of his eternal reprobation. Everything
is ultimately conditioned by the counsel of his will, however mysterious that
may be. The Confession leaves ambiguous
the relation of covenantal promises to divine sovereignty.
Nevertheless, the
Westminster divines have given us a strong doctrine of the instrumental
efficacy of baptism. Baptism is not in
competition with faith because baptism is what God does, while faith is what we
do. Baptism is God’s instrument in
giving new life and forgiveness; faith is the instrument on our side for
receiving these things. The person
baptized has every reason to exercise faith, and no excuse for not doing
so. After all, his baptism is “unto him a sign and seal of the covenant
of grace, of his engrafting into
Christ, or regeneration, of remission of sins, and of his giving up unto God, through Christ Jesus, to walk in newness of
life” (28.1). The Confession is very
clear: every baptized person should regard himself as a member of the covenant
of grace and united to Christ. The
imperative (“Improve your baptism! Live
faithful to the covenant!”) is grounded in the indicative (“You have been
united to Christ!”). In other words
“Improve your baptism” amounts to saying, “Be who you are!” Note that the benefits listed in 28.1 are
spoken of in reference to the administration of baptism and the covenant, not
to eternal election, which remains secret to us (cf. Dt. 29:29). In other words, they are objective and
applicable, in principle, to every baptized person. The blessings belong to the one baptized, regarded as a member of
the visible church, not as someone who is “secretly elect” or “genuinely
regenerate.” (This just reiterates the
earlier views of Calvin and Bucer, both of whom insisted that the promise of
baptism has reference to the covenant as such, not to the secret decree. It’s also just another way of “viewing
election through the lens of the covenant,” as Norm Shepherd was apt to put
it.)
Every baptized person
has the duty to improve his baptism precisely because every baptized person has
received a genuine offer of grace in the administration of baptism. It would do no good to encourage a person to
draw strength and assurance from his baptism, as the Larger Catechism does,
unless you were certain that his baptism was efficacious. It would do no good to tell a person to live
in light of their union with Christ, in his death and resurrection, unless you
were sure that every baptized person, head for head, was united to Christ in
baptism. The logic of “improving one’s
baptism” requires us to believe that every baptized person has been joined to
Christ objectively.
I should briefly comment
on this language of “improving” upon baptism because is an awkward expression
and could easily cause confusion. The
divines did not intend to suggest that we could add something of our to baptism,
thus making it “better.” Baptism, as
already noted, is complete in itself, and depends upon God’s promise and grace,
not our works. Rather, “improving”
baptism means entering into the fullness of what God has offered and conferred
in baptism. It means living on the
basis of and out of one’s baptism. Of
course, this is just another way of saying we live on the basis of God’s
promises, because that’s what baptism is – an enacted promise.
The “sign and seal”
language of the confession cannot be used to cancel out the stronger “effectual
means” language, for both strands are found within the document. This shapes our whole understanding of what
it means for baptism to function as a sign and a seal. It cannot be an empty rite, a mere
picture. As a sign, it functions more
like an effective speech act. As a
seal, it functionally applies the benefits of Christ and the covenant. “Sign and seal” language again emphasizes
the objectivity of the sacraments.
According to the
Standards, some functions of baptism happen “automatically.” Every baptized
person joins the visible church – the kingdom, house, and family of God (WCF 25.2).
In other words, the Confession implicitly views baptism as an adoption
ritual, as the one baptized is inserted into the family of God. All baptized persons receive, objectively,
the same promised inheritance and privileges.
Some form of the gift of the Spirit must be implicitly conferred, since
the house of God – the temple – is indwelt by the Spirit. According to the Confession, God “lives” in
the visible church, meaning he lives within its members. A baptized person is a mini-tabernacle; he
may defile his house, such that God has to move out, as he did with the old
covenant tabernacle (cf. Ezek, 8, 1 Cor. 6), but baptism’s objective meaning
remains unstained by our pollution. Even
some kind of baptismal regeneration doctrine can be derived from this view of
the visible church, since only those born again enter into the kingdom. Baptism marks the transition into a new life
in the kingdom. All the baptized are enrolled
and sworn into Christ’s army; we are obligated to fight manfully under the
banner of our baptism into union with him as our Lord and King.
This description of the
visible church in 25.2 also provides the basis for a quite robust view of
apostasy. Those who abandon the church
or get excommunicated are disinherited from the Triune family, expelled from
the kingdom of Christ, and removed from the Spirit-indwelt house. We can add that they are amputated from the
body of Christ (PCA BCO 2-2). These blessings
were genuinely possessed by the church member, and were actually lost when he
apostatized. In other words, these
“common operations of the Spirit” (WCF 10.4) that are undifferentiated within
the covenant community. These things
belong (however contingently) to all baptized persons, though they can be
forfeited by unbelief.
This is an old Reformed
view, not a Westminsterian innovation.
Calvin, as we’ve already noted, could write that baptism is a symbol and
instrument of regeneration and that the substance of baptism belongs to our
children, even while also granting the possibility that those baptized, “by
their depravity, make it void to themselves” (Geneva Catechism). In other words, Calvin made room for a
defectible regeneration, a regeneration that was offered but not received, all
the while insisting upon God’s sovereign salvation and preservation of his
chosen ones. More scholastic versions
of Calvinism have squeezed out this doctrine of apostasy, but it was there from
the beginning.
Another way to parse
this out is to remember that “irresistible grace” works mysteriously. We cannot explain how God works to shape and
change the human heart so that we are “made willing by His grace” (WCF 10.1;
cf. 9.1-5). Baptism’s grace,
objectively considered, is not irresistible.
But in the elect, God works irresistibly so that they receive what is
offered in baptism. Many Reformed
theologians have made the mistake of using predestination to call into question
the efficacy of the sacraments. But it
would be better – more biblical as well as more confessional – to use
predestination to explain why some respond to the objective offer and conferral
of grace in baptism and why some refuse it.
Predestination does not alter the meaning and significance of baptism;
predestination determines how we will respond to the gift of Christ and the new
status that are bound up in every
administration of baptism. In other
words predestination does not mean that some baptisms have objective efficacy,
while others are just empty rituals; rather predestination means that some will
receive what baptism confers in faith, while others will reject it in unbelief.
So, we conclude that the
Westminster Standards give us a high view of baptism that is objective,
covenantal, and efficacious. The
benefits of the new covenant are offered to all who are baptized; they are
received in truth and applied in full to believers (cf. WSC 92). Every baptized person joins the kingdom,
family, and house of God; but only worthy receivers maintain those blessings
and experience their ultimate realization.
Drawing assurance from baptism is not resting in ritual, but drawing
strength from the promises of God and his ordinary means (WCF 18.2-3). In other words, sacramental assurance is
just another dimension of the assurance of faith and another aspect of
“improving” one’s baptism.
The Loss of Baptismal Efficacy
This high, instrumental
view of baptism has been largely lost today, but it was the general view at the
time of the Protestant Reformation. Some
today set sola fide over against
baptismal efficacy. R. C. Sproul’s
analysis of the Tridentine doctrine of justification goes just this route. While rightly criticizing Rome’s defective
views of baptism and justification, Sproul ignores the classic Reformed
alternative:
During
the Reformation one point of dispute focused on the instrumental cause of justification. Rome declared there are two instrumental causes of justification:
the first is the sacrament of baptism, the second is the sacrament of
penance. Therefore, Rome could speak of
justification by the sacraments. By and through the sacraments the grace of
justification is received. The
sacraments are the means by which
justifying grace is received.
In
the Reformation formula, “Justification by faith alone,” the word by captures the idea and communicates
the notion that faith, not the
sacraments, is the instrumental cause of justification. Faith is the instrument by which we are
linked to Christ and receive the grace of justification (Faith Alone: The Evangelical Doctrine of Justification, 75; cf.
also 122f).
What
Sproul has overlooked is the two sides of instrumentality: objective and
subjective. Baptism and faith are not
instruments at the same level, or in the same way. Faith is the exclusive instrument in receiving what God
instrumentally offers in baptism. Anthony
Lane explains the problem with Sproul’s view:
The
Tidentine Decree on Justification
associates baptism with
justification. The transition from our natural state in Adam to a state of
grace in Christ ‘cannot occur without the washing of regeneration or the
desire for it,’ John 3:5 being cited as evidence (ch. 4). In the process of
preparation for justification, faith, hope and love are followed by
repentance and the resolve to receive baptism, Acts 2:38 and Matthew 28:19f.
being cited (ch. 6). The instrumental cause of justification is baptism, the
sacrament of faith (ch. 7) . . .
Tracey takes exception to the statement that the gift of salvation is
granted ‘by the action of the Holy Spirit in baptism’ asking, ‘Which
is it, faith or baptism?’ His quarrel here is not with Trent nor with the
Joint Declaration but with the New
Testament, which repeatedly ascribes
salvation and its components to baptism [Lane cites several passages in a
footnote, e.g., Acts 2:38, 22:16; Rom. 6:3f.; Gal. 3:27; Col. 2:11f; 1 Pet.
3:21]. The clear answer of the New Testament to
Tracey's question is ‘not faith or
baptism but faith and baptism’. This
may not accord with the view of the majority of Evangelicals today but they
should take up their complaint with the apostles. This majority too often
speaks as if a purely symbolic view of the sacraments were the, rather than
an, Evangelical position. They should also recognize that they have moved
from the position of the Reformers (except for Zwingli) and for them the gap
with Rome has widened, not narrowed, at this point. Sproul likewise
interprets the sola fide formula as
directed against baptism. But in the
Reformation context the formula was consistently directed against works, not
against baptism. Both Luther and Melanchthon reject the slanderous claim
that sola fide was intended to
exclude word or sacrament. Calvin
objects
to the reference to baptism alone at the end of chapter 4 of the Tridentine
decree asking, ‘Would it not have been better to say, that by the
word and sacraments Christ is
communicated, or, if they prefer so to
speak, applied to us, than to make mention of baptism alone?’ . . . It
should also be remembered that Lutherans believing in baptismal regeneration
are some of the most ardent proponents of justification by faith alone.
The efficacy of the sacraments is an issue on which there is as much
diversity within Evangelicalism as between Evangelicals and Rome. The
relationship between outward rite and inward reality is a complex issue on
which there are a range of possible views. That the outward rite
automatically conveys the inward reality and that it is merely symbolic of
it are the two extreme views, not the only options. In any case the question
of the efficacy of the sacraments is distinct from that of justification and
should not be allowed to cloud the present issue. [Lane adds in a footnote: Some
Evangelicals make the very odd accusation that baptism is a ‘work’. This is
profoundly mistaken. Baptism is not something we do, it is something we
receive, something that is done to us. We ‘are baptized’ -- a passive verb.
If anything could be called something that we do it is faith (we ‘believe’
-- active verb), not baptism. Of course, baptism is requested and adults at
least are not baptized involuntarily, but baptism with the pattern of
request and passive reception expresses vividly the manner in which
salvation is a gift of grace to be received, not something to be earned by
performing a work.] The Joint Declaration
identifies the sacraments as a
topic needing ‘further clarification’ (Section 43) . . .
The Reformers (unlike many of today's Evangelicals) were happy to acknowledge
the role of the sacraments in appropriating salvation. But for them the
sacraments
clearly occupy a secondary role, relative to faith. For traditional Roman Catholicism,
however, the sacramental system is central . . .
There are indications that the polarization is becoming less pronounced
today than in some past generations. The Second Vatican Council teaches
little about the sacraments, but it does seek to integrate them with faith,
especially in the Constitution on the
Sacred Liturgy. ‘Before people can
come to the liturgy, they must be called to faith and conversion’ through
the proclamation of the message of salvation. The sacraments ‘not only
presuppose faith; they also nourish it, strengthen it and express it, both
through words and through objects. This is why they are called
sacraments of faith.’ There is a greater emphasis in Roman Catholicism today
on the need for a personal faith, on the inadequacy of merely conforming to
the ritual. As Catholics take more seriously the role of faith, Evangelicals
also need to be more open to the role given to baptism in the New Testament.
Lane has provided an
accurate assessment of the Reformers’ understanding of the
faith/baptism/justification nexus, as it was understood in the sixteenth
century. The Reformers did not use sola fide ( or even sola gratia) to cancel out sacramental efficacy. The sacraments did
not compete with faith for center stage any more than preaching. Rather, as in preaching, so in the
sacraments, God offers Christ to us. Baptism
has reference to justification precisely because God has promised to make
Christ available in the rite (as well as the other means of grace). But to receive forgiveness in baptism, one
must receive Christ in faith.
Acts 2:38 is very clear
regarding the instrumental role of baptism.
The Greek grammar bears the point out well. Peter announces, “Repent, and let every one of you be baptized in
the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sins; and you shall receive the
gift of the Holy Spirit.” Repentance
(inclusive of, or conjoined with faith, of course) is the human action called
for. This verb is second person plural
and is in the active voice. “Be
baptized” is third person singular and in the passive voice, indicating baptism
is the action of Another. No one
baptizes himself, as if it were a work; it comes from the outside, as a
gift. The singular probably indicates
the corporateness of the baptism; that is to say, through baptism, the one
baptized comes to share in the once-and-for-all Pentecostal event of Acts 2 and
receives the gift of the Spirit given to the new temple/new Israel. The preposition “for” in the phrase “for the
remission of your sins” indicates instrumentality: baptism has reference to
remission. While word order is not
determinative in Greek, surely it is significant that baptism is sandwiched between repentance and forgiveness. Peter did not say, “Repent for the
forgiveness of sins, and be baptized as a sign that this has happened.” Instead he links repentance and baptism as a
package deal: by repenting from sin, and submitting to God’s act of baptism,
they would receive the forgiveness of sins.
If they repent, they will receive baptism, and in receiving baptism,
they will receive (by faith) full remission.
Baptism is instrumental in one way; faith/repentance in another.
Will the Real Baptism Please Stand Up?
Thus, we have seen that
baptism’s efficacy is objective. Baptism, like the other outward means of
grace through which Christ communicates himself and his benefits to us (cf. WSC
85, 88), is a genuine offer of new life and reconciliation. Baptism’s efficacy is also instrumental; it has no power in its own
right. There is nothing magical about
it. God has simply promised to work in
it and through it. His Word makes it
effective. Finally, baptism’s efficacy
is conditional. While baptism is what it is, even apart from
our response, baptism’s proffered blessings only come to realization in our
lives if we respond in faith. It is a
blessing, in a strictly objective sense, to everyone who receives it, since it
confers membership in the kingdom, house, and family of God. But that blessing devolves into curse if
there is no subjective appropriation of Christ by faith.
Understanding this point
helps us avoid a common, but serious, error in contemporary Reformed
theology. Sometime theologians have
given the impression, intentionally or inadvertently, that there are two
baptisms: one for the elect, one for the non-elect; or, one for infants, one
for adults. But this is a flat
violation of both God’s Word and the Reformed tradition. The best of our Reformed heritage insists
that water baptism itself is efficacious, for, in fact, it is an act of
God. Indeed, as Hughes Oliphant Old has
shown, turning baptism into an exclusively human work actually stems from the
Anabaptist tradition:
For
the Anabaptist baptism was a sign given by the one baptized of a
decision he had made. It was a human sign of a human act. The contrast
between the voluntarist approach of the Anabaptists which puts the emphasis
on the decision of the convert and the Reformed emphasis on grace which sees
salvation primarily in terms of God's saving act . . . [B]aptism was an
integral part of their whole theology . . . [B]aptism of infants was a logical
corollary to sola gratia (The Shaping of the Reformed Baptismal Rite
in the Sixteenth Century, 138).
Ephesians 4:8 states
emphatically that there is one baptism.
This is a multi-faceted claim on the part of the apostle. It indicates several truths simultaneously. First, this text weighs against the practice
of rebaptism. There is one baptism: having received it, there
is no need for anyone to seek out another baptism. Because baptism’s validity depends upon God’s promise, not our
worthiness, subsequent sin does not vitiate or destroy baptism. Unlike the Lord’s Supper, which is
administered repeatedly, baptism in a one time initiation ritual. To baptize someone a second time would cast
a shadow of doubt upon the promise and testimony of God.
Second, there is one
baptism that sums up the meaning of the multiple old covenant baptisms. The Levitical system included several
washings – for priestly ordination and routine service, for worshippers who
contracted some uncleanness, for sacrifices, and so forth. All of these various baptismal rites (cf.
Heb. 9:10) are folded into the one baptism of the new age, just as the various
old covenant feasts and meals have been taken up into the one celebration of
the Lord’s Supper. The baptism of the
new economy is eschatological; it fulfills and transcends the baptisms of the
old order. But it should be noted that
these Old Covenant washings were effectual at the level of that covenantal
administration. For example, to
contract uncleanness in Israel was to be symbolically dead. It meant that one was excluded from the
liturgical life of the nation. To be
restored to life, one underwent a baptism; hence, we may say these Levitical
washings were types and shadows of the “washing of regeneration” (Tit. 3:5)
that we have received in Christ.
Third, there is one
baptism in that all Christian baptism is based upon and derives from Christ’s
baptism. He is the true priest,
ordained in the waters of the Jordan; he is true sacrifice, washed by John
himself (a member of the priestly tribe); he is the one who has taken our
uncleanness upon himself in order to bear it away forever. Jesus’ baptism fulfills all previous
baptisms and baptismal events. All
subsequent baptismal events (the cross, Pentecost) and baptisms (Mt. 28:18-20)
are simply extensions and applications of his baptism in the Jordan.[12]
But, fourth, most
importantly for our purposes, Paul’s language of one baptism resists the modern
tendency to split baptism into “ritual baptism” and “spiritual baptism.” I take
this as self-evident in the passage: if Paul has in view a “secret baptism,”
how could we know who to seek unity with?
Paul, in other words, insists on a unity of the rite and the Spirit’s
work. God does something Spiritual
through physical means. This has a
couple of very significant implications.
First, it means that
adults and infants receive the same baptism, objectively considered. In other words, there is only one initiation
ritual for those who enter the covenant people. If anything, infant baptism should be regarded as the norm above
adult baptism, given Jesus’ words about the kingdom in Mt. 18:4. Adults must become like children to enter
the kingdom, not vice versa. To put it
another way, all baptism is paedobaptism. Whatever baptism confers upon adults, in
principle, it confers upon infants as well – and vice versa. To be sure, adults profess their faith in a
way that infants cannot yet do, but the infant has a promise from God to stand
in place of his own profession. And
baptism isn’t about our profession anyway; it’s not a sign of our promises to God
(first and foremost) but of his promises to us.
Second, this means that
elect and non-elect persons receive the same baptism. Or, to put it another way, this means those who persevere in the
covenant and those who break the covenant received the same baptism. This runs counter to Abraham Kuyper and some
Dutch theologians who insisted that the elect received true baptisms, while the
non-elect only received apparent baptisms.
If that were the case, of course, no baptismal promises could be trusted
because only the decree would matter.
While we affirm God’s absolute sovereignty in salvation, objectively
speaking, both elect and non-elect persons receive the same offer and conferral
in baptism – just as they objectively hear the same sermon when the Word goes
forth. There is one baptism, with two
divergent responses (faith and unbelief).
The elect person will “improve” his baptism and persevere to the
end. The non-elect person will fall
from grace, and lose the benefits set before him in baptism. Obviously there is
mystery here – mystery that can be explained both at the level of God’s
sovereignty as well as human responsibility.
But we cannot let the outcome of a person’s baptism determine what that
baptism meant originally. God’s
promise, not our eventual response, makes baptism what it is. Those who violate the grace of baptism have
no one to blame but themselves. Those
who keep the baptismal covenant can only rejoice in what they were given.
This objective oneness
of baptism means we should do away with all arguments based on some distinction
between an outward, ceremonial baptism, and inner, “real” baptism. The “truly baptized” are not some “secret
society” or “secret club” within the church.
The “two baptisms” view collides with the best and purest Reformed
thought on the sacraments. The grace
offered in baptism is undifferentiated, and this explains why there is so much
“undifferentiated grace” language in the Bible (e.g., passages where those in
the church are all addressed in the same terms and categories, despite the fact
that not all will persevere). Various
scholastic distinctions between “vital” and “legal” union or “external” and
“internal” membership simply do not help exegetically or pastorally (though
they may still have value theoretically).
The same promises are made to all
the baptized, and every baptized person is invited and encouraged to claim
those promises as his own by faith. Every
baptized person is summoned to think of himself, his identity and vocation, in
terms of those baptismal declarations.
The differentiation comes over time, as we find some people responding
truly and faithfully to their baptism, and others rejecting the covenant
blessings found in baptism.
Webb bifurcates baptism
into two when he says, “Baptism is an external and visible sign of an inward spiritual
reality and is a seal of the promises of the Covenant of Grace only to those
whom the spirit either has already regenerated or will surely regenerate at
some later date.” In other words, only
the elect (those who are or will be regenerated in the reformed scholastic
sense) can draw comfort from their baptism.
But this gets hold of the question from the wrong end. If someone already knows he’s regenerate
apart from baptism, how can baptism add to his assurance? And if someone doubts their election, what
good are the promises of baptism, for they do not apply to all the
baptized? Webb has voided baptism of
any pastoral, assuring value. If some
baptisms don’t objectively “take,” then all baptisms are suspect.
For Webb, what really
counts is a “spiritual baptism” which he has unhinged from the outward
rite: “[N]o external sign can grant
[faith] for it is the work of the Spirit.
It is circumcision of the heart that is needed which cannot be granted
by the external washing of water.” But
if baptism cannot give new life, why should we think that preaching can? Preaching is just as external as
baptism. Preaching is words, baptism is
water: the only reason either means is effectual is because of the Spirit’s
work (WSC 89, 91).
Klaas Schilder is very
helpful on these matters – especially since he had to deal head-on with
Kuyperians. According to Jelle Faber,
the Schilderites emphasize that all children
of believers are children of the covenant and sanctified in Christ. The covenant promise of salvation is given
to all these children. For all
these children baptism is a sign and seal of the covenant of grace or
promise of salvation. As many of them
who accept this promise by true faith, do so through the regenerating working
of grace by the Holy Spirit, according to God’s eternal election. The others are breakers of the covenant and
they will be punished with a more severe punishment (37) . . . .
[They
reject Kuyper’s doctrine of] presumed regeneration at baptism (39) . . . In
John 15 the unfruitful branches – covenant members – are branches “in Christ,”
organically united to him. Romans 11
designates the covenant members as branches
which had become partakers of the root and fatness of the olive tree. The Lord may rightfully ask of covenant
members: What more could have been done to My vineyard that I have not done in
it? Why then, when I expected it to
bring forth good grapes, did it bring forth wild grapes (Isaiah 5)? These passages refer to a grace which does
not insure salvation and yet takes from the covenant members all excuse . . .
Christian nurture of covenant children was necessary, in order that they should
not degenerate. Parents, teachers, and
ministers do not deal with “unfit material,” with children who are completely
blind and deaf spiritually, but with covenant children in whom the Lord has so
worked that He may expect fruits of faith and repentance (40-1).
One quasi-Schilderite,
Heyns, “went so far as to speak of a subjective covenant grace for all members
of the covenant so that man’s total incapacity by nature for things that are of
the Spirit of God is taken away, that there is in the covenant child an initial
or incipient capacity of covenantal nurture” (41). Schilder himself emphasized that baptism came with promises, not
predictions. The covenant was
absolutely gracious, but also conditional.
The elect are not mere “stocks and blocks;” they have to willingly and
freely fulfill the obligations God has imposed upon them. Schilder is thoroughly pastoral in the way
he frames the covenant-election relationship.
He points out that we need is not a statement of facts about the elect,
but a promise from God addressed to us as elect. “What I need is an address to
me. In the promise of the gospel I do
not receive a dogmatic lecture about God’s usual dealing with the elect, for
even the devil can tell me that . . . I want to hear something that was
addressed to me when I was earnestly called” (140). He goes on, explaining the point in terms of the liturgy; “When
the Form for Baptism declares that, by baptism, God makes promises to us it
clearly says, ‘He makes promises to this
by-name-mentioned-child.’ He can
safely say this and also teach this to us, because the promise goes hand in
hand with the demand” (143). God does
not give us dogma at the font; he gives us a promise, spoken to us by name, and
authorized in his name. Schilder
insists that the baptismal promise is always kept, though we must remember it
is a two-sided promise. If a person
fails to respond to baptism with faith, we should not conclude that God did not
promise anything to that person; instead we should keep in mind that he
promised nothing without the threat (151). [All Faber and Schilder quotations
taken from American Secession Theologians
on Covenant and Baptism and Extra-Scriptural Binding – A New Danger by
Jelle Faber and Klaas Schilder.]
While I would not put
everything just the way Schilder does, his approach has a lot to offer. It keeps together the sign and the thing
signified in every baptism because it insists that the sure Word of God makes
baptism what it is. The Word
constitutes baptism; faith receives the Word in baptism.
The strongest argument
for severing water baptism from Spirit baptism derives from a certain way of
reading Rom. 2:25-29. The argument runs
thus: Paul says circumcision is only outward, not a circumcision of the heart;
baptism is the new covenant equivalent of circumcision; therefore baptism is
only outward. But this ignores the
redemptive historical nature of Paul’s argument. Circumcision and baptism are not equivalents. To be sure, baptism has replaced
circumcision as the sign of the covenant, and in that sense fulfills
circumcision. But baptism has a much
wider meaning; it fulfills several other rites and events of the old era in
addition to circumcision. Or, to put it
another way, circumcision was still a pre-Messianic ritual, a sign of the
coming Seed; baptism is an eschatological sign, an indication that the Seed and
Spirit have now entered history.
Therefore, baptism includes a power and efficacy that circumcision could
not possess. Insofar as baptism is a
sign and seal of the new and better
covenant (Jer. 31; Ezek. 36), it offers what circumcision could not (namely the
Spirit and full forgiveness). Indeed,
if anything, we might be driven to conclude from Col. 2:11-15 that baptism just is the offer of a circumcised heart
(cf. Rom. 2:29), the thing Israel most needed (cf. Dt. 30; the circumcised
heart was a promised, post-exilic, eschatological gift).
In Rom. 2, Paul is not drawing
an absolute antithesis between the inward and the outward. That would violate the unity of body and
soul found elsewhere in biblical theology.
Rather, Paul is showing that the Jews, by their stubborn unbelief and
rebellious idolization of Torah and their national privileges, have pried apart
the sign and thing signified. The
efficacy of the sacraments is conditional, after all – the offered blessings
must be received by faith, which then manifests itself in obedience. Paul is condemning Israel precisely for her
lack of faithfulness (cf. Rom. 3:1-4). And
yet, Israel’s unbelief puts God’s own trustworthiness on the line; thus Paul must
shows throughout the letter that God has acted righteously and kept the
promises. God has been true to the
covenant; he has fulfilled what circumcision stood for by sending the Christ
into the world as the promised Seed of the woman and Son of David.
But Israel has rejected
the Messiah and is now guilty of covenant breaking. She has rejected God’s way of covenant keeping in Christ. To cling to the sign of circumcision,
without faith in the one who fulfills the promise of circumcision, is utter
folly. Paul is simply identifying
Israel as a covenant breaking people.
But, of course, it is only because they have been circumcised that they
were covenant members in the first place.
Hyperbolically speaking, Jews have become non-Jews because they have
denied the purpose of their election.
Rom. 2, then, still stands as a warning to the baptized: be faithful to
the covenant or face the wrath of God.
But in context, it also provides hope: the old covenant was removed
precisely because it could not bring about en masse faithfulness on the part of
Israel. The new covenant, in the
Spirit, will do what the old could not, in the letter. Thus, baptism should not be plugged into
Rom. 2 in the place of circumcision in a simplistic manner; to get Paul’s
theology of baptism, we should fast forward ahead to Rom. 6. (It becomes obvious in that context that
baptism are not absolutely interchangeable since no one would think of
inserting circumcision for baptism in that passage.)
To come at this whole
issue from another direction, we should not say that baptism joins some to
visible church and others to the invisible church. That might be true in a highly theoretical sense, but, again, our
decisions and evaluations must be governed by what we can see, not by things
that are known only by God (Dt. 29:29).
In terms of the Westminster Confession, there is one church with two
aspects: historical and eschatological.
The invisible church is not a secret organization within the visible
church, but the future church, the church in its final, glorified form,
composed of all of the saved over the whole course of history (WCF 25.1; note
the language: the catholic, or universal church is invisible because it
contains the “whole number of the elect,” including those not yet born).
To sum up: baptism is an
action of God in the church in which union with Christ and all the blessings of
the new covenant are conferred and applied (cf. WLC 162-3). It is a sign and seal of the covenant of
grace, through which we admitted to the church and through which salvation is
effectually bestowed upon believers (WSC 91-94). Christ is present in the sacrament by his Word and Spirit to
communicate the benefits of redemption to worthy receivers (WCF 28). This is the only baptism there is in the new
covenant.
Church Membership as a Soteriological Fact
Some might think: so,
baptism joins the one baptized to the church – big deal! After all, church membership is just an
outward thing, unrelated to the deepest core of a person’s being. It’s an external relationship, one more
thing to strip away (like layers of onion) in getting at the real core of
someone’s personality.
Peter Leithart has
argued quite effectively against this view, showing that church membership is
in fact a soteriological fact. The
argument can be found in several places, most clearly, perhaps, in his essay
“Trinitarian Anthropology: Toward a Trinitarian Re-casting of Reformed
Theology“ in the book The Auburn Avenue
Theology: Pros and Cons, edited by Calvin Beisner. Leithart’s dissertation, The Priesthood of the Plebs should also be
consulted, since it ties in baptism with the church, salvation, and
personhood. I will not simply repeat
Leithart’s work here, only add a few thoughts to the matter to make a point
that I think has been overlooked.
I think a key reason high views of baptismal efficacy have proved
controversial in American Presbyterianism is that we have drifted into a rather
low ecclesiology. We have pried apart the church and salvation. Most of our time spent debating over the
“efficacy of the sacraments” should probably be spent exegeting NT texts on the
nature of the church. To put it in confessional terms, I do not think we
have taken seriously enough WCF 25.2. The visible church into which one
is admitted in baptism is no mere human organization. Rather, it is,
“the kingdom of the Lord Jesus Christ, the house and family of God.” These categories are clearly soteriological,
even if we must add that bare membership in the church is not enough to save
apart from a corresponding life of faithfulness (keep in mind the
objective/subjective distinction).
Kingdom subjects can rebel, the house can become defiled, and family
members can be disinherited.
Nevertheless, to be in the church is to be in the place of grace and
salvation.
Think through a few examples.
Suppose I walk into as room full of Reformed, confessional theologians
and say, “Hey, fellows, I believe baptism is the means by which one is made a
member of the kingdom of Christ!” It
might raise quite a protest. After all, someone might suggest that only
those born again enter the kingdom of God (Jn. 3)! But in truth, I have done nothing more than put WCF 25.2 and 28.1
together.
Or, to play it out again, suppose I walk into the room and say, “Hey
guys, I think in baptism, we are admitted to the house and family of God,”
someone might want to ask, “Hey, are you saying that everyone who gets baptized
is actually a part of God's house, the new covenant temple that is made of
living stones and is said to be indwelt by the Holy Spirit? Are you
saying every baptized person is a child of God? Really?” Things
might get pretty interesting – even heated.
But, again, I would have only parroted the Confession.
Those three categories found
in 25.2 -- kingdom, house, and family -- cover a lot of ground
theologically, and carve out more than enough space for everything I want to
say about baptism's efficacy. To say it again: Questions about baptismal
efficacy are not simply questions about baptism per se; they are also questions
about the community one enters into in baptism. Our current debates are
about ecclesiology every bit as much as they are about sacramental theology.
Or to put it another way, ecclesiology and sacramental theology are correlated to
one another.
Let’s spell this out a bit further.
Every person baptized is “automatically” (or “irresistibly”) put into
the kingdom, house, and family. So viewing baptism as an adoption rite
into the Triune family, for example, is entirely confessional, even though the
Standard's teaching on
baptism does not make that very explicit. I would think some kind of baptismal
regeneration is bound up in viewing the church as the "kingdom of Christ."
After all, only those born again can enter the kingdom, but everyone baptized is inserted into the kingdom in at least
some sense. Some form of the gift of
the Spirit must also be conferred in baptism. If the one baptized is made
a member of God's house, surely God dwells in that house by his Spirit!
God lives in the “visible” church -- a fact which has implications for how we
understand what it means to enter into the church via baptism.
25.2 can also be used to derive a pretty robust theology of apostasy. This
is important because a doctrine of genuine apostasy must also be the correlate
of a high view of baptismal efficacy.
Those who abandon the church and are excommunicated are disinherited
from the
Triune family, cast out of the kingdom of Christ, and removed from the Spirit-indwelt
house. But those blessings really were theirs prior to apostasy.
The confession says so. They must make up the “common operations of the
Spirit” mentioned in WCF 10.4; that is, they are undifferentiated blessings
that belong to all covenant members,
though they can be
forfeited by unbelief.
Can we then sum up how
all this fits together? In baptism we
are brought covenantally and publicly out of union with Adam and into union
with Christ. When this occurs, one is “born again,” not in the sense we have
come to speak of “regeneration” as an irresistible, irreversible change of
heart, but in the covenantal sense of being brought out of Adam’s family into
God’s family. In baptism, we are united
to Christ by faith, and therefore to the Triune God. Having been admitted to the fellowship of Father, Son, and
Spirit, this new relationship, like any other relationship, requires fidelity
and love. This doesn’t mean we maintain
our end of the covenant in our own strength; God provides that as well. But it does mean that there is such a thing
as covenant keeping and covenant breaking.
All covenant members are encouraged to rely on God’s promises and trust
him for the gift of perseverance.
In this relationship, one has, in principle, all the blessings and benefits in
the heavenly places delivered over to him as he is “in Christ.” We’ve already
noted that baptism is like an adoption ceremony. The adopted child is brought
into a new relationship, given a new name, new blessings, a new future, new opportunities,
a new inheritance – in short, a new life. And yet these blessings, considered
from the standpoint of the covenant rather than the eternal decree, are
mutable. The child is a full member of
the family and has everything that comes with comes with sonship. But, if he
grows up and rejects his Father and Mother (God and the church), if refuses to
repent and return home when warned and threatened, then he loses all the
blessings that were his. It would not be accurate to say that he never had
these things; he did possess them, even though he never experienced or enjoyed
some of them. By refusing to abide in
covenant, he faces a more severe judgment than others who were never admitted
to the family, or given such rich and gracious promises.
This fits precisely with the way the church is addressed in Scripture. For example, Paul can say that all who are
members of Christ have new creation life.
They are justified, washed, sanctified, and so on. All these things are theirs “in Christ.”
But, like Israel of old, the church must persevere faithfully in these things.
If we renounce the Savior, refuse to repent, and fall away from the faith, we
lose all these blessings that were ours “in Christ” -- and we lose them,
because they are only ours “in Christ,” not outside of Him.
None of this touches upon a Calvinistic view of God’s sovereign decree. Entrance into covenant via baptism, with
subsequent perseverance by some and final apostasy by others, are both included
in God’s decree. We don’t know what God
has planned in the end for any individual until it happens. Under God’s decree, we can insist that only
those predestined for ultimate resurrection glory will be preserved in true
faith and repentance until the end. But
note how Scripture describes apostates.
It does not deny that they were truly blessed in the covenant
relationship while it lasted. Nor does
it always ascribe their apostasy to God’s sovereign purposes (though it does do
that!). It speaks of apostates as those
who trampled the Son of God underfoot, counted the blood of the covenant by
which they were sanctified a common thing, and they insulted the Spirit of
grace. They are among those who received the grace of God in vain. They have forgotten that they were cleansed
from their former sins and had once escaped the pollutions of the world. Their
names are blotted out of the book of life.
All of this works out in accordance with God's eternal decree, even
though apostates must take full responsibility for their actions.
The Status of Covenant Children
Related to the question
of baptismal regeneration is the issue of the status of a covenant child. How should we regard a baptized child? As a non-Christian in need of conversion
when he comes of age? As a little heathen? Or as a Christian, albeit an immature one,
who shares the same covenant status and privileges as his parents and every
other member of the church? Should a
child be exhorted to close with Christ for the first time? Or should he be encouraged to “improve his
baptism” and persevere in the grace he’s already received (cf. WLC 167)? Can we in good faith teach our children the
Lord’s Prayer (“Our Father”) and “Jesus Loves Me”?
This is not the first
time these questions have become a matter of controversy. For example, in the mid-nineteenth century,
Charles Hodge (representing northern Presbyterianism) and James Henly Thornwell
(representing southern Presbyterianism) squared off in debate over precisely
this issue. In part, the controversy
concerned whether or not baptized children should be regarded as already under
church censure until they manifest repentance, or potentially subject to church
censure should they manifest rebellion.
Are baptized children guilty until they prove themselves innocent, or
innocent until proven guilty?
Without going into great
detail, Hodge argued convincingly that covenant children should be regarded as
fellow Christians and believers.
Parents should apply a model of “covenant nurture” rather than they
paradigm of revivalistic conversionism.
Hodge’s essay on covenant nurture included these thoughts on parental
nurture (emphasis added):
[It is] a scriptural truth that the children of
believers are the children of God;
as being within his covenant with their parents, he promises to them his
Spirit; he has established a connection between faithful parental training and
the salvation of children, as he has between seed-time and harvest, diligence
and riches, education and knowledge. In no one case is absolute certainty
secured or the sovereignty of God excluded. But in all, the divinely appointed
connection between means and end, is obvious.
That
this connection is not more apparent, in the case of parents and children, is
due in great measure, to the sad deficiency in parental fidelity. If we look
over the Christian world, how few nominally Christian parents even pretend to
bring up their children for God. In a great majority of cases the attainment of
some worldly object is avowedly made the end of education; and all the
influences to which a child is exposed are designed and adapted to make him a
man of the world. And even within the pale of evangelical churches, it must be
confessed, there is a great neglect as to this duty . . .
We
of course recognize the native depravity of children, the absolute necessity of
their regeneration by the Holy Spirit, the inefficiency of all means of grace
without the blessing of God. But what we think is plainly taught in Scripture,
what is reasonable in itself, and confirmed by the experience of the church,
is, that early, assiduous, and faithful religious culture of the young,
especially by believing parents, is the great means of their salvation. A child is born in a Christian family, its
parents recognize it as belonging to God and included in his covenant. In full
faith that the promise extends to their children as well as to themselves, they
[give] their child to him in baptism. From its earliest infancy it is the
object of tender solicitude, and the subject of many believing prayers. The
spirit which reigns around it is the spirit, not of the world, but of true
religion. The truth concerning God and Christ, the way of salvation and of
duty, is inculcated from the beginning, and as fast as it can be comprehended.
The child is sedulously guarded as far as possible from all corrupting
influence, and subject to those which tend to lead him to God. He is constantly taught that he stands in a
peculiar relation to God, as being included in his covenant and baptized in his
name; that he has in virtue of that relation a right to claim God as his
Father, Christ as his Saviour, and the Holy Ghost as his sanctifier; and
assured that God will recognize that claim and receive him as his child, if he
is faithful to his baptismal vows. The child thus trained grows up in the
fear of God; his earliest experiences are more or less religious; he keeps
aloof from open sins; strives to keep his conscience clear in the sight of God,
and to make the divine will the guide of his conduct. When he comes to
maturity, the nature of the covenant of grace is fully explained to him, he
intelligently and deliberately assents to it, publicly confesses himself to be
a worshipper and follower of Christ, and acts consistently with his
engagements. This is no fancy sketch.
Such an experience is not uncommon in actual life. It is obvious that in
such cases it must be difficult both for the person himself and for those
around him, to fix on the precise period when he passed from death unto life.
And even in cases, where there is more of a conflict, where the influence of
early instruction has met with greater opposition, and where the change is more
sudden and observable, the result, under God, is to be attributed to this
parental training . . .
As
this method of religious training has the sanction of a divine command, so it
has also the benefit of his special promise. Success in the use of this means
is the very thing promised to parents in the covenant into which they are
commanded to introduce their children. God,
in saying that he will be their God, gives them his Spirit, and renews their
hearts, and in connecting this promise with the command to bring them up for
him, does thereby engage to render such training effectual. Train up a
child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it,
is moreover the express assurance of his word. There is also a natural
adaptation in all means of God's appointment, to the end they are intended to
accomplish. There is an appropriate connection between sowing and reaping,
between diligence and prosperity, truth and holiness, religious training and
the religious life of children.
John Williamson Nevin
argued the same points in his devastating critiques of revivalism, though he
was more explicit in making baptism the foundation of such nurture. Robert Rayburn has demonstrated that this view
of covenant children was the mainstream Reformed view in his fine essay “The Presbyterian Doctrines of Covenant
Children, Covenant Nurture And Covenant Succession,” available at http://www.faithtacoma.org/covenant.htm. Hodge and Rayburn do not espouse the precise
view of baptism enunciated by me in this essay, but the practical outworkings
of their understanding of the place of covenant children is very similar. The both insist that we should parent in
terms of the promises – that is to say, covenant children are to be regarded as
full members of the people of God.[13]
Here is catena of quotations I’ve collected over the years, Scriptural
and historical, demonstrating that numerous Reformed theologians have rightly and
biblically believed that baptized (and to some extent, even pre-baptized
children) should be regarded as fellow Christians and should be reared
accordingly (emphasis added):
·
I believe that faithful parents can be sure that their children will be
saved and go to heaven. This assurance
is based on the promises of God to them and their families. There are conditions that parents are to
meet, by God’s grace, as the normal means to the salvation of their
children. If parents abandon their
responsibilities, then they have forsaken their agreement or covenant with God
and have no reason to expect that the promises of God for their children’s
salvation will be fulfilled. Parents
are to perform all their duties in a spirit of faith, looking to Jesus alone to
make their efforts successful. Children
are not saved because of their
parents. They are saved by grace
through the redemption of Jesus Christ.
Christian parents are simply the channel through which the message of
this salvation is normally conveyed.
They most likely will be the tools God uses to bring the salvation
offered in His Son to their children.
Though most children rightly raised will be saved and grow in grace
early in their lives, some may not follow Christ until later. In such rare cases, the promised salvation
is received, but not as quickly as anticipated. -- Edward N. Gross
·
God is so kind and liberal to his servants, as, for their sakes, to
appoint even the children who shall descend from them to be enrolled among his
people. -- John Calvin
·
The child of a Christian parent is presumptively a Christian and an heir
of eternal life . . . Christian nurture beginning in infancy is the divine
instrumentality of the salvation of the church’s children . . . [and] the
primary method appointed for the propagating of the church . . . I do not hesitate
to claim that far and away the largest part of the Christian church at any time
or place -- excepting that historical moment when the gospel first reaches a
place and a people -- are those who were born and raised in Christian families
and that this is true whether one is considering Christendom as an outward
phenomenon or only the company of the faithful followers of Christ . . . The
biblical paradigm is for covenant children to grow up in faith from infancy. --
Robert Rayburn
·
Baptized infants are to be received as children of God and treated
accordingly. -- John Murray
·
God pronounces that he adopts our infants as his children, before they
are born, when he promises that he will be a God to us, and to our seed after
us. This
promise includes their salvation. -- John Calvin
·
[The] family . . . is the New Testament basis of the Church of God . . . [God]
does, indeed require individual faith for salvation; but He organizes His
people in families first; and then into churches, recognizing in their very
warp and woof the family constitution.
His promises are all the more precious that they are to us and our
children. And though this may not fit
with the growing individualism of the day, it is God’s ordinance. -- B. B.
Warfield
·
The mere promise of God
ought to be sufficient to assure us of the salvation of our children. -- John Calvin
·
The children of the faithful which are born in the Church are from their
mother’s womb of the household of the kingdom of God. -- John Calvin
·
This principle should ever be kept in mind, that baptism is not conferred
on children in order that they may become
sons and heirs of God, but because they are already
considered by God as occupying that place and rank, the grace of adoption is
sealed in their flesh by the rite of baptism. -- W. Miller
·
As soon as infants are born among them, the Lord signs them with the
sacred symbol of baptism; they are therefore, in some sense, the people of God.
-- John Calvin
·
[We] do not asssert their regeneration, or that they are truly members of
Christ’s body; we only assert that they belong to the class of persons whom we
are bound to regard and treat as members of Christ’s Church. This
is the only sense in which even adults are members of the Church, so far as men
are concerned. -- Charles Hodge
·
The offspring of believers is born holy, because their children, while
yet in the womb . . . are included in the covenant of eternal life . . . Nor .
. . are they admitted into the Church by baptism on any other ground than that they belonged to the body of Christ before
they were born. -- John Calvin
·
The salvation of
infants is included in the promise in which God declares to believers that he
will be a God to them and to their seed . . . Their salvation, therefore, has not
its commencement in baptism, but being already founded on the word, is sealed
by baptism. -- John Calvin
·
Here certainly appears the extraordinary love of our God, in that as soon
as we are born, and just as we come from our mother, he hath commanded us to be
solemnly brought from her bosom as it were into his own arms, that he should
bestow upon us, in the very cradle, the tokens of our dignity and future
kingdom . . . that [he joins us] to himself in the most solemn covenant from
our most tender years: the remembrance of which, as it is glorious and full of
consolation to us, so in like manner it tends to promote Christian virtues, and
the strictest holiness, through the whole course of our lives. Nothing ought to be dearer to us than to
keep sacred and inviolable that covenant of our youth, that first and most
solemn engagement, that was made to God in our name. -- Herman Witsius
·
Infants are renewed by the Spirit of God, according to the capacity of
their age, till that power which was concealed within them grows by degrees,
and becomes fully manifest at the proper time. -- John Calvin
·
The children of the godly are born the children of the Church, and . . . they
are accounted members of Christ from the womb, because God adopteth us upon
this condition, that he may be also the Father of our seed. -- John Calvin
·
But You are He who took Me out of the womb; You made Me trust while on My
mother’s breasts. -- Psalm 22:9
·
[At the time of the Reformation], confessional status was granted to the
affirmations that covenant children are Christians, that they are baptized
because the power and substance of the sacrament belongs to them, that they are
heirs of the same blessing promised to their parents, that they are capable of
regeneration and of the ‘seed of faith,’ and that, should they die in infancy,
they are saved. -- Robert Rayburn
·
But the mercy of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting on those who
fear Him, And His righteousness to children’s children, To such as keep His
covenant, And to those who remember His commandments to do them. -- Psalm
103:17-18
·
The promise is made to believers and their seed; and that the seed and
posterity of the faithful, born within the church, have, by their birth,
interest in the covenant, and the right to the seal of it, and the outward
privileges of the church . . . That children, by baptism, are solemnly received
into the bosom of the visible church, distinguished from the world, and them
that are without, and united with believers; and that all who are baptized in
the name of Christ, do renounce, and by their baptism are bound to fight
against the devil, the world, and the flesh:
That they are Christians and
federally holy before baptism. -- The Westminster Directory for the Public
Worship of God
·
Then Peter said to them, “Repent, and let every one of you be baptized in
the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sins, and you shall receive the
gift of the Holy Spirit. For the
promise is to you and to your children, and to all who are afar off, as many as
the Lord our God will call.” -- Acts 2:38-39
·
They also brought infants to Him that He might touch them; but when the
disciples saw it, they rebuked them.
But Jesus called them to Him and said, “Let the little children come to
Me, and do not forbid them; for of such is the kingdom of God. Assuredly, I say to you, whoever does not receive
the kingdom of God as a little child will by no means enter it.” -- Luke
18:15-17
·
. . . if a man is blameless, the
husband of one wife, having faithful children not accused of dissipation or
insubordination. -- Titus 1:6
·
It is God’s will and declared purpose that his saving grace run in the
lines of generations . . . Imagine the contrary: that Christian parents brought
children into the world with no confidence at all that the saving grace which
had been pitched upon them -- among the comparatively few in all the world so
favored -- would likewise be pitched upon their children, whom they love as
they love life itself. Christian parents
do not imagine themselves to be populating hell when they bring sons and
daughters into the world! -- Robert Rayburn
·
But did He not make them one, giving a remnant of the Spirit? And why one? He seeks godly offspring.
Therefore take heed to your spirit, and let none deal treacherously with
the wife of his youth. -- Malachi 2:15
·
And I will establish My covenant between Me and you and your descendants
after you in their generations, for an everlasting covenant, to be God to you
and your descendants after you . . . For I have known him, in order that he may
command his children and his household after him, that they keep the way of the
Lord, to do righteousness and justice, that the Lord may bring to Abraham what
He has spoken to him. -- Genesis 17:7; 18:19
·
It must be plainly stated that the promise made to the children of the
covenant is not that of a special status of privilege but is precisely the promise of the gospel, eternal life in
heaven. Whether the form of the promise
is that God should be their God (Gen. 17:7), or that he will extend to them his
righteousness (Ps. 103:17), or his Spirit (Isa. 59:21), or his forgiveness
(Acts 2:38-39), or his salvation (Acts 16:31), the covenant which thus embraces
the children with their believing parents is the covenant of grace. -- Robert Rayburn
·
By virtue of their sacramental initiation, of the requirement of their
presence at renewals of the covenant (Deut 29:9-15; Joel 2:16), of their being addressed as among the saints
and as part of the church with corresponding obligations (Eph 1:1; 6:1-3) of
their holiness (1 Cor 7:14), of the kingdom of God being theirs (Matt
18:13-15), they are members of the church.
All the more, given presumption of early faith, they meet the
requirements of church membership.
Another lovely and highly important way of making this point in
Scripture is the Lord’s practice of speaking of covenant children as his children (Ezek 16:20-21; Mal 2:15;
cf. Isa 29:23). It is again
extraordinary how thoroughly rooted in evangelical culture has become the
practice of covenant children ‘joining the church’ when Scripture provides
neither instruction or illustration supportive of the practice but rather, in
every way, regards such children as already part of the community of the saints
from the beginning of their lives.
Indeed, the recognition that covenant children are church members from
their infancy, furnishes the simplest resolution of certain practical
objections commonly raised against the doctrine of covenant succession. If, for example, it be objected that it
cannot be known that a very little child is or will eventually become a
faithful follower of Christ, it needs only be pointed out that, so far as human
judgment is concerned, that uncertainty applies equally to those who enter the
church from the world by profession of faith.
Just as those who enter the church from the world, covenant children are
required, as all church members, to grow up in the grace and knowledge of God
and to live worthy of the calling they have received. As with older church members, other are appointed to help them do
so. The immensely important consequence
of this infant membership is that the duty of parents and the church becomes,
thereby, to train their children to believe, feel, and live as becomes the
children of God and members of his household, which they are! Especially parents, who are the masters of
their children’s thoughts in the formative years, are responsible to ensure
that the children of the covenant grow up fully aware and appreciative of the
promises which have been made to them by name and the summons which was issued
to them at the headwaters of their lives.
Surely one of the most dismal evidences of the debasement of this
doctrine in Presbyterian churches is in the general insensibility of covenant
children themselves to their status, their breathtaking privileges, and their
sacred obligations. -- Robert Rayburn
·
Almighty God, our Heavenly Father, give us such a seed! Give us a seed right with Thee! Smite us and our house with everlasting
barrenness rather than that our seed should not be right with Thee. O God, give us our children. Give us our children. A second time, and by a far better birth,
give us our children to be beside us in Thy holy covenant. For it had been better we had never been
born; it had been better we had never been betrothed; it had been better we had
sat all our days solitary unless our children are to be right with Thee . . . But
thou, O God, art Thyself a Father, and thus hast in Thyself a Father’s
heart. Hear us, then, for our children,
O our Father . . . In season and out of season; we shall not go up into our
bed; we shall not give sleep to our eyes nor slumber to our eyelids till we and
all our seed are right with Thee. – A. Whyte
·
God cannot resist a parent’s prayer when it is sufficiently backed up
with a parent’s sanctification. -- A. Whyte
·
Those who say the infancy has nothing in it for Jesus to save, are
denying that Christ is Jesus for all believing infants. Those, I repeat, who say that infancy has
nothing in it for Jesus to save, are saying nothing else than that for believing infants, infants that is, who have
been baptized in Christ, Christ the Lord is not Jesus. After all, what is Jesus? Jesus means Savior. Jesus is the Savior. Those whom he doesn’t save, having nothing
to save in them, for them he isn’t Jesus.
Well now, if you can tolerate the idea that Christ is not Jesus for some
persons who have been baptized, then I am not sure your faith can be recognized
as according to the sound rule. Yes,
they are infants, but they’re his members (1 Cor. 12:27). They are infants, but they receive the
sacraments. They are infants, but they
share in his table, in order to have life in themselves (Jn. 6:53). -- Augustine
·
God has cast the line of election so it runs for the most part through the
loins of godly parents. – C. Mather
·
All this that we here suffer is through you! You should have taught us the things of God and did not! You should have restrained us from sin and
corrected us and you did not! You were
the means of our original corruption and yet you never showed any competent
care that we might be delivered from it!
Woe unto us that we had such carnal and careless parents! And woe unto you that no more compassion and
pity to prevent the everlasting misery of your own children! – C. Mather
(depicting covenant breaking children speaking to their parents on judgment
day)
·
Better whipped than damned. – C. Mather (on the necessity of child
discipline)
·
A man with unbelieving children is a man with a defect which disqualifies
him from the leadership of the church . . . nowhere does the Scripture suggest
the contrary, that blameless parental nurture might still result in one’s
children growing up to a life of unbelief. -- Robert Rayburn
·
For You are my hope, O Lord God; You are my trust from my youth. By You I have been upheld from birth; You
are He who took me out of my mother’s womb.
My praise shall be continually of You. – Psalm 71:5-6
·
At that time the disciples came to Jesus, saying, “Who then is greatest
in the kingdom of heaven?” Then Jesus called a little child to Him, set him in
the midst of them, and said, “Assuredly, I say to you, unless you
are converted and become as little children, you will by no means enter the
kingdom of heaven. 4Therefore whoever humbles himself as this little
child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. 5Whoever receives
one little child like this in My name receives Me. Whoever causes one of these
little ones who believe in Me to sin,
it would be better for him if a millstone were hung around his neck, and he
were drowned in the depth of the sea.” – Mt. 18:2-6
Again, not every
quotation here represents precisely the view of baptism argued for in this
paper. But on the whole, these
Scriptural passages and historic testimonies show that a wide swath of the
church has held to the possibility, even the normativity, of infant faith and
salvation within covenant families.
Moreover, such parental nurture and instruction, based upon this
covenantal status, is blessed by God and made effectual for securing growth and
maturation in the faith. This is so
important for us to see today, in an age in which many even in the Reformed
church basically don’t know how to view their children, or actually view them
as rank outsiders. The covenant
promises and baptism should form the foundation of our philosophy of parenting.
The Tangled Webb
What then are we to make
of Webb’s charges that I have espoused baptismal regeneration? Webb quotes me as saying, “’Does God save or
does baptism save?’ poses a false dilemma. God saves through baptism; it is one
of his instruments of salvation, along with the Word and the Eucharist.” He then asks: “Surely, although these are
quotes from men in good standing in Reformed denominations, this cannot be
Reformed teaching? How can this
be reconciled with what our Standards teach?”
I would point to, among other places, WSC 88, in which baptism is
identified as one of the “outward means whereby Christ communicateth to us the
benefits of redemption.” I think my
teaching squares quite nicely with classical Reformed theology (though I
happily admit there have always been a variety of views on these matters within
the Reformed world).
Webb sees me as teaching
that baptism is a “converting ordinance.”
I’m not sure that’s quite right; or at least it’s not that simple. After all, I do insist that faith is
necessary to receive the grace of baptism.
The argument here is much like the one examined earlier over “baptismal
regeneration.” Webb appealed to Hodge
to show baptismal regeneration is unreformed; but, of course, Hodge was not
seeking to refute anything like what I’ve articulated. The meaning of
the term “baptismal regeneration” got switched in the middle of the
argument, and so we're left comparing apples to oranges. Webb is
plugging my statements into his (or Hodge’s) framework, and an obvious heresy
pops out (one we'd both reject).
I haven’t used the language of baptism as “converting ordinance.” What exactly does that terminology
mean? Baptism is a sign and seal of
God’s covenant, not our conversion.
Baptism is God’s action; conversion (faith and repentance) is ours. Baptism doesn’t cause conversion, per se. It’s
hard to tell just what Webb is driving at.
Now is the problem here due to my inability to communicate? Or
to Webb’s inaccurate reading of my position? I am sure I could have
said things better; that's why I put my views in public in the first place --
to be sharpened, to see how things could be said more faithfully and
clearly. To parrot N. T. Wright, I am continuing my theological education
in public – with all the hard knocks that come with that territory.
But I also think Webb's been a bit quick to pull the trigger before
he really understood the placement of his target (and, of course, he isn't
alone). Admittedly, this requires a bit
of a “paradigm shift.” American
Presbyterians have a hard time recovering what it means to speak of the
efficacy of the sacraments in an instrumental fashion. It’s very easy to plug my sorts of
statements into a foreign framework, rather than grappling with them on their
own terms. So I plead for patience, and
more discussion. I even hope this paper
will nudge the conversation forward a tiny bit.
That being said, I do think that Webb’s view, though prevalent, is
problematic. For example, Webb quotes
Jeffrey Meyers: “Think about how we
begin our Christian life among the assembled people of God when we are named
and claimed by the Triune God
at the baptismal font. The Father adopts us in his one and only Son by means of
the washing of regeneration, giving us a new life in his redeemed family.” Then
Webb comments: “If Reverend Myers is correct, and we have regeneration,
adoption as Sons, and redemption via baptism, it will have inevitable
repercussions on whether, for instance, we urge our children to close with
Christ by faith alone. Why, after all, would we urge them to do something that
has already occurred at the font?”
Webb has set out the issues nicely, but it’s not at all clear to me that
he really has the confessional high ground.
For example, why shouldn’t we urge our children to “improve their
baptisms” rather than “close with Christ”?
They were already sealed into Christ in baptism; it makes no sense to
continue treating them as outsiders.
Instead we need to urge them to seriously and thankfully consider the
privileges and benefits conferred upon them in baptism, lest they walk contrary
to the grace of baptism (WLC 167).
Nothing in our confessional standards indicates that baptized children
are in need of “conversion” to faith and repentance for the first time, as
opposed to perseverance in faith and repentance already begun. If anything, covenant nurture, rather than
covenant conversion, is the privileged paradigm in the Confession.[14] (Of course, I realize “conversion” can be
used in the sense of life-long renewal in faith and repentance; in that sense
both baptized adults and children need ongoing conversion.)
Webb explains how he perceives my concern and where I have gone
wrong:
So
what then is going on here? Men like Lusk have answered that what has happened
is that modern Presbyterians have adopted “Gnostic” and “baptistic” theology
and have abandoned the real efficacy of baptism in favor of an over-reliance on
the word preached. They argue that we have corrupted the true meaning of
baptism, that we have denuded it of its efficacy as a means of salvation due to
baptistic, revivalistic,
and rationalistic influences.
I certainly have not
intentionally tried to de-value the preaching of the word. There is no reason why Word and sacrament
should play a zero sum game against one another, in which focusing on one
necessarily deprecates the other. In
fact, in my essay, “Some Thoughts on the Means of Grace” (http://www.hornes.org/theologia/content/rich_lusk/some_thoughts_on_the_means_of_grace.htm),
I sought to show that Word and sacrament are both indispensable and work
together in God’s economy of redemption.
In that article, I followed Calvin in emphasizing that the preached Word
is a genuine means of grace precisely because God works through – indeed,
speaks through – the pastor as his ordained instrument.
I’m certainly not the
first or only person to point out certain Gnostic tendencies in American
Christianity, including Americanized Reformed theology (see, e.g., Philip Lee’s
excellent expose, Against the Protestant
Gnostics). I’m also not the first
to suggest that American Presbyterianism has downplayed the sacraments to its
detriment (see, e.g., Keith Mathison’s Given
for You). I think both revivalism
and Enlightenment rationalism have a taken a toll on our sacramental theology
(see, e.g., James White’s Sacraments as
God’s Self-Giving). I’m happy to reassess
my understanding of the history of Reformed theology, and what’s gone wrong, of
course. But Webb doesn’t provide any
counter-evidence to the claim that there’s been a “sacramental downgrade.”
Interestingly, Webb
admits that Calvin uses the language of baptismal regeneration: “Now, it is quite true that when one turns
to Calvin and some of the continental Reformed theologians, there is indeed an
unhappy tendency to use language in regard to infant baptism that would seem to
imply that they are regenerated at the time of their baptism.” This is an important concession; at the very
least Webb is conceding that one can use “baptismal regeneration” language,
properly articulated and defined, and still be Calvinistic. He writes,
[W]hile
I am a great admirer of men like Calvin and Ursinus, they frequently make
statements regarding the efficacy of the sacraments that either can be
misunderstood or which do indeed, in the case of infants, seem to
exceed the bounds of scripture . . .
[W]e would still be very foolish to suppose that
Federal Vision advocates have no statements they can appeal to in the
work of Calvin and the continental Reformed in order to support their
even more sweeping sacramental theories.
Webb admits that he has chosen the Southern Presbyterian strand of Reformed
theology as the best and purest. Webb’s
paper is important, because it shows that this is truly an intramural debate
amongst Reformed brethren. That context
should determine the tone of our conversation from beginning to end. In a sense the question comes down to
this: Were the Southern Presbyterians
justified in departing from Calvin’s high sacramental theology? It’s Thornwell and Dabney vs. Calvin and
Bucer.
Webb identifies two
errors he believes we’ve made: [1] confusing the sign and thing signified; and
[2] supposing that sacraments are efficacious apart from faith. On point [1], I will simply point to my
essay, already referenced, “Paedobaptism and Baptismal Efficacy” in the Federal Vision book. On pages 97-102, I deal extensively with the
sign and thing signified relationship, showing how the Reformed tradition
understands the “sacramental union.” I
demonstrate (hopefully with some degree of conclusiveness) that the sign and
the thing signified are to be distinguished without being separated. Ascribing efficacy to baptism is not
ascribing efficacy to the external sign (water); it is ascribing efficacy to a
rite performed in God’s name and with his authorization and promise. My counter-question for Webb is simple: What
are the parts (note the plural) of a sacrament? (cf. WLC 163). He seems
to have have defined the sacrament as a sign, without the thing signified; but
the Reformed definition includes both.
In other words, insofar as baptism is a sacramental act/event, every
baptism includes both the outward sign and the thing signified. There’s no such thing as a Spirit baptism
without water, or a water baptism without the Spirit. Baptism = water + Spirit, by definition.
On point [2], I’ve
repeatedly stressed the need for faith to receive what God gives in baptism in
this paper. See also The Federal Vision, 103-107 and Appendix
2 to this essay. I simply do not think
Webb’s charges stick. I can fully agree
with Webb’s quotation from Ursinus (“The condition of faith is joined to the
promise; for those who are baptized do not receive what is promised and sealed
by baptism unless they have faith, so that without faith the promise is not
ratified, and baptism is of no profit. In these words we have expressed in a
concise manner the proper use of baptism in which the sacraments are always
ratified to those who receive them in faith; whilst the sacraments are no
sacraments, and profit nothing in their improper use”) and Calvin (“But from
this sacrament, as from all others, we gain nothing, unless in so far as we
receive in faith”). The question I’d
like to hear Webb answer is this: What
can faith expect to receive in the rite of baptism? What is the believing heart warranted in expecting from God’s
hand in the sacrament? If baptism is
not the objective offer of forgiveness and a new life in Christ, what is it?
Webb is afraid that a
high “sacramentalism” will lead to “nominalism,” and “thence on to liberalism
amongst Protestants.” But, of course,
low sacramental churches have been just as susceptible to nominalism as high
sacramental churches – the nominalism just takes different forms. At this point, Webb actually sounds quite
Baptistic – after all, if nominalism is the basic problem that needs to be
addressed, and the way to do so is through attenuating the sacraments, the
pressure mounts to dispose with infant baptism altogether since it is the
ultimate culprit in producing nominalism.
Actually, there is a better way, found, again, in WLC 167. We don’t counter nominalism by telling
people nothing of significance happened when they got baptized; instead, we
remind them of all that God has sealed to them in the rite and call them to
live accordingly. We then warn them of
the grave dangers of apostasy, should they refuse to live out their baptisms in
constant, persevering faith and repentance.
The answer to nominalism is not a low sacramental theology; it’s
vigorous exhorting (“Be who you are – dead to sin and alive to righteousness!”)
and faithful church discipline.
Webb reveals his
revivalistic impulses when he criticizes Ursinus and Calvin for believing that
infants have faith:
The
problem with the way Ursinus and Calvin occasionally speak of
baptism is that they presuppose that this necessary faith exists in the
children of believers. Note the language in Ursinus here, after
affirming that adults must first believe and make a profession of faith
prior to being baptized, Ursinus writes:
This we admit and would add, that to be born in the church, is to
infants, the same thing as a profession of faith. Faith is, indeed,
necessary to the use of baptism with this distinction. Actual faith is
required in adults, and an inclination to faith in infants . . . Infants
born of believing parents have faith as to inclination.
Webb points out examples
of apostates to prove that this infant inclination to faith is not
universal. Several of Webb’s examples
rest on questionable exegesis (e.g., some commentators have made a case that,
despite their typological functions in the NT, we should be open to the possibility that Ishmael was saved, in
light of Gen. 21, and that Esau repented, in light of Gen. 33, even though both
were excluded from the messianic seed line).
But even aside from that, he has not considered another possibility,
namely, that the men in question did have infant faith, though they later
abandoned the covenant. In other words,
they were temporary believers, or apostates.
In light of the way Psalm 22:9-10 seems to make infant faith normative
within the covenant community, this is an interpretive option that should not
be lightly dismissed.
Of course, Webb is not
open to a genuine apostasy, “that those who were engrafted into Christ really
can fall away.” But such a view of
apostasy is by no means antithetical to Calvinism or divine sovereignty. See my article “Hebrews 6:4-8: New Life and
Apostasy” in The Federal Vision,
pages 271-299 and Martin Emmrich, “Hebrews 6 –Again!” in Westminster Theological Journal 65 (2003):83-95. Emmrich shows with rather definitive
exegesis that the gift of the Spirit and the blessings of the covenant can in
fact be forefeited, in terms of the theology of Hebrews. This is not, however, the same as saying
that those who persevere have done so in their own strength (a position Webb
labels as “covenant nomism). Instead,
it simply means that not everyone brought into the fellowship of the covenant –
or into the blessings listed in Heb. 6:4-5 -- or into the kingdom, house, and
temple of God, to use the language of WCF 25.2 – is predestined for final
glory. If Webb wants to refute this
doctrine of apostasy, he’ll have to actually exegete the passages being used to
support to it; not simply prooftext a few passages that speak of perseverance. I agree with him that those predestined for
final glory will persevere by the grace of God; where we seem to differ is in
the “common operations of the Spirit” ultimate reprobates can experience for a
season with the covenant (WCF 10.4).
Webb says “I’ll stick with the old paths” of Southern Presbyterianism. But I ask: Why not walk in the still older paths of Calvin, Ursinus, Bucer,
and others, who maintained a higher doctrine of sacramental power, and, to my
mind at least, gave superior exegesis to the texts in question. Webb appeals to the Southern Presbyterian
metaphor for understanding children as “minor citizens in the ecclesiastical
commonwealth” (R. L. Dabney; he also cites B. M. Palmer). This is illustration is fine as far as it goes;
but it doesn’t go far enough. It certainly
falls short of the triad given in WCF 25.2 for ecclesiastical membership
(kingdom, house, family; obviously, these objective blessings are conferred on
infant members of the visible church just as much as adults).
In conclusion, I’m thankful for Webb’s article because, while I think there
is some misunderstanding, he’s provided a helpful occasion for clarifying just
where the differences may be found and how they might be resolved. It is my hope that the discussion will
continue until we reach oneness of mind and heart.
Appendix 1: Theological Terminology – Fixed or
Fluid?
One charge brought
against me and others is that we have adopted a “novel terminology.” We have departed from the norms and
consensus amongst Reformed theologians in the vocabulary we use. For example, Cal Beisner makes this charge
in The Auburn Avenue Theology, pages
306-7.
This is certainly a cause for confusion. At the same time, it’s really not that unusual. Nor should it be a problem, in the grand
scheme of things. When I subscribed to
the Standards, I did not vow to use their language exclusively; I subscribed to
a system of doctrine, a system which, in fact, admits of a variety of
formulations for different purposes and contexts. I think it would be
very difficult as a pastor and teacher to limit myself to the vocabulary of the
Westminster Standards, since the Standards use a fairly technical vocabulary
that does not match the Bible's vocabulary in a one-for-one fashion (e.g., as
we’ve already seen, “regeneration” in Mt. 19:28, which virtually no commentator
would even try to take in the Westminsterian sense; cf. also “new heart” and “new
man” terminology in 1 Sam. 10). Nor do the Standards use an identical set of
terms to Calvin or the other Reformed confessions (e.g., “regeneration” in
Calvin and the Belgic Confession). If I
limited myself to Westminster’s terminology, I could quote neither Calvin nor
the Bible!
Earlier Reformed
theologians understood there would always be a variety in terms and formulas,
and so we should show deference to one another and be cautious in assessing one
another’s orthodoxy. Far too many
theological wars have truly been logomachies.
When Bullinger and Jud signed the First Helvetic Confession, they knew
they were not subscribing to a timeless system of truth with a fixed set of
terms:
We
wish in no way to prescribe for all churches through these
articles
a single rule of faith. For we acknowledge no other rule of faith
than
Holy Scripture. We agree with whoever agrees with this, although he
uses
different expressions from our Confession. For we should have regard
for
the fact itself and for the truth, not for the words. We grant to
everyone
the freedom to use his own expressions which are suitable for his
church
and will make use of this freedom ourselves, at the same time
defending
the true sense of the Confession against distortions.
This “freedom of
expression” in Reformed theology is largely missing today, as is the
understanding that orthodoxy is not reducible to a particular form of
words. God’s truth is so rich and
varied and multi-faceted, there are numerous ways to say the truth.
Thinking we have a
master dictionary of theological terms can all too easily make us too sure of
ourselves. Armed with its trusty
definitions, we think we have things pinned down. We think we have the last word on divine truth. But the outcome of this scholastic
methodology is inevitable miscommunication with other Christians who have not
been enculturated into our precise theological vocabulary, or who have chosen
(for whatever reason) to use a different vocabulary. If we're not careful, an overly precise theological lexicon will
make it insufferably hard to relate to Christians who do not use the same
highly specialized, technical terminology we have chosen to use. Charity demands that we show catholicity in
the formulations we tolerate.
In fact a fixed
vocabulary, such as we have in the Westminster Standards (especially the
Catechisms) can even act a blinder of sorts when it comes to reading the Bible,
since the Bible does not use a technical vocabulary, and, in fact, uses terms
in ways quite distinct from the Catechism itself. The Catechism may appear to be a sort of infallible theological
dictionary, a “reader’s guide” to Scripture, but such an approach misuses the
Catechism and misunderstands the Bible.
People long for a timeless creed that will serve as the “final word,” as
a creed to end all creeds. But this idolizes a human interpretation of divine
revelation.
Anthony Lane helpfully
explains the status of theological language:
Do
our doctrines partake of the precision of mathematical formulae? If so, there can be no scope for diversity
[of expression]. If the result of a sum
is 15, all the other answers are simply wrong.
This approach would imply an extreme and naïve form of realism foreign
to the way in which theology actually works . . .
If
our theological language is not like mathematical formulae, what is it
like? Unlike some today, I want to
insist that it is not purely subjective, like some forms of abstract art, but a
description of a reality that is out there such that one can meaningfully ask
whether or not it adequately describes that reality. But it does not describe it in the same way as, for example,
Pythagoras’s theorem, or Boyle’s law.
Lane then explains,
following Aquinas, that biblical language is analogical and, following Calvin,
an accommodation to our limitations.
Then he takes up the non-technical nature of biblical speech.
[T]he
Bible almost without exception does not use precise technical terms. Theology as an academic discipline does
define its terms, but theologians should not suppose the biblical writers were
bound by these precise definitions . . .
In
light of these observations we should compare our theologies not with
mathematical or scientific formulae but with models or maps of reality (Justification By Faith in
Catholic-Protestant Dialogue, 128ff).
That is to say,
orthodoxy can be expressed in more than one way. Different terminological systems may in fact be fully compatible
at a deeper level. Because all of our
theological language can at best approximate the truth, orthodoxy is a circle
rather than a pinpoint. In any
theological dispute, it is important to show why the differences are more than
merely verbal. In other words, one must
demonstrate that the differences are a matter of substance, not merely shape or
style. It is far too easy for people
with different paradigms to talk past one another – until they start yelling
“Heretic!” at one another. Those engaged in theological debate must
have the rare ability to climb outside their own paradigm, and compare it with
alternative frameworks.
I am not saying that the
differences between Webb and me, to take one example, are merely terminological. I think they are substantial, as I have
shown. However, I am saying that Webb has not understood my position because he has
not under stood my vocabulary on its own terms. He’s processed it through his own framework.
It would be nice if we all
could agree to a fixed set of terms and definitions, but I’m not sure such a
thing is possible. In large part, this
is because, as already noted, the Bible itself does not have a fixed set of
terms and definitions. Apparently God,
who knows far better than we do, did not want us to operate in this way. I’ve already noted some examples of the
slippage in terminology between the Bible and the Standards in passing, but
let’s take a couple more extended examples just to prove the point.
Suppose Fred is a new Christian. Fred reads his Bible every
day now. His pastor gives him a copy of the Westminster Confession.
He reads chapter 3 on election and learns that none of the elect can ever be
lost. The next day he's reading in Deuteronomy. And he reads again
and again how God chose Israel (e.g., Dt. 7). Fred deduces from that that
every member of Israel must have been saved eternally. That's what the Confession
said, right? But then Fred reads about Israelites rebelling and getting
judged. Now he has a real problem on his hands. How does he square
the Bible with the Confession? He goes to his pastor and asks, "Why
were these elect Israelites getting judged? I thought all the elect would
persevere to the end." His pastor has got some real explaining to
do. “Well, Fred, not all terms function in a fixed way, so their biblical
meaning is identical to their confessional meaning . . .” The pastor will end up sounding a lot like
the “Auburn Avenue” men, as he moves back and forth between Deuteronomic and
Westminsterian usages.
Or take the precious term “justification.” We all know the Shorter
Catechism definition. But should we just read that into the Bible at
every occurrence? I hope not, for it would bring heretical consequences.
After all, Paul wrote in 1 Tim. 3:16 that Jesus was “justified in the Spirit”
-- but surely Jesus did not need to have his sins forgiven! But,
then we should turn around and ask ourselves, “Why has our doctrine of
justification left 1 Tim. 3:16 on the cutting room floor?” If we really
want to do justice [pun intended] to the Bible's teaching on justification,
perhaps we need to make room for this text within
our doctrinal formulation instead of leaving it out. We need to
expand our doctrinal category to include more of what the Bible itself
puts under the rubric “justification.”
We also need to admit that justification can function in more ways than
the Catechism acknowledges.
These illustrations demonstrate why the charge of “novel
terminology” doesn't really hold much weight. There is no inspired
lexicon of theological terms for us to adhere to. There's no firmly
agreed upon terminology, even in the Reformed confessions. Every
theological speaker has to be understood in context. I think those who
have raced out to condemn the AAPC/FV advocates have not paid sufficient
attention to that context. Time and again, I've seen various deductions
drawn from things we’ve said that have no relation to what we actually
meant. And this is almost always due to reading a different meaning into
a particular term than the one we put there.
We may wish God had dropped a
theological lexicon down from heaven, but he hasn’t. Perhaps this is because he wants us to learn to love one another
and one of the tests of love is sympathetic interpretation (e.g., reading
another person on their own terms in the best possible light). Again, this isn’t to excuse any sloppiness
on my part, or others involved on “my side.” I'm very sorry we haven't
communicated our position more clearly at times and again plead for patience,
as we work towards coming up with more satisfying formulations. These are
difficult issues, and different paradigms, methodologies, emphases, etc. are at
work. Charity must prevail if the
discussion is to make progress.
Appendix 2: My Previous Qualifications on
Baptismal Regeneration
Rick Phillips, like Andy
Webb, has been an occasional sparring partner over sacramental issues. Phillips is a fine man, and I’m sure he is
an outstanding pastor and preacher. He
is gregarious, warm, and friendly. I’m
confident he really desires to understand where I’m coming from. Unfortunately, reaching that point has
proven to be a long, slow process.
Phillips, like Webb,
wants to resist the conclusion that baptism is a converting ordinance. His way of doing this is insisting that the
sacraments only grant “sanctifying grace,” appealing to WCF 14.1. To an extent, I have no problem with this:
I’ve said repeatedly that faith is necessary to receive what God offers in
baptism; in that sense, baptism doesn’t “convert.” At the same time, I think we
need to keep a few more details in mind.
For one thing, the Word is present not just in preaching, but also in
baptism (cf. “in the name of . . .” in WLC 165). No Word, no baptism.
Without the Word/promise, all you have is water on the head. The Word is integral to the administration
of the sacrament. The sacrament is only
a sacrament in conjunction with the Word.
Baptism never functions in a vacuum apart from the Word.
Does Phillips’ sharp
distinction between Word and sacrament really hold up? Not if we believe the Standards are
self-consistent. In WSC 88, no
distinction is made between which benefits of Christ are communicated via the
Word alone and which are communicated via the other outward means. WSC 89
and 91 use the same language to describe what God does in the Word and in the
sacraments: both are “effectual means of salvation.” The Catechism does not limit the function of baptism to an
“effectual means of sanctification,” and truncating the meaning of the term
“salvation” in WSC 91 to something considerably more limited than the same term
in WSC 89 would seem to be an illegitimate hermeneutical move. To take the argument a step further, in WSC
92, it seems impossible to limit the “benefits of the new covenant” applied to
believers in the sacraments to mere sanctificational grace. Philips has read a kind of soteriological
atomism into the Standards, breaking apart and fragmenting God’s unified work
of salvation into bits and pieces that can parceled out piecemeal in the
various means of grace. But such an
approach simply doesn’t work. Word and
sacrament always work together. This is
God’s economy of redemption. (See Anthony Hoekema’s Saved By Grace for a discussion of the importance of the union with
Christ motif in keeping the various facets of salvation together.)
Phillips wrote on blog,
in May, 2004, “I have had this experience with Rich Lusk's writings on
Theologia, where he makes strong unqualified statements about baptism as the
means of union with Christ. But just today in an email discussion raging among
the FV colloquium members (I think I have received over 300 emails in the last
few days in this discussion), Rich told me that he does not believe that
baptism conveys grace apart from faith. That was news to me -- welcome news that
I gratefully can acknowledge.” I do not
want to pick on Phillips here, since I consider him a friend. But I do want to use this as an occasion to
show how easy it is for us to talk past each other on these sorts of issues,
when others aren’t using our “buzzwords” or saying things in just the way we’re
used to. Some times things can be right
in front us for a long time before we begin to see them.
I replied to Phillips, “Never,
ever have I suggested that someone could be eternally saved by baptism
apart from a living faith. My recently stated views are not a new
development.” His email got to me
thinking: had I somehow not made the qualifications on baptismal efficacy
clear? So I went back to the first
public document on baptism I made available (written in 2001 and found here: http://www.hornes.org/theologia/content/rich_lusk/baptismal_efficacy_the_reformed_tradition_past_present_future.htm)
and I began to scan back through to see if I had just left out the
obvious. I wanted to know: Had I really left my statements
unqualified? Had I – subconsciously, perhaps
–left myself open to Phillips’ charge?
Keep in mind this essay
was written over a year before the controversy broke out over AAPC teaching (I
was on staff at Redeemer Presbyterian Church in Austin, TX at the time). Here are some excerpts from that essay, with
emphases added:
In
context, none of these passages [just surveyed] teach baptism automatically
guarantees salvation.
To
illustrate, consider what happens when a baptized person apostatizes (what we
might call the "negative" efficacy of baptism). John Murray helpfully
distinguished between the intended effect and the actual effect of a sacrament.
God's intention in baptism is always blessing. But an unfaithful response
on the part of the recipient will make the actual effect intensified curse.
Part
of the problem is the meaning of the term "regeneration," which has
been anything but stable in the development of Reformed theology . . .
The
problems, then, should be obvious. Not only is there a bifurcation between the
way “regeneration” is used in the Bible and dogmatic theology, but dogmaticians
themselves have not agreed on the proper theological definition of this key
term. So whether or not a given version
of "baptismal regeneration" is valid depends largely on which
theological vocabulary one has chosen to work with.
If regeneration is
taken in the Protestant scholastic sense, "baptismal regeneration" is
absurd, since it would mean that each and every person baptized was
eternally elect and eternally saved. Obviously,
the earlier Reformed theologians who spoke freely of "baptismal
regeneration" did not have this kind of monstrosity in mind. Instead, their understanding of regeneration was
something less specific, more open ended. Regeneration in this broader, generic
(shall we say "covenantal"?) sense can be found in passages like
Matthew 13:21-22 and Hebrews 6:7-8.
This,
then, is the point: God blesses us in baptism with new life, though
baptism itself does not guarantee perseverance. Thus, we must combine the waters of baptism with enduring faith (cf. 1 Cor. 10:1-12). If not, the heavenly waters God has
poured out upon us will drown us in a flood of judgment.
All
this is to show that the debate over "baptismal regeneration" is not
what it appears to be at first glance. Indeed, careful definition of terms is needed, lest we simply talk past each
other.
This
survey [of several Reformed theologians] is by no means comprehensive. Indeed,
we have just scratched the surface. It is true that many of the quotations
given above are qualified or nuanced
in various ways. These qualifiers are necessary to prevent misunderstanding.
[Then
I add in a footnote:] For example, none of the statements quoted above teach that someone is automatically
saved at baptism or that each and every
person baptized is eternally saved. Indeed, I know of no theologian in the
history of the church who has held such extreme views. Baptism is a true means
of grace, but that grace is
conditioned both by God's decree and our response of faithfulness.
There is no superstitious attribution of magical power to the waters of baptism. The
covenant, in short, is a saving (albeit
conditional) relationship. But
we must insist that God's intention in baptism is always to bless, even as he
sincerely offers salvation to all who hear the gospel preached. Those who reject the means of grace will only
have increased their punishment and have no one to blame but themselves.
Finally,
Leithart explains how his re-reformed view of baptism does not lead to presumption, but rather calls us to perseverance . . .
[Quoting
Leithart:] Baptism does not guarantee an eternal standing among the people of God,
for the baptized may be removed from the house and cut off from the Table. Yet,
baptism is not irrelevant to eternal salvation; though baptism ‘by itself’ does
not guarantee a standing, baptism never is ‘by itself’ but always a step on a
pathway. Perseverance to the end of the
pathway, the mark of eschatologically saving faith, is, as Augustine insisted,
a gift of grace, which, being grace, is gratuitously distributed as God pleases.
As the WSC teaches, baptism is not a mere picture, but an effectual means of
redemption. This is not to say baptism in isolation guarantees salvation,
but God never intended baptism to stand on its own. Rather, as
we mix the waters of baptism with the obedience of faith and life in the church among the covenant people, we find that God
has already given us and our children every blessing in Christ.
If
we may be permitted to return to our earlier discussion of the Westminster
Confession on baptism, we should note that the
divines stated not all receive the same degree of grace from baptism: Baptismal grace is conditioned
"according to the counsel of God's own will" (WCF 28.6).
The covenant is conditional, but the demands of the covenant are only met by
grace through faith. In
the case of baptism, we may say that receiving blessing [objectively] is
not conditional, but continuing in that blessing is. Hence, the continual exhortations in
Scripture for the people of God to persevere and live out their baptisms (or,
in the language of WLC, to “improve” their baptisms; cf. Rom. 6:1ff).
In
WSC 85, three things are
required of us for salvation: faith, repentance, and diligent use of the
outward means of grace. Note how the catechism's answer squares with Acts 2:14-47: The people believed
what Peter preached to them, repented of their sin, and were baptized.
This package of blessings is coordinated with entrance into the church
and is called salvation (2:47). The
catechism, following Acts 2, affirms the means of grace and church
membership are ordinarily necessary
to receive eternal life, not because
these means are efficacious in themselves to produce salvation, but because
Christ communicates, or bestows, his redemptive mercy through them.
Indeed, it in is the ordained practices of the church (Word, sacrament, prayer)
that Christ's promise to be with his people is most directly manifest (cf. Mt.
18:20).
I have to assume
Phillips read this paper since it is the one that has gotten the most feedback
and sets the context for my other sacramental writings on the Theologia website. He claims to have studied my material
thoroughly. Because he has criticized me
repeatedly and publicly, I have to assume that he was at least responsible
enough to read this paper.
Now: Have I made
unguarded statements? Of course, and I repent. Will I continue to
do so? I'm sure I will, unfortunately. But there is also a pretty
big context for understanding what those “problem statements” might mean -- and
not mean. Not only has Phillips had access to the paper quoted above, he
also spent time with me at the Auburn Avenue Colloquium in Ft. Lauderdale. Never once did I even hint at a belief that
the sacraments secured eternal glory apart from faith.
I can only conclude that
Phillips gross misrepresentation of me is due to some carelessness or
negligence on his part. From long
before the so-called Auburn Avenue controversy even began I had qualified my
statements about baptism’s saving efficacy in terms of both God’s decree and
our responsibility to exercise persevering faith. I’m even more careful to do so now.
Again, I know a lot of
things said above could be said better, but it's frustrating that I could put
in so many qualifications, only to have them ignored. It is hard for
me to resist the conclusion that most of the paper and ink – not mention
conference lecture slots – given over to discussing the “Auburn Avenue
Theology” have been wasted. This is so,
not because there is nothing here worth discussing – I think there is – but
because the critics have simply presented poorly informed caricatures, rather
than dealing with the substantive issues.
I wonder how much of
this sort of thing is going on with the other issues we're discussing besides
baptism. I know we're not going to
exegete all the passages the same way, agree on the details of (say) Calvin's
theology of baptism, infant faith, and so forth. I would love for
everyone to reach agreement on those issues. But I, for one, do not think
we have to agree on every detail of this stuff to work together in a Reformed
denomination in Christ's name or maintain our confessional integrity. We
share way too many of the same goals and concerns and beliefs to let these
kinds of things get in the way of that. Thankfully, Phillips more
recently seems to have acknowledged that my position on the sacraments is not
as problematic as he once thought; indeed, he has acknowledged that it is
virtually identical to other friends of his whom he considers to be orthodox.
Appendix 3: Baptismal Benefits and the Non-Elect
One sticking point in
the controversy over baptism concerns just what the non-elect person receives
in the rite. We’ve already seen that
there is one baptism, and in that
sense, what God offers to the elect person is also offered to the non-elect
person. The offer is sincere; the
divergence is found the responses on the part of those baptized (faith vs.
unbelief). Again, there is one baptism
with two possible responses.
But this shouldn’t be
taken to mean the unbeliever receivers nothing at the font. Objectively, his status is changed. No one, I hope, doubts that he becomes a
member of the visible church (WCF 25.2).
But we’ve also seen that that means he becomes a member of the kingdom,
house, and family of God. Surely those
are tremendous privileges! And, at the
last day, the reprobate will be accountable for rejecting these privileges and
judged accordingly. To whom much is
given, much will be required!
How can a non-elect
person receive these covenantal blessings?
Much here is mysterious.
However, I’d begin by pointing to two factors. The first is the “common operations” of the Spirit mentioned in
WCF 10.4. These “common operations” are
not “common grace (indeed, “common grace” did not become a stock phrase in
Reformed theology for some time after the Westminster Assembly), but
“covenantal grace.” In view is not
God’s indiscriminate grace, given to rank pagans and outsiders to the covenant;
rather the Confession is addressing blessings and benefits that both elect and
non-elect covenant members receive
within the communion of the church. A lot of passages
address just this concern (Mt. 18:32; Heb. 6:4-8; 2 Pt. 1:9; 2:1; etc.). This forces us to distinguish the kind of
temporary forgiveness,
enlightenment, and knowledge of the truth that future reprobates can possess,
from the irreversible, irrevocable way in which the elect possess these same
blessings. In the past, I have
suggested distinguishing the two in this way: the non-elect may receive these
things covenantally (with conditions implied), the elect receive them
decretally (with eternal security implied).
I’m not altogether sure that’s the best formulation; I intend to keep
working on the problem. At any rate, we
all must struggle to do justice to both differentiated and undifferentiated
grace; that is to say, we must do justice to both sides of WCF10.4: [A] the
non-elect never “truly” come to Christ (and “truly” must at the very least
include perseveringly to distinguish it from the way in which the non-elect
covenant member can come to Christ); and [B] the non-elect covenant member
really does experience operations of the Spirit, in common with the elect
person, though it might be difficult to stipulate just what all that can
include.
Second, I point to John
Murray’s perceptive statement on page 63 of volume 1 in his Collected Works: “Many benefits accrue to the non-elect from
the redemptive work of Christ.” Now, I
know some extreme critics of what is now known as the “Auburn Avenue Theology”
have gone so far as to criticize Murray for being unreformed at just this point. But I would beg to differ. Murray, as he did so often with a variety of
doctrines, especially towards the end of his career, is not rejecting the
Scriptural and Reformed teaching, but providing necessary nuance, grounded in
solid exegetical reflection. In this
case, Murray is not overthrowing the truth of limited atonement; rather, he’s
showing the full, biblical scope of Christ’s work, which includes “common
grace” (given to reprobates outside the covenant) and “covenantal grace” (given
in common to all covenant members, including those who will not finally
persevere).
The way these things are actually worked out within the framework of God’s
sovereign decree is a matter for discussion.
But it is basically an extra-confessional discussion. Or, perhaps,
a nuancing within the parameters of the Confession. After all, there is
no chapter in the Westminster Standards devoted to a doctrine of apostasy (or
even common grace); the Confession is almost single minded in its focus on the
salvation of elect individuals (all of which is fine and true, as far as it
goes), so these other matters are only touched upon tangentially. Once we
have affirmed the special blessings that only the elect-unto-glory receive
(election, regeneration, justification, sanctification, perseverance, etc., in
their narrow Westminsterian, ordo salutis
senses), there is a wide range of views one may take with regard to what
blessings reprobate persons may experience in the covenant. I do not
think we're
suggesting the non-elect receive anything that goes beyond what the confession
says about the visible church in WCF 25.2. Non-elect members of the church/covenant receive blessings commensurate
with their temporary membership in “the kingdom of the Lord Jesus Christ, the
house and family of God.” The blood
of Christ secures to the non-elect, non-covenant member the blessings of
“common grace;” the very fact that a sinner is allowed to live on this earth,
breathe God’s air, and enjoy the bounty of creation, is sheer grace, purchased
by Christ’s death. That same blood secures to the temporary covenant member
“common operations of the Spirit,” that is, certain blessings common to the
elect and non-elect within the covenant.
And most gloriously, that same blood secures to the elect everlasting
salvation and glory. Thus, the blood of
Christ is fully efficacious – but in accord with God’s design for humanity, not
necessarily in accord with neat and tidy constructions worked out by systematic
theologians. In this way, Christ is the
Savior of all men, especially them that believe (1 Tim. 4:10). These nuances preserve the core truths of
Calvinism (namely the absolute sovereignty of God, especially in salvation, and
the efficacy of Christ’s cross in accomplishing all that God intends and
designs), but also allow us to read the “hard texts” of the Bible without doing
exegetical gymnastics (e.g., 2 Pt. 1:9, 2:1).
Appendix 4:
Baptismal Efficacy and the Possibility of Apostasy in the New Covenant
We’ve already said quite
a bit about baptism in relation to covenant breaking. But here we want to tie those threads together and offer some
brief exegetical reflections. We’ve
already noted that baptismal grace is resistible; but how do we square the
Bible’s teaching on baptism’s objective efficacy with passages which describe
the dangers of falling away?
Baptism effects a change
in covenant status. Several familiar
illustrations have been used to demonstrate what this means and doesn’t
mean. For example, a wedding ceremony
effects a change in status for both the man and his bride. They go from two single individuals, to one
flesh. Through the ritual they are
granted all the rights, privileges, and responsibilities that come with the
marital state. And yet a wedding
ceremony does not guarantee a happy life together. They have to keep their vows and persevere in love. In the same way baptism does not guarantee
the one united (“married”) to Christ will be faithful. He is really
is joined to Christ, with all the attendant blessings and duties, but he
still must embrace that new identity in faith and live accordingly. Baptism, like a wedding, is objective in
what it effects (e.g., no on ever leaves a wedding ceremony wondering if they
bride and groom are really married), but requires subjective fidelity (e.g.,
people often do leave a wedding
ceremony wondering if the couple will stay together). Other illustrations could be multiplied to prove the point (e.g.,
ordination changes a man’s status in the covenant community, conferring certain
prerogatives and tasks, but does not mean he won’t become a wolf in sheep’s
clothing), but this should be plain enough.
Baptism admits one to the covenant; then one has to keep the covenant by
faith. Those who live by faith are
covenant breakers.
Some theologians try to
limit apostasy to the Old Covenant. I
would suggest they are simply not doing justice to the structure of biblical
covenants. The movement from Old to New
is not a movement from a breakable to an unbreakable covenant. The basic covenant paradigm and conditions
remain the same from age to age. What
changes is the magnitude of the blessings (for faithfulness) and curses (for
disobedience). In the New Covenant, our
salvation is far greater. That's why the curses are even greater for
apostates who violate the New Covenant and trample underfoot the blood of
Christ (Heb. 10:26ff). Apostasy is still a danger in the messianic age,
albeit one we need not live in constant fear of, providing we are trusting
Christ for the gift of perseverance.
The entire book of
Hebrews makes it very plain that the structure of the covenant is the same from
the old epoch to the new; what has been altered is the intensity and magnitude
of the blessings and curses for those who keep or break the covenant. Greater
blessings mean greater curses if those blessings are spurned. Of course, the fuller outpouring of the
Spirit also yields an expectation of a greater degree of faithfulness in the
new age. Nevertheless, it's rather
obvious from Hebrews that the New Covenant has not made apostasy an
impossibility. No where does the NT say that our salvation is greater
because we no longer have to worry about falling away or because perseverance
is automatically guaranteed to all covenant members. See, e.g., Heb. 2:1-4, which makes all these points in a very
tightly woven warning.
So how does this work
out? We see it again and again in the
NT Scriptures: Apostasy is still a possibility; hence, the warnings. They
are not rhetorical or hypothetical.
Some have said they are part of larger literary motif in which blessings
are ascribed to rebels, not really and truly, but reproachfully and ironically. That simply doesn’t work, at least not in
Hebrews. For example, Hebrews never
calls on its readers to introspect to see if they have real faith, or have
really come to Christ. It simply calls them to persevere, to continue on
as they began. But if some of the readers are being addressed ironically
and reproachfully, because they haven't really received any of those blessings,
then how could they be called to persevere? They'd be in need of
conversion, not perseverance. The ironic reading just doesn't work; it
doesn't fit with the pastoral strategy of Hebrews.
2 Peter is also relevant
since it deal quite extensively with these issues. Along with Hebrews, it is the “epistle of apostasy.” I have not studied 2 Peter extensively, so I
can only offer tentative thoughts here.
There are 2 major issues to consider: [1] the potential apostasy of
the Christian believers Peter addresses as “called and chosen”; and [2] the
actual apostasy of the false prophets, described by Peter as having lost
various blessings. Let’s unpack everything that seems to be going here.
The content the terms
“called” and “chosen” (1:10) does not match up in this context with the meaning
of those terms in standard Reformed theology. Since Peter is addressing
the church as a new Israel (see his first epistle especially, but the same
theology permeates 2 Pt.), it is at least plausible that terms such as
“calling,” “election,” and “salvation” are functioning for the visible church
as they did for old covenant Israel (e.g. Dt. 7). (This might also explain
why “calling” precedes “election” in Peter's description.) Israel was
called, chosen, saved, etc., and yet still vulnerable to apostasy (cf. e.g., Heb.
3-4, Jude 5, 1 Cor. 10, etc.). The way Peter addresses those he refers to
as “called” and “elect” seems to leave open the possibility that they might not
make these blessings sure by adding virute upon virute, resulting in their
stumbling to destruction (1:5ff). Peter’s logic of election lines up with
Paul’s in Col. 3:12: election is not so much used as the basis for eternal
security, but as the basis of a call to sustained and obedient perseverance in
the faith. This also seems to make
sense of the “if” clauses in verses 8 and 10 of chapter 1 in 2 Pt., especially
when read in conjunction with the warning in verse 9. Verse 11 looks
ahead to their final eschatological salvation as something they will enter into
in the future if they
persevere. Hence, Peter gives them reminders, so they will keep pressing
on (v. 12). He doesn't suggest that if they stumble, they were never
really walking in the first place.
In 2:1, I would suggest
the pattern of “redeemed by the Lord, then denying him” is simply an
intensified, eschatologized replication of Israel's exodus (“redemption” is an
exodus term after all), followed by her rejection of the Lord in the
wilderness. I have never been satisfied with the suggestion of some
(e.g., John Owen) that the false teachers merely professed to have been bought by the Lord, when in reality they
were not. That inserts all kinds of
ideas into the text from the outside; there is no hint of that sort of notion
in the Greek. Instead, we should rely
on wider biblical-theological patterns of thought to guide our exegesis. To wit: Jesus exodused the people (Lk. 9) in
his cross; many who were “redeemed” then rejected him. This fits with the
recurrent NT theme that Christians from 30-70 AD (and beyond, in several
senses) were like that generation of Israelites, in danger of perishing in the
wilderness as they trekked on their way to the promised land of the new
covenant in its fullness (cf. 2 Pt. 3; 1 Cor. 10; Heb. 3-4). Per John
Murray, cited above, this view does not negate the validity of an effective
atonement. Those who apostatize
received exactly what God wanted them to receive from the cross of Christ.
But more importantly,
another way to resolve the “apparent contradiction” between called/chosen and
potentially falling away, is to bring in the factor of time. There is simply nothing contradictory in saying a
person was “cleansed” at time A because he exercised some kind of faith, and
then lost (“forgot”) that blessing later when he turned away from God at time
B. This gets us into the issue of God's involvement in history, his
responsiveness to his creatures' actions, and the way in which he can “treat”
future apostates as sons for a season. Calvinists have not always done
justice to these matters, but we simply must deal with the reality of God’s
temporal action.[15] I think
this is the best way to read the passage. The rest of 2 Pt. makes the
case even more evident.
2 Pt. 2:20 is really a
summary of what happens to those who apostatize. While each phrase could
be unpacked, the key is “the latter end is worse for them than the beginning.”
Peter sees apostasy as a three chapter story, with a “beginning,” a middle, and
a “latter end.” Every apostate passes through these phases. In
the middle phase he really
experiences all the blessings ascribed to him throughout this passage: called,
redeemed, escaped, knowledge of Jesus, etc. In the latter phase, he really loses these blessings. If
the blessings were just attributed to him in an ironic way, nothing would have
been lost. The last state would not be worse than the first; it would be
identical to the first. The grounds for harsher judgment would
be removed since no grace was really received and then spurned. For
more scholastric Calvinists, the dynamics of the “story” of apostasy that Peter
tells are lost; apostasy becomes much more static and less narratival. (Note that Jude 12 makes the same
point. Apostates are "twice dead." But this means three
phases: spiritually dead, alive, dead again.)
2 Pt. 2:4 is also
telling, since the fall of the angels is given as a warning to those in the
church who might apostatize. I am not at all certain of Peter’s meaning
here, but for the sake of the argument, assume that he has in view angelic
beings.[16]
Surely no one doubts the real
blessedness of the angels prior to their apostasy. Calvin’s French
Reformed Confession (chapter 7) even indicates that the unfallen angels stood
faithfully by grace – which means
fallen angels have fallen from grace! But
Peter seems to be using the paradigm of angelic apostasy as a model for human
apostasy, for the “falling away” of the false teachers. In other words,
the angels were “cast down” from a high position; the same happens to
those humans who apostatize from covenant grace. In neither case are
blessings being ascribed solely in an ironic, mocking, sarcastic kind of
way. That just doesn't fit the way the passage actually functions.
The warnings do not make sense if they are read as saying, “If you apostatize,
you never had all the blessings you thought you had.”
Again, I offer this
tentaively since I still haven't studied the 2 Pt. in great detail. But
it makes sense to me, better sense than other readings which make the blessings
only apparent, or only a matter of rhetoric. To be sure, I do see a “rhetoric
of reproach” in the Bible; I just think it's misapplied here. And I do
think that both perseverance for the individually elect as well the apostasy of
some covenant members are undergirded by the sovereign plan of God. The
blessings ascribed to apostates in 2 Pt. would fall under those “common
operations” that may belong to all members of “the kingdom of the Lord Jesus
Christ and the house and family of God.”
To return to our earlier
point, the WCF itself acknowledges "undifferentiated blessings" in
WCF 10.4. There are “common operations of the Spirit.” That is,
there are blessings of the Spirit that are undifferentiated because they are
common to all covenant members, both those who will persevere and those who
won't. Of course, 10.4 then goes on to make a differentiation: those who
don't persevere “never truly come unto Christ” because coming “truly” includes
coming “perseveringly.” In this way our confession does justice both to
passages which describe undifferentiated grace (e.g., Heb. 6, 2 Pt. 1-2), as
well as differentiated grace (Jn. 6). If the story of an apostate is read
from front to back, he shares for a season undifferentiated blessings with
those who persevere. But if his story is read from back to front, we can
say there was differentiation all along the way. Of course,
God engages both perspectives because he is both the transcendent Lord of
over history, having planned and decreed all things, and immanently involved
within history, as a responsive agent.
[1] Andy has made his paper available to his email
discussion group, the Warfield List.
The archives are public. His
essay is available at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/bbwarfield/message/17337. The paper was originally going to be an
address, but Andy did not get to give it.
[2] I have various essays on the sacraments
available at http://www.hornes.org/theologia/content/cat_sacraments.htm. Webb deals with others besides me, and I
will not pretend to be a representative of anyone else. Because Webb (briefly) singles out my
teaching, I will compare his criticisms with what I have actually taught. Hopefully this is an opportunity to move the
debate forward.
[3] That isn’t to say the “new creation” is limited
to the church, of course. The center of
this new creation is the church; the ekklesia
may be regarded as the visible form of the new creation in the world. But like the “kingdom of God” theme in
Scripture, the “new creation”/”regeneration” theme is not confined to the
church as an institution, but it is rooted in that institution.
[4] In Mt.
19:28, Jesus speaks of the regeneration. This is interesting since the term
“regeneration” was best known from Stoic philosophy, which taught eternally
recurring cycles of regeneration in repeated world conflagrations. Jesus speaks of a definite, singular
regeneration event. In other words, he
has a linear view of time/history, and sees “the regeneration” as the climax of
everything.
[5] See my discussion in the essay “Baptismal
Efficacy and the Reformed Tradition: Past, Present, and Future,“ available
at
http://www.hornes.org/theologia/content/rich_lusk/baptismal_efficacy_the_reformed_tradition_past_present_future.htm.
[6] A more complete, nuanced discussion of
“regeneration” language in church history may be found in Ray Sutton’s book Signed, Sealed, and Delivered.
[7] The WCF simply offers a tautology: elect infants
dying in infancy will be saved (10.3).
But anyone dying at any age will be saved if they’re elect. In terms of Westminster’s definition, the
elect just are those God has chosen for salvation (3.4).
[8] This was the view of Canons of Dordt: “Since we
must make judgments about God's will from his Word, which testifies that the
children of believers are holy, not by nature but by virtue of the gracious
covenant in which they together with their parents are included, godly parents
ought not to doubt the election and salvation of their children whom God calls
out of this life in infancy.”
[9] He probably has popularized distortions of Roman
Catholic teaching are in view.
[10] Both men believed in the objective efficacy of
baptism, and stated that faith was necessary to receive what God offers in the
sacrament. Both held to the
completeness of baptism, and the enduring power of baptism, making penance
unnecessary as a remedy for post-baptismal sin. Unlike the doctrine of the real presence in the Lord’s Supper,
baptismal efficacy was never a matter of polemics between Luther and Calvin. Calvin emphasized election more than Luther did,
whereas Luther emphasized more what every baptized person receives, not just
the elect. Also, Calvin emphasized the
conditionality and obligation of baptism more than Luther did, largely because
he more fully developed a theology of the covenant. But in the end, these differences generally amount to matters of
pastoral style and emphasis, not theological substance.
[11] Mounds of additional evidence could be marshaled
for what I’ve sketched out here. See,
e.g., Joel Garver’s essay, “The Early Scots Reformed on Baptism,” available at
http://www.lasalle.edu/~garver/scotbapt.htm.
[12] See my biblical-theological essay, “Jesus’
Baptism: Fount of Life” available at
http://www.hornes.org/theologia/content/rich_lusk/jesus_baptism_the_fount_of_life.htm.
[13] Rayburn has worked out this principle more
consistently than Hodge in that he holds to covenant communion (or
paedocommunion).
[14] For a brief overview of “covenant nurture,” see
my essay, “Paedobaptism and Baptismal Efficacy: Historic Trends and Current
Controversies,” in The Federal Vision,
edited by Duane Garner and Steve Wilkins, 107-113.
[15] See my Feb. 2, 2004 PM sermon at AAPC on Jonah
3, “Does God Change His Mind? A Complex Providence?” for a more detailed
discussion.