Nary an Original Thought

Doug Wilson, on the Westminister Confession’s statement that our interest (i.e. stake) in Christ, along with the benefits thereby implied, is confirmed in the sacraments:

Some might say that if you have the faith, then that is sufficient–you can go off by yourself, you and your faith, and do all your confirming of interest away from God’s people. The bread and wine are entirely optional if faith is sufficient, right? But if God said to meet Him here in the bread and wine, how is it faith to try to meet Him somewhere else? Detaching faith from the instruments God has appointed is neither right nor safe.

Of course we know from Scripture that evangelical faith is the catalyst. When Namaan was told to wash in the Jordan, it would not have been appropriate for him to conclude that another river, or no river at all, would do just as well–even if he recognized that the Jordan was nothing in itself. In the same way, we insist on the potency of faith alone, which means that the faith must do something other than what unbelief would do.

Come, the bread and wine are here. Confirm your interest in Christ by partaking now, together with your brothers and sisters.

Yes, the efficacy of the ritual is wholly tied to the presence and application of faith. Without faith, the ritual becomes something else entirely different than the covenant confirming, spiritually edifying interaction that the Believer experiences. Even still, that is not to say that the ritual should be done away with or its importance lessened. Remember, Noah was saved by faith, AND by an ark.

Read the rest of Wilson’s piece here.

One of my favorite times of Sunday worship is when Pastor Stu leads us in a few simple, acapella worship songs while the elements are being distributed to the congregation. Hearing everyone’s voices ring out in worshipful unison seems like the closest thing to a heavenly celebration that we’ll taste around these parts. Sometimes I actually get goosebumps.

There are other Sundays when we don’t do this. Instead, an organist will typically play something slow and somber-sounding while we sit there waiting for the bread and the cup to come our way. I suppose that this is intended to be a time of reflection, to calculate one’s own sin and repent of it in preparation for receiving communion. On some level this seems appropriate, given the warnings to examine oneself so as to not eat the bread or drink the cup in an unworthy manner (1 Cor 11:27-32). However, at that point in the order of the worship service it seems out of place.

By the time we get to communion we’ve already had worshipful singing, personal and corporate confession of sins, the declaration of pardon, and teaching from the Word. We come to the table as people who have been forgiven by their Creator, and who have been ministered to by their Lord through his Word. The table is one of celebration. The blind can see and the deaf can hear, and tax collectors and “sinners” can now come to a feast provided by the Son of God, who calls us to join him in his “ministry of reconciliation” as he is “reconciling the world to himself” (2 Cor 5:11-21). It seems out of place to me at this point of communion with our Savior and within his Church to double back to the part where we feel really bad for being sinners. We already dealt with that half an hour ago, and if we truly believe all of this “as far as the east is from the west” business (Ps 103:11-12) we ought to be able to trust that the blood of Christ, the same shedding of which we remember in communion, was and is and will forever be sufficient to cover our sins.

I understand the impulse to go through a “no, Jesus, I really am sorry” routine before we approach his table. If we really are repentant people our sin will always be before us. But, I think it does some unintended damage to the power of the gospel when we feel the need to confess and re-confess the same sins, as if Jesus blood and righteousness can only cover them after a second pass. We need to trust in the power of Christ to proclaim our pardon once and for all, and then to live our lives as if we’ve really been forgiven. And what better way to begin living that way than by rejoicing in the powerful grace and mercy of God by singing his praises as we approach his table?

I found Jeff Meyers’ blog a few months back via the Presbyteer’s blogroll, and I’ve found his writing to be rather thought provoking. In the last three weeks, Jeff has written about everything from Harry Potter to the Fall of Satan to Jonathan Edwards’ “trinitarian speculation” on why the world was created.

As usual, his latest post got me thinking. Jeff maintains that infant baptism is “scandalous” among us Americans because of our one-man, one-vote mentality and our celebration of our individualistic freedoms. When we baptize our babies, God puts his mark on helpless, incapable creatures and claims them as his, without even a hint of consent from them or any respect for their rights as individuals. Jeff writes, “It is not a confession of what man has done or of the faith someone possess or of the experience that someone may have had. Infant Baptism is all about God in his Sovereign freedom acting upon a passive infant…. [Salvation] comes from above, like the sprinkling.”

That last line caught my attention. Does the method of baptism matter? I would say that, at the very least, the method has a great influence on the message that is communicated through baptism. Or, who it is that is doing the speaking.

The believer baptist camp depends on the method (i.e. immersion) of baptism for much of its derivative meaning. Baptism becomes an outward symbol of an inward experience that has already taken place, initiated by the convert. He descends into the water as a sign of being buried with Christ, and then is brought out of the water as a symbol of being raised to newness of life with Jesus. By performing this ritual, the convert confirms publicly that he has agreed to be saved. There may be a conversation here between him and God, but the convert is the one speaking the loudest, declaring “I belong to God” because of what I’ve already brought to the table (i.e. faith).

When water is sprinkled on the head of an infant, the child is passive. The water is poured from above, onto the child’s head. The baby goes nowhere and does nothing. He contributes nothing to the ritual, nor does he even consent to it. It is God who speaks, saying “This one is mine” as he places his mark on the child. For years to come we will hope and expect to see the child exhibit real and vibrant faith, but it is very clear who has initiated this relationship, and it isn’t the baby.

As I’ve said before, infant baptism isn’t just about baptism. There are several foundational questions we have to get right before we can get the right answer about who to baptize. The question, then, is this; do we initiate our own salvation by producing saving faith, which makes Christ’s death efficacious in our lives, that we would be raised with him? If so, baptism by immersion makes perfect sense. Or, do we receive the grace of God even when we are unable to choose to accept it for ourselves, bringing nothing to the table from within ourselves? If this is the case, then sprinkling from above makes perfect sense and gives God the glory as the one who speaks through baptism.