Sylvan Manor

The third chapter of the book, written by Thomas Schreiner, is helpful in a number of ways. As with the previous two chapters, he provides a detailed overview of the biblical material on baptism, showing in several different ways that there is a clear picture of baptism being “an initiation rite for believers.” He does this by surveying the biblical material in a number of different categories – passages that describe the centrality of baptism, passages that unfold in more detail a theology of baptism, and passages that address the problem of overestimating baptism. Throughout the discussion, Schreiner (as with the other contributors, though more clearly and compellingly) demonstrates a love for the biblical text and a high view of baptism as being deeply important for the Christian life.

At a few places in the biblical survey, Schreiner notes texts that are relevant to the question of paedobaptism. In dealing with them, he demonstrates a refreshing sensitivity to the wider hermeneutical issues that are involved.  While the case he makes is not ultimately convincing, it serves to show the complexity of the issues involved, helping to move us beyond the demand for mere proof texting. These arguments come together in the last few pages of the chapter, where Schreiner summarizes the implications of his survey for the question of paedobaptism.

First, Schreiner believes that the use of baptism as an initiatory rite, closely associated with faith and conversion, precludes infant baptism. “We have, then, compelling grounds to reject infant baptism” (92). For Schreiner, the associating of the Spirit and faith with baptism serves as compelling grounds, because “It is difficult to see how the reception of the Spirit could be predicated of infants since the Spirit is received by faith” (93). But paedobaptism does not separate baptism from faith, for it embraces the biblical pattern (Old Testament and New) of God sealing his promises sacramentally, promises that must be received by faith. Indeed, Schreiner acknowledges that the paedobaptist argument is strong on this point, insofar as it emphasizes the objective priority of God’s grace. Nevertheless, his claim is that the baptist does a better job of holding together the objective promise and the subjective response. But he fails to see (or acknowledge) that the paedobaptist can make the same claim in response. It is the baptist who makes the subjective response ultimate, while it is the paedobaptist who keeps the sovereign promise of God up front, with our response of faith being in response to what God has already promised.

Second, Schreiner makes an argument from silence: if baptism has replaced circumcision, as the Reformed view claims, then why don’t we ever find Paul using that reality as an argument against the continuation of circumcision? In Galatians, for example, why doesn’t Paul simply come out and say, “baptism replaces circumcision”? This argument from silence is important. There’s a bit of irony here, since an earlier chapter dismisses the Reformed argument form silence (Where does the New Testament ever say children are excluded from the covenant now?) Nevertheless, this is an important argument to which we need to respond. There are several avenues of response, especially regarding the character of the time before 70 AD.

But the most important response is to point to Colossians 2:12, where Paul argues that Gentile Christians need not be circumcised, because they have received spiritual circumcision, having been baptized into Christ. Schreiner’s argument from silence only works because he has already dismissed this passage as being irrelevant. He summarizes his case this way:

“The alleged parallel [between circumcision and baptism] does not stand, however, because the connection is between baptism and spiritual circumcision, not physical circumcision. Hence, baptism is reserved, according to the argument of Colossians, for those with regenerate hearts” (95).

This strikes me as a rather clear case of special pleading. We offer a clear example of baptism taking the place of circumcision, and we are told “well, that’s spiritual circumcision.” Let’s look at the passage in context, as this is a locus classicus for the Reformed approach:

9. See to it that no one takes you captive by philosophy and empty deceit, according to human tradition, according to the elemental spirits of the world, and not according to Christ.  For in him the whole fullness of deity dwells bodily, 10. and you have been filled in him, who is the head of all rule and authority. 11.  In him also you were circumcised with a circumcision made without hands, by putting off the body of the flesh, by the circumcision of Christ, 12. having been buried with him in baptism, in which you were also raised with him through faith in the powerful working of God, who raised him from the dead. (Colossians 2:9-12)

Paul is writing to Gentile Christians who are being tempted to think that Christ is not enough, and that they need to submit themselves to some form of Judaism (v. 9). His fundamental argument is that Jesus is enough (vv. 9b-10), and that as believers, they share in Christ and all his benefits (vv. 11-12). They have already received “a circumcision made without hands,” that is, spiritual circumcision, “the circumcision of Christ.” They have already received the reality that circumcision was always about, from the very beginning. And how do they know they have received the spiritual reality that circumcision was always about? They have “been buried with [Christ] in baptism.”

Schreiner thinks that the involvement of spiritual circumcision somehow makes this verse irrelevant to the question of baptism replacing physical circumcision. But physical circumcision is precisely the issue at hand. And Paul’s argument is very clear: you don’t need to be circumcised, because you have been baptized; and having been baptized, you have received all that circumcision always signified and sealed – “a circumcision made without hands.”

The argument from silence fails, because there is no silence. When Paul was confronted with Gentile Christians who were tempted to be circumcised, he told them it wasn’t necessary because they had been baptized. How could he be any more clear? Baptism has taken the place of circumcision, sealing the same promises for the covenant people.

The argument, of course, isn’t that simple, since the Baptist case requires emphasizing the discontinuity between the Old and New Testaments when it comes to the people of God. And that is Schreiner’s third main argument: “It is precisely here that the difference between the old covenant and the new shines forth. In the new covenant everyone knows the Lord (Jer. 31:34), but in the old covenant physical circumcision did not necessarily translate into spiritual circumcision of the heart” (94).

The problem with this argument is that it gets both the old and new covenants wrong. In the old covenant, faith and grateful obedience was required in response to God’s promises. Indeed, for new converts, one had to profess faith before being received into the covenant people (consider Rahab, for example). And there were numerous covenant warnings for those who did not live by faith. Circumcision require faith and grateful obedience as the fruit of faith.

To be sure, Jeremiah 31 promised a time of greater faithfulness; but even on the reading wherein this speaks of a day when there are no hypocrites, surely this isn’t realized until the new creation. Here Schreiner gets the new covenant wrong. When he says “in the old covenant physical circumcision did not necessarily translate into spiritual circumcision of the heart,” he is presumably implying that this disconnect does not obtain in the new covenant. But does Schreiner really want to claim that in baptist churches baptism necessarily corresponds to true faith and regeneration? The New Testament assumes, time and again, that the church of Jesus Christ is a mixed company. There is warning after warning of the danger of apostasy and covenant rebellion (Romans 10 and 11, the entire book of Hebrews, the letters to the seven churches in Revelation, just to name a few examples). The baptist argument depends on this discontinuity, but the evidence for it simply doesn’t hold up.

Schreiner’s chapter is the best of the three biblical survey chapters, treating the paedobaptist position with the most nuance, and providing the most engagement with the deeper hermeneutical issues. But, despite Schreiner’s conclusive language of “compelling evidence” to reject infant baptism, his arguments still point to the need for a fuller doctrinal discussion of continuity between the covenants, and the nature of the covenant of grace in the New Testament church. I’m looking forward to engaging precisely those questions in the next chapter.

The survey of baptism in Luke-Acts, offered by Robert H. Stein in chapter 2, is marked by the same strengths and weaknesses of the previous chapter. The survey is thorough and valuable, going to great lengths to show the intimate connections among baptism, faith, repentance, and the Holy Spirit. Stein summarizes his thorough survey in this way: “…repentance, faith, baptism, and the reception of the Spirit are integrally related components in the conversion-initiatory rite of water baptism” (41). There is very little of anything controversial here, and all participants in the debate would agree on this nexus as Stein outlines the biblical material.

Indeed, there is little mention of an argument for believer’s baptism except for, first, the apparent assumption that this nexus precludes infant baptism (something that still needs to be argued), and a brief discussion of household baptisms at the end of the chapter. According to Stein, the household baptisms are important, because the “assumption that infants were part of Cornelius’s household and that they were also baptized is often put forward by advocates of infant baptism.” Stein then argues rather thoroughly that it cannot be proven that infants were present; indeed, there are quite plausible readings on which there were no infants present. Besides the strangely repeated claim that “children” need not include “infants” (despite the fact that neither word is used in the accounts of household baptisms), Stein’s argument goes no further.

The problem here is that Stein’s initial claim – that paedobaptism depends on infants being present in the households – neglects the covenantal structure of the Reformed position. The point is not that infants must have been present; rather, the point is that the book of Acts clearly uses the language of household, and the language of household is deeply rooted in the Old Testament practice of believers and their children being included in the covenant community. Stein’s entire discussions pertains to the question of who were the members of the household, while missing the most important point of all: that the New Testament continues the Old Testament pattern of receiving converts as households.

This is perhaps the most egregious example: “It is highly selective, on the one hand, to include infants in the baptism of the ‘entire family’ of the jailor and then, on the other hand, to exclude them from the ‘entire family’ that believers and rejoices in their new faith (16:34)” (63). But infants need not be included or excluded in either case. The point is that, in the biblical way of speaking, it is an “entire family” that is baptized, as well as an “entire family” who has faith and rejoices in that faith. The point is not that infants were included. Even if there were no infants in the household, the point stands: the Old Testament pattern of God working via households continues in the New Testament.

Andreas J. Kostenberger opens the biblical studies section of the book by providing a survey of baptism in the gospels (subsequent chapters will offer surveys of Acts and the epistles). The survey is concise but thorough, offering a helpful overview of John’s baptism, Jesus’ baptism, and the great commission. The latter point is where a discussion of believer’s baptism in particular enters the picture.

Kostenberger treats Matthew 28 as an argument for believer’s baptism, asserting that Jesus’ command “clearly presupposes” that individuals must consciously choose to be baptized. He engages a discussion by D. M. Doriani of the passage in The Case for Covenantal Infant Baptism in which Doriani explains how the great commission fits within a covenantal framework. In response, Kostenberger argues that a case for infant baptism cannot be based on Matthew 28. To be sure, he makes that case rather persuasively. The problem is that I’m not aware of any paedobaptists who think Matthew 28 is, as an isolated proof text, the basis for their view. Kostenberger ably shows that believer’s baptism is consistent with Matthew 28, but this is a claim that nobody disputes.

Beyond that basic point, Kostenberger’s arguments ignore the wider covenantal framework, rooted in the Old Testament, upon which Reformed paedobaptism depends. As I glance over the book, I’m confident that the wider framework will be addressed later, but it’s a bit perplexing as to why Matthew 28 is handled so simplistically at this point. It would have been better, it seems to me, simply to survey the biblical material, mentioning how both perspectives make use of it, and pointing out the need for a wider theological discussion.

Kostenberger wraps up his survey with a concluding statement of what he believes follows from his overview of the biblical material: “First, the rite of baptism is designed for believers who have repented of their sin and have put their faith in God and in his Christ.” The problem with this assertion is that it doesn’t move the discussion forward. Everyone agrees that the gospels are primarily addressing new converts, and that in the case of new converts, one must believe and profess faith before being baptized. Kostenberger even grants that Doriani makes precisely this concession. Doriani makes this concession, because it isn’t particularly relevant to the debate.

Everyone agrees that new converts must first profess faith before being baptized. Indeed, this was the case in the Old Testament with regard to circumcision as well. The question at hand is whether or not the believer’s household would also be admitted into the covenant along with him. This was the case throughout the Old Testament. Where is the evidence in the gospels that this has changed? Kostenberger confidently asserts: “However, the Gospels provide no evidence or support for the baptism of infants.” But this assertion ignores the structure of the argument for paedobaptism. The gospels are silent on the question, because the question wasn’t being asked. It wasn’t being asked, because God had already revealed clearly, from the beginning, that children were included in the covenant along with their parents.  To be sure, this is an argument from silence of sorts; but the silence is deafening. And here a foundational problem with the argument of the book is already evident: it begins with the gospels, assuming what needs to be proven, assuming that the Old Testament pattern can be ignored while seeking a proof text in the Gospels. There’s no need to go to such great lengths to show that there is no New Testament proof text; paedobaptists have never claimed there is one. That silence proves nothing one way or the other. Again, a wider biblical-theological discussion is essential.

For the next week or so, I will be blogging a chapter by-chapter review of Believer’s Baptism: Sign of the New Covenant in Christ, Thomas R. Schreiner and Shawn D. Wright, eds.

The introduction provides a helpful overview of the book, and I am thankful for the editors’ work in compiling this volume. But before getting to the overview, the introduction provides something of a discouraging glimpse at the arguments to come. As I begin this book, my desire is for the arguments to make me think twice, to cause me to look at the case for believer’s baptism from new and fresh angles. But the introduction fails to strike a tone of charity and understanding. Instead, it states the paedobaptist position in the worst possible light, and proceeds to argue against it with little charity or nuance. If the goal is simply to rally the base, then I suppose this is okay. But my hope is that the book will do more than preach to the choir.

Let me put it this way: if the paedobaptist really affirmed what the introduction suggests, then I can’t imagine there would be too many folks holding the position.

As one example, consider this statement, found on the second page of the book:

“The fundamental teaching of the gospel is that human beings can be right with God only through faith in Jesus Christ (Rom. 5:1). Infant baptism compromises that teaching by counting infants as members of the church….”

The assertion that “infant baptism compromises [the fundamental teaching of the gospel]” is perhaps not the best way to begin an argument intended to persuade one’s opponent to give one a hearing. It would be helpful to acknowledge that paedobaptists also affirm that “human beings can be right with God only through faith in Jesus Christ,” and that the promises sealed by baptism must be received by faith. The paedobaptist also affirms an essential connection between baptism and faith – albeit in a different manner than the baptist. Moreover, the author should demonstrate at least an awareness that the paedobaptist does not view church membership as tantamount to being “right with God” in the way affirmed by the baptist. Perhaps this sort of nuance will be offered later. Aside from the occasional concession buried in a footnote, it’s certainly not offered in the introduction.

Not only is the paedobaptist position treated with little nuance, but the baptist position isn’t presented particularly clearly. For example, the author asserts the basic baptist argument that “the church of Jesus Christ is not a mixed community of believers and unbelievers” (3). He then acknowledges that the baptist can’t ultimately escape this reality, since not all who profess to believe are authentic believers. This is a weighty concession; but the author thinks he avoids its force by saying that the baptist doesn’t admit anyone to church membership without “trying to discern” whether he or she is truly saved. But that is, of course, the whole point: one cannot ultimately discern such a thing, whether you try really hard or not. And so one needs a theology of apostasy, covenant warnings, and church discipline – precisely the theology of Hebrews (chapters 2, 3, 5, 10, 12) that the author dismisses with little argument (4). The most astounding quote is this one, making an apparent argumentum ad absurdum with a citation, not from a paedobaptist polemicist, but from the book of Hebrews itself: “Now one can even be a partaker of the Holy Spirit (Heb. 6:4), and not belong to the elect.” Presumably the author wants to treat the warnings as purely hypothetical; and yet he has already conceded that the community of the church is, in fact, mixed with believers and unbelievers. Again, perhaps the stronger arguments are to come later, but I was expecting something a bit more winsome and appealing in the introduction.

I want to be careful here; it is entirely possible that I have misunderstood the purpose of the book, and that I’m unfairly expecting it to be addressing its opponents in a way that is intended to win a hearing in the introduction. Nevertheless, on page 7, the editors say regarding Reformed evangelical paedobaptist theology that “it is primarily this theology we are trying to correct in this book.” I’m trusting that this effort at correction will be fair and charitable. I’m eager to engage the arguments openly and honestly, and so I sincerely hope that the remainder of the book has far more nuance than the introduction.