Baptists: When I first started sharing some posts that I had written, I was approached by a “Old School” Baptist friend, who has constructed an entire empire around the Old School Baptists. He wanted me to join their club, and consider writing articles for them. I thankfully declined, and one of my reasons was the fact that I never once in my life considered myself a Baptist even though I hold to the practice of believer’s baptism. I remember how shocked he was, when he wrote back, and sort of demanded that I tell him what I was if I wasn’t a Baptist?
It has always struck me as ironic that the Baptists, while protesting against Rome’s claim to apostolic succession, have built a similar mythology for themselves. What Rome claimed by succession, the Baptists have claimed by reinvention. Any movement can dig through history and find kindred spirits to justify its existence, but that is not apostolic continuity, it’s more like denominational archaeology. Their so-called “trail of blood” is supposed to trace an unbroken lineage of true churches from the apostles to the present day, yet the trail often ends where it begins, with themselves; it’s more like a genealogy of self-validation. Every “sect” can construct a pedigree if it starts by defining the true church as those who think like it does. But such circular reasoning proves nothing; it only reveals how far the human heart will go to secure a sense of exclusivity. How easily men mistake the history of their particular denomination for the history of the church! The true lineage of the church is not traced through outward succession, but through the living faith of those who are joined to Christ, whether found in caves, cathedrals, or small gospel meetings.
Paul said, “If ye be Christ’s, then are ye Abraham’s seed.” That is the only lineage that matters. Still, I understand why people cling to a name or a tradition; let’s face it, it just feels good to belong somewhere, to have a history, to find our identity in a denomination, a heritage, or a confession. There’s a sense of safety in saying, “I am one of them.” It feels reassuring to trace our faith through a recognizable stream of history, or to wear a label that tells the world where we stand. There’s nothing inherently wrong in that, so long as we don’t mistake it for the ground of our standing before God. But when those things begin to define us, (the Baptist Standard Bearer folks would be a perfect example,) more than “the gospel of the grace of God” we risk losing sight of Christ. Whatever does not lead us nearer to Christ, we should have no wish to defend, and whatever seeks to draw lines where God has not, should perhaps be left behind? At the end of the day, it’s not the name over the door that unites us, but the “name” written upon our hearts. Revelation 3:12. MPJ