Are Baptists An Extinct People?

Being a church pastor, cemented behind a pulpit every Sunday, has advantages. For example, my family enjoys eating, and my salary ensures they continue enjoying that bit of pleasure.

The downside is that I've become an island unto myself, unaware of what other faith communities are doing. This results in late-night doom scrolling, where I stalk churches like some people do former significant others on social media.

Because of this, I'm now somewhat of a church website connoisseur. Able to sift past the crucial yet repetitive information like a community's location, service times, worship style, and special events, I instead hone in on the details that speak volumes but aren't as apparent to the untrained eye and ear.

These particulars can be discovered in vision statements, sermon clips, and staff profiles.

Such as a church's view of scripture. Is it inerrant, inspired, or authoritative? Do they believe women can be ministers, or are they called "directors?" Does everyone look the same? Is there any indication of diversity? Be it generationally, ethically, or economically? Is the church inclusive or exclusive? LGBT affirming or not? Is the church progressive or conservative? Believe it or not, some churches have no problem naming this fact, both theologically and politically. Did their pastor go to seminary? If so, which one? Yale Divinity School and The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary are two very different schools of thought that attract two very different types of seminarians.

Finally, there is the "What We Believe" page. Here, one might find a church's stances on the role of God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit, their interpretation of salvation, the role of the church in the world, and Christian discipleship. This is standard, the equivalent of vanilla ice cream in a Baskin Robbins.

But what if a faith community went in another direction. What if they shared a completely different take on what it means to be part of their fellowship?

I thought of this recently after rereading Baptist iconoclast Will D. Campbell’s fictional work, The Glad River. The story involves three men: Kingston Smylie, Fordache Arceneau, and Doops Momber. Their lives are brought together after they are drafted to serve in WWII. They quickly form a lifelong friendship, bonding over what makes them outcasts. Kingston's real father wasn't white like his mother. Fordache is Cajun, and Doops is from an upstanding Baptist family but refuses to get baptized. His mother continues to pressure him about it before and after the war. Doops gives vague responses about why he hasn't been and doesn't see it happening any time soon.

That is until the end of the book. Sitting on the witness stand during the murder trial involving Fordache, Doops gives the reader his most clear answer as to why.

During the scene, Doops is questioned about a fictional story he wrote while recovering from illness in an army hospital. He writes about a group of Christians living in Holland during the early 16th century. Doops says he was inspired by a book entitled Martyrs Mirrors, which a pastor gave him when he was a young boy. His character is being questioned by the prosecuting attorney, and the subject of his lack of baptism comes up. When Doops's counsel has the chance to cross-examine his client, the following conversation ensues;

“What did the people you wrote about believe?” he said again. “What made them different?”

“They did not believe in baptizing infants. And because they did not believe in taking human life, would not go to war. They did not believe in the death penalty so they were not allowed to serve on juries. They believed the Church and the State should be completely separate. They would not swear, because they understood the scripture to forbid it. They led simple lives, did not engage in politics. And some of them, a few of them, practiced community of goods.”

“And what exactly was that? 'Community of goods'?”

“They had a common treasury. Property and possessions were owned by the community, not the individuals. It was the only way they could survive in times of persecution.”

At the end of the questioning, Doops gives his reason for not being baptized.

“Mr. Momber, you admired the people you wrote about, didn't you?”

“Yes, sir. I still do.”

“Do you know anybody like that today? Like they were?

“No, sir. Not so far.”

“And if you found someone like they were, would you ask them to baptize you?”

“Yes, sir.”

Doops describes here a sect of Christians existing after the Reformation. These believers were offshoots of the Reformed and Lutheran Protestants. They are referred to as Anabaptists or Re-baptizers, a name given to them by their critics. These men and women took the teachings of those like Martin Luther and Ulrich Zwingli and “radicalized” them. Names such as Conrad Gerbels, Jacob Hutter, and Menno Simons are counted among the founders of the Hutterrites, Mennonites, Amish, and the Swiss Brethren. While significance and contribution are often debated, the teachings of these early leaders played a role in the development of the people who now identify as Baptists. People like me.

As a Baptist, I believe these people are the for-bearers of my faith, and from what I can tell, Campbell and his fictional character, Doops, thought the same. Doops' reluctance to be baptized was because he’d seen a severed connection of those in his community who claimed to be Baptist but did little to resemble the individuals who birthed his branch of the Christian faith. He goes as far as to confess that Baptists are an extinct people.

This made me wonder, what would happen if a church website included a Statements of Beliefs in close line with early Baptists? Imagine reading this on a church sign,

We here at First Baptist Church Small Town, USA, believe…

Infants are not to be baptized.

We do not believe in taking human life.

We will not go to war for this country or any country.

We do not believe or support the death penalty.

We will not swear or serve on juries.

We believe in the complete separation of Church and State.

We believe in a community of goods.

A church with this on its website might not get a lot of takers, but then again, maybe they would. The Baptist faith has gone through many changes attributed to culture and modern interpretations of scripture. I often hear older generations say, “if only we could do it like we did it back then,” or echo the old Gospel hymn, "Give me that old-time religion, it's good enough for me." I dare say the “old-time religion” they refer to looks anything like the early Baptist faith.

Despite recent declines, Baptists represent the largest Protestant denomination in the United States. We have come a long way in some areas and traveled less in others. For people who do not claim creeds, we have become creedal in our understanding of traditions. We point to our heritage as validation of our beliefs while leaving behind some of the tenets that made our faith uniquely profound. A kind of faith that causes people to rebel against the injustices of a corrupt world in hopes of living life for a liberating God.

Oh, spoiler alert. Doops does get dipped by the end of the story. He finds someone who reminds him of the people he respected and admired for their ability to live out their faith. It turns out Baptists weren't extinct after all; they just weren't in the churches anymore.

Like Doops, I mean to find a few real Baptists in this world. I don't believe they're extinct.

Hopefully, I'll mess around and become one in the process.

Justin Cox

Justin Cox is an ordained minister, late-night baker, and displaced Southerner. He's a regular columnist at Baptist News Global, Good Faith Media, and The Christian Citizen, where his writing often engages the intersectionality of food and faith. He currently resides in New England with his family. He creates different forms of disruption at blacksheepbaptist.com

https://www.blacksheepbaptist.com/
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