Reformed vs Southern Baptist: Altar calls

[This is the sixth article interacting with a series by Les Puryear — www.lesliepuryear.blogspot.com — regarding whether Southern Baptists can be Reformed]

Those who maintain that Southern Baptists cannot be Reformed utilize the latter’s caution about the use of “invitations”, “altar calls”, and the “sinner’s prayer” as proof positive. Good Southern Baptists, it is asserted, will do all of these, and more, in “leading a person to Christ.”

It is certainly true that we “persuade” men with the gospel, we “urge” men to be reconciled to God, and we make clear the urgency of the situation for those who hear the gospel, understand it, yet put off repentance and belief.

But this is not the same thing as concluding that the only way to persuade and urge men is to utilize the altar call. Nor is there any foundation for the assertion that a necessary and distinguishing feature of Southern Baptist practice is the invitation.

Reformed Baptists believe that the proclamation of the gospel IS the invitation, the expression of the good news IS the urgency: a preacher need not tack on to the end of his sermon non-biblical devices to CREATE them.

An additional problem with that view of Puryear and others is demonstrated in the description of the “sinner’s prayer”: ‘The use of a “sinner’s prayer” is a means to help guide the sinner to say what he wants to say to Jesus but doesn’t know how.’ Reformed Baptists would say to this that if a person does not know how to express repentance and belief, the gospel might not have been presented, and it might not be a good idea to admit to membership one who cannot express this basic work of Christ in his heart. Scripture tells us that when we “confess with our mouth” we will be saved, not that we will be saved when someone else confesses for us.

The worst example of straw-man argumentation and ad hominem attack, however, is this gem from Puryear:

‘If your church doesn’t want to invite people to Christ during a worship service then go ahead and call a reformed pastor to your church. But if you want for everyone to have an opportunity to come to Christ during all worship services, call a traditional Southern Baptist pastor.’

Again, if the proof of whether a church invites people to Christ is the use of an altar call, invitation, decision card or sinner’s prayer, then something is terribly wrong with the preaching and teaching ministry of that church. And equating ‘opportunity to come to Christ’ with man-made devices and ‘traditional’ services is an almost perfect example of the man-centered, gospel-weak, Spirit-impotent approach to evangelism that Reformed Baptists prefer to avoid.

Reformed vs Southern Baptist: Elders & Congregational Polity

[This is the fifth article interacting with a series by Les Puryear — www.lesliepuryear.blogspot.com — regarding whether Southern Baptists can be Reformed]

On this point, the criticism of Reformed Baptists is that they prefer an elder-led polity to one traditionally characterized as “congregational.” At least on this point the criticism correctly cites the predominant fact: Reformed Baptists do favor an elder-led structure.

Yet clarification — as seems to be the consistent need — is in order.

Reformed Baptists do not favor single-elder, autocratic rule that overrides the will and voice of the congregation. In fact, this type of wayward leadership is more possible in “congregational” churches than in the elder-led form favored by Reformed Baptists. The Reformed concept of spiritual leadership is that each church be led by a team of elders, consisting of both staff and lay elders. In this structure, the preacher becomes the “teaching elder” and member of the elder team. Although he is the point man, no one elder overrides or vetoes the others. And the congregation remains the final authority, approving significant elder action, and approving or removing elders as appropriate.

Furthermore, elder-led and “congregational” are not mutually exclusive. An “elder-led, congregational” form is, after all, the example found in Scripture. Elders tend to the ministry of the word and prayer, deacons handle service matters, and the congregation remains the final authority in issues related to affirming elders’ handling of doctrinal disputes and the discipline or expulsion of members.

The conflict between and elder-led structure and “congregational” form comes when the church is informed by U.S. style political notions of one-man-one-vote (pure democracy), rather than being conformed to the teaching of Scripture.

Additionally, the “priesthood of the believer” does not mean that every member has an equally valid opinion on every subject. If it did, teachers and preachers would be superfluous, and spiritual leaders an oxymoron. Scripture plainly teaches that there are differing roles for believers in each local body; to suggest that every member is equally able to lead ignores this truth.

Finally, it is unfortunately true that many Southern Baptist churches are neutralized by the presence of unbelievers with voting privileges. There are, as it were, tares among the wheat. To ignore this is naive. Our membership practices encourage little discernment in this regard, and granting a vote to every ‘member’ and granting members votes on every issue is inviting spiritual disaster, or at least virtual inaction. While an elder-led congregational polity does not completely eliminate this problem, it does a much better job at reducing the potential for having the foxes guard the henhouse.

There is no example in Scripture for a “congregational” form in which votes on every issue are put to the membership in monthly business meetings. God could certainly, if he desired, sanctify such a method, but the teaching of Scripture and the observation of experience suggest that he has not.

Reformed vs Southern Baptist: Covenant Theology

[This is the fourth article interacting with a series by Les Puryear — www.lesliepuryear.blogspot.com — regarding whether Southern Baptists can be Reformed]

Among the arguments that one cannot be Southern Baptist and Reformed is the notion that to be Reformed means, necessarily, that one also hold to “Covenant Theology.” As Puryear defines it, however, the point of disagreement comes primarily into focus on the issue of paedobaptism: the practice of baptizing infants because they are de facto members of the covenant by virtue of having been born to believing parents.

Again, Puryear falsely presumes that everyone claiming to be Reformed Baptist adopts paedobaptism, or, if they deny it, they are either mistaken or deceiving themselves and others. This is demonstrably false, and a tactic of logic unbecoming serious discussion of issues.

Even so, let it be known that this Reformed Baptist — and all the others I know — reject paedobaptism and that aspect of “Covenant theology” decried by Puryear and others.

However, is it prudent to pit “covenant theology” against “Baptist theology,” as Puryear expressly does?

There is no doubt that in the Old Testament God promises a “new covenant.” In the New Testament, Jesus describes himself as securing the “new covenant” by the shedding of his blood and the breaking of his body, both of which we commemorate in the ordinance of the Lord’s Supper. Hebrews tells us that Christ obtained for us a “better covenant” through his sacrificial death and perfect obedience.

This “new covenant” — of grace, as it were — is absolutely crucial to our understanding of grace, the security of the believer, salvation, and sanctification. No Southern Baptist should acquiesce to any theological framework that rejects an understanding of our place in this covenant.

“Covenant theology” is traditionally framed against an understanding of “dispensational theology,” and in that framing, Southern Baptists occupy a sort of de-militarized zone between them (although dispensational theology is quite popular with some prominent Southern Baptists). Puryear quotes Bart Barber’s description of covenant theology in terms of the relationship between the Old and New Testaments,and, it would seem, how this relates to the “pattern” of the New Testament church. It is unclear what this means, but apparently has to do with membership in the body: in the Old Testament, membership was determined by blood; in the New Testament, by conversion and profession (Baptism).

But this treatment makes two fundamental errors. First, covenant has to do with much more than the determination of membership lists, and cannot be limited to an expansion of the ‘church’ from ethnic identity to trans-ethnic spiritual identity: the terms of covenant are also vital. Second, it comes to rest in a position that seems satisfied not merely with a Southern Baptist understanding of ‘new covenant,’ but with an understanding of Southern Baptist thought with ‘no covenant.’

Puryear and others have thrown out the proverbial baby with the bathwater. They have identified an objectionable aspect of “covenant theology” (which is essentially Presbyterian), pinned that proverbial tail on the “Reformed Baptist” donkey, and cast them all out of the SBC barn.

Reformed vs Southern Baptist: Sacraments & Ordinances

[This is now the third article interacting with a series of posts by Les Puryear (www.lesliepuryear.blogspot.com) in which he compares and contrasts what he considers to be the “traditional” Southern Baptist position and his concept of “Reformed” Baptist.]

With regard to the Lord’s Supper and Baptism, Puryear claims that Reformed Baptists classify those functions of the church as “sacraments” as opposed to the traditional view of them as “ordinances.”

First, there is the lingering problem with the assessment that Reformed Baptist thought is truly what Puryear says it is. Puryear seems to propose that every person with whom he has spoken who claims the mantle “Reformed Baptist” views the Lord’s Supper and Baptism as sacraments. Yet I have not met one who believes this. Rather than reconsidering his characterization of Reformed Baptists, however, Puryear insists that those who claim to be Reformed but who reject the sacramental perspective are not really Reformed, after all, but are merely “Calvinist” Baptists.

Patronization is alive and well, it seems, and one also finds that there are many distinctions without differences, especially in the blogging world.

Second, it is not altogether certain that a thing cannot be both an ordinance AND some sort of platform for grace. That is, it is certainly true that the physical act of being submerged in water is not the mechanism of saving grace to the believer. Baptism is certainly the believer’s outward profession of the inward change that God has wrought in him through Christ. But is it ONLY that?

By disfavoring the term ‘sacrament,’ Baptists reject the sacerdotal baggage that comes with it, nameley, that the ‘sacrament’ of Lord’s Supper and Baptism is necessary for grace. Southern Baptists reject the notion that should a believer miss partaking in a given ‘sacrament,’ that he will in some respect be cut off from gospel privileges.

But to reject the ‘necessary for grace’ view of sacerdotalism does not require us to view Baptism and the Lord’s Supper are bare human acts with no relation to grace.

Would not everyone agree that witnessing Baptism as part of our corporate worship, and in that act being reminded that God is still raising men from death to life through Christ, is somehow ‘gracious’ to the one witnessing it?

And would not everyone agree that participating in the Lord’s supper — and in so doing not only being reminded that the body and blood of Christ were given up for our trangressions and justification, but also ‘participating’ (Gr. ‘koinonia’) in the body and blood (1Co10:16) — is somehow ‘gracious’ to the participant?

Reformed Baptists do not believe that the ordinances convey saving grace. But it is unwise to suggest that neither do they convey any sort of sanctifying grace.

Puryear on Alcohol

I’ve become more interested in Les Puryear’s blog (www.lesliepuryear.blogspot.com) since the Southern Baptist Convention, and find that his discussion about all things distinctive about the SBC are helpful in many ways.

Previously I posted a general response to some of his thoughts, but want to address some of his concerns about Reformed Baptist thought and practice specifically.

Before beginning his series on the differences between Reformed Baptists and what he calls ‘traditional’ Southern Baptists, he posted an article entitled ‘Why I Don’t Drink Alcoholic Beverages.’

I think that it is perfectly acceptable, from the perspective of both biblical interpretation and practical expedience, for a believer to decide it is better for him to avoid alcohol entirely. The grounds for such a decision might include the reputation of the believer and his ability to witness, the influence of alcoholism, and so forth. In this regard, I agree with much of Puryear’s assessment and have no difficulty with many of the reasons for his alcohol avoidance.

However, I part company with tee-totalers when they conclude 1) that all believers should join them, or 2) that avoiding alcohol is ‘who we are’ as Southern Baptists.

Part of the problem is the view that all alcohol consumption implicates the biblical principle of not being a ‘stumbling block.’ Puryear references this Pauline principle, and adds “While it may be perfectly fine biblically for me to have a glass of wine with my meal in a good restaurant, it is not perfectly fine biblically for my example to lead someone else to sin”.

The problem comes when we consider the use of alcohol — which is not categorically a sin in Scripture — a ‘stumbling block,’ and enlarge the avoidance category to include all things that ‘lead someone else to sin.’

In Paul, a ‘stumbling block’ is described in terms of those who have emerged from a culture of worshiping idols and sacrificing food to them, and are now faced with buying the same food in the marketplace as a matter of practical necessity. It is bad for the mature brother to eat such food when it causes the weaker brother — whose conscience bothers him about it — to deny the voice of conscience and eat, anyway.

So the essence of ‘stumbling block’ is causing a weaker brother to begin a pattern of denying conscience and behaving against its guidance. In the case of alcohol, it is similar to a mature brother who emerged from alcoholism drinking socially when the conscience of a weaker brother — who is fresh on the wagon — still tells him to avoid liquor altogether. It is not, as Puryear suggests, simply ‘leading someone else to sin.’

If it were such a broad principle, then I should avoiding eating, because someone seeing me eat a fried chicken wing might justify his eating a whole bucket. I should avoid driving a car, because someone observing me do a ‘rolling stop’ might justify his reckless driving. I should avoid going to movies, because someone observing me watch Toy Story 3 might justify his watching The Playboy Channel.

This is not, however, what Paul intended.

Believers have good reason to conclude, as Puryear does, that they should avoid alcohol. But categorizing the discussion in terms of ‘stumbling blocks’ removes any discretion and leads to a conclusion that all believers should act the same way.

Legalism & the CP

Issues surrounding the creation of the Great Commission Task Force last year, and the report to the SBC Convention this summer, involve many agencies and missions endeavors promoted by the SBC. While I have personal opinions about the task force recommendations, I don’t know enough yet to evaluate them publicly. I can, though, generally agree that we shouldn’t waste mission money on domestic bureaucracy.

Not knowing enough, however, apparently does not stop others from opining,and I will assess the opinion whirlwind surrounding the GCR and its recommendations.

A church’s giving to Cooperative Program, has, for some years, been a litmus test of sorts. We tend to view the level of CP giving as an indication of denominational loyalty, manifestation of Great Commission passion, and, in extreme — but all too common — situations, cause to question each others’ salvation.

Large churches might give directly to missions projects and missionaries, while still giving to CP. Such a church might have a budget of $2 million, give $200,000 directly to missions, and $100,000 to CP. This sounds good, until smaller churches calculate and point out that the percentage of CP giving is “only” five percent (5%).

It has reached the point (and proceeded past it) that appointees to SBC boards, commissions, and other leadership positions in the denomination are considered unworthy solely on the basis of their churches’ CP giving. One recommendation of the GCR Task Force is to calculate “Great Commission Giving,” which would include CP giving as well as direct missions spending.

As a result, some say that such an effort is in violation of Jesus’ command not to call attention to giving. This creates the situation that the very people who called attention to others’ lack of CP giving are now sanctimoniously decrying the recognition of the existence of Great Commission giving.

Hypocrisy, it would seem, is no respecter of logic, nor appreciative of irony.

Unfortunately, the GCR reveals what has long existed regarding SBC attitudes toward CP giving. Without doubt, the CP serves a valid, important function in SBC life regarding out fulfillment of Great Commission living. But insisting that churches maintain certain levels of CP giving in order to qualify as true Southern Baptists, or worthy of leadership roles, is rank legalism.

First, if we assume that the New Testament obligation of individual believers is to give a tithe (10%) to their local church, fine. But the CP is NOT a local church, and congregations are NOT individual believers. Requiring — even informally — that congregations give a ‘tithe’ to CP is nothing less than adding a requirement to New Testament discipleship that is not found there.

Second, no church can evaluate the CP giving of another without judging what should be a matter of conscience and liberty for that congregation. When one church judges another in this way, there is a great danger that it will become envious of the larger church’s resources, liberty, or freedom not to give such a large portion of annual budget to CP.

Third,there are much more effective — and biblically faithful — methods to guage whether a given pastor would be the sort of denominational leader who is representative of a healthy Southern Baptist church. The ratio of members to attenders is one. Others include the level of involvement of members in discipling, witnessing, and serving; how biblically astute and aware the members are; and the degree to which members’ lives contradict the world.

The problem is that these other measures are difficult to assess, while CP giving is easy to see.

One thing, however, remains certain: if one church claims that the pastor of another is not qualified to serve in the SBC because his congregation gives more directly to evangelizing Muslims in India than to the Cooperative Program, something is amiss in our understanding of the Southern Baptist Convention.

Our Hands are on the Head of the Lamb

“He shall lay his hand on the head of the burnt offering, and it shall be accepted for him to make atonement for him. Then he shall kill the bull before the Lord, and Aaron’s sons the priests shall bring the blood and throw the blood against the sides of the altar that is at the entrance of the tent of meeting” (Leviticus 1:4-5).

It is no wonder that not many of us relish that portion of our read-the-Bible-in-one-year plan that takes us through Leviticus. How morbidly gory. And this description of sacrificial events is not merely the introduction, after which we get to the ‘good stuff.’

Repeatedly we are told how we are to treat peace offerings, either from the herd or the flock, lamb or goat. We are instructed how to treat offering for unintentional sins, intentional sins, sins of the congregation, sins of leaders. We are instructed how to deal with the uncleanness of childbirth, of nocturnal emissions, of leprosy – even of leprous houses.

And for each of these offenses and offerings, an animal dies. The perpetrator brings his lamb to the priest, lays his hands on its head, and turns it over to the priest for slaughter, its blood spilled and flesh torn.

Over and over, offense after offense, animal after animal God gives us the picture of the guilty laying his hand on an innocent substitute. Over and over, day after day, year after year, the picture of symbolic transfer is played out in the scene of temple life for Israel, and as a result of the magnitude of sin, the bleating of sheep fills the ears and the running of blood is ever before the eyes.

“For the life of the flesh is in the blood, and I have given it for you on the altar to make atonement for your souls, for it is the blood that makes atonement by the life” (Leviticus 17:11).

We no longer have the picture of temple sacrifice in the style of Leviticus. Instead, we have the Lord’s Supper, with its otherwise mundane elements and repeated words “this is my body, this is my blood.” And rather than depicting a repeated event, these pictures themselves are reminders of a single event, an accomplished act, the final Levitical sacrifice.

It is now Christ who is the sacrificial Lamb, led to the slaughter, his blood spilled and body torn. And it is my offense that requires his presence on the altar, my hand placed on his head, my guilt transferred to the one who was innocent.

When we commemorate the Last Supper in Maundy Thursday celebrations, the crucifixion in Good Friday services, when we claim that we have trusted Christ, we are saying to the priest, to our neighbor, to our fellow offender that we have sin for which blood needs to be shed, and that we have placed our hands on the head of the spotless Lamb. We are proclaiming that it should have be us on the cross.

And when we join together for sunrise services on Resurrection Day, we are acknowledging as obsolete the Levitical system which required that once an animal was slaughtered and new offenses committed, new life was required, new blood had to be spilled.

Instead, in the New Covenant, in which “this is my body, this is my blood,” this Lamb is not forever silenced, his heart not forever stopped, because he was Begotten of the Father and was able to bear the punishment for sin in our stead, God providing proof that he was satisfied with the Lamb by raising him from the dead.

It should have been the offender’s own blood in Leviticus, it should have been our own body on the cross, but praise God that it was the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world.