Infant
Baptism in a New Apostolic Age
Part One: Presenting the Issues
Part Two: Infant Baptism and Making Disciples
Postscript
Jeff Krogstad
November 7, 1997
Introduction: The Question
All
my life I have heard questions about infant baptism. How can baptism of an infant be valid when the baby doesn’t
even know what’s going on? Where
does faith come in? Is infant
baptism a kind of “magic”? Can an
unbaptized child go to heaven? Can
a baptized child go to hell? As I
have worked in the Lutheran church over the last decade, I have begun to wonder
how, in practical terms, our practice of infant baptism affects us. Also, what are the implications of
infant baptism for the life of the church? I don’t expect to answer all my own questions in this paper,
but I am hoping to set forth a practical theology of infant baptism for the
Lutheran church as it moves into an uncertain future.
Infant
baptism had its origins in the shadows of the early church. Baptism of adult converts was certainly
the most common form of baptism before the 300’s A.D. However, when Christian families could reasonably be
expected to raise children in faith so that no later conversion was necessary,
infant baptism was an appropriate initiation into the church. Though the New Testament is ambivalent
regarding infant baptism, the practice was certainly common in such cases by
the end of the second century.[1]
When
Christianity became the faith of the Empire in the fourth century, infant
baptisms gradually replaced adult conversions as the standard means of entrance
into the church. The Church of the
Empire could mandate and control faith instruction after baptism (though it did
not always do so) and could tie the baptismal rite to later life transitions --
Confirmation, Marriage, Penance, Ordination, Extreme Unction, etc.[2]
In
the title of this paper, “Infant Baptism in a New Apostolic Age,” I am loosely
borrowing Loren Mead’s terminology from The Once and Future Church. Mead applies the term “Apostolic”
properly to the pre-Constantinian era of the church.[3] His work has been appropriated into the vernacular of
many congregations who see themselves returning to an “apostolic” style of
being the church. That is, they
see their surrounding community, not the wilds of Madagascar or New Guinea, as
their primary mission field. The
term “apostolic” may be helpful in that we remember our task of proclaiming the
gospel, not only across the world but next door.
However,
we are deluded if we see too close a parallel between the “Apostolic Age” and
our own. We live among the remains
of Christendom, with its buildings and its attitudes in various states of
disrepair around us. As we
look into the future, trying to discern the shape of the church to come, we may
well question the usefulness of infant baptism. It is one more shard of Christendom, left over from the days
when membership in the Empire included membership in the Church, and to belong
to society was to be a Christian, more or less. Like the other leftovers of Christendom, infant baptism must
be reconsidered as the church moves into the future.
Taking
the Great Commission -- perhaps the best known baptismal text -- as a paradigm,
we can critique historical practices of baptism. Our goal is to make
disciples by (1) baptizing in the
name of the Triune God and by (2) teaching
these disciples to observe the commands of Christ. Our practice of baptism is faithful as much as it carries
out the church’s call to make disciples, to baptize them and to teach them.
Within
its limited use in the early church, in families of faith who were likely to
raise children in faith, infant baptism made sense. Baptism was conducted by the church for children belonging
to Christian families. The family
was then responsible, along with the local congregation to which they belonged,
for teaching their children.
Within
the confines of the Empire and a “cultural Christianity” where faith
instruction permeated social structures, infant baptism made another kind of
sense. The Church, that mighty
institution, conducted the baptism as a rite of entry into a church-dominated
society. The society then became
responsible for teaching the commands of Christ.
What
sense can we make of infant baptism in our own day, when an extremely low
percentage of the baptized are raised within the church? Today’s baptized infants will grow up
in a world of many cultures, many religions, many choices. Buddhism, Islam, and many other “isms”
have become valid, even attractive, choices for us. The church has not dealt well with the twin questions of
pluralism and relativism.
To
make matters worse, those baptized are not instructed effectively in
faith. Many families who remain
within the church do an abysmal job of instructing their children in what it
means to be a Christian. The
church’s traditional methods of fulfilling the command to teach -- primarily
Sunday School and Confirmation -- are marginally effective at best. Even if it is argued that this has
always been the case -- that our children are, in fact, as well educated in
faith as baptized children of any era -- we must still mourn the widespread
complacency, the nominal faith, that clogs our congregations. Some have argued that churches
practicing adult or “believers” baptism face similar problems of complacency
and shallow discipleship. This
argument, too, is beside the point.
We are responsible for the integrity of our own practice, for our
faithfulness to the command of Jesus Christ to make disciples as best we know
how.
So
the question comes in two parts.
First, can we say that
infant baptism is, here and now, a valid response to Christ’s command to
baptize? And second (assuming a
positive answer to the first question), how will we handle catechesis --
training in faith -- when we baptize infants?
The
Classic Form of Baptism: A place
to begin
The
question is both wide and deep. To
understand some of the dynamics facing the church today, it may be helpful to
review Robert Jenson’s description of baptism in its classic form in the third
and fourth centuries.[4] Jenson outlines three acts to the baptismal rite: repentance (or preparation), baptism
itself, and initiation (welcoming).
The
first movement is repentance or preparation, which served to separate the candidate
from his or her old life. Time in
the “catechumenate” provided training in the Christian life, separation from
pagan practices, time for prayer and fasting, and public examination in the
faith. This stage of preparation
might last months or even years.
Each candidate was expected to undergo rigorous self-examination,
exorcisms, and training in good works.
The
second act of baptism was the rite itself. It began with a remembrance of the biblical stories of God’s
saving acts in water -- Creation, the Flood, the Exodus, Jesus’ baptism, and
finally baptism in the Christian Church.
Often this remembering took the form of an “epiclesis,” an invoking the
Holy Spirit to come and inhabit the waters to be used in this baptism. Candidates were then stripped naked,
recognizing the fact that they could “carry nothing but themselves through the
waters from the old life into the new.”[5] The candidate renounced Satan and his works, confessed
faith in Christ, was perhaps anointed with oil, and then was (usually)
immersed.
The
third act of baptism began as the newly baptized persons came out of the
water. They were given new
clothing, and led from the font to the place where the congregation had
gathered to hold its vigil. Then
hands were laid on the newly baptized (usually by the bishop), they were
anointed with oil, and a prayer was said for the newly baptized to be filled
with the Holy Spirit. Finally they
joined the congregation for the Lord’s Supper, where they received “extra
chalices of water and of milk and honey, the food of infants and of the
promised land.”[6]
Jenson
presents this account of baptism’s “classic” form as part of his declared
agenda of liturgical renewal.
However, even if this is a somewhat idealized form of the ancient
baptismal rite, it raises up some key elements that have been neglected in our
own practice. While we do
not need to adopt this exact rite, there is an overall movement that we do well
to examine as we evaluate our own baptismal practices.
One
place where this “classic” expression stands in judgment of our own time is in
the tiresome arguments of infant versus adult baptism. It seems clear that these two
practices, whatever their origins, have come to emphasize different parts of
baptism which are held tightly together in the rite Jenson describes. Adult baptism tends to emphasize
repentance and our role in standing up publicly to be baptized. Infant baptism, on the other hand,
emphasizes God’s action in declaring us righteous, in making us part of the
Body of Christ (see Figure 1, page 5).
Another
difference in our appropriation of baptism seems at first to be just
semantics. In our metaphors for
baptism, two camps seem to emerge.
Jenson and the liturgical renewal movement are prone to talk about
baptism in terms of “washing” or “bath” to the exclusion of any other metaphor,
even when quoting Paul in the sixth chapter of Romans.[7] Luther is prone to more violent language -- drowning,
putting to death, etc., and a corresponding resurrection to new life.[8] Such differences in language may seem trivial at
first, but there is a deep division in our understanding of the sacrament
behind these metaphors. If we
would appropriate baptism as an effective rite of initiation, of repentance,
and of our mutual identity, we must take great care in the language we use to
talk about baptism itself and its meaning for us. We will not be able to effectively evaluate infant baptism
for our own time and place if we ignore the tension between these two dominant
images.
Hope
for the Future
My
goal in writing this paper is to flesh out a dream that I have for the Lutheran
Church. I dream that we can be a
church sunk deep in our baptismal identity. Infant baptism reflects the fact that God comes to us when
we are still caught in sin and death.
Infant baptism captures the fact that baptism is in our past -- and only
as faith remembers does baptism take on power. I envision a church where children hear the stories of their
own baptism -- and God’s claim on them -- hundreds of times before they begin
Sunday School. I see those
children growing up with a secure knowledge that they belong to God, and that
God has called them to live a new life.
I can imagine Christians exploring everything from vocational identity
to ecumenical concerns to the abortion debate from the perspective that “I have
been baptized ... and therefore, what is God’s claim on me in this
situation? What is God’s call to
me?”
These
are my dreams. In the second half
of this paper, I hope to cast a vision of infant baptism that will help to
enliven the church and open its doors to the world.
Infant Baptism -- Part 2
Infant Baptism -- Part 2
Outline:
A
theology of infant baptism
Current
practices of infant baptism
Child
development and church practice
Implications
for individuals, families, and congregations
Why
Infant Baptism?
The
practice of infant baptism assumes that a Christian family will raise the child
in faith. Part of a baptismal
liturgy in the Lutheran Brethren church states the situation this way: “Infant baptism is not magic. It is meaningful in the context of a Christian home and congregation
that takes the command to teach as seriously as the command to baptize.”[9] The critique of infant baptism from those practicing
adult or “believer’s” baptism has always been that infant baptism seems like so
much magic -- in other words, no faith is required from the one being
baptized. What effect can baptism
have if the one being baptized does not have faith?
It
is a valid question, and one that brings out the true genius of infant
baptism. The child cannot believe
for herself as she is baptized, but parents and sponsors and the whole body of
Christ believe for her. She is not
independent, able to function on her own, but she needs others -- both for
physical care and for the nurturing of her faith. The beauty of her baptism is precisely this: She does nothing. God has called her through an intricate
web of relationships and family history.
God has shaped the faith of this family, and this family’s faith carries
the child to the water. God has
created an assembly of the people of God in this place, centered around the
water, looking on as the child is baptized. The congregation participates by speaking the words of the
faith to the one being baptized, and by promising to continue that witness
through proclamation and relationship.
Sponsors stand with the family as representatives of the extended
family, of friends, and of the congregation -- in short, all outside the immediate
family who will nurture this child in faith. Many people are working in this rite. Pouring the water, invoking the name of
God, bringing the child, speaking the faith, making promises, and the messy
business of getting a baby wet -- all this is work.
The
beauty of infant baptism is that we are not saved by works, we are saved by the
grace of God (Ephesians 2:8-10).
But this crowd of people, all working together for this infant’s
baptism, is working hard. They
work not for their own salvation but for the salvation of another. They work on behalf of the one who
cannot work for herself. The call
of God to her and the claim of God upon her come through the voices and hands
of many others, who have themselves been called and claimed. Someday she will stand with the
congregation or at the font, working on behalf of another infant. But the message for us is that we do
not save ourselves. We are
carried, we are led, we are baptized by God and by God’s people. This is true not only for those who are
physically helpless, but for us all.
Problems
with infant baptism can begin when we forget this truth. When we neglect the fact that work is
required in baptism, we begin to dispense cheap grace. God works in baptism, but not
alone. The congregation works, the
one who baptizes works, and the family works most of all. When we forget this, we begin to do
private baptisms (because they’re more convenient), we baptize grandchildren
whose families will never darken a church door again (because Grandma really
wants it done), and we promptly forget that baptism is in the highest and best
sense of the word “liturgy” -- the work of the people.
Private
baptisms are (fortunately!) becoming less and less common as we rediscover the
truth that this claiming, this calling, this baptism is a public event. It has to be public because it takes so
many people’s work to accomplish it!
Of course God is powerful enough to do what God wills, to accomplish
faith in a person. But God chooses
to work through the webs of human relationship. Congregations and families become the primary dwelling place
of God. Why else should we be
called the Body of Christ?
The
token baptism of a child whose family does not believe is a greater problem in
our congregations. How can the
church deal with these who just want to get the child “done” for the sake of
family peace? We will take up this
question again later. It is at the
root of many of the problems that plague American Lutheranism.
Cheap
grace begins to rear its head again when we mistake the true nature of
baptism. Because baptism involves
babies, we have too often fallen prey to the temptation to make baptism
“nice.” Baptism becomes a rite of
cooing babies and camcorders, proud parents and doting grandparents. But baptism is not nice. There is violence here of the deepest
sort. If we forget this fact, we
are well on the way to destroying the church. Baptism in any form is God’s claiming and calling a person
out of death and into life, and that transition is a difficult one. It requires death. If we deny this death, we deny our own
identity as those who have been crucified and raised with Christ. We deny our own baptism.
First
and foremost, baptism requires the death of Jesus Christ. The cross is God’s primary act of
claiming us and calling us. Here
God demonstrates his love for us, as he takes our sufferings, our death, our
alienation, our sin, into himself.
The cross is God’s act of bridging the gap that stood between us, of
erasing the boundaries that separated us.
It is God’s invasion of this world, claiming us as his own and
destroying the powers of sin, death, and the devil.
Second,
this transition requires that we be identified with the death and resurrection
of Jesus. For us to move from
death into life means that we, too, must die, because we have belonged to the
powers of sin and death which oppose God.
This is not saying that we are slimy, evil creatures, but that our
inclination is to serve only ourselves -- that we demand to be lords of our own
lives, gods unto ourselves, masters of our own destiny. This “Old Adam” and “Old Eve” in us
must die in the waters. Baptism is
about death. It is not so much
about bathing as it is about drowning.
The theological doctrine of “total depravity” does not mean that we are
only evil, but it does mean that every aspect of our being is tainted with
sin. We cannot simply be scrubbed
and made acceptable, as we usually think of washing. As washing, a brief dip in the pool (or sprinkling from a
bowl!) is a less than powerful symbol.
But any parent knows the terrible fear of leaving a baby alone in a
washtub, or of a toddler wandering off at the lakeshore. Parenting books contain dire warnings
about kids and water:
“... drowning is the second leading cause
of accidental injury-related deaths to children under 14. It happens in bathtubs and pools,
buckets and toilets. It happens in
seconds that will be remembered in slow motion forever ... Babies can drown in
an inch of water and a few moments ...”[10]
It
is a sobering reminder for parents who bring a child to be baptized that they
are, in essence, giving up the life of their child to God. The story of Samuel in the Old
Testament could be effectively used with parents before baptism. Hannah gave up her son to the service
of God, saying, “As soon as the child is weaned, I will bring him [to the
tabernacle] that he may appear in the presence of the Lord, and remain there
forever; I will offer him as a nazirite for all time” (I Samuel 1:22). In baptism the life of a child is given
to God, and given up by the parents.
When the child comes from the water, she has a new life, and that life
is the gift of God. The words from
the baptismal liturgy, “... child of God, you have been sealed by the Holy
Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ forever,”[11] carry a sense of this death and new
life. The child has been
transferred from death into life, from the household of the world into the
household of God. The child
belongs to God, and the parental role becomes that of a steward, a caretaker of
this treasure which is God’s.
Perhaps
this is a heavy word to those who bring children to be baptized. Why should we make baptism such a
dramatic, even morbid, event? We
too often forget that it is a serious matter to get involved with the living
God. This sense of death and life,
of giving up a child to God, can communicate to parents the seriousness of the
upcoming baptism. It also helps
the whole congregation reflect on their own baptism and the fact that they,
too, belong to God and not to themselves.
“You are not your own; you were bought with a price” (I Corinthians
6:19-20). The price is the
cross, in which we participate through baptism.
As
the church moves away from Christendom, the boundary between the church and the
world will need to be closely defined.
Baptism is the sacrament by which we are brought across this boundary
into the community which lives by the death and resurrection of Christ. We are the community of people who can
echo Paul’s words: “I have been
crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I live in the body, I live by
faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me” (Galatians
2:20). Drowning is an
appropriate way to talk about what happens to us in baptism. We no longer live -- our lives are lost
in the water. We drown in the
font, and only faith -- the faith of the community that makes promises for us
-- brings us forth from the water into a brand new life.
This
language of death and new life, cost and payment sounds foreign to baptism in
most of our congregations. What
does baptism look like in the church?
Will this be enough to carry the church in a post-Christian age?
Current
Practices of Infant Baptism
When parents call the church to set up a
baptism, a chain of events is set in place. A typical scenario might look like this: The church secretary checks the
schedule and affirms that the requested Sunday is an appropriate time for a
baptism. The secretary consults
the pastor who affirms the date, and the family is contacted to schedule a
pre-baptismal session. Actual
practice of pre-baptismal meetings varies widely. Some congregations require a series of classes; others
require nothing at all aside from a brief meeting before the service to arrange
who will stand where. The average
is probably one meeting with a pastor to discuss the order of the baptismal
service, the promises made in baptism, and the logistics of sponsors, names,
candles, etc. Following this
session, someone (pastor or church secretary, usually) makes out a baptismal
certificate, perhaps a card for sponsors, a baptismal towel, and other
items. A candle is usually
prepared for the one baptized, to be presented during the rite.
The
day of the baptism the family is eager.
They sit toward the front of the sanctuary, worrying that the infant (or
older siblings) may need to be taken out during worship. Pastors usually look forward to
baptisms, and the best of them have personalized the baptismal liturgy a little. The crowd gathers at the appropriate
time around the font, the liturgy is more or less followed, and the baby gets
damp. The pastor will often
present the baby to the congregation, and everyone oohs and aahs at a wide-eyed
smiler, or laughs sympathetically at an angry screecher. The family sits down, the service goes
on ... then what? What follow-up
do congregations provide for the promises which have been made by the parents,
sponsors, and congregation itself?
The
norm is that the congregation does nothing -- except perhaps a parenting class or
two -- until the child is about four years old, when she can start Sunday
School. After age four, regular
Sunday School is available. The
child usually receives a Bible around third grade -- assuming that the parents
are still in touch with the church and that the child is involved in Sunday
School. Perhaps in fifth grade,
she is enrolled in First Communion classes. About seventh grade she begins Confirmation instruction --
time to learn about the promises made for her in baptism so she can decide if
she will take them on for herself.
This
is an outline of typical congregational practices of infant baptism. Some congregations are experimenting
with different programs, especially in regard to Confirmation. A great deal of money and time has been
spent in the last decade on innovative programs for junior high Confirmation
instruction. Other congregations
have begun to focus on the ongoing faith development of children through
creative approaches to Sunday School and mid-week Christian education.
Troubling
Research in Infant Development
But
there’s a dangerous gap here. From
the day of baptism until age four, the family is almost entirely responsible
for the child’s faith development.
Few congregations provide resources, incentives, or accountability for
families to intentionally disciple a child from birth through age five. These are throwaway years as far as
congregational involvement. Yet
recent research into infant and child development has demonstrated that the
first three years -- according to some researchers, the first three months -- are an incredibly crucial
time. During the first months of
life, the brain is developing synapses -- pathways for processing information
-- that will be used throughout life to interpret the world. A report to the National Governor’s
Association recently asserted that “... the period of greatest brain
development comes very early. It is not third grade, when last-chance efforts
to learn to read are what's most important. It is not even age 3. A more propitious
time for learning is age 3 months.”[12] By neglecting faith development in these initial
months of life, we essentially allow the child to become hard-wired to whatever
system the family provides. In
essence, given the marginal spirituality of most families -- even church-going
families -- we are hardwiring infants to think, act, and interpret the world in
functionally agnostic ways. Then,
about age four, when this hardwiring is locked in place, we spend a great deal
of time and effort trying to educate kids into faith. Anyone who has worked with children or teenagers in the
church can verify that as a rule, kids with faith come from families with
faith. Sunday School can’t hold a
candle to family devotions when it comes to faith development.
The
church places a great deal of emphasis on education and intellectual
development of faith, but we have neglected the time when people are most educable. Our allocation of resources in the
church parallels the allocation of public education funds, which were graphed
on a chart presented to the National Governor’s Association:
“[The chart] depicted a nearly vertical
line describing a child's brain growth from birth to age 5 and another line
representing public investments that remained almost flat until about age
5. The visual display of the
mismatch between resources and the ages when the resources would be most useful
is extremely persuasive.”[13]
The obvious solution to this problem is
to follow infant baptism with some kind of faith development programming. But what to do and how to do it are not
simple questions.
It may be helpful at this point to
reexamine the Great Commission, which has historic-ally served as a paradigm
for the church’s baptismal practice:
“Go and make disciples of all nations,
baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit,
and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the
very end of the age.” (Matthew 28:19-20)
The primary command to the Twelve, and by
extension to the church, is to make disciples. This task is accomplished by baptizing and by teaching. The whole process depends on the
presence of Christ.
We
in the Lutheran church have certainly been baptizing. We baptize scads of babies. But are we, in fact, making disciples? So many families, as noted above, bring
a child to be baptized out of a sense of family tradition or obligation. Baptism functions for them as a sort of
“christening” in the weakest sense of the word -- a “naming party.” In fact, it has even lost that sense of
power, for naming is done at (or before) birth. It becomes a lukewarm rite to procure the blessing of a
distant deity. Certainly the
church does not intend it to be so weak, but for the family and, by extension,
for the one baptized, the rite becomes meaningless. (I do not believe it is
meaningless; certainly such a person who later came to an active faith would
have no need to be re-baptized.
Functionally, though, it is an empty rite.) A disciple has not been made, though a baptism has been
performed.
What
has gone wrong, and how can it be corrected? The immediate answer is that something has been neglected on
the “teaching” end of Christ’s command.
Teaching about the Christian life is not a matter to be left until
later. Just as the family, the
sponsors, and the congregation carry the child to the font in faith --
believing for the child -- so the congregation, the sponsors, and the family
can be taught on behalf of the child.
This web of relationships, strengthened and built up in faith, provides
an incubator for the faith which can grow in the child. At this stage of life, teaching the
family is, in fact, teaching the child, for the family will have the greatest
influence on the child’s faith.
Groundwork laid now will provide fertile ground for Sunday School, First
Communion, Confirmation, and beyond.
Such
teaching begins, as stated above, with clear communication about the nature of
baptism. Parents looking for a
sweetness-and-light, “feel good” baptism will have to think hard whether they
want to drown their child at the font.
For many parents (especially those who have little sense that they
themselves belong to God) the idea of giving up the life of their child to God
-- like Hannah gave up Samuel -- is unpleasant. The practical implications of this view of baptism are easy
enough to draw. When the child is
choosing a career, for instance, what happens when the child -- now a young
adult -- feels strongly called by God to volunteer for a year with the Lutheran
Volunteer Corps in the inner city?
Or to take on a two year commitment as a missionary in eastern
Europe? What happens to the
parent’s dreams that their child will become a doctor, or a teacher, or a
software engineer? If we take
baptism seriously, the parent’s role has been to raise that child on behalf of
the God to whom the child
belongs. When it comes to
choosing, God’s desires should take priority over the parents’ desires. This priority should be reflected in
the choice of the one baptized.
Such a choice is a direct implication of baptism, and one the parents
should think through before they present the child to be baptized.
This
is one example of a way to appropriate infant baptism for our church after
Christendom. If we hold a strong
theology of infant baptism as death and new life, we can draw out other
implications for individuals, families, and congregations.
Implications
for Individuals
What does it mean in our individualistic
society to live as a baptized person -- as one who has died and lives now
through faith in the Son of God?
What does it mean to belong to the Body of Christ? What does it mean to be a child of God,
born of water and the Spirit?
These are all, essentially, the same question. Baptism initiates us into the corporate Body of Christ and
gives us a new identity as children of God. Given this identity, how do we live as individuals in the
world?
One
crucial part of an individual’s life consists of making choices. Belief in individual choice -- freedom
of the individual -- is one of the cornerstones of western culture, and it
permeates the church as well. This
belief in itself is not a bad thing, but our baptismal theology must take into
account the need of individuals for some kind of decision making criteria. Baptism provides a two-layered question
for the baptized person facing any decision. These two questions are:
What is God’s claim
on me in this situation?
What is God’s call to
me in this situation?
Baptism is integrally tied with both of
these questions. In baptism we are
claimed by God -- given a new identity, given a new family, given a new
life. All these are part of being
claimed by God. We hear the Law in
a new way -- “I am the Lord your God”
-- as the gracious love of God for us.
In claiming us, God has become willing to be claimed by us as well. Over and over again God promises to
hear, to answer, to be found, to be attentive. We are claimed by the God who now becomes our own.
So the question, “What is God’s claim on me in this situation?” is about
our identity as God’s own people, and also about our position as individuals
privileged to call on God in confidence.
When I face a decision -- “How shall I respond to statistics on teen
pregnancy and abortion?” for instance, or “Should I marry this person whom I
have begun to love?” -- I must first of all remember that I belong to God, I am
called by the name of God. As a
child of God, what claim does God have on me in this situation? How will my actions, my decisions, impact
my God, my family, and my identity as a Christian? My identity provides a screen through which I can view the
decisions I must make.
Second,
what is God’s call to me in this situation? We belong to a God who calls us, over and over, beyond where
we are. We are called to
follow. Does God call me in this
situation to reach out in compassion to those whose lives have been scarred by
abortion? Is God calling me to
touch the lives of teens who are at risk before their behavior leads to teenage
pregnancy? Am I called to take a
stand, to reach out to a neighbor, to be an agent of reconciliation, to
faithfully disciple my children?
What is the call of God to me
specifically, right here, right now?
Children
can learn these two simple questions as a helpful guide in Christian decision
making. These questions are also
useful for adults who want their faith to be a reality beyond Sunday
morning. The questions do not come
with an agenda; they simply place our identity and our mission as the people of
God squarely in front of us as we make decisions. Each individual who has been baptized can use these criteria
to shape a life of faithful discipleship.
Another
implication for individuals involves the relationship between baptism and
death. Martin Luther talked about
baptism as the “big death” and the death of the body as “the little
death.” What comfort in these
words for those who fear death!
Our understanding shifts as we can echo with Paul that “I have died
...” If the death of our bodies
is, truly, a sinking deep in the baptismal water, we need not fear it. Just as God was in our baptism, giving
us new life, so God is in our death, finalizing the transaction. There is room for a whole array of
devotional material, Biblical study, sermon and teaching material in this
theological perspective that lies beyond the scope of this paper. However, for individuals concerned
about death, this kind of baptismal theology may prove very helpful.
Implications
for Families
The
family is a hot topic in our society right now. “Family values” has become a trigger phrase for any number
of different political and religious agendas. In this context we are dealing only with the family as it
relates to baptism; however, that relationship can be far reaching. The implications of baptism can reach
deep into family relationships.
This section will only scratch the surface of some ways families may
live out their baptismal identity.
Many
discussions of “family” are further complicated by endless debates over what
exactly constitutes a family. For
the purposes of discussing infant baptism, a family is whatever immediate
context of people nurture and support the child on an ongoing basis. Blended families, foster families,
adoptive families, single parent families, or any other permutation of
“families” -- all provide basic nurture for growing children. It is that nurturing activity that
provides an opportunity for the beginnings of baptismal education.
What
happens for the family at baptism?
Here we can recover Jenson’s “classic form” of baptism (see above). There are three distinct movements to
baptism when we view it in terms of the family and not just the infant.
Jenson’s
first movement is Preparation and Repentance. This introduction encompasses family meetings with the
person who will officiate at the baptism, any “homework” that might come out of
that meeting / meetings, the family’s own spiritual preparation, and the
details of arranging sponsors, dates, etc. There is a great deal of room here for families to prepare
themselves to effectively nurture the faith of the infant; some of these
possibilities will be addressed in detail under “Implications for
Congregations” below.
A
few concrete family activities to prepare for the baptism might include:
Buy appropriate children’s books -- Bible
stories or other books that teach faith -- that can be read over and over again
to an infant
Incorporate themes of faith into the
baby’s room -- pictures, decorations, etc.
Discuss the upcoming baptism with older
siblings, helping them participate
Parents should consider “personalizing”
the baptismal service; discuss this with the pastor or whoever will officiate
Find and buy a good children’s Bible that
will be interesting to younger children
Parents may need guidance to work through
what it means to lead a Christian family.
This topic will be taken up again in the next section.
The
second movement in the classic form of baptism is the baptismal rite
itself. Here we can enrich the
participation of families by highlighting their roles not only in this rite,
but in the nurturing of the child being baptized. Siblings and extended family can be lifted up through their
involvement in the service.
Sermons that deal openly with the action of baptism and the baptismal
identity of each Christian are entirely appropriate any time a baptism is part
of worship. We must not neglect
the fact that this is water together with the word of God. That word is not simply the formula, “I
baptize you in the name ...” but it involves all our words surrounding this
baptism. Liturgy, sermon,
scriptures, and the informal explanations accompanying the rite -- all become
vehicles for the word of God to reach the people of God. The family is a special recipient of
this word, and must be lifted up as such during worship. If pastors do not recognize the
importance of the family in baptism, families should educate their pastors.
The
third movement in baptism is that of welcoming the infant into the Body of
Christ, into the family of God.
This movement begins at baptism and continues indefinitely. Bedtime stories, special songs, family
celebrations, baptismal birthdays, attending worship together, family devotions
... all these are part of enacting and re-enacting the welcome of that child
into this family and into the family of God. Here is the family’s greatest responsibility in
baptism: The family becomes the
primary context in which the child is welcomed into the Body of Christ. It is the focus of Christian
discipleship for the child, and the arena in which the child will first begin
to discover her gifts and passions for her own walk of faith. Whatever welcoming rituals are part of
the baptismal rite -- presenting the infant to the congregation, receptions
after worship, bringing the infant to the Lord’s Supper -- the family will
provide the ongoing relationship in which the welcome becomes reality.
Implications
for the Congregation
Given
recent child development research, and the universally accepted fact that
children learn best between birth and about three years, it seems quite obvious
that the church should be putting a strong emphasis on early childhood
education. The question is how to
go about it. Infants don’t learn
well in a classroom setting. They
pay little or no attention in lecture.
Chalkboards bore them until about two years of age, when they enjoy
scribbling and eating chalk. Let’s
face it -- little kids don’t deal well with our traditional methods of
discipleship.
Infants
learn from hearing, watching, and interacting with those they love. Repetition is crucial. Because of these factors, parents and
families are the key to discipling children at this stage of life. The church must focus on parents and
families in order to disciple newly baptized children. This focus can be carried out in a
number of ways, depending on the congregation’s gifts and resources. Here are a few ideas:
One
congregation I know has begun baptismal “classes” rather than meeting with each
set of parents individually. In
these classes, they bring together all those who have requested baptism in a
given period of time, spend some time talking about the meaning of baptism and
its implications, and in the process build a bond between some of these young
families. A potential outgrowth of
this program might be development of ongoing small groups of parents who
support each other in parenting and in living out their baptismal
commitment. Such a small group
might be a context for sharing of ideas and encouragement as well as resources
for parenting and discipleship. It
might involve Bible study or be a group centered around parenting concerns and
fellowship. It seems like a natural
way to begin a small group for parents who have children roughly the same age
and are dealing with many of the same issues.
Such
a small group might also be a good context to provide a “congregational
sponsor” for baptisms -- a person who can be a resource, a support, and a
positive connection between the congregation and the family. A congregational sponsor serves as a
representative to the family of the whole congregation, and serves as a way for
the congregation to gently provide some accountability for the family’s
baptismal promises. The sponsor
can point to congregational resources and could provide a feedback mechanism to
the congregation’s leadership if families feel the need for resources that are
not offered. This congregational
sponsor might even serve as the facilitator for a baptismal small group. In any case, one congregational sponsor
could be assigned to more than one family, and perhaps one person could be a
sponsor for an entire small group.
(This would make the recruitment and training of congregational sponsors
a less labor-intensive task for the congregation’s leadership, and would
provide one more connection between the families in the small group.)
A
rural congregation I know has chosen one Sunday each fall to emphasize
baptism. They open the church
records during the coffee hour so people can find their own baptismal date if
they don’t know it. (Most of the
congregation’s members have always lived in the area and find their own baptism
date in this congregation’s records.)
For two or three Sundays before the celebration, they work to fill out a
name tag for each person which includes their name, the words “Child of God”
and the date of their baptism. On
the baptism emphasis day, every person in the congregation has such a name tag. It is a fun and personal way to talk
about the benefits we receive in baptism, and the three-week emphasis keeps
baptism in the front of people’s minds.
As a part of this celebration, parents are encouraged to talk with their
children about the child’s baptism.
Resources are sent home through Sunday School or are handed out to parents
at worship to help them discuss the meaning of baptism with their own children.
Another
potential way congregations may help parents is to provide a good church
library with a strong emphasis on quality children’s materials. Bedtime stories, quality videos, games,
and Bible story books can easily be provided for families.
One
key to this kind of parenting and family faith emphasis is that our worship,
our Christian education, small group opportunities, congregational mailings,
and whatever other resources we provide must repeatedly emphasize the need for
parents to disciple their children.
If we communicate in the life of the congregation that this catechesis
is important, people will begin to take it seriously. If we back up our words with resources and programming, it
carries more weight.
A
final way for congregations to lift up the role of the family in discipling
newly baptized children is in the baptismal liturgy itself. Most baptismal liturgies -- including
the LBW -- make only cursory mention of the parents’ role in discipleship. And when that role is mentioned, too
often it centers around teaching the Creed, the Lord’s Prayer, and the Ten
Commandments -- a valuable activity, to be sure, but one that cannot begin
until about three or four years of age at the earliest. The baptismal rite can be a time for
the whole congregation to remember their own baptism and to hear anew their
responsibilities to those baptized today.
The use of a candle in the rite functions this way in some congregations
-- parents are encouraged to take this candle home and light it on a regular
basis as a reminder of baptism.
Other possibilities would be to lift up common child-rearing activities
and tie them to baptism. The
obvious parallel is bathtime.
Parents can be encouraged to remember this day and re-tell the story
every time they bathe their child -- from this day forward.
The
beauty of these possibilities is that they are not costly in terms of
money. They are programs that can
be led primarily by volunteers if the pastoral staff is publicly enthusiastic
and supportive. And these ideas
are just a beginning of what the congregation might find to help families
accomplish their task of “teaching” the faith to their children.
Postscript
I
have two daughters. Erica is five
and Mathea is two. From the time
they were baptized, whenever I bathe them we have enacted a simple little
ritual that goes like this: As I
finish rinsing the shampoo out of their hair, I begin to tell them the story.
The story is tailored to the child; Erica’s goes like this. “When you were just a little baby, we
took you to the church. Pastor
Karl was there, and Patty and Phil, and Jack and Mary and Maddie, and Steve and
Kelly -- lots of people who love you were there. During the service, we brought you up front, and Pastor Karl
took water” -- here I fill up the glass that I have been using to rinse her
hair -- “and he poured water on your head and said, ‘In the name of the Father,
and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit’” -- at the mention of each person of
the Trinity I pour a little water on her hair. Then we do a short interpretive piece that has become highly
interactive:
I
say, “And that meant that Erica was ...”
She
interrupts, “Baptized!”
“...
and she became ...”
“Part
of God’s Family!”
“...
and God ...”
“LOVES
ME VERY MUCH!”
This
ritual has changed very little in the five years since Erica’s baptism. Though I don’t always do the bathing,
we have enacted that conversation at least two or three times a month for her
whole life. As she gets older, I
have added more details of the day into the story. So now she knows more about her baptismal sponsors, and she
knows I got to preach that day.
Mathea hears how the Pastor Jan carried her up and down the aisle and
preached the sermon to her on the Sunday she was baptized. Instead of a dead story, this has
become a living memory for these two children.
A
couple months ago, shortly after some friends of ours had their baby baptized,
Erica asked me, “What does baptism mean?”
I began to explain in simple terms Luther’s teaching in the catechism
about the Old Adam who is drowned in the waters, and the new life that God
gives. She pondered, and replied, “So it’s kind of like a snake shedding its
skin, except that in baptism it’s our heart that we shed and God gives us a new
one.” I was pretty well floored by
this parallel, and told her that was a great picture.
The
conversation continued, and I explained that our old self doesn’t die very
easily, and it keeps on trying to take over instead of letting God be in
control of our lives. She wanted
some practical examples of what it looks like when our old self takes over, so
we talked about fights with her sister, disobeying parents, selfishness, and so
on. Again, she took a minute to
think about these things and then said, “So that old self is kind of like germs
in our bodies. They keep coming
back and we fight them off again and again.” We talked about that parallel for a while, and talked also
about the importance of remembering her baptism -- remembering that God had
drowned her old self and given her a brand new life. She immediately connected this remembering to our bathtime
ritual.
Mathea,
for her part, reenacts her baptism almost daily. She does this in several ways, but one of her favorites is
baptizing dolls in the bathroom sink.
In the tub, she loves to baptize Erica. She acts out the story of her own faith even as it has been
acted out for her.
Erica
and Mathea are growing into a strong faith in Jesus Christ. That faith is, at
least in part, the product of consistent parental catechesis from the time they
were born until the present. Their
parents, sponsors, family friends, extended family, and congregation have all
played important roles in their faith development. Erica and Mathea have been raised fully aware of their
baptism, fully informed that God has claimed them and called them out of a deep
love, to be God’s very own.
This
is my dream for the church, that baptism might be the cornerstone of faith for
children as they grow. I dream
that parents will work together to teach the child about God’s deep love; that
children will grow with the knowledge that they are precious to God; that
congregations and families can work together to help children grow, each day,
deeper into their baptism. As this
baptismal awareness grows, it will, I believe, draw the whole people of God
deeper into faith, and will help the church grow to face the challenges of the
world after Christendom. As we
grow into our baptism, we as a church can ask, “What is God’s claim on us? What is God’s call to us?”
I
believe infant baptism has the potential to convey all that is best within the
tradition of Lutheran Christianity.
My prayer is that the church can rediscover this sacrament of
repentance, water, and welcoming as a rite of initiation that speaks to the
church and to the world of the boundless love of God.
I understand the difference from a theological perspective and we (our denominations) may simple have to agree to disagree. However, my question for you is from a more practical perspective. For the average congregant (parent of a child) is there substantial difference between your rite of infant baptism and our rite of baby dedication?
ReplyDeleteThe outward Church sacrament of baptism is not the inner sacred confession of personal sin [not just faith profession] in that the sin nature is in fallen nature -- disease, dis-ease, death.....to murder, chaos and war -- from the super nature of God. Babies crave physical food not the Word. Water baptism is not The Living Water. Water baptism ought to be "washed out" as mere traditionalism from rejected Catholicism.
ReplyDeleteAs you say, babies crave physical food. We are not simply spiritual beings, but physical ones as well. So the practice of baptism, from John the Baptist through the early church's history, long before the practices and theology of the Roman Catholic Church, involved real, physical water. We need much more than just a spiritual reminder. We need the every day details of water, of bread, of wine. All these physical reminders are important just as it was important for Jesus to be physically "incarnated" in a real, physical body. Baptism is a complex business, commanded by Jesus, and there's no legitimate biblical argument that Jesus didn't intend for us to use real water. Quite the opposite.
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