1. Only Believers
In the missionary situation of Protestantism in Latin America, it has been most natural to conceive of evangelical Christianity as a unity. Under the pressure of an ancient and anti-religious secularism, what all non-Roman Catholic Christians held in common was invariably more significant than what divided them.
But from the beginning it was not so. Students of the sixteenth-century Reformation have in recent years made it abundantly clear that there were actually two quite different Reformation movements, expressing two divergent conceptions of the nature and mission of the church. On one side, there was the Reformation supported by governments in northern Europe and Britain. Whether in the Lutheran, Reformed, or Anglican forms, these official magisterial reformations had in common a fundamental conception of the limits and the pattern of reform. They maintained, from the Middle Ages, the alliance of church and state as this was expressed in the church’s support for the political goals of the local government and in the government’s responsibility for seeing through the Reformation. They also maintained the identity of church and society as expressed in the universal obligation of infant baptism.
On the other side of the great division, even though springing from the same historical soil of the early Swiss Reformation, there was the position of the free churches: the Swiss Brethren, the Bruderhof movement in Moravia, and Mennonites in the Low Countries. These were the weak but courageous representatives of this other vision of the church’s liberty, which has not ceased to grow in numbers and in spiritual vitality over the centuries.
The time is rapidly drawing near when Protestant Christians in Latin America will need to face with growing seriousness this division within the Protestant heritage. During the first generation of missionary aggressiveness, and continuing as long as evangelicals lived under the pressure of persecution, every member of an evangelical congregation obviously had come to that position by deep personal conviction. But now, with the decrease of clericalism, the change in the attitude of the Roman church, and a growth in numbers of Protestants, it may soon come about that second- and third-generation Protestants will raise for all evangelicalism many of the traditional questions implanted in the ancient debate about the baptism of infants. Likewise, the growing numbers and social prestige of Protestants will place before them questions of social responsibility and the possibility of a kind of establishment attitude toward society which was not previously possible in these nations.
Still another aspect of the need for a clarification of the issue of the free church is the great strength in Latin America of the “nonhistorical denominations.” These movements have neither a strong sense of historical perspective nor an outspoken concern for the sociological faithfulness of the church, although they are exclusively free church in their character and theological structure. As the strength of North American leadership is replaced by the intellectual and sociological maturation of indigenous leadership in these young movements, their attitudes toward culture and society can be expected to shift quite rapidly, as has already been demonstrated by the evolution of Pentecostalism in the United States. Therefore, it is not a sectarian revival of divisive character but, rather, an ecumenical responsibility for the spiritual freedom of the entire Protestant movement that leads us to suggest that the great theological challenge of the coming generation will center on the choices that need to be made at this point.
As we approach such a study it should not be assumed that our concern is to determine which denomination is and always has been right. With regard to a particular issue, such as the baptism of infants, it is true that theological responsibility demands that we not be satisfied with affirming two equally valid but contradictory answers. Yet, neither of the traditions currently represented in Latin America has come there straight from the New Testament. On one hand, the pedobaptist Protestant traditions (Waldensian, Lutheran, Presbyterian, and Methodist) brought with them a form developed in Europe in the age of Protestant establishment at its height. Its maintenance in a free church missionary situation, although perhaps logically a contradiction, has not fundamentally changed the stance of the churches in society thus far. On the other hand, the North American believers-baptist groups have come to faith in a society for which, by a similarly paradoxical contradiction, the baptism of adults has become the established form of Protestantism in spite of formal separation of church and state. Thus, neither group has created a form of church life directly out of the Latin American situation. They have taken account of neither the Catholic conservatism of the past nor the revolutionary secularism that is now breaking in upon us. Therefore, although we deal with matters which historically have been expressed in the form of debate between denominations, let us not undertake them under any such immediately polemical assumptions.
Historic contestation over infant baptism has usually been made unfruitful by two mistakes:
a. On the one hand, in the Reformation era and ever since, it has been possible (and has in fact seemed most normal) to carry on a discussion of whether infants should be baptized as an isolated issue within the theology of the sacraments, a discussion seeking to decide the question solely on the basis of texts in the New Testament dealing specifically with baptism as authorized by Christ and as it is practiced by the apostles. While this kind of study is not completely inappropriate, it has also been largely fruitless because it placed the conversation in too narrow a frame. Far more is at stake than the proper handling of a ritual; the entire nature of the church and her place in the world is the issue.
b. The second misunderstanding has been just as harmful. Reformation debates about this issue began at the same time that Europeans were coming to conceive of themselves more and more as individuals. The Reformers themselves mightily fostered this humanistic individualism in their interpretations of the nature of faith and of revelation, but they retained the outward character of the institutions of Christendom in the sociology of their Reformations. It was normal that on both sides of the debate the question of infant baptism was understood consciously as concentrated upon the inward and individual experience. This concentration on the character of the experience of the individual was furthered immensely by the continuing argument around the topic of baptism in the following centuries. What it means to believe truly, what personal understanding and experiences are involved, how one can be sure that one has been forgiven—all such discussion tended in the direction of individualism which seemed to fit in well with the modern Western view of the person as a sovereign, and perhaps lonely, individual.
Again, this kind of study is not inappropriate. It continues to be theologically necessary. But, it is not at the center of the definition of the free church.
The Children of Abraham
The father of the community of the covenant, according to the New Testament as well as the Old, is Abraham, who forsook the earthly city in order to undertake a pilgrimage to the city of God. In quite separate portions of the New Testament, it is striking how uniformly we find the meaning of Abraham shifted away from the Judaistic understanding in order to state the nature of the community of the new covenant.
The first of these statements is in the beginning of the gospel story where John the Baptist was preaching the baptism of repentance. His audience at that moment was formed by Pharisees and Sadducees coming for baptism. He questioned their readiness to receive this sign of repentance: “Do not presume to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our ancestor’; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham.” In other words, to be a child of Abraham is no longer guaranteed automatically by one’s simple hereditary connection to the people of Israel according to the flesh, nor even by a position of prominence in that people. To be a child of Abraham is a miracle, worked by God with no more human collaboration than is provided by a stone, a miracle reflecting itself in a new kind of life, namely in works “worthy of repentance.” John is not preaching individualism; he is picturing a new kind of community whose common basis is a novel renewing work of God and not a common family heritage.
In a quite different context as reported in John’s Gospel, Jesus himself discusses the same topic with the Jews:
Again the contrast is the same. The true child of Abraham will, like Abraham, believe and obey God. He who does not believe and obey in this manner, whatever his genealogy, is not a son of Abraham but of the devil. Thus, sonship is identical with liberty; to be a Jew who is not a child of Abraham by faith and obedience is to be a slave to sin.
The third recurrence of the same pattern of thought is found again in a quite different connection, as Paul instructs the Christians of Galatia concerning the meaning of justification by faith. The promise given to Abraham was a promise based upon his faith. God was bound not to the law, not to the mechanical succession of children from father, but to the spiritual succession of believing obedience. Those who rest in faith are the true sons of Abraham. The promise of the covenant, promulgated in the day of Abraham, is ratified and made fully valid only in Christ whose response was perfect obedience and through him in those who believe.
Although the immediate issues with which Jesus and the writers were concerned in these three New Testament texts are varied, the presence of this striking parallelism of thought is evidence that it was not only a device of rhetoric or argument to which a preacher like Jesus or John or a teacher like Paul would refer just once in order to illustrate an argument. This was probably a standard line of thought in all of the New Testament church which, of course, needed to encounter the challenge of Judaism in every city.
What is here described is not individualism but a new kind of community, not a concentration upon the inner experience of guilt and forgiveness which an individual may feel but the incorporation of that individual into a fellowship of the forgiving and the forgiven. Certainly, in an age when modern individuals become more fully conscious of their personalities as individuals and of their feelings and consciousness as modern individuals, it will be appropriate that the increased consciousness of individual personality will find expression and meaning that coming to faith and baptism will have for the individual. But, to center our attention upon the fact that the baptism of individuals is especially fitting in the age of modern individualism and personalism is to shift the focus of the New Testament concern.
Also, at those points in the New Testament witness where baptism is not the issue, it is just as clear that we are to understand the meaning of the gospel as summed up in the creation of a new kind of community. When, in 1 Peter 2, the Christian fellowship is called a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a peculiar people, and told by an application of a quotation from the prophet Hosea that to “be now my people” is the equivalent of “having received grace,” the message is the same. The church of the New Testament does not simply pick up the heritage of Judaism according to the flesh and apply the same principle of ethnic continuity to a group founded upon a new doctrine. Rather, it creates a new principle of community and continuity.
Once again the same point is clear in Ephesians 3. Here, the apostle Paul describes the truth that both ...