II.
THE
OBLIGATION OF THE CHURCH RESPECTING THE HOLY SCRIPTURES.
By HENRY C. FISH, D.D.,
Pastor of First Baptist Church, Newark, N.J
I HAVE SET BEFORE THEE AN OPEN DOOR, AND NO MAN CAN SHUT IT: FOR THOU HAST A LITTLE STRENGTH, AND HAST KEPT MY WORD, AND HAST NOT DENIED MY NAME. BECAUSE THOU HAST KEPT THE WORD OF MY PATIENCE, I ALSO WILL KEEP THEE FROM THE HOUR OF TEMPTATION, WHICH SHALL COME UPON ALL THE WORLD, TO TRY THEM THAT DWELL UPON THE EARTH—REVELATION 3:8,10.
It is of the church at Philadelphia, one of the “Seven Churches” of Asia Minors that this was said. And history records a striking verification of the assurance here given. An “open door” was set before this church, which no one was able to shut. It was a door of deliverance, (“and consequently one of utterance,” such as Paul speaks of,) and looks to the trials here referred to, “the hour of temptation which was to come upon all the world”—all the Roman world. The ten years of fierce persecution under Trajan is commonly held to be this period of temptation. And it is an historic fact, that while all the other churches were laid waste, this one at Philadelphia was wonderfully kept. Its ministers were not martyred; its members were not scattered. It stood like a solitary column amid surrounding ruins.
But what is especially noticeable, is the reason assigned for this preservation of the church at Philadelphia: namely, its fidelity to the revealed will of Christ. “I have set before thee an open door, for thou hast a little strength, (thou feelest thy weakness,) and hast kept my word, and hast not denied my name.” And “Because thou hast kept the word of my patience, (my word enjoining and succouring patience,) I will also keep thee.” And this thought indicates the subject of the present discourse, which is Loyalty to Christ, or the Obligation of the Church to maintain revealed truth.
1. It must be maintained
against the SPECIOUS LIBERALISM OF THE TIMES.
Walking one day in New York, I saw in a shop-window a sign reading thus: “Liberal
books for independent thinkers.” It was a symbol of the age. Changing,
as he does, his methods of attack, the great enemy of truth and righteousness
does not appear, in our day, in the form of the unbeliefs so common in the centuries
gone by. The cold, critical atheism of the English deists and French philosophers
of the eighteenth century, which denied, outright, a revelation, and deified
human Reason, and treated Christianity with scorn and sarcasm is not now widely
prevalent. Nor have we much to fear from that form of infidelity which, in later
years, has sought its support in the alleged discrepancies between the Bible
and the natural sciences. The skepticism of today takes the garb of religion.
It is respectful toward Christianity. It affects reverence for sacred things.
It would not do to scout devotion: man needs a religion; and so Satan would
give him one that is better than that of the Bible. The Bible is not to be discarded:
that were impolitic; but, then, it must be received with certain allowances.
Some of its parts are to be rejected as mythical, and others must be interpreted
according to an “enlightened understanding!” Scripture terms are to
be retained, but, then, they are to have their particular meaning. And by affecting
to be religious, this species of infidelity is spreading like a malaria. It
is infecting multitudes who are surrounded by seemingly Christian influences.
Our young men especially, and among them, numbers of the most prominent and
influential, are imbibing, to a fearful extent, this delicious poison. It is
seen in the frequent assertion that man is his own saviour; that he must win
heaven for himself; and that (to quote from the papers of a popular Review)
“to believe that a trust in a blood of atonement can cleanse a corrupt
nature, and redeem a lost soul, is to believe sorcery.” It is seen in the
rapidly increasing tendency to smooth down the sterner attributes of Deity;
to say but little, and that softly, about future punishment; and to form an
ideal Christ, possessed of grace, but not of justice and holiness. It is seen
in the swift advance of one wing of Unitarianism into downright infidelity,
and the institution of a “Broad Church,” where Swedenborgians, Unitarians,
Universalists, Friends, and Independents—all sorts of beliefs and unbeliefs,
may thrive in amicable neighborhood in one inclosure. It is seen in the general
loosening up of the common mind from the moorings of great Scripture truths,
and its readiness to adopt the vagaries of spiritism, and mesmerism, and whatever
isms and ologies may chance to present themselves. It is seen in the war against
a sound divinity, that is urged on under the outcry against “merciless
dogmas,” and “straight-laced creeds,” and “dead formularies,”
and “shams,” and “priestcraft,” and “intolerance”
in religion; and in the disposition among the churches to think lightly of the
great doctrines of the Bible, and of carefully defined systems, if not to cast
away entirely all articles of faith; and also, in the readiness of some to disregard
the divinely established relation between the ordinances.
What is styled the liberty of the church, comes from the same spirit. Says a distinguished Congregational divine, in a sermon recently published, “I concede and I assert, first, that infant baptism is nowhere commanded in the New Testament. Secondly, I affirm that the cases where it is implied, as in the baptism of whole households, are by no means conclusive and without doubt, and that, if there is no other basis for it than that, it is not safe to found it on the practice of the apostles in the baptism of Christian families. Therefore, I give up that which has been injudiciously used as an argument for infant baptism. And thirdly, I assert that the doctrine, that as a Christian ordinance it is a substitute for the circumcision of the Jews, is a doctrine that is utterly untenable, to say nothing more. If any body ask me, ‘Where is your text for baptizing children?’ I reply that there is none. And if I am asked, ‘Then why do you baptize them?’ I say, ‘Because it is found to be beneficial.’”—[Henry Ward Beecher]
The same liberty is claimed, of course, in respect to the Lord’s supper. Those who are held to be unbaptized, and even unconverted, (if only seeking the truth,) are invited to partake. The number of ministers, and churches, in different denominations, who assert views substantially like these, is not small, and is constantly increasing. Nor is it to be thought strange. Though less emphatically proclaimed, this “liberty” with the Scriptures has been generally assumed as allowable. Professor Stuart, in his work on Baptism, quoted approvingly Calvin’s remark: “It is of no consequence at all whether the person baptized is wholly immersed or merely sprinkled, although the word baptized signifies Immerse, and the rite of immersion was practiced by the ancient church.” And in the matter of Infant Baptism, he (Professor Stuart) frankly said: “Commands, or plain and certain examples, in the New Testament relative to it, I do not find;” adding, “Nor, with my views of it, do I need them.”
All this chimes in admirably with the taking catchwords,—“Liberal books for independent thinkers.” But how does it suit the standard by which all opinions are to be tried? How does all this tally with God’s orderings, and God’s word? It is written: “There is one Lord one faith, one baptism.” One; not two, or three, or any number, and all equally correct. And particularly, there is one faith; that is, one system of belief; one precise set of truths and principles, ordained and established by God. It must be so. Had God made two diverse revelations, one must have been wrong. In accepting the one we must have rejected the other. Both could not be right. Hence it is a peculiarity of truth, that it is simple, absolute, certain; while error is manifold and uncertain. Truth is simply the revelation of God’s will; and as such, it must be definite and fixed. It cannot change or be modified, any more than can his nature. It must stand perfect and entire forever.
Truth is the most exclusive of all things. It is a tower of adamant. It yields not an inch. It concedes nothing. “Truth, sir,” said Henry Clay, “makes no compromises!” Hence any alleged doctrine of Scripture, which is not exclusive, is no doctrine; it knows nothing, affirms nothing. It is a weak device of Satan. God did not put it in the Bible. What he put there is flint. It is diamond, with sharp angles, cutting every thing, cut by nothing. It shuts out every thing else, and says, “I am from God! I am right, and all besides is wrong!” From its very nature it must be so.
And, then, let it be remembered that God has a right to say what shall be. He sits supreme. Man, his workmanship, and his care, is subject to his dictation and control. He is to have no will and no way of his own. One thing is demanded, that he bow to his sovereign behest. God’s government is not a republican government. And for that very reason earthly governments ought to be republican. If he be Head Supreme, there ought to be no other pretended head supreme. God’s government is an absolute monarchy, and for that reason no man can be an absolute monarch. Both in the world and in the church, “there is one law-giver.” God is over all. Every necessary foundation truth he has established, either as respects the world or the church. Men have but to execute what he has ordained. Law-making, then, so far as it infringes upon great cardinal principles, on the part of man, is a wicked presumption. The revelation of man or angel is no revelation. If God has instituted certain relations between me and my fellow, and laid on us certain obligations, who shall change them? If, in things spiritual, he has said, upon such conditions man shall die, and upon such he shall live; and if, in his churches, he has established his laws and ordinances, what have men to do in modifying or annulling them? That is not their business; if they make any new laws, then they are to be regarded as no laws. Setting up their appointments in opposition to God’s is disloyalty. Liberalism is therefore atheism. It is casting off God’s yoke. “Liberal” books and teachings, untying what God has bound together, and divulging new principles, are insurrective, mutinous, seditious. They are the highest insult to God, especially when they come into the domain of religion. There is one faith—one system of truths. Any other faith is no faith. It is God’s prerogative to make a creed for man. And all his “independent thinking” will not change one of the great facts and principles which he has established.
Was not this so regarded at the first? Standing at the early times, one is struck with the fact that the revealed religion was altogether positive and uncompromising. It was forbidden to Judaism, under the most fearful penalties, to affiliate with the false theologies of the surrounding nations. And when, in the new era, Christianity went forth on its sublime career, how did it refuse to symbolize with paganism! How high and exclusive its demands!—not willing to give and to take, for the sake of adjustment, but claiming and demanding unlimited control. Paganism would have gladly voted for Christ a seat with the other gods on Olympus, and for his religion a place in the Pantheon among the other religions of the day; but Christianity said, “No!” It spurned the proffer, and gave battle to every opposing system, and demanded exclusive headship for Christ—his complete enthronement as God over all.
And then, looking into the Scriptures, how positively and sharply defined is the truth, as laid down by Christ and his apostles. As to the way of salvation, we read, “I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh to the Father but by me.” “He that believeth not shall be damned.” “If any man love not the Lord Jesus Christ let him be anathema.” And as regards taking liberties with the divine ordinances, and virtually or formally modifying the exact written record, we read, “Teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you;” and “if any man shall add unto these things, God shall add unto him the plagues that are written in this book. And if any man shall take away from the words of the book of this prophecy, God shall take away his part out of the book of life, and out of the holy city, and from the things which are written in this book.”
Even the amiable and beloved John speaks in language the most polemic and intolerant, as men would term it, for he says, we are not even to countenance the bearer of strange doctrines: “If there come any unto you, and bring not this doctrine, receive him not into your houses, neither bid him God speed.” And the bold denunciation of Paul was: “Though we, or an angel from heaven, preach any other gospel unto you than that we have preached unto you, let him be accursed.” And, as if to render it more emphatic, he repeats it: “As we said before, so say I now again: If any man preach any other gospel unto you, let him be accursed”! How world-wide all this from that spurious charitableness which would condemn nobody as wrong; which is so careful about other’s feelings as never to say they are in an error; which makes one hesitate to say, “I know I am right,” and which covers his own timid, cautious, half-formed notions with the plea, “There are good people holding all kinds of religious opinions!” In particular, how far removed all this from that vaunted “liberality” which makes one religion as good as another, only so its possessor be sincere! which honors Jesus Christ, and just as much honors Confucius, and Zoroaster, and Socrates, and Mohammed! which respects Paul, and Peter, and James, but would by no means condemn Arius, and Socinus, and Emerson, and Brownson, and Theodore Parker, and Hosea Ballou! which believes in the Bible, but would not say that the teachings of the Hindoo Vedas, and the Rabbinical writers, and of Emanuel Swedenborg are wrong; and which believes that the followers of Christ will be saved, but will not dare to affirm that those who reject him and follow strange guides, will be lost! Or which, in respect to the sacraments, asserts that “an ox yoke is as strictly an ordinance as is baptism,” as a popular divine, before referred to, declares.
We have not so learned Christ. If such liberties are to be taken with the Scriptures; if such laxity of interpretation is to prevail—such tampering with plain truths—then nothing can be settled, much less remain settled. We are all adrift, without compass, rudder, or chart, and may well despair of either ascertaining or enforcing scriptural obligations. This tendency must be counteracted. Every lover of truth should especially consider himself “set for the defence of the gospel,” when it is thus in danger of depreciation. It was once a trick of rogues to gouge out portions of gold coin, by plowing into the edge, and then so filling up and galvanizing over the groove as to make detection almost impossible. The coins were still current, but sadly depreciated. Let it not be so of doctrines. A high duty is that, especially reposed in ministers, of keeping every scriptural verity up to its original standard; of preserving the integrity of the gospel as it is understood by the people; of having an eye upon those who, Joab like, profess friendship for sacred truth, but slyly thrust it through under the fifth rib. Let us “earnestly contend for the faith once delivered to the saints.” Let us love the truth with such ardor as to be compelled to say with the excellent Dr. Nevins, “I bear to error a degree of the same hatred which I feel toward sin, and am determined to persecute the one as I do the other.”
2. The truth is to be
maintained against FALLACIOUS SCHEMES OF CHRISTIAN UNION.
It is unmistakable that a deeper and more fervent desire for intimate and visible
union among Christians of different denominations exists now than in former
years. All good men rejoice in this yearning of kindred hearts for closer fellowship.
It is one of the favorable signs of the times. Let it be cultivated and cherished
in every becoming way. But, in the meantime, it should not be forgotten that
there may be unity in variety; that unity does not of necessity suppose sameness.
There is not identity in the works of creation; and yet there is wonderful unity.
There is not sameness in any of the works of God; but there is harmony—harmony
in diversity. So may there be among Christians much diversity and yet a real
unity. A true union, therefore, already exists among the people of God. If Rome
asks where is the unity of Protestantism? we say, behold it in heart, in aim,
and, to a happy extent, in opinion. We are all, of whatever name, renewed by
the same Spirit; we have the same hopes and fears; we look up to the same God
and Father; we trust in the same almighty Saviour; we are in sympathy with the
same object—the saving of souls, and the building up of Christ’s kingdom,
and cheerfully co-operate in promoting this object; and upon many points, and
those the most vital, we hold the same views. So that there is, after all, in
Protestantism, a real and true unity. The great thing to be aimed at is, for
religious denominations to live in peace, and love one another, despite their
differences. Let them teach and preach fully what they believe to be truth,
but let it be the speaking of truth in love. “Whereunto they have attained,
let them walk by the same rule; let them mind the same thing.” If half
the time and energy spent by some in efforts to break down ecclesiastical enclosures
which they do not like, were wisely employed in efforts to awaken more real
love in the several denominations one toward another, there would be a great
gain to the cause of truth.
One thing is clear: there should be no unity at the expense of truth. However ardently outward unity in the truth is to be desired, any agreement, except in the truth, would be precarious in its nature, and at the same time traitorous to Christ. In such a unity, somebody must have betrayed him; somebody has got rid of his conscience; somebody has sacrificed truth; for here opposites meet, and two beliefs, in some respects essentially hostile, are dwelling in loving embrace. Calvin, in the preface to one of his polemical tracts, insists that disagreement may proceed without any violation of charity; and to the outcry that the unity of the church is rent in pieces, he makes a noble reply, which is especially worthy of note just now, when so much is said about ecclesiastical union, and when some people seem to think that if all denominations would only shake hands together, and sit down once in a while and commune with each other, the millennium would have already come! “We acknowledge,” says Calvin, “no unity except in Christ, and no charity of which he is not the bond; and, therefore, the chief point in preserving charity is to maintain faith sacred and entire.” Let this be remembered: “The chief point in preserving charity is to maintain faith sacred and entire.”
Such an outward unity, whose basis is the cordial adoption of all the teachings of Christ, every one should pray for; but any other unity falsifies itself, and should be looked upon with distrust. I agree on this point most heartily with a clergyman of the Church of England: “From the peace which is bought at the expense of truth, may the good Lord deliver us!” One particle of truth in God’s sight is of infinite moment; and were we to relinquish it for some seeming advantage, we might almost expect to hear a voice from heaven, crying out, “First loyal, then liberal!” “Behold to obey is better than sacrifice!” The command is, “First pure, then peaceable.” And I protest against calling any man who inflexibly holds to what he in conscience believes to be a truth of God’s word, “a bigot,” “a sectarian,” an “uncharitable man.” Perchance he is tenacious of a great principle, now calumniated and assailed, but yet of vital moment; and perchance, because he loves those from whom he differs, therefore he persists in telling them the truth; for that is a sound maxim, “The greatest charity consists in telling the greatest amount of truth.” He must be a very shallow thinker, or a very dishonest reasoner, who advocates conciliation by compromise, in the realm of moral truth. It looks well, but it is a specious deception. Its voice is the voice of Jacob, but its hands are the hands of Esau.
Herein is justified our denominational position in respect to the order of God’s house. While extending Christian fellowship to all who love our common Lord, church fellowship is restricted to baptized believers. We are blamed for this; and never was there such a pressure upon us to break down this “hated enclosure” as now; and the plea is that there may be Christian unity. It is even urged that we have accomplished our mission as Baptists, and should merge into other denominations. And it is gravely asked, “What difference is there between us? and what separates us except a little water?” To all which and every thing like it, we answer, It is for the sake of the truth that we stand where we do. It is not that we love our respected brethren of other names less, but that we love the Master and the truth more. Freely acknowledging that they hold the cardinal points of the “one faith,” we yet maintain that, they reject the “one baptism,” and receive instead an ordinance of man. And we maintain, moreover, that from their theory of infant church-membership, the truths which they do hold are held insecurely.
Three times has the very citadel of the “one faith” been seized by the enemy, from his having carried, beforehand, the outworks which the Baptists would sacredly guard—from his having demolished the instituted safeguard around the church—“believer’s baptism.” This was first effected in the great apostasy of the middle ages, which is undeniably attributable to the introduction of unconverted material into the church, by means of infant baptism, as it is called. Most truly is it said of Anti-christ, in a Waldensian writing dating back at least to the year 1100: “He (Antichrist) arrived at maturity when men whose hearts were set upon the world multiplied in the church, and by the union of church and state, got the power of both into their hands.” And then it is added (which explains the fact): “He teaches us to baptize children into the faith,” etc. Thus was the “one faith” well nigh swept from the earth. It was effected a second time, subsequent to the Reformation. Luther and his coadjutors did not carry the reform far enough. They retained the error of birth-right church-membership, and it shortly brought into the Reformed churches a flood of corruption, which almost obliterated, on the fields of their grandest triumphs, the work of those noble men. And today, what are Oncken and Wiberg and their brethren in Germany and Sweden doing, but reforming the Reformation; but recovering the citadel of truth—justification by faith alone—and building up around it, for defence, the walls of a converted church? The third success of the enemy, in the way described, was in our own New England, previous to the times of President Edwards and Whitefleld, when evangelical piety had almost died out. Dr. Joel Hawes, of Hartford, in his work entitled “A Tribute to the Pilgrims,” attempts to account for this deplorable circumstance; and mentions, as a chief cause, the introduction of the half-way covenant, by which “the children of unconverted persons (but yet of sober lives and owning the covenant) might be baptized.” By this means, multitudes of unsanctified persons (yet desiring to bring their children to the sealing ordinances) came to be church members. And it soon transpired that these unconverted parents and their unconverted offspring, all in the church together, were having things their own way. The preaching conformed to this state of things, and religion sunk into a routine of cold formalities. Says the late Dr. Archibald Alexander, of Princeton, in his Lectures, as to the times of which I speak: “It was very much a matter of course for all who had been, baptized in infancy to be received into communion at the proper age, without exhibiting or possessing any satisfactory evidence of a change of heart. The habit of the preachers was to address their people as though they were all pious, and only needed instruction and confirmation.” As you see, the egg from which this destructive viper was hatched, was the dogma of infant church-membership.
Now this dogma the Baptists strenuously oppose, and always have opposed, since its existence. And their healthful opposition is still needful. The error in question is still maintained. Dr. William A. Stearns, now President of Amherst College, in his work on infant church-membership, says: “Baptized children are in the same inclosure with the parents, and are equally members of the church, long before they make any profession of their faith. Properly speaking, the question can never come up, whether they shall join the church. They belong already, and a profession of religion with them is simply their own most hearty acknowledgment of this fact, and of the obligations it implies.” Dr. Charles Hodge, in the Princeton Review of 1858, says: “The status of baptized children is not a vague or uncertain one, according to the doctrine of the Reformed churches. They are members of the church; they are professing Christians; they belong presumptively to the number of the elect.” To these high authorities, representing the New and the Old School Presbyterians, none others need be added. Now with this old and fearful error of infant church-membership still retained (and there is not a denomination in Christendom free from it, except the Baptist), who will say that among our Pedobaptist brethren the soul and essence of the “one faith” is held securely? Who will undertake to guarantee that a growth of fearfully corrupt opinions and practices shall not again crop out from this mischievous germ?
From this point of observation, it is plain that we yet have, as Baptists, a mission. It is ours to neutralize this leaven, and prevent its permeating the whole lump. Strong, intelligent, respectable, the churches of other names around us nevertheless feel our influence, and are largely indebted to it for their existing purity and efficiency. When, therefore, we are asked, “What special mission have you as distinct from ourselves?” we answer, “To prevent your errors from again going to seed.” It was when Unitarianism, subsequent to the days of Edwards, had almost wholly subverted the “Orthodox” church in New England, that from the then existing and strictly evangelical Baptist churches in Boston, there went out a redeeming influence—a revival of pure religion. To that influence, every denomination and church is today indebted. And if a similar service to the cause of the truth shall not again be required, it will be owing largely to the steady working of the strong conservative power of our churches. Here, then, is sufficient reason for maintaining our present denominational position. It will be seen that something more than “a little water” divides us from those whom we yet love as Christians. It is a difference upon the radical question as to who shall be received to baptism, and acknowledged as members in Christ’s church. We say believers—they, believers and their unbelieving children. We cannot walk in church fellowship with those who thus persist in modeling the Christian church after the Hebrew commonwealth, instead of the pattern given in the New Testament. We must, for the truth’s sake, continue to protest against so grave an error.
Besides, this “little water,” as it is called, carries with it more than is sometimes supposed. In objecting to our course as to communion, Dr. H. A. Boardman of Philadelphia, in his sermon on Christian union, says: “You” (Baptists) “believe that our Saviour has prescribed one form of baptism. We believe that he has prescribed another form.” In this he falls into the mistake (common to his brethren on this subject) that it is a “form of baptism” for which we contend. This we deny. It is not mode, not form, but the thing itself. In our view, there cannot be scriptural baptism without immersion. No immersion, no baptism. And, surely, we could not be asked to commune at the table with those whom we consider unbaptized—a thing which no denomination of which I speak does, or has a right to do. They all alike ask for what they believe to be baptism, before communion. This is all we do. We only ask for what we believe to be baptism—valid baptism. And we insist on this, not out of a sectarian spirit, but simply because it is demanded by Christ. It is one of his positive laws, and is not to be treated with indifference. We hold that we have no more right to dispense with baptism as preceding the communion, or to change the relative place of the ordinance, than to dispense with or change the most important point of faith. In this sense, there are no non-essentials. We have no right to say, “This command of Christ’s is important; that is not important.” We are to conform to “all righteousness,” i. e., all God’s righteous requirements.
And we are tenacious as to this matter of baptism on other grounds. When John Hooper, more than three hundred years ago, was answering before young King Edward for refusing to wear the vestments of a bishop, to which office he had just been appointed, he insisted that these vestments were the inventions of men, and introduced into the church in its corruptest ages; moreover, that they were badges of a priesthood, and that as the priesthood of Aaron was done away by Christ’s sacrifice of himself, once for all, priestly array was now sanctioning a lie and a blasphemy. And he also insisted that the people did still think these vestments to have some magical effect, so that without them divine service was vain. For these reasons, he said, they ought not to be worn. And when Cranmer, the, archbishop, replied, “The vestments are respected by the clergy, and have descended through many generations,” he insisted that this respect was not a sufficient warrant in religious matters, and that usage and tradition were not authority. And when it was said, “This is a small matter; what harm can there be in a cape, a surplice, a cap, a tippet?” he retorted: “Albeit they be only dumb rags, yet they be written all over with mass! mass! They be the symbols of Antichrist! They be the scarlet woman’s livery!” And he cried, “Avaunt with her badges!” And sooner than put them on, he took imprisonment—first, in his own house, then with the stern archbishop, and finally, in the Fleet Prison, where he lay two months in a cell “with a little grated window in it, and a lone deal table with a bit of bread and a mug of water upon it.”
Might we not, on the same grounds, refuse to accept of or sanction sprinkling, and its application to children? We believe and affirm that it is of Romish origin. And we have the authorities of the world with us. A remarkable testimony has recently been given by that eminent and learned scholar of the English Church, and Professor of Church History at Oxford, Dr. Stanley. It occurs in his History of the Eastern Church. Speaking of baptism, as practised in the Eastern Church, Dr. Stanley says: “There can be no question that the original form of baptism—the very meaning of the word—was complete immersion in deep baptismal waters; and that, for at least four centuries, any other form was either unknown, or regarded, unless in the case of dangerous illness, as an exceptional, almost a monstrous case. To this form, the Eastern Church still rigidly adheres, and the most illus-trious and venerable portion of it, that of the Byzantine Empire, absolutely repudiates and ignores any other mode of administration as essentially invalid.” After making the above statement, Dr. Stanley proceeds to say that the Latin Church changed the mode of baptism on its own authority, without even attempting to plead the teachings of Scripture, or primitive usage; and that now the only witness for the scriptural mode of baptism among the Romanists is the church at Milan; and among Protestants, the Baptists.
With authorities like this to sustain us, are we not justified in affirming that sprinkling is from Rome, and in taking up against it the very argument of Hooper as to the surplice? “This practice is one of the inventions of men, and introduced into the church in its corrupt ages. Moreover, it is in imitation of the priesthood—of a dispensation that has passed away.” And we surely might add, that “the people, multitudes of them, do still believe that it has some magical effect in it, without which all their services (as to the salvation of their children) are vain.” And when it is said to us, “But this practice is respected by the clergy, and has descended through many generations,” we might answer, “This is not a sufficient warrant in religious matters; and tradition is not authority.” And when it is said, “This is a small matter, only a little water, dropped in a moment from the fingers upon a child’s face,” we might reply, “Albeit it is only a dumb ceremony, yet it is written all over with Rome! Rome! It is a symbol of Antichrist! It belongs to the scarlet woman’s livery! Avaunt with her badges!”
And it is worth mentioning just here, that any branch of Protestantism, marshaling an array of battle against Rome, can scarce expect success while wearing a conspicuous part of the uniform of that hated power: proofs of which we have seen in the controversy of some champions of Protestantism with Romish ecclesiastics, and which the Romanists themselves have often admitted. Bishop Bailey, of Newark, New Jersey, recently said to a minister of a Pedobaptist denomination: “We Romanists have little to fear from you: the controversy is not between us and you: it is with the Baptists. There are but two parties in the contest, ourselves and the Baptists.” This was a frank confession, and we commend it to the consideration of those who speak evil of us. In assailing us, they are committing a greater mistake than when the Union soldiers in the late war several times ignorantly fired upon their own comrades. The Baptists are the very vanguard, the advance line, the assaulting column, in the fight against Rome. Viewed in this light, there is no injustice like that done to the Baptists. When Protestants assail us, they are injuring their best friends and defenders. Could Rome destroy the Baptists, she would hold jubilee, and fix another carnival week in her calendar. What double injustice, then, to us and to themselves, when Protestants would do us harm.
But, treat us as they may, we cannot accept as scriptural a rite of man’s appointment. We cannot be parties to an act whereby a divine ordinance is displaced. Nations have their escutcheons, their crests, their monuments, and ensigns. Armies and navies have their shields and banners; and families their badges and coats of arms. Their object is to express and cluster into a close compass some certain qualities or events, giving them resemblance in these devices. And we know what associations gather around these devices, and how sacredly they are regarded, and how proudly they are displayed. Now, baptism is a device, a badge, a coat of arms, so to speak, in Christ’s kingdom. It was chosen and appointed by Christ, to express and to cluster into a close compass certain truths and certain events, by means of resemblances—as when the washing in the pure water shows our inward cleansing; or, our being buried in it, and rising from it, our death to sin and rising to a new life; as also (and particularly) the burial and resurrection of our Redeemer. And it is against the expunging of this sacred device that we protest. For this, deem us not “illiberal!” Call it not “narrow-mindedness” when we avow our attachment to the genuine old family badge! Ask the Italians to give up their tri-colored flag, the long-forbidden, green, red, and white! Urge that it is only a few square yards of coarse bunting, and of no value. You know the answer! Then pardon our attachment to this ancient symbol, invested with associations which touch whatever is deep and tender in the heart. Demand of the Queen of Britain, or of one of her loyal subjects, if you may not pluck away the unicorn or the lion from her national escutcheon, or expunge one of the mottos written there. You know the answer! Then chide us not, if we will restrain the hand that would mar this device of our Sovereign’s kingdom! Ask the people of Massachusetts if you may not cast down her monument on Bunker’s Hill, or go up and efface some of its inscriptions. You know the answer! Then marvel not if we cry, “Hold! Hold!” to those who would demolish this memorial column, or wipe out its record of the conflicts and triumphs of our King. You would honor the American soldier who would sooner receive the sword of the invader in his bosom than exchange uniforms, or see the flag of his country insulted. Honor our loyalty, then, who, at some sacrifices now (and more in the ages gone by), would save from affront this old significant symbol of Christian baptism, borne aloft on so many a hard fought field, by men of iron nerve and adamantine faith!
These are our reasons why we can neither give up our identity, nor coalesce with others in church fellowship; which, it maybe added, would be found to be, in the end, equivalent to giving up our identity, as observation and a sound logic would show.
Here, then, amid whatever of opposition or misconstruction or reproach, we are called upon patiently to stand as a testimony to the truth. As we understand it, there is no alternative. Nor can the charge of exclusiveness be brought against us. We are the excluded, not the excluding party. If a business firm, or an organization of any kind, be rent by the introduction of new rules and regulations, the innovators, not those who stood by the old rules, are responsible for the division. So here. It cannot be charged that unity is broken by those who stand to the rule, but rather by those who depart from it, or come not up to it. And coming up to the rule, and this alone, will restore it. Unity on the basis of dispensing with the rule, instead of being a unity of subjection to Christ, were a combination against him; an agreement to treat with contempt his laws. The Lord keep us from such unity! Better a thousand times our existing Christian sects, than disloyalty to the truth! And if there are consequences for a time seemingly calamitous, let us remember that God does not ask us to share with him the responsibilities of his government. Our duty is to obey. He will take care of the consequences. If it is his will that there ever shall exist an outward unity in all particulars among his people on earth, he will, in his own good time, indicate the methods of its accomplishment.
Moreover, for our encouragement, let us remember that the church of Christ has always been strongest when most uncompromising. The “Broad Church” project, realizing the idea of a liberal, roomy comprehensiveness, endeavoring to conciliate opposition by making concessions, has always, and in every form, proved a miserable failure. Strength, impregnability, aggressive power—these features of the church have been seen in her, not when her creed has been, like the hatter’s conformatory, shaping and fitting itself to everybody’s head; not when her pulpit has been ready to produce truth “to order,” as the clothier does his garments; not when she has abated her claims and concealed her objectionable features, but when bold, authoritative, absolute, unyielding. It is a proposition capable of being sustained, that just in proportion as the church of Christ, desiring to enlarge her door, to increase her members, and to show herself generous and liberal, has endeavored to put off her exclusiveness, just in that proportion she has put off her power and lost her energy, and, in the end, her influence. Not to go further, what an illustration of this is found in our own denominational history! When young Eugenio Kincaid, now our veteran missionary, went to an old Baptist itinerant preacher to get some book to settle his mind upon the subject of baptism, and the aged man gave him one from his saddlebags, Eugenio thought he had made a mistake, and ventured to say, “Did you not give me the wrong book, sir? I see this is the New Testament.” Stretching himself up at full length, and looking Kincaid fairly in the face, the white-haired patriarch sternly said: “Young man! if you want any better book on baptism than the Bible, don’t come to me!” It was a representative act. We have been built up by the New Testament. We have grown because we have held it uncompromisingly. How striking the words of the text, as a statement of our denominational experience! Is it too much to believe that the master had his eye upon us when he uttered them? “I know thy works: behold, I have set before thee an open door, and no man can shut it; for thou hast a little strength, and hast kept my word, and hast not denied my name. Behold, I will make them of the synagogue of Satan, which say they are Jews, and are not, but do lie; behold, I will make them to come and worship before thy feet, and to know that I have loved thee. Because thou hast kept the word of my patience, I also will keep thee from the hour of temptation, which shall come upon all the world, to try them that dwell upon the earth.” How has he kept us, amid sharp and long temptations! How has he set before us an open door, which no one has been able to shut! How has he multiplied us, until we have the largest number of communicants of any one Evangelical body in the world! Surely, it has been for this reason (it could have been for none other), that, feeling ourselves possessed of but a little strength, we have yet resolutely clung to and kept the Divine word.
So must it continue, if our future be worthy of the past. We are essentially a reforming body, and hence cannot be popular. Ceasing to be challengers and champions of the truth, it would find other representatives, and leave us behind, as mummies of a buried life, fossilized relics of a heroic race, that was, and is not. Believe me—if true to our mission, we shall yet be hated even of our brethren. It is better to expect it; and those who are faint-hearted, let them fall out of the ranks. Indeed, it is a sorrowful and humiliating thought that any Baptist can turn his back upon his own churches, and cast himself into the arms of a Pedobaptist church, where his influence is against what he holds to be the truth, and in support of what he believes to be error. But a multitude, praised be God, instead of faltering, will bind reproach to their brow as a shining diadem, and exultingly declare with Paul, “I glory in mine infirmities; for when I am weak, then I am strong!” They will persist in the old habit of demanding a “Thus saith the Lord,” and say with Cyprian, the eminent Latin Father of the third century: “God hath testified that we are to do those things that are written: whence have you that tradition? If it be in the Gospels or the Epistles, then let us observe it.” And with Cyril, of the fourth century: “It behoveth us not to believe the very least thing of the sacred mysteries of faith without the Holy Scriptures. This is the security of our faith, not what is delivered of our own inventions, but what is demonstrated from the Holy Scriptures.” And with Jerome, who survived twenty years of the fifth century: “Those things which, without the authorities and testimonies of the Scriptures, men invent of their own heads, as from Apostolic traditions, are smitten of the sword of God.” The hearts of growing numbers will thrill with responsive feeling to Luther’s brave words, when, upon the Pope’s bull of excommunication, they began to burn his books—“Let them destroy my works; I desire nothing better; for all I wanted was to lead Christians to the Bible, that they might afterward throw away my writings. Great God! if we had but a right understanding of the Holy Scriptures, what need would there be of my books?” And to the equally grand utterance of that noble reformer and martyr, Bishop Hooper, before referred to, who did not much care what company he kept, only so he was on the side of truth declaring, “I had rather follow the shadow of Christ, than the body of all the general councils or doctors since the death of Christ.” “It is mine opinion,” he adds, “unto all the world, that the Scriptures solely, and the apostles’ church, is to be followed, and no man’s authority, be he Tertullian or even cherubim or seraphim.” Men of this high-souled loyalty to revealed truth we welcome to our ranks. Come, and let us be fellow-helpers to the truth. Come, and let us bear the reproach of Jesus. Come, and let us accept and verify what Rouge uttered as a slur, “If Roman Catholics have a Pope at Rome, Protestants have made a Pope of a Book!” Come, and let us gird ourselves for a religious contest, both sure and soon to come, unparalleled since the days of the great reformation, between Inspiration only, and Inspiration with “church liberty” and tradition. Come, and let us make yet more formidable Rome’s acknowledged foe. Come, and let us combine, with higher aims and a holier and deeper enthusiasm, to justify the Baptist position, and to pioneer the way of all the churches up to that point where shall be solved what Schenkel terms “The Protestant church problem, namely, to incorporate the particular churches into the one true church—and so to identify the church of the believing with the church of the baptized.” Nor can the issue be doubtful: for in the language of Hubmeyer, that learned and eloquent Baptist reformer and martyr, whose voice comes sounding down to us through almost four centuries—“Divine truth is immortal; it may, perhaps, for long, be bound, scourged, crucified, and, for a season, be entombed in the grave; but, on the third day, it will rise again victorious, and rule triumphant forever.”