IV.

BAPTISM.

By REV. G. D. B. PEPPER,

Professor in Newton Theological Institution.

“GOD is a spirit, and they that worship him must worship him in spirit and in truth.”

These words express the pre-eminent spirituality of the Christian religion. It does not consist in forms and ceremonies, and the soul that has experienced its divine power can never submit to the bondage of mere ritualism. To speak in defence of such bondage is to war against the Holy Spirit.

But to me it has fallen to address you concerning the rite known as baptism. And is not baptism an externality? It is, and is not. It is; but it is also more. It is an externality, as human language is. The words which we utter—what are they but vibrations in the air, caused by certain movements of the vocal organs? These words written—what are they but forms traced in ink upon paper for the eye? The highest attainment of language in discourse—is it any thing more than combinations of these words? Is not language, then, an externality? What is it in our galleries of art which draws to them the sons of genius and the daughters of taste, and there holds them charmed and enchained? Do you say it is the pictures and statues, creations of immortal mind? But what are pictures but paint upon canvas? And what are statues but marble quarried and chiseled? And surely paint and marble are external and material things. Many a strong man in our army during the last four years, in hours of crisis and encounter, has been thrilled with intensest enthusiasm as his eyes have seen, waving above the embattled host and moving toward the rebel array, a certain old, familiar, starred and striped flag—and in that inspiration has been a courage which mocked at fear and courted death. There is no American heart which has not shared this noble enthusiasm, within which the sight and even thought of our flag has not kindled a glow of patriotic emotion, and wakened all its latent poetry. But that flag, lauded, loved, and sung—what is it but a piece of bunting, red, white, and blue? Far enough that, surely, from the spiritual. Language an externality! Yes, save when charged and vitalized with human thought and human emotion. Then it is life and spirit. The statue and the painting, when embodying grand ideals, have ceased to be material. Our flag, as symbol of national character, national history, national all, is no longer a piece of bunting, but a glory, almost a protecting divinity. Baptism, which, viewed in one way, is baldly outward, a mere rite and ceremony, viewed otherwise, and truly, is at once a language intensely charged with God’s richest thought and sweetest affection; an incarnation of our Redeemer’s fondest, brightest ideal; and the symbol of all that makes existence glorious. We are not, therefore, led away from the central, moving realities of our holy religion by a discussion of baptism. We rather stand for an hour in the presence of that form which best reveals to the eye those realities, and most naturally and effectually leads to them our spirits. Most unbecoming, therefore, would be an apology for speaking to you upon baptism. Most unjust to you would be the suspicion that you would not listen with closest attention to whatever would place the subject in its true light.

I have already indicated, that we may use the term baptism in a broader sense, and in a more limited sense. The latter includes only that which goes to constitute the external rite. But this purely external rite, whatever it may or may not be, has its design, and there is a spirit befitting its observance. This design and this spirit may not be absent from the rite, for without these it is null. Our government has prescribed an oath of allegiance, to be taken by certain persons. It is plainly essential to the complete idea of the oath, both that the prescribed form be used, and that it be used for the one express purpose of avowing loyalty, in all good faith and honesty. The form, or external act, required by the government, may, in a restricted sense, be called the oath. It is, indeed, a part, and an essential part. But as merely external, it is the body. There is needed, also, the inspiring soul—the indwelling life. So baptism has its body and its soul. Baptism, in its fullness, is not body only—is not soul only; but it is body and soul, soul in body, body informed by soul. Now, both in thought and in fact, these two can be separated. We can conceive of the outward by itself, and it is the outward which we are now to discuss. In this discussion it must be assumed, that Christ’s appointments are of divine authority. To this principle we hold fast throughout.

1. My first proposition is, that Christ instituted for his disciples an external rite called baptism.

The first meaning of the word institute, as given by Webster, is “to establish, to appoint, to enact, to form and prescribe: as to institute laws; to institute rules and regulations.” The idea is two-fold. It is that of both appointment and requirement. It is to designate some act, and command its performance, as in legislation. An enactment of Congress is not simply description, but also law. In this sense Christ instituted for his disciples an outward rite, which was called baptism. He both prescribed, or designated, the rite, and commanded its observance. He determined the outward act, and made it law.

Plainly, this is not to say, that he originated the act, devising something new, and unlike any thing in existence before. This conception is by no means necessary. Our Congress may enact a law, which, in every essential feature, was upon the statute book of the old Hebrews, or of the Roman republic, or of the empire of China. It matters not where it was first framed. If it is seen to meet the wants of our own nation, as a wise and just measure, it is taken, adopted, and made the law of this land. If no law is found upon the statute books of other nations which exactly meets our exigencies, our legislators are expected to originate a measure. This difference in the origin of laws in no respect affects them after enactment. By enactment measures are made laws, and the whole question of obedience settled. So of a rite instituted by our Lord; we raise no question as to its origin. The only question is upon enactment, by which the thing prescribed, whether borrowed or unborrowed, becomes law. It is, therefore, wholly unnecessary in this connection to ask ourselves, whether there existed among the Jews, before the Christian era, what is known as Proselyte Baptism. It has been affirmed, that such baptism did exist for those who entered the Jewish congregation as proselytes from Paganism, and that from this the Christian rite was derived. It may be well enough to know that a critical and exhaustive examination of this subject has recently been made by an eminent German scholar, Schneckenburger; that he pronounces decidedly against that earlier origin of the custom; and that he has carried with him the consent of the best scholarship of the age. But in this controversy we are not now to involve ourselves. For the same reason it is needless to decide whether John’s baptism was or was not Christian. If he belonged to the Old Dispensation, and not to the New; if his baptism was introductory and preliminary, and not in very truth Christian,—let it be granted. It does not matter. Our only point is this, that a rite known as baptism, new or derived, was prescribed by our Saviour, and its observance required of his followers. Let it also be borne in mind, that we here ask no question concerning the permanence of the instituted rite. This subject is postponed for separate notice. Whether baptism was to remain only for a time, or perpetually, shall receive its answer in due time. Now, the single, simple question is, whether such a rite was instituted for the disciples.

If my aim were only to state and establish that which is in dispute among Christians, and not to exhibit the subject in its completeness and proportions; if it were to treat it with reference to the state of opinion and not to its own inherent merits,—I might tacitly assume the institution of the rite, and pass on to points in litigation; for upon this point there is in Christendom no controversy deserving mention. And is not this very unanimity among sects, so much at variance upon almost every other point, one obvious and striking evidence in proof, that Christ did prescribe to the first Christians some outward rite called baptism, and require its observance? It is, certainly, an indication of the conclusiveness of the more direct testimony. And how, save through such origin, could we explain the practice of a rite under that name by all branches of the church, from the first times of which we have record, not as a mere custom but as an imposed law? This is an effect for which there must have been an adequate cause. What cause so naturally suggests itself, as the legislation of the Founder of the Church? We consult the records, and find the inference confirmed. One part of this confirmation is our Lord’s attitude toward the rite of baptism during his ministry. Such a rite—whether identical with the Christian rite, we need not determine—we find administered by John the Baptist. And here we notice, that it is administered by him in his official character as precursor and herald of Messiah, and to such as gave evidence of repentance and inward fitness to receive and welcome that Messiah. As he was a prophet, and more than a prophet, the use of this ordinance in these relations betokens more than the exercise of his private judgment. There is a significance in it which suggests to us, at once a divine origin and a divinely determined connection with the dawning religion. This significance is emphasized by our Lord’s submission to the ordinance at his entrance upon his public ministry. Whatever may have been the precise import of the baptism of Jesus, who was sinless, this much is clear, that his act at that time, his requirement of John to baptize him because thus it became him to fulfill all righteousness, with the descent of the Spirit upon him at the waters in dove-like form,—forbid the belief, that the rite thus honored had not a special connection with Christianity. We can hardly refrain from interpreting these facts as the adoption of the rite as a Christian ordinance to be observed by believers. Surely Christ’s observance of it at that time, and the revelation there made, at once of his spiritual endowment and the Father’s recognition of him as his beloved Son, or the Messiah, when added to John’s authority as precursor, must have conspired to produce such conviction in the minds of the disciples. And besides, we find ever after, that Christ speaks of the baptism of John with peculiar reverence, and implies its heavenly origin. There is evidence, also, that his disciples were baptized. It is also expressly affirmed, that Jesus baptized, not in his own person, but by his disciples. He is thus made to sanction their action. Their deed is his, and it has the same significance as though wrought by himself. The entire attitude of our Saviour toward the rite tends strongly to the conclusion, that he adopted it as a law of his church.

But even if all thus far produced were to be set aside as having no value, there yet remain three undeniable facts, any one of which, by itself alone, clearly and completely proves that Christ did institute the rite. The first of these facts is, that when Christ commissioned his disciples to preach the gospel, he also commissioned and commanded them to baptize. “Go ye,” he says, “disciple all nations baptizing them.” “He that believeth, and is baptized, shall be saved.” Here, directly from our Lord’s lips, is not merely a recognition of the rite and its approval as a proper custom, but the most explicit and unequivocal command enforcing its observance. This is nothing less than its institution as a law of the church. Nor is there any thing in the insertion of this command into the last great commission that ought to strike one as unnatural. The whole attitude of the Saviour toward the rite previously, as we have already seen, was in perfect accord. Now, as from the beginning, his kingdom is purely spiritual; but now, as from the beginning, he does not forget that the profoundest verities of spirit must have fit embodiment. The second fact, which also by itself settles this question, is the language of the apostles in their teaching after the ascension. When the convicted sinner, alarmed and trembling, asked them, “What shall I do to be saved?” their reply was, “Believe and be baptized, and thou shalt be saved.” Those who believe that Christ spake not his own words, but the words of his Father, need only recall his promises made to these apostles, that the Holy Spirit should bring to their remembrance all his words, guide them into all truth, give to them the keys of the heavenly kingdom, and make them, under him, founders of the everlasting church. Their words, therefore, must be taken as equivalent to Christ’s words. They enforced what he committed to them. Their enforcement of baptism has, therefore, but one ground. This was committed to them as a prescribed observance—a law of the church. The third fact, having the same force with each of the preceding, is the apostolic practice. Let us still keep in mind their position as related to the head of the church and to the church itself. They teach by deeds as well as by words. Their practice expounds doctrine. Their unvarying practice, as we well know, was to baptize converts. This is not only repeatedly mentioned in the Acts, but in the Epistles it is several times implied, that all the saints addressed were baptized believers. This practice proves that Christ instituted the rite. But if this is established by each of these three facts singly, their combined force, added to all that was before adduced in evidence, makes assurance more than trebly sure. We can safely advance to a new position.

2. Christ instituted the rite as a permanent, perpetual ordinance. It is not now asserted, that it could never be modified. That question shall be reserved for separate discussion. This only is intended, that the external rite of baptism which our Saviour instituted, was, in some form, to be perpetual. This proposition it is easy to prove. It would be fair here, as in the preceding case, to use in evidence the common consent of all Christendom as manifested with the slightest exceptions in practice. But we need no such testimony, for there is enough that is stronger. First, there is nowhere given any limitation. The world may be successfully challenged to find in our New Testament a sentence which teaches, or a word which implies, that this ordinance, in its external character, was to pass away before the end of time. There is the history of its origin. There is the description of our Lord’s attitude toward it during his ministry. There is his command to administer it. There are the often-repeated injunctions of his inspired representatives. There, also, is the record of their unvarying practice to the last. But you look in vain for a word or hint of limitation. Has not this fact a meaning? And is not that meaning clear? When a law is enacted and placed on the statute-book, making some prescribed act the duty of citizenship, and is there left, with no shadow of restriction either expressed or implied, must it not be understood to hold perpetually, unless subsequently repealed by the enacting power? What else is it possible to understand? What else then, I ask, unless we would stultify ourselves, can we understand of the divine law concerning baptism, when that is enacted, recorded, and left thus unrestricted? This law is surely permanent, unless repealed. And here now comes in as further evidence, and to complete the preceding, the fact that there exists in the world no repealing authority. But is not God in the world? And has he no power to repeal his own laws? God is, indeed, everywhere, and therefore here. He can repeal his own laws, provided only he has not pledged himself not to repeal them. He cannot lie. He cannot, therefore, break his pledge. If it were expressly stated by our Saviour that this law was to remain in force to the end of the world, this would be a pledge that it should not be repealed. Again, if he had given us good reason to believe the New Testament to be his last revelation to man, a perfect standard of faith and practice, to hold and abide while the world should stand, this also would be virtually a pledge to the same effect. I may here assume that this last pledge is given, for the first sermon of this series established the doctrine which involves it. I shall soon proceed to show that the other pledge is also given. It is not too much then to say, that the repeal of this law has been placed by the divine Legislator out of his own power. Has, then, the authority to repeal been delegated? It is clear that it could not have been delegated without involving self-contradiction on God’s part, if it can be shown that he has expressly proclaimed its perpetuity. But, though this will be soon shown, we may now treat the matter without reference to that, and as though no such thing could be established. We have already seen that the apostles were placed on a peculiar elevation as the inspired representatives of Christ. But even they had not authority to repeal, or annul, Christ’s law. Theirs was only the power of declaration, confirmation and enforcement. The promise to them was, “When he the Spirit of truth shall come, he shall guide you into all truth. * * * He shall glorify me; for he shall receive of mine, and shall show it unto you.” Exalted as they were, they were only exalted in Christ as their head and the head of the church—exalted to declare and execute his will, as obedient servants, not as coequals, to legislate independently, or to annul his enactments. If apostolic authority were still resident in the church, or in the officers of the church, as Papists maintain, even this would not involve the existence of a power to repeal any law of Christ. But apostolic authority passed away with apostles. It resides not in churches nor in individuals. There have never since their day been, nor ever shall be, prerogatives so near the divine intrusted to men. But the authority which does not equal theirs, cannot, surely, transcend it. If they might not repeal, how clear that to none has the repealing power been delegated. I shall now go further, and make good my promise to show that God has given the pledge, that the law shall not be repealed, in that he has expressly declared its perpetuity. The commission, as recorded by Matthew, runs as follows: “Go ye, therefore, and disciple all nations, baptizing them into the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit; teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you: and, lo! I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world.” Here our Lord contemplates the process of evangelization as continuing through time, and expressly promises his presence, to the world’s end. But he contemplates the administration of baptism as coextensive, in both space and time, with evangelization. He commands that it be made thus coextensive. And what is here expressly taught, is fully implied in Mark’s narrative, where the Lord, in connection with the commission, says: “He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved.” These passages are our Lord’s declaration of the perpetuity of Christian baptism, and God’s pledge, that its law shall not be repealed. This pledge is involved in Paul’s charge to Timothy: “The things which thou hast heard of me among many witnesses, the same commit thou to faithful men, who shall be able to teach others also.” The letters of this apostle show that one of these things which Timothy had heard from his spiritual father, was the law of baptism. This he was to keep and commit to others, able and faithful to teach still others, and thus to make perpetual the ordinance. And in yet other places there is involved in like manner its permanence. A distinct and emphatic testimony to its perpetuity is furnished by its relation to the Lord’s Supper. These two rites were the two halves of one whole. Vitally and indissolubly connected, they together constitute a solid, complete unity. Our natural birth begins our natural life. Our new birth, our new life. Sanctification but carries forward toward completion, regeneration. We have no natural life without natural birth. We have no sanctification without regeneration. Now, as will doubtless be shown by another in this course, and as we have here a right to assume without pausing to give proof, baptism is the symbol of our spiritual birth. The Lord’s Supper is the symbol of our spiritual life. We may change this statement, and say, that baptism is the new birth in symbol; the Lord’s Supper, the new life in symbol. Clearly, as the realities are related, so are the symbols. Baptism must precede the Supper, since birth precedes life. And so long as the Supper has place, its correlate must continue. Any other conception does violence to nature. Now, the perpetuity of the Supper as an ordinance of God, is established by the arguments that have just been used to establish the perpetuity of its antecedent. There is, also, a more express and pointed affirmation of that perpetuity. “As oft as ye eat this bread and drink this cup, ye do show the Lord’s death, till he come.” This coming of the Lord, or end of time, is the exact point when the observance of this rite is to cease. But, as baptism stands or falls with the Supper, that also is the limit of its observance. If, now, any thing more were needed to make good our position, I would ask, is not the need that gave rise to the ordinance, permanent? The fact symbolized remains unaltered. The reasons that in the beginning required its symbolic declaration, hold to the end. Must not, then, the wisdom which instituted, preserve? Can it be made to appear consistent, that what was originated should, under the circumstances, be abandoned? But we will not pass from testimony to inference, from the certain to the probable. It is safe to leave this point where it now is, for I think no thoughtful man can fail to feel that the unanimity of the church, touching the permanence of baptism as an external rite, is justified, nay, is even compelled, by force of evidence.

3. I shall next show, that this rite—already proved to have been divinely instituted, and that as a perpetual ordinance—as originally given, was the person’s immersion in water. I say, as originally given it was this. I mean that as instituted by Jesus Christ, declared, commanded and practiced by all the Apostles, it was this, and this only. My only aim now is to make good this assertion. It is not to decide whether a change was not made at a very early day, or to determine what was the day of the change. And as we are now speaking purely of the external rite, the simple outward act called baptism, it is not here the place to determine who are fit subjects, or who must administer the ordinance, or with what form of words, and in what manner, or what purpose and spirit should animate, on the one hand the candidate, on the other the administrator. Each of these questions deserves attention, and each has its proper answer. But they must not come in to mix themselves with the present question and create a mental confusion. Our sole, single inquiry is, What originally was that external rite called baptism? What constituted it? The answer given, and to be justified, is, the person’s immersion in water. I am aware that this statement will not command the same general assent as do those which have preceded it. Yet there is one part of the answer, respecting which there will be no less perfect agreement. In defining the external rite, the two words, water and immersion, were used. By these words are designated, respectively, the two essential constituents of the rite. That water was essential to the rite is the common belief, and it is my welcome duty, first, to disclose the ground of that conviction. There are two or three thoughts that could not fail to suggest themselves to the mind of one about to open and examine the record touching this point, and which, once suggested, could not be wholly without influence. The first is, that since the fittest emblem of sin is pollution, the most suitable thing to be used as an emblem of its removal, or of that change which involves its final, complete removal, would be a cleansing element. Fire is the most thorough refiner. But this is used upon metals, not upon men. To cleanse men, water is used. This, then, would occur to the mind as the most appropriate and significant element to be employed in token of an inward spiritual cleansing. Besides this, we could not but bear in mind the well-known fact, that in the East generally, and especially among the Jews, where baptism had its origin, water was constantly and universally used in token of moral cleansing. This also would prepare us, on the one hand to anticipate its use by our Lord in his symbol of the new birth, and on the other hand to regard it as essential to the symbol if we found him using it. With such considerations in mind we open our New Testament, and are not surprised to find water so constantly, and in such ways, mentioned in connection with the rite, as at once to convince us that it was never administered without water. Not only is the mention of water frequent, but there seems to be given to it a certain emphatic prominence, often, which harmonizes best with the altogether natural theory, that this element is indispensable to the rite, essential to its symbolic nature. How often is the Jordan mentioned! Once it is said that a certain place was chosen for baptism because of its abundance of water. The administrator and candidate go down into the water. The eunuch exclaims: “See, here is water! what doth hinder me to be baptized?” Peter asks, “Can any man forbid water, that these should not be baptized which have received the Holy Ghost as well as we?” It is true, that if water had been used simply from convenience, and not because of its symbolic significance, we could understand all such language; but I think that few will feel that it would then be quite so natural. This interpretation is made more sure by a set of passages which seem to ascribe to water a regenerating efficacy. Christ told Nicodemus, that a man could not enter the kingdom of God unless he was begotten of water and the Spirit. (John 3:5.) Paul wrote that Christ cleansed the church “by the washing of water in the word.” (Eph. 5:26.) At another time he used these words: “According to his mercy he saved us, by the washing (laver or bath) of regeneration, and renewing of the Holy Ghost.” To understand such language to imply that water, a material agent, has any virtue to cleanse from sin the soul, a spiritual agent, would be an offence not only against reason, but equally against the whole drift of Scripture. The spiritual energy is seen, and named in its symbol by a kind of picture-language, so common and natural. If, now, these passages, which I have cited, refer directly to baptism, as many first-class interpreters believe, and as to me seems most obvious, they give to the element, water, a significance which at once makes it vital and essential to the rite. And even if, with other interpreters equally skilled, they were not made to refer directly to baptism, but only to water as a recognized element of purity, they are almost equally decisive; for they show how the teachers of Christianity, including both Christ and the inspired apostles, viewed and spoke of the element which they also used in the rite which symbolized the new birth. It is impossible that they and the disciples at large could have had this view of the symbolic import of water, and yet not have attached to it significance in the great initiatory ordinance. But we come now to passages which at once, and by themselves, set the matter at rest. They are those which specify baptism, and ascribe to it, as do the others to water, a spiritually cleansing power. Ananias, by Divine direction, went to the converted Saul soon after his arrival at Damascus, and delivered to him this message: “Arise, and be baptized, and wash away thy sins, calling upon the name of the Lord.” (Acts 22:16.) The cleansing power here ascribed to baptism, could, obviously, have been only by virtue of the element in which it was administered. There was nothing in the rite, but the water, which could have contained or suggested the notion of cleansing. In Peter’s first Epistle is another passage still more explicit. After stating that Noah and his family were saved in the ark by water, he adds, in effect; “which element in its antitype, baptism, saves you also.” (1 Pet. 3:21.) Here water is expressly designated as that in baptism which saves us. It could not be more strongly declared to be an essential constituent of the rite. Of like import and clearness is the exhortation in Heb. 10:22, 23: “Having our bodies washed with pure water, let us hold fast the profession of our faith without wavering.” With good reason, therefore, has the church, from the earliest times, in all its divisions, held fast the idea, that purity of heart was expressed to the eye in baptism by the use of water. Thus far they remain true to the doctrine of Christ.

It remains now to prove, that immersion was also originally essential to the rite. This is not to say, that it was or is essential to salvation, but only, as the use of water was one constituent of the rite, so also its use by immersion was the second constituent, like the first, essential, inseparable, and indispensable. And here it will at once occur to every mind, that immersion is only a mode of using water. I do not say a mode of applying it, for it can hardly be said to be applied, except when taken and either sprinkled or poured upon the person. The phrase, “mode of application,” has arisen from another practice than that of the original Christian baptism. Still, though this phraseology, which has sometimes been made to play no unimportant part in so-called argument upon this theme, be disallowed as inaccurate, it is yet true, and must be conceded, that immersion is only a mode of using or employing water. But, as soon as this is conceded, there arises the question, how can mere mode, or manner, be essential to a thing, and one of its constituents? Does not this involve an absurdity and self-contradiction? With great energy and frequency this question has been answered in the affirmative; and this answer has been made the basis, sometimes of pity for Baptist blindness, and sometimes of indignation at Baptist bigotry. If there really is absurdity and self-contradiction necessarily involved in making mode constitute in part the essence of a thing, the proposition which I have promised to prove is self-destructive, admitting neither confirmation nor refutation. But it does not involve a self-contradiction. It is therefore not self-destructive. And it does admit of confirmation. It does not involve any absurdity, for mode or form is not necessarily without character, and may be itself the thing prescribed. But, if the thing prescribed is in whole or in part a form, then surely of that thing form belongs to the essence. Take, for example, the signal-service, by which the movements of a fleet are determined and the issues of battle decided. If the code prescribes that a flag of a given form shall have a given meaning, is the form nothing? Is the form non-essential? Let the signal officer disregard the form, and display a flag of different pattern! It was only form that he disregarded, but he has caused disaster. Or, let the law prescribe that a given motion of the flag shall be understood to mean a given thing. That is but a mode of using the flag. Does it, therefore, not belong to the essence of the signal? It is the signal. The mode is the thing. So a nod of the head, and a shake of the head, are each only a way, or mode of its use but the child is not long in learning that they are by no means interchangeable. It is, therefore, not random talk to call immersion essential to the external rite known as baptism; nor is it a bewilderment of the logical faculty to undertake to prove the same.

There are two separate points to be established. The first is, that in administering the rite, immersion was originally practiced; and the second, that this immersion was itself of the essence of the rite. And here, also, before hearing the more direct evidence, one or two thoughts will suggest themselves, which ought not to be wholly without influence. One of these is, that in the person’s immersion, and immediate consequent emersion, there is an obvious natural fitness to body forth forcibly to the eye vital truth connected with the spiritual birth. If this change were only an inward cleansing, without reference to Jesus Christ, and quite independent of any known facts in his history, the mere symbol of purification might be thought to cover the whole ground. But there are these two grand facts—the Saviour’s sacrificial death; the Saviour’s triumphal resurrection. The genuine Christian consciousness can never suffer these to fall into the back ground in his remembrance of the new birth. He becomes a new creature, not in his solitary separate self, but in Christ Jesus, the crucified and risen. To these external facts correspond the two chief phases of his inward experience. He dies to self, to the world, to sin; he rises in newness of life, to holiness and to God, in Jesus Christ. Now, both these outward facts in our divine Lord’s life, and both these corresponding facts in the soul’s own inward experience, are beautifully and forcefully expressed by immersion and emersion. Neither of them are even hinted at by the simple symbol of purity. Is it not as easy for the Christian heart to conceive, that a rite which Divine wisdom should institute to express the new birth, would leave unnoticed the idea of purity, as that it would wholly pass by these other sublime verities? Another thought is, that in a rite whose design it was to express silently to the eye invisible realities, the mode of using the element was a feature of too much prominence to be without significance. It would be quite as natural to believe the element destitute of meaning. How striking this circumstance of mode! How diverse and unlike the different possible modes! What scope for the introduction of confusion, and the loss of original unity, if the mode had been declared valueless! Such thoughts as these ought not to be without force in our examination of testimony. In confirmation of our first point, namely, that immersion, and that only, was originally practiced, stands at the beginning the undeniable fact, that the word baptism in all its other uses means immersion. Sane and intelligent men, when soberly discoursing in a language with which they are perfectly familiar, are accustomed to use words in their proper and established meanings. An English writer, attempting in good faith to describe to his readers the act of crying, would not invariably use the word laugh. At least the presumption would be, that he meant what he said. He who denied would have to make good his denial, or stultify himself. Still stronger is the case when several persons, equally intelligent, agree in describing the same familiar act by the same familiar word. If ten witnesses, independent and trustworthy, were to relate the destruction of a certain city by a great fire, could any thing be more preposterous than the assertion, that, in fact, it was a flood which they intended. And how would the ease be still strengthened, if different witnesses were speaking under Divine inspiration, describing some act of great religious import, and enjoining it upon others as a duty for them solemnly to perform. Can language describe the boldness which, without convincing proof, would deny to a term, uniformly used under such circumstances, its fixed meaning, and affix to it an opposite signification? Now, the Greek language has a word which means to immerse. The most exhaustive and critical examination of its use in all other known connections has repeatedly been made, but not an instance has been found where it could be made to appear, that it did not involve the idea of immersion. It holds in the Greek exactly the same place that the word immersion holds in the English. Even the primary word from which it is derived, is proved to have with equal uniformity the conception of dipping, or submerging, in all its uses. I shall not weary you with an array of authorities, nor conduct you through a tedious examination. I state only that which is well established, and, by intelligent scholars, well understood. Now, in this same Greek language there is a word equally explicit to denote the act of sprinkling, another to designate pouring, another which means to wash, and another signifying to cleanse. These are all common words, as well known to one who can speak Greek, as even the English terms to any one of us. The word which means to immerse is baptizein (baptizein), the noun meaning immersion baptisma (baptisma). We find in our English Bible these terms, not translated, but transferred. Now, are we to be told, that as often as the different inspired writers use the word baptism, or immersion, they mean sprinkling, or pouring, or cleansing? Why will a man, how can a man, venture to deny that the writers of the New Testament meant immerse when they said immerse? It is not because there is any evidence compelling the perversion, for every candid scholar, who knows any thing of the controversy upon this point, is aware, that not even a plausible objection has as yet been urged against the literal and established sense of the word. I have no heart to touch upon those puerilities, the pretence of a scarcity of water, in a city abounding in baths; the pretence of lack of time to accomplish what is reported to have been done, when the notion of such lack has often been shown to be utterly groundless, and when the objection is also equally valid against sprinkling or pouring—for immersion, as a sacred rite can be decently performed as rapidly as can either of the others; or that other pretence, which never had even a shadow of support, that the term baptize had become entirely emptied of all significance except to denote a sacred rite; or those other half dozen pretences, yet more absurd, which misguided ingenuity in the interest of party has succeeded during some centuries of effort in inventing and raking together.

This testimony, from the meaning of the word baptism, is corroborated by the descriptions of the administration of the ordinance. Mark writes, that Jesus was baptized by John “into the Jordan.” True, our English version has it “in Jordan,” but the Greek is “into.” Now, it is quite natural to speak of immersing a man “into” the river, but how would you sprinkle or pour him into the stream? This, however, is the only passage where the preposition into stands in such connection; and, if there were any necessity, it might be understood as a condensed mode of saying, that Christ went into the Jordan, and was then baptized. But there is no reason for giving it another than its obvious interpretation. The preposition in is the one which commonly connects the word baptism with the element. No other is used, except in the single instance already adduced. Dr. Hovey, in some unpublished notes, says, that, besides the instance just noticed, “the element of baptism is mentioned sixteen times in the New Testament. In ten of these it is water, and in six it is the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit is always in the dative, and preceded by en; water is likewise always in the dative, and preceded by en in seven cases out of ten.” (Cf. also 1 Cor. 10:2.) Accepting these results of his careful investigation, their bearing can easily be seen. The dative case, which is three times used without the preposition en, expresses the sphere in which a thing is done, as well as the instrument by which. The preposition en (in), with the dative, must be understood to express “the sphere in which,” unless there is some decisive reason for giving it another meaning. Its first, natural, and common meaning is this. It is clear that the idea of immersion is decidedly favored by these passages, especially when it is remembered that never is the Greek words for with or by, employed in such connections. It is more natural to speak of immersing in water than of sprinkling or pouring in water. We sprinkle, but not pour, a person with water; or yet more accurately, we sprinkle or pour water upon a person. But the Greek writers never speak of baptizing one with or by water, much less of baptizing water upon one. With this exactly agrees the circumstance, that candidates are said to have gone down into the water. No good reason was ever yet assigned for such an act, unless they were to be immersed after they had gone down. But the case is made yet clearer by passages which speak of the selection of certain places for baptism because of the abundance of water. John selected Enon for this reason and frequent mention is made of the Jordan. There is no one feature of any of the recorded descriptions which does not harmonize entirely with the theory of immersion, nor is there one feature which favors the notion of sprinkling or affusion. Further corroborating evidence is contained in references to the symbolic import of baptism. I have already noticed those passages which show that purity was symbolized. There are others, entirely different, which show that purity was not the only fact expressed. In Rom. 6:3-5, Paul writes: “Know ye not, that so many of us as were baptized into Jesus Christ, were baptized into his death? Therefore we are buried with him by baptism into death; that like as Christ was raised up from the dead by the glory of the Father, even so we also should walk in newness of life; for if we have been planted together in the likeness of his death, we shall be also in the likeness of his resurrection.” Again, in Col. 2:12, he speaks of being “buried with Christ in baptism,” and also “raised with him” in it. These passages teach, with all possible plainness, that baptism was understood by the apostle to represent to the eye a burial and a resurrection. This is here declared to be a part of its symbolic design, with no less clearness and force than elsewhere purity is declared to be expressed. But by no use of water is a burial and resurrection exhibited, except by an immersion and an immediate consequent emersion. No man needs any comment upon this plain language of the apostle; but, if comment were desired, it is at hand; for the scholarship of the church, past and present, with only the feeblest controversial dissent, has affirmed that in these cases immersion must be presupposed as Christian baptism. If further evidence were needed, it is furnished in the fact that the early church, after the apostles, knew no baptism but immersion, and that, as is well known, the Greek church still retains immersion. Dr. Conant, in his invaluable “Critical and Philological Notes,” at the end of his revised version of the Gospel by Matthew, has collected in the original Greek of the church Fathers, their language, as it was that of the New Testament writers, and has translated into English a multitude of passages which show the position of the early church upon this matter. To these, he says, many others of the same tenor might have been added. What their tenor is, will sufficiently appear from a single example, which is a fair representative. Cyril, bishop of Jerusalem, in the last half of the fourth century, writes: “For as Jesus assuming the sins of the world died, that having slain sin he might raise thee up in righteousness; so also thou, going down into the water, and in a manner buried in the waters, as he in the rock, art raised again, walking in newness of life.” Very many eminent scholars, in churches which practice sprinkling or affusion, have borne strong testimony to the fact, that originally only immersion was known. The language of Calvin, in his comment upon John. 3:23, is as follows: “From these words it may be inferred that baptism was administered by John and Christ by plunging the whole body under water. * * * Here we perceive how baptism was administered among the ancients, for they immersed the whole body in water.” This fairly represents the admission of a multitude of this class. Would such and so many men have borne witness against themselves, except compelled to it by the weight of evidence? All these facts which have been adduced must forever stand a full and sufficient justification of the assertion, that baptism, as originally practiced, was immersion. They constitute a defence never to be shaken by the petty objections which, in Liliputian mimicry of war, are marshaled and arrayed against them. There are some who try to ignore this solid granite mountain of truth. Like certain animals which burrow in the ground, they dig a little way into the looser covering which is over the rock, and when they have thus buried themselves, cry out, that they see no such mountain.

We have next to show, that the immersion originally practiced was of the essence of this rite, and not a mere accident. Here recall the two preliminary considerations already noticed: the first, that of the natural fitness of immersion to constitute such part; the second, the antecedent improbability that a feature so important should be merely accidental. Add to these the significant fact, that the very name of the rite is immersion. How unreasonable that intelligent men, and especially if inspired, should name the initiatory and perpetual rite of the church from a mere accident of that rite, and not from that which pertained to its essence. Every one would expect that its name would have been a word containing the idea of water, or at least of cleansing, if water had been the only essential thing. Still further, if water alone were essential, and the mode of its use quite indifferent, why was the most difficult, and, as some allege, indelicate mode adopted and employed? Is it of the genius of Christianity to impose upon its professors needless and senseless burdens? And yet, once more, why, when the apostle gave an interpretation of the spiritual import of the rite, did he once and again in his epistles, and, without doubt, habitually in oral instruction, seize upon the mode, to the entire omission of the element? Did he coldly purpose to mislead? or was he ignorant? There can be no other reason for his course than that immersion was then essential to the rite—a constituent and inseparable part of it. I trust that the assertion has been made good, that the divinely instituted and perpetual rite of baptism, as originally given, was the immersion of the candidate in water; that the element water, and the immersion with the consequent emersion, were both and equally essential to that rite.

4. Let us now advance together one step further. The divine, perpetual rite as instituted was never to be altered. There are three conceivable grounds, any one of which might justify, or be supposed to justify, an alteration. The first is an express command or permission; the second, the lodgement in the church, or some part of it, of a power to change the rite at will; the third, its little importance. No command or permission to change the ordinance has ever been found, unless such permission or command exist in the impossibility or impropriety of its administration in its original character. Those who are pleased to stigmatize immersion as indelicate, unbecoming, and improper, unfitted to the refinements of our modern civilization, and therefore to be set aside for something more genteel and elegant, are, perhaps, honest, are surely silly. To set their taste above Christ’s law, would be monstrous, if it were not ridiculous. As to the impossibility of immersing, it does sometimes exist. Persons who are proper subjects are sometimes too feeble or otherwise unfitted to observe the ordinance. But what is the rational view to take of these cases? Is it, that for such persons another and different rite shall be substituted, or, rather, that these persons are, by divine providence, for the time excused from performing the outward act, and, instead of that, the inward disposition is accepted? The question carries its own answer. But how much more emphatic would be this answer, if it were claimed, that the inability of a few exceptional persons to be immersed justified such substitution, not for these only, but for the whole body of believers, sick and well, lame and sound. This would be a leap of logic astounding, bewildering. But it is said, that there are countries too cold to allow immersion; and, as Christ’s religion was for the race, he must have intended that the rite should be modified to make it tolerable. In this, then, is the divine permission. Permission for what? Not merely to excuse those of the cold clime from the outward act, which impossibility of performance would certainly justify. Is it then in these special cases to substitute another act in its place for them? No; it is even worse; it is a permission to give another rite to the whole church, in frigid, temperate, and torrid zones. But where are those regions whose cold makes immersion impracticable? The practice of the Greek church shows that they form no habitable part of this earth. Are they, then, on the dark side of the moon? I suspect they lie somewhere in the drear imagination of partisan objectors. This ground of divine permission or command to change Christ’s ordinance is supported by no argument which can fairly be called respectable, even if courtesy shall concede the name of argument.

How, next, is it with that second ground, the lodgment in the church or its officers of an authority to change the ordinance at discretion? Does it not require precisely the same authority to change a law that it does to repeal? and the same to either change or repeal that it does to enact? Has Christ delegated this authority? We have already found the answer. We saw that not even to apostles was such authority delegated. How much less to their successors or the church of subsequent time!

And now can I speak soberly and temperately of that other supposed ground for changing God’s law, to wit: its little importance. “Only a form;” “Merely external;” “Not essential;” “A mere question of the amount of water.” Is it possible that men, who call Christ Lord, can use such a plea to justify a known change of his sacred ordinance? Are they really in earnest? Why do they not say of the Bible, “It is made up only of words and sentences? Words are but trifles. Why be so scrupulous to retain them, just as they came from the pen of inspiration? “Phariseeism! Bondage! Judaism! Let us, in the free Catholic spirit, which is the very genius of Christianity, drop a letter here, a word there, and a sentence elsewhere. Let us at will add and change, for elegance, convenience, or utility. The letter killeth, but the spirit giveth life. The letter killeth! Then kill the letter.” No! Christian men dare not thus reason of the written word. They well know that to kill the letter, is to kill the indwelling spirit. How, then, dare they reason thus of that grand symbolic, pictorial language, in which our Lord incarnated, and visibly bodied forth to the view of the race the central sublime verities of his holy religion? If possible, the sin is greater in the case of the rite than in that of the written word. The rite is alone, solitary. In the word, a multitude of passages contain the same ground truth. The rite is a summary, gathering into itself many truths. Often the word holds but one feature of one truth. The rite embodies verities which are at the very centre. Much of the Bible treats of exterior truth. But worse though the sin be, in some of its features, yet in principle it is just the same. It is vicious in the extreme. It degrades the authority of Christ. Suppose the rite worthless. You bid your child take from the floor a pin; may he disobey you because it is a pin, and not a diamond? It degrades the wisdom of Christ. Is he to be charged with the institution, and the perpetual requirement, of a trivial or worthless rite? It degrades the judgment, and outrages the Christian consciousness of the whole family of Christ; for the church deems the rite invaluable—her heart cherishes it as a sacred legacy. But, if it is so unimportant that one of its constituents may be cast aside, then, either or both may be rejected, and the whole ordinance discarded. There is, there can be, no ground which justifies any, the least change of that which belonged to the essence of the rite; hence no ground which will justify the substitution either of another element in place of water, or of another use of water in place of immersion. Every argument which we saw binding the church to retain the ordinance of baptism, and all these arguments combined which the church so unanimously and heartily, in word and practice, pronounce invincible, equally bind it to retain the rite as it was instituted. Indeed, not otherwise does she retain Christ’s ordinance, but substitutes another and different. The command to observe it, given without any kind of limitation, expressed or implied; the non-existence of even the shadow of authority to repeal; the express declaration of its perpetuity to the end of time; its relation to the Lord’s Supper, which by independent evidence is shown to be perpetual; and the continuance to the last of the same need which originated—all these, severally and conjointly, lift up the clear, articulate, solemn voice of authority, and command the church and the world to lay no desecrating hand upon God’s ordinance, or change in the least his abiding decree. These all warn the erring to return to the right way, and those in that way to turn not one hair’s breadth to right or left.

But too long already have I detained you with this discussion. Here let us pause, and by rapid glance mark the stages which we have traveled, together, wearily perhaps, yet I trust with profit. The Christian religion is spiritual, yet it admits of expression by the language of symbol. The symbol may be external rite. The rite known as baptism, viewed in its purely external character, was taken as our theme. In the treatment of this theme we came to our present position by the following successive steps. Christ’s appointments are of Divine authority. He instituted an external rite, known as baptism, to be observed by his disciples. This rite was designed by him to be permanent. There were originally two essential constituents in the outward rite—the one water, used as the symbol of purity; the other immersion with the consequent emersion, as the symbol of burial and resurrection. The rite was absolutely unalterable in each and both of its constituents. These positions, severally and collectively, I believe must commend themselves to the candid and thoughtful, as true and scriptural. While held, they bind us to our good old Baptist faith and practice. If they are wrong, let it be proved. We will then gladly abandon them, though each is now dear to our hearts, because we believe each to be true. Discussion—fair, candid, earnest, Christian—we should never fear, should ever court. If the positions are right, we must maintain them, defend them, proclaim them, not indeed as Baptists, but as Christians. Far be it from the disciple of him who styled himself “the Truth,” to cherish a partisan spirit in matters of Christian faith. In so far as we have attained, we have “One Lord, one Faith, one Baptism, one God and Father of all, who is above all, and through all, and in all.” Wherein we have not attained, whether in spirit or in forms, be it ours to “reach forth toward the things that are before, and press forward toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Thus shall “we all come into the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God.” Then, sometime in the fair future, the sun shall look down from the pure heavens, not upon a church ruptured, dissevered with jealous, jarring, warring members, but upon a church bound together, not by the external bands of ecclesiastical or State legislation, but by those softer yet stronger cords of a pure Christian faith and an imperishable Christian love.

[ Madison Avenue Lectures ]