Christianity for the Next 1000 Years: A People Who Say, "No."

Welcome back.  I hope my blog finds you well.

As I write about the tradition that began my life journey, I hope to awaken memories in you that reconnect you in a fresh way to your journey.  

I am a Southern Baptist, a spiritual descendant of Anabaptists.  I did not know about my spiritual heritage as I was growing up in a community filled with Baptists, Church of Christ, and Methodists on Signal Mountain, Tennessee.  In fact, I did not learn about Anabaptists until seminary. I suspect few in my community would have known about Anabaptists as well.  

The word "anabaptist" means, “to baptize again,” and it is another example of pejorative name calling that stuck.  

Anabaptists were part of the Radical Reformation in the 16^th Century.  Their critics called them Anabaptists because they did not believe in infant baptism.  Instead, they believed that the confession of faith from a man or woman determined when he or she wanted to be baptized.  The baptism was always immersion under water.

I remember an argument I had with my grandfather about baptism in 1979.  Baptists love to argue, but none so much as my grandfather.  I helped him pick corn that day in his garden.  We debated among tall green stalks with the sound of nearby dragonflies and crickets singing in his lake nearby.  

I had accepted the pastorate of a small country church in Sequatchie County, Tennessee.  At the time I began preaching there, I was engaged to a sweet Cumberland Presbyterian girl.  She had been baptized with water poured over her head.

My grandfather insisted that her baptism was not valid.  She had to be immersed or we could not marry.  

At least my grandfather acknowledged that she was a Christian, but according to his theology she could not be a Baptist preacher's wife.  I disagreed with my grandfather then and now.  She and I never married, not because of my grandfather, but because I was not ready to be a husband, and she was too good for me.  I did pastor the church.

I must add that my grandfather believed that he and God shared the same theology. 

Anabaptists disliked the name given to them since they believed they were not baptizing again.  Theirs was the true baptism.  God only recognized the first baptism that followed a confession of faith, not a birth.  Their reasons were based on how they read the Bible and on what to them appeared to be common sense.  

Consider that I took Latin in college.  For the longest time I erroneously believed that Anabaptist meant “no baptism” since the prefix “a” in Latin meant “no."  For example, our word "atheist" means "no god."  

So for years I believed Baptists were people who said, “No.”  It’s no small wonder why I thought that way.  My grandfather said "no" a lot.  Indeed, where I was raised the word “no” floated around in numbers greater than the clouds overhead.

“May I dance?”

“No.”

“May I rock and roll?”

“No.”

“May girls wear pants?”

“No.”

“May I play Solitaire?”

“No.”

“May I read James Joyce?”

“No.”

“May I grow my hair?”

“No.”

“May I go to movies?”

“No.”

“May I play on Sunday?”

“No.”

“May girls wear makeup and rubies?”

“No.”

“May I drink beer?”

“Hell, no!”

Baptist guilt is a special kind of guilt.  I was eaten up with it. Science saved me from guilt, but I still feel a twinge from time to time right when I start to truly enjoy myself.

Next, I want to consider when "no" can mean "yes."  It should be fun.  

I hope to see you here.  Blessings…