Baptizing at 150

First a couple of much-needed apologies:
1. To those of you who have been crazy enough to keep up with my blog over the past year, you were likely stunned when I stopped spouting off for a good while. Sorry about that. Rest assured, I'm back on track, and I'll be able to see who has an RSS Feed on my account when only a few people check in on this post.
2. Normally, I don't comment on proceedings in either of my denominations particularly, but this post will be as much relevant to some of my Arminian friends as it is to my Reformed ones, I promise :)
3. I'm getting a C.S. Lewis complex, even though I could never hope to author the kinds of works he did. I've gotten myself a leather chair and footstool for my office, purchased a "pipe rack" with six wonderful pipes, and even started in on a book, although I don't know what will become of it, so don't get your hopes up.

Belaboring my Point

If you were one of the lucky ones to attend the 150 celebration at Van Andel for the Christian Reformed Church a Sunday back, you may have run across my name in the worship booklet right around the centerfold (If you weren't, you can check it out here). The intuitive CRC person would recognize right away that a CRC contributer from Greenville is strange because there's no CRC in this city. Luckily, they didn't list home churches, or there may have been some real feathers flying.

I had all but forgotten writing this quote sometime back in the spring, but was amazed to see how accurately it reflected my vision not only for the CRC, but for the Church in general. It addresses a few problems with the denominations of which I've been a part. First, we suck at going into cities. We can minister really well to farmers and housewives, but we're particularly bad at ministering to urban and even suburban settings, which explains why our membership has been so stagnant over the years. Passion, yes. Humility, yes.

BUT, the major point of my theology that drives my professors nuts at seminary is shackled at the end of this quotation: "that our greatest theology is dwarfed by the richness of the mystery and transcendence of our holy God." If you want to package the Mark Hilbelink theology in one phrase, that's it. Look, I love theological discussion and debate. In fact, my seminary friends and I had a "Synod Party" to do just that around meat. But, every systematics class I take seems to assume that we know about 95% about God and 5% is left to mystery (give or take). There is the argument given that God has made himself sufficiently known to all creation for the purposes of salvation. Absolutely! But I would like to make the case that we worship a God that is so unfathomable and incomprehensible that 5% might just get us by with sufficient knowledge for salvation. In that sense, I wish that every systematic theologian from Aquinas to Wesley would have started their theologies by acknowledging that we are arguing and debating strictly the revealed part of God, which may be only a touching of the outer cloak of who God is. The reason they can't? It makes their own theologies less important. Bummer.

Dedicating our Children

For those of you who know me well, you'll know that I was watching this past CRC Synod on tiptoes waiting to see what it would do with the Alberta classis' overture for a committee to study the practice of infant dedication in the CRC and what that might mean for its future. I have long held the belief that infant dedication can be just as illegitimate a form of committing a child to the Lord as infant baptism within the Reformed context. Also, I like to ask the question: which of these seems more plausible: 1)That the apostles intended that baptism be a replacement for covenantal circumcision OR 2)That the Reformers maintained infant baptism from the Catholic Church in the Reformation because it would have rocked the boat too much to propose anything else.

I had an interesting conversation with the associate pastor from my home church in Iowa last Tuesday, who was, incidentally, a Synodical delegate. He had attended Mars Hill Church in Grandville the Sunday before and heard Bell's explanation of the baptism/dedication debate. While he affirms infant baptism wholeheartedly, he agreed with me that you could easily hold non-infant baptism position faithfully within the Reformed tradition. However, his argument, admittedly influenced by Bell, was that if you held that position, dedication was not necessary since its even less Biblically-based than infant baptism. My argument on the other side was that implementation of infant dedication within any Reformed tradition would have to include some sort of dedication, not as a sacrament, but as a commitment of the parents and Church family to maintain their covenantal responsibilities. I compared it to the laying on of hands, which is a very Biblical concept, seldom practiced in Reformed faith communities.

If we agree that baptism as a sacrament is nothing hokus pokus nor salvific, then it seems to me the sign should be a confirmation of election, as it described in the Bible, as Romans 8 says, "creation waits in eager expectation for the sons of God to be revealed". Instead, they continue to baptize infants based on the faith of their parents than on the power of the Spirit to raise up the elect.

That being said, I can stomach the Reformed position on infant baptism because I see virtually no practical difference between baptism/confirmation and dedication/baptism, but I wish the CRC would have taken the opportunity at 150 to let a committee seriously study this concept and its theological implications.

Innovation in Theology?

I've been struggling with the idea of whether or not theology is allowed to be innovative. I'm not talking about the practice of theology, but theology itself. Are new ideas okay within the realm of orthodoxy or even a particular tradition?

Our gut reaction is yes. Of course we like new ideas, new approaches and new allegories for how God works. If theology is speaking about God, or prolegomena, then we certainly should allow for innovative theology. What happens when an innovative theology comes out, however, is that it is very rarely taken on within a tradition, but rather pushed to the outskirts or the creation of a new tradition in and of itself. Why do we let our fear of innovation drive us?

Innovations in theology can still be tested against truths. For instance, if you know my ideas on baptism, then you know that I favor adult baptism, but favor it within a Reformed context. Regardless of how you feel about believer baptism, could you accept this as a Reformed person within your church or would you point me to another denomination that fits that view better? One of my seminary profs did.

Take then, my previous posting about the nature of God's love for humanity and the need for escape. Hold it up against your theology. Is it Arminian? Is it Reformed? I don't think so. Does your view of God's sovereignty make logical sense? You tell me why there was a tree in the garden. I love church history, but what I love about it is the continuing innovation, much of which got people burned and then weaseled its way into our churches anyway.

Read Rob Bell's "Velvet Elvis". He argues for taking out the bricks and examining them without having the whole structure falling apart. Beautiful. Confessions, catechisms, creeds: imagine these as the walls on the gym you move in rather than the seat you're strapped into. Now what?