In this post, I will share my reflections on the various sessions of the convention, explaining my reaction to the various items presented and my hope for the future based on the actions of the convention in session. I will divide these reactions based on the various types of business conducted, reacting in order to the motions presented and their disposal by the convention, the election of our officers, the reports of the convention entities, and the report of the Committee on Resolutions. I will close with general observations gleaned from my observations of the mood in the convention hall, as well as various conversations over meals, in the exhibit hall, and elsewhere.

Motions

I was encouraged first of all by the motions that were presented. Observers of the SBC annual meeting have characterized time for presentation of motions as being like the time at a family reunion when the crazy uncle shows up. With rare exception, this year, the crazy uncle stayed home. There were no motions regarding an “American Christian Flag,” there was no protest of LifeWay for selling “allegory,” and controversial non-SBC pastors were altogether absent from these sessions. It was refreshing in that, at least.

There were a couple of items of concern, and these bear mentioning. First, there was the motion offered by a messenger from Oklahoma regarding the president of the Ethics and Religious Liberty Commission of the Southern Baptist Convention (ERLC). It was an attempt to go around the resolution process and force the convention to speak to the recent controversy surrounding said president. I was grateful that the chair ruled this motion out of order, and that the convention had the wisdom to sustain his ruling. As a committed Congregationalist, I am happy that the convention saw the wisdom of that ruling. I’ll have more to say about this messenger and his motion under the heading of “Entity Reports.”

The other item of concern came from a messenger from Illinois who dominated the microphone with a plethora of motions. I call this an item of concern based on the reaction I perceived in the hall, and not because it concerned me especially, except that it was a demonstration of poor convention strategy. This messenger had legitimate concerns, and for the most part he expressed them properly, but his concerns, and any agreement the convention might have found with them, collapsed under the sheer volume of what he brought to the convention. While any messenger has the right to bring as many motions as time allows, a prudent messenger must recognize that a perception of trying to dominate the floor will doom his chances of being taken seriously. I believe his ubiquity doomed his legitimate challenge to the proposal for the adoption of a descriptor, brought later as a recommendation from the Executive Committee.

Elections

The election of officers can be, depending on the circumstances, either a gripping drama played out on the convention floor, or a good time to visit the exhibit hall. This year, the election of our president was the former, though no other candidate was presented. I was grateful to be in the hall when President Bryant Wright invited messengers to stand in affirmation as Recording Secretary Jim Yeats cast the convention’s ballot electing Fred Luter as the next president of the SBC. It was an historic moment, and a great step forward for our convention in repudiating a past steeped in racism. I was moved to tears, and even though I was without ballots, I proudly stood alongside the messengers in celebration of Luter’s election.

Sadly, the elections further down the ballot proved to be much of the latter, and though there was no contest for the position of first vice president, the second vice presidential election’s first ballot elected in a runoff, with Dave Miller, a pastor and blogger from Iowa being elected on the second ballot. Dave is a friend and a good man, but I’m of the opinion that if blogging is your claim to notoriety, you have no business being elected to a convention-wide office. I shared this sentiment with Dave after the election, and he laughed, and then he gently slapped me.

Entity Reports

The entity reports were encouraging as usual. As I stated above, I am a committed congregationalist, and as such, I was grateful for the change in our bylaws after the 2006 annual meeting which required that entities reserve not simply one third of the time allotted for their reports, but specifically that they reserve the last one third of that time, for discussion from the floor. There is no way in which the entities of the SBC are more accountable to the messengers of the convention than during that time, and prior to 2007, it was the custom of those delivering reports on behalf of the entities to begin by asking if there was any discussion, then proceeding to give their reports. I don’t fault those reporters for using that tactic, as it tended to minimize or even eliminate questions from the floor, but I’m glad the bylaw has been changed.

It is always good to hear reports that are focused on the spread of the gospel, and in New Orleans, messengers were not disappointed. The Great Commission was mentioned in each and every report, and stories of faithful Baptists carrying out this charge were prominent, as well they should be, in the reports from our two mission boards.

The seminary reports were similarly encouraging, as messengers were told about legions of young men and women being trained for kingdom work in our churches and around the world.

I was grateful that the time for questions was utilized well during the LifeWay report. In years past, it has been “crazy uncle” time, but this year, a questioner with some sanity rose to the microphone and gave Dr. Rainer an opportunity to explain their process for determining what they will sell in their stores. The thrust of his response was that we should trust those we have elected to oversee LifeWay, and I couldn’t agree more.

My moment of discouragement during the reports came during the report delivered by the president of the ERLC. The discouragement has not to do with the content of the report, but with the time at the end rightly allotted for questions. I mentioned in the section on moti

ons that a motion was offered by a messenger from Oklahoma attempting to get the convention on record opposing the recent actions of the ERLC president, actions for which he has apologized repeatedly and publicly. I was discouraged that this messenger did not display the courage to take advantage of the opportunity to question the president directly and openly on the floor of the convention. That the messenger continues to blog disparagingly about the ERLC president only heightens my disappointment that no questions were addressed to the president when he stood before the convention to receive them.

Resolutions

I was greatly encouraged by the spirit that attended the report of the committee on resolutions, and the adoption of their recommendations with only friendly amendments here and there. Much of the conversation heading into that Wednesday session was focused upon two proposed resolutions. The first was on the “Sinner’s Prayer,” which emerged from the committee in edited form as “An Affirmation of the ‘Sinner’s Prayer’ as a Biblical Expression of Repentance and Faith.” The second was reported by the committee titled “On Cooperation and the Doctrine of Salvation.”

The “Sinner’s Prayer” resolution was thrust into the spotlight due to proclamations made by two leading pastors on different sides of the “Calvinist/traditionalist” divide, and the committee did a commendable job of reworking the originally submitted and widely publicized submission into a resolution both sides could wholeheartedly support. Though there was an attempt by the anti-Calvinist faction to add an amendment that would have been fatal, the attempt failed, and the convention overwhelmingly adopted the resolution.

The resolution on cooperation passed as well, giving me and many others great hope that the convention will not divide over soteriological questions. Those who seek division solely on this basis among brothers and sisters in Christ who joyfully affirm the Baptist Faith and Message are being increasingly marginalized in conversations throughout the convention, as well they should.

Conclusion

As I’ve repeatedly said in this reflection, this convention left me greatly encouraged. Though I dearly missed the ability I have had in years past to participate directly, I was gratified by the mood I sensed in the convention hall that the desire to cooperate for gospel advance is greater that any desire to divide over issues that, while significant, pale in comparison to the agreement we find in our common confession. In convention hall encounters, meals shared with friends old and new, and chance hallway meetings, this sense of cooperation permeated, with rare exception, every conversation I had in New Orleans. The future is bright, and I look forward to being a part of it.

In the preface, Dr. Dockery discusses our heritage, and the challenges it poses for the future. He also points out how postmodern thinking and the loss of our programmatic identity as Southern Baptists pose risks to our future cooperation. It is precisely this loss of a programmatic identity that points to the need for a renewed consensus on which to base our future cooperation. His itemized steps focus primarily on the authority of scripture, but they begin by pointing out the importance of our heritage as Baptists. This neatly provides the rationale for the content that follows.

Dr. Dockery has organized that content into two parts. The first part, “Theological and Historical Perspectives,” is composed of chapters written, as the heading suggests, by theologians and historians. An essay by R. Albert Mohler, Jr. asks if we as Southern Baptists have a future together. He concludes that we do, and in this chapter introduces the concept of “theological triage” (p. 31) as a way of categorizing our disagreements by their ultimate importance as we continue debate. Though itself often the subject of debate, this concept of triage is an important contribution to our ongoing discussion in the SBC.

The outstanding Baptist theologian R. Stanton Norman seeks to answer the question, “What makes a Baptist a Baptist?” He does so with thoroughness, helpfully identifying the “constituent elements of Baptist distinctives,” (p. 44) and ecclesiological distinctives rise to the top as primary. Gregory Wills contributes an essay offering a historical perspective. He begins with the recent controversy surrounding inerrancy, but then goes on to trace the history of Baptists, and again, ecclesiology surfaces as a prominent distinction.

Timothy George follows with a chapter asking, “Is Jesus a Baptist?” The Beeson Divinity School Dean offers three strategies by which our cooperative work can continue. Russell Moore’s chapter, “Learning from Nineteenth-Century Baptists,” is an application of the life and work of T.T. Eaton (1845-1907) to our current situation, offering many helpful insights. Paige Patterson contributes an essay discussing what we can learn from the Anabaptists. James Leo Garrett, Jr. closes Part 1 with a discussion of the beginnings of Baptist belief, beginning with the church fathers and the early creeds and continuing through the Reformation to the English Puritans.

Part Two, “Ministry and Convention Perspectives,” is a wide-ranging discussion of the state of our cooperative union, from the perspective of those serving in all areas of denominational life. These perspectives originate from the Executive Committee to our publishing house to the seminaries, and all the way up to the local church, the top of the ladder in SBC life. Jim Shaddix offers a pastor’s perspective on the future of the traditional church. Michael Day gives a somewhat radical picture of the future of associations and state conventions, suggesting that theological and mission-focused affinity will soon trump geographic proximity in these organizations.

Ed Stetzer and Thom Rainer address the way in which we see our mission, given by our Savior, to take the gospel to every nation. Richard Land discusses the nature of religious liberty, a hallmark of Baptist identity since the Anabaptists, and Nathan Finn outlines those things that should mark our cooperation into the future, primarily a recovery of our identity as Baptists. Part Two begins with an essay by Morris Chapman, past president of the Executive Committee, discussing the nuts-and-bolts of our cooperative, yet independent, work together as Southern Baptists.

The content of these essays, though varied in background and intent, hold together well on the basis of the overall purpose of the book, which is to call us back to a family discussion about who we are as Southern Baptists. Though at times they can seem to veer off topic, as a whole the book accomplishes the purpose set out in the introduction, namely to call us back to a discussion of what it is that sets us apart from our brothers and sisters in Christ who hold to other traditions.

The distinctives that emerge consistently from the essays in this volume are baptism by immersion, a regenerate church membership, and a commitment to the idea of a free church in a free state, with no power vested in either to interfere with the other. These are the ideas that make us Baptists, and this volume is supremely helpful in focusing us on these discussions, to the exclusion of those things that would distract us.

Throughout the excellent essays contained in this collection, one theme continually resurfaces as the definitive distinctive of Southern Baptists: ecclesiology. More than anything else, the way that we approach the function and work of the church sets us apart from the rest of the evangelical world. It is here that our discussions as Southern Baptists ought to be focused, because it is here that our true unity lies. When we seek uniformity on issues not foundational to our identity as Baptists, the result will be bickering, infighting, fracture, and perhaps ultimately the dissolution of our great cooperative union.

As illustration, one need look no further than the cautions put forth by Dr. George in chapter four. In the first strategy he identifies, “Retrieval for the Sake of Renewal,” he argues that we must not ignore our history in seeking to be New Testament Christians, but that all of our history ought to be understood and embraced only as it lines up with the clear teaching of scripture. To that end, he addresses the question, “Are Baptist Calvinists?” His approach to that issue can teach us a great deal as we look at the discussions currently ongoing within our convention of churches.

His answer to the question speaks directly to us in these discussions, and his answer ought to be the end of them, at least as they are now dividing Baptist from Baptist within our confessional denomination. He says, simply, “some are and some are not, and it has been thus among Baptists for nearly 400 years.” (p. 95) This ought to be understood by every Calvinist in the SBC who believes and writes that to be less than fully Calvinistic is to flirt with the heresy of Pelagius. By the same token, it ought to be taken to heart by every “traditionalist” who believes in his heart that the convention, in order to survive, must be purged of all those who hold to all five of the Dordtian responses to the students of Arminius.

In an article first written at my request for another blog, and recently republished in Baptist Press, Paige Patterson addressed the relationship between Calvinists and non-Calvinists in the Southern Baptist Convention by pointing to the split that occurred between the General and Particular Baptists in eighteenth century England, and the disastrous results for both camps. The General Baptists lost their doctrinal emphasis and headed into universalism, while the Particular Baptists became anti-missionary hyper-Calvinists. The emphasis of each group balanced the other, and without each other, both became irrelevant in fairly short order.

This is a clear warning for the Southern Baptist Convention. Both Calvinists and “traditionalists” need to appreciate the contribution of the other without insisting on uniformity. We are a confessional people, and the confession adopted by our convention is big enough to contain both groups.

What is needed in the SBC today is a vigorous discussion of the topics addressed in this excellent book. Issues of ecclesiology are being minimalized in churches large and small across our convention, and this is where the energy we have for debate must be expended. Our very existence as Baptists is at stake, yet we are being distracted by debates that matter less. In the process, we are in danger of losing the distinctives that make us Baptist.

Purves, Andrew. (2001). Pastoral Theology in the Classical Tradition. Louisville, Kentucky, Westminster John Knox Press.

This little book seeks to address the author’s concern that the practice of pastoral care “is, by and large, uninformed by historical practice.” (5) Purves identifies the need for “a profound reappraisal of core working assumptions in pastoral theology,” (5) and to this need, seeks to apply wisdom gleaned from five figures in church history: Gregory of Nazianzus, John Chrysostom, Gregory the Great, Martin Bucer, and Richard Baxter.

His selection of these five was directed by the fact that they wrote directly about the work of the pastor, rather than addressing specific issues of theological debate.

SUMMARY

After a brief introduction, to which I shall return in my critique, Purves summarizes the contributions of each of these five figures in succeeding chapters. Each chapter is divided into a brief biographical section, a discussion of common themes in the subject’s theology, and finally an analysis of the pastoral theology of each man. These chapters are headed with the title of the work for which each figure is credited by Purves with having contributed significantly to the development of pastoral theology.

Chapter one, Gregory of Nazianzus ‘In Defense of His Flight to Pontus’, identifies several recurring themes in Gregory’s theology, such as his belief that the theologian must receive “a special call” (13), and his understanding of the final goal of the Christian life, which he called “deification.” (14) Purves also briefly discusses Gregory’s understanding of the Trinity, Christology, and anthropology, before moving to a discussion of his pastoral theology. This section discusses at length Gregory’s view of the pastor as a “physician of souls,” whose goal it is “to contend on behalf of God and thereby to lead people back to God.” (19) Other topics addressed include the difficulties of pastoral work, the spiritual requirements for being a pastor, and the life background, call, and obedience to that call of those who aspire to the pastoral office. This chapter concludes with an outline of Gregory’s The Flight to Pontus.

John Chrysostom and his Six Books on the Priesthood are the subject of chapter two. Following the biographical summary, Purves addresses Chrysostom’s approach to exegesis by describing the difference between the heavily allegorical Alexandrian school of Origen and Philo, and the Antiochene approach, of which Chrysostom is “the best-known representative,” (39) and which “clearly aimed at ameliorating the excesses of Alexandrian allegorical exegesis and spirituality.” (39) Purves then discusses “Chrysostom’s Antiochene Christology,” before moving to a treatment of his pastoral theology. In discussing the nature of the pastoral office, Chrysostom was clear that it “must be understood theologically first of all to be a sharing in Christ’s own love for his people.” (43) Before anything else, a pastor must heed Christ’s call to Peter: “Feed my sheep.” Purves concludes the chapter with a discussion of Chrysostom’s teaching on the moral and ethical dimension of pastoral work.

In chapter three, Purves turns to Gregory the Great, and his enduring work, Pastoral Care. Themes identified by Purves in the theology of Gregory include the relation between the natural and the supernatural, the balanced approach to life which Gregory called consideratio, and the nature of the Christian life. Gregory’s belief that “in salvation the human also must act” (62) has far-reaching consequences for his understanding of the Christian life, a life in which “ambivalence and terror…never go away.” This will have many implications for his pastoral theology.  Much of this theology is discussed in terms of the character of the man who would hold the office. This was of primary importance to Gregory, whom Purves quotes: “No one does more harm in the Church than he, who having the title or rank of holiness, acts evilly.” (65) Purves then examines Gregory’s teaching on the life of the pastor, as well as his understanding of the practice and complexities of pastoral work.

On the True Pastoral Care is, says Purves, “the principal Reformation text on pastoral theology.” (76) Martin Bucer, its author, is the subject of chapter four. After a biographical summary, Purves identifies election and justification, scripture, love, and the Eucharist as themes in Bucer’s theology.  In his pastoral theology, Purves recognizes two dominant themes that inform Bucer’s teaching: the role of the Bible, and a focus on Christ. Indeed, says Purves, Bucer “displays a remarkable awareness of the active personal rule of Jesus Christ in and over his church.” (84) These themes are woven throughout Purves’s examination of Bucer’s understanding of the scope of pastoral care, addressing such themes as evangelism, pastoral discipline, and care for the weak.

Richard Baxter and The Reformed Pastor are the focus of chapter 5. The biographical summary in this chapter is preceded by a brief history of Puritanism. Themes in Baxter’s theology identified by Purves include the practical application of the Christian faith to everyday life, and the doctrine of justification. The discussion of Baxter’s pastoral theology begins with an emphasis of the spiritual formation of the pastor. This is primary for Baxter, as Purves notes, “…he is more concerned with the pastor’s life in God than with the parishioner’s, because adequate attention to the latter is possible only by one who has paid attention to the former.” (105) He then discusses Baxter’s emphasis on conversion as a pastoral goal, and concludes by looking at Baxter’s insistence on pastoral care as individualized care, as a “personal ministry to persons.” (111)

Having surveyed the lives and pastoral theologies of these figures, Purves reaches several conclusions in his final section regarding the confessional content of pastoral care, the necessity to root both pastoral care and pastoral theology in the study of the scriptures, and the necessity of the office itself. Purves also offers conclusions about the need for pastors to care for themselves and the accountability to God for their conduct of the office. In each of these conclusions, Purves bemoans the current state of pastoral theology and argues that an intentional reclamation of the classical tradition will lead to a more robust and balanced practice of pastoral care today.

CRITIQUE

I found this book to be enormously helpful for gaining a broad look into the lives of men about whom I knew practically nothing. While I recognized all five names, I knew them only as placeholders on a timeline of the history of the church. This book introduced them to me afresh as serious and passionate men of God, men who thought deeply and wrote helpfully from their perspectives in order to advance the practice of pastoral care. As someone called by God to serve His people in a local church, I am grateful for the lives and writings of these men, and grateful to Purves for his excellent summaries. If nothing else, I can recommend the book for this.

My concerns with the book are mainly to do with its stated purpose. I know nothing about the author that is not revealed in this book, but he clearly writes from a mainline Protestant liberal perspective. He seeks to rescue pastoral care from the modern movement, a movement he says, “…within the North American Protestant theological academy by and large revolves around psychological categories regarding human experience and symbolic interpretations about God.” (3) I have no doubt this is the case, but Purves offers the wrong cure. This is a book summarizing what five men have written regarding the work of the pastor. If Purves wants to save us from “human experience and symbolic interpretations,” the solution is not going to be found in the writings of fallible men, however inspiring and truth-filled they may be. The solution is going to be found in the infallible Word of God. Sadly, the “North American Protestant theological academy” has long-since abandoned that solution.

CONCLUSION

Purves opens this book with a story about being called to the bedside of a dying former church member. He talks about this woman’s need for “a reminder of the reality and truth behind the central doctrines of the Christian faith as they applied to her life at the point of her death.” (1) The solution to the problem of contemporary pastoral care identified by Purves as his reason for writing lies here, in “reality and truth” as revealed in scripture. A good grasp of the historical development of pastoral theology is certainly useful, and this book does a good job of at least introducing the reader to the topic. But recovering pastoral care from the pop-psychology and humanistic practices that are so prevalent today requires a return to the conviction that in the pages of the Bible, we have a sure and certain Word from God that informs all of the work we do and the lives we live as under shepherds of the Great Shepherd.

Thom Rainer & Eric Geiger, Simple Church. Nashville, TN: B&H Publishing Group 2006. Pp. 257. $19.99. Hardcover.

Bringing their experience and research to bear on the organization of the local church, Rainer and Geiger argue that less is more. Specifically, they argue that a church that does less, but does so with a clear focus on their process for the making of disciples is more effective than a very active church that is not intentional about moving people to greater levels of faithfulness in their walk with Christ. This effectiveness is measured by consistent growth in worship attendance.

SUMMARY

This book is divided into two parts. In the first, the authors begin with the bold assertion that “the simple revolution has begun.” Indeed, this is the title of the first chapter, and the central assumption on which the rest of the book is based. It also seems that this assumption is the basis upon which the research that fills out the book was based. An illustrative fictional story from the perspective of an overly busy pastor is shared, and examples from corporate America are cited in the first chapter.

The authors move in the second chapter to a description of evaluative visits made to examples of a “simple church” and a church that has yet to join the revolution. The authors examine every aspect of each congregation, including programming, staff meetings, calendars, numbers, and how the churches handle new ideas and staffing decisions. Each of these is evaluated in terms of how it contributes to the simplicity or complexity of each ministry.

Chapter three uses the illustration of the popular television program “Extreme Makeover: Home Edition” to argue for the need for an “extreme makeover” in many congregations in order to simplify their work. They explain the motivation and design of the research project of which this book is a result, and introduce four terms that will be the focus of the second part of the book: Clarity, movement, alignment, and focus. The fourth chapter explains how these terms apply to three existing congregations.

Part two, titled “Becoming a Simple Church,” explains each of these terms in great detail; in fact, each is given its own chapter. Chapter five, “Clarity,” argues for the need for a clear understanding of what the church’s discipleship process should look like, using the analogy of a builder with clear blueprints. Chapter six, “Movement,” explains the importance of “removing congestion,” and moving through a never-ending process of discipleship. The seventh chapter, “Alignment,” points to the importance of making sure that all the programs of the church are united in their commitment to the overall progra

m of disciple-making within the church. Chapter eight, “Focus,” discusses the importance of doing only those things that contribute to the overall purpose of making disciples, and saying no to almost everything else.

The final chapter gives a step-by-step process for implementing the “simple” process in a local congregation, and it is followed by appendices detailing the research methodology and addressing frequently asked questions.

CRITIQUE

This book is written in an easy, conversational style, and it is a relatively quick read. The first-person plural is employed throughout, giving the book a very personable feel. The appeals to research are compelling, and the illustrations from the corporate world and the popular culture are quite helpful to the reader in gaining an understanding of the argument the authors present.

But from the perspective of biblical faithfulness, this book has some troubling aspects. First, the only apparent metric by which the authors judge a church to be “vibrant,” “healthy,” or “effective” is numerical growth over a five-year period (65). The control group for their research, what they called the “comparison group,” was composed of churches that had not grown numerically, or had declined, over the same period. Second, while there are certainly numerous appeals to scripture in the arguments made in this book, they are significantly outnumbered by the appeals to statistical analysis, business realities, and cultural illustrations.

Another concern is for that great majority of churches that have less than 100, or even less than 50, members. The actions counseled in this book may work well in churches of 300+, where volunteers are plentiful and ministry loads can be spread over a broad group. But in a small church, where everyone does everything, implementation of this counsel may be difficult or impossible to implement.

CONCLUSION

While numerical growth can certainly be a sign of health and vitality in a congregation, it is far from a guarantee. There are many examples of “churches” in American evangelicalism that are growing exponentially, yet they are demonstrably unfaithful when it comes to the proclamation of the gospel of Jesus Christ. Certainly this faithfulness ought to be considered when gauging a church’s “effectiveness,” but this appears not to be a consideration within the pages of Simple Church. At the same time, the churches that faithfully proclaim the truth of the saving message of scripture yet do so in small congregations and in complete obscurity are myriad. Because the research upon which this book is based makes no attempt to analyze this faithfulness statistically, it is biased toward “growing” churches, rather than faithful churches.

Doubtless there are principles and processes counseled in Simple Church that can be of benefit to churches seeking greater faithfulness to our Lord’s command to make disciples. Unfortunately, they must be filtered through the wisdom from corporate or popular culture that may or may not apply to the church. The weight of the advice in the book comes from these arenas, rather than from the Word of God, making it difficult to separate the timeless from the popular.

Simple Church can certainly be of benefit to the congregation seeking to make disciples as Christ commanded, but a great deal of discernment will be needed to separate the wheat from the chaff.

The work Verduin seeks to accomplish in this volume is thoroughly to describe the major issues that separated Reformers such as Luther, Calvin, and Zwingli from those who believed their reforms did not go far enough. These he identifies as the stepchildren of the reformers, justifying this moniker by their treatment at the hands of those in whom they had early placed such great hope. With a focus upon the relationship between the ecclesiastical and the civil authority, Verduin details the distinctions between these two groups as they arose around various beliefs and practices of the stepchildren.

SUMMARY

Verduin accomplishes his task by detailing, in eight chapters, eight of the terms of derision hurled at the stepchildren by the Reformers. Each of these terms is simultaneously descriptive and misleading, which was likely the intent behind their use. The first, and lengthiest, chapter, Donatisten, gives a detailed description of the controversy that arose in the fourth century surrounding the followers of Donatus in northern Africa. In his description of the Donatist schism, Verduin devotes considerable space to the development of the concept of a “sacral society,” by which he means a “society held together by a religion to which all the members of that society are committed” (23). He casts the rebellion of the Donatists as a protest against that ideal, and describes how the stepchildren came to be derided as “neo-Donatists.” This “sacral society” concept Verduin identifies as coming to dominate the West in the “Constantinian change,” wherein the formerly persecuted primitive church becomes the unifying religion of the empire, and the object of rebellion not only for the stepchildren of the Reformation, but for “heretics” throughout the medieval period. This will be foundational to Verduin’s argumentation in much of the rest of the book. The second chapter, Stäbler, discusses the penchant of the stepchildren for carrying a staff as a symbol of their protest against the coercive power of the sword that had been brought into the church at the Constantinian change. Chapter three, Catharer, describes the Radical emphasis on the changed life of the truly converted, as contrasted with the “conductual-averagism” necessary to a church coextensive with the empire. Chapter four, Sacramentschwärmer, discusses the development of the sacramental view of salvation in the established church, and the stepchildren’s biblical aversion to it. The fifth chapter, Winckler, is not as concerned with the secrecy of Radical gatherings that led to the epithet as with the unlicensed nature of the ministry carried out by them. Wiedertäufer is the title of chapter six, and it is a signature of the Radical Reformation. The Anabaptists themselves, of course, saw themselves innocent of the charge, convinced as they were by scripture that only a believer could be truly baptized. Kommunisten, the charge that the stepchildren had not only their possessions but also often their wives in common, is dealt with in chapter seven, and chapter eight, Rottengeister, is something of a catch-all, describing several practices for which the Radicals were accused of faction-making.

CRITIQUE

This volume has many strengths for which to recommend it, and comparatively few weaknesses of which to complain. Verduin’s depth of knowledge of the subject shines through his many appeals to primary sources, the quotation of which is well balanced and helpful. And while the focus throughout the book is upon the period of the Reformation, readers of a free-church persuasion will appreciate the author’s recognition of “heretics” throughout history who have stood for the principles for which the Radical Reformers suffered so greatly. A couple of potential negatives bear mentioning. Readers may take issue with Verduin’s characterization of the Anabaptist’s argumentation against infant baptism, reliant as it was on the New Testament witness, as a “demotion of the Old Testament” (i.e. at 210). Perhaps the reference is only meant to be comparative to the Reformer’s supposed elevation of the Old Testament, but the repeated use of this phrase by the author can leave the impression that the Radicals held a sub-orthodox doctrine of revelation. Additionally, readers not fluent in the German, Dutch, or French languages may be discouraged by the amount of material missed in the largely untranslated footnotes. These minor quibbles, however, should not be an obstacle to thorough enjoyment of an enormously beneficial book.

CONCLUSION

It is difficult to overstate the timeliness of the principles for which the stepchildren of the Reformation suffered, principles that leap from every page of Verduin’s excellent work. This is especially true for Christians in America. The biblical principles for which the Radical Reformers stood, principles that led to the contemptuous nicknames that headed each of these chapters, all struck at the heart of the monolithic society created by the Constantinian change. Such a society, bound together by a religion embraced by all of its members, had no room for the dissenter, and those whose conscience led them to different conclusions were either forced underground or set ablaze. The courage of the Anabaptists and their Radical brethren began the slow process of change to this ideal, culminating with the enshrinement in the United States Constitution of the ideal of what Verduin repeatedly calls a “composite society,” made up of many constituent parts, of which the church is but one. The constitution forbids the state from establishing any religion by its favor, and from inhibiting any individual from the exercise of his religion according to the dictates of his own conscience. In such a system, the church was free to be the church, to persuade men, and to carry out its work, simultaneously unaided by the coercive arm of the state and unmolested by it. Verduin devotes significant space in his postscript to contemporary dangers to America’s composite society. More space is given to the danger he sees in the potential of the ecumenical movement to establish an “American religion,” one “to which every right-thinking American would be expected to rally” (278) He rightly suggests this would lead to “a new sacralism” requiring a new “second front” rebellion. Considerably less space is given to Verduin’s concerns regarding secular pressure on the free exercise of religion, a danger that, nearly fifty years after his writing, looms substantially larger than the rise of any “American religion.” Contemporary American society is unlikely to codify as official the status of any religion rising out of ecumenism, no matter how unified. But in an age of state-controlled health care and other major industry, it takes no imagination whatever to see the danger posed to those whose convictions would forbid them to participate in whatever a secular government might insist is mandatory. In America today, the “free exercise” clause of the first amendment is under direct assault. Lessons learned from the stepchildren of the Reformation will serve well the convictional free churchman forced to navigate these disturbing waters.

Two ways. One is a demand answer; one is a supply answer.

The demand answer is simple. There are so many young, educated people who are struggling with ambition and isolation. They come out of a blue-collar background or a farm background and find themselves working in the jungle of Los Angeles or Cincinnati. They need something to offset that intensely competitive, high-pressure, high-stress environment. They need something that they may not be conscious of, but something that restores balance and sanity. They need community.

On the supply side, more and more churches are what I call “pastoral churches.” Their purpose is not to perpetuate a particular liturgy or maintain an existing institutional form. Instead, they’re asking what my business friends would call the marketing question: “Who are the customers, and what’s of value to them?” They’re more interested in the pastoral question (“What do these people need that we can supply?”) than in the theological nuances (“How can we preserve our distinctive doctrines?”).

These churches are growing partly because the younger people need pastoring and not just preaching, and partly because, very bluntly, people are dreadfully bored with theology. They can’t appreciate the subtleties. And I sympathize with them. I taught religion; I didn’t teach theology. I’ve always felt that quite clearly the good Lord loves diversity.

Of course, there is no mention of a “youth minister” in the Bible. But I know they exist, because I used to be one, and it is a curious relationship. Each of the four churches I served in this capacity insisted that I meet the biblical qualifications of an elder as laid out in the pastoral epistles, yet none of them viewed me as someone serving in the role of an elder. In fact, I’m convinced that some of them desired me to function more like Julie McCoy on “The Love Boat.”

My friends who come from a more Calvinistic perspective are insistent that a church be governed by a plurality of elders. The ones who are also good Baptists will substitute “led” for “governed.” But they certainly have a point to make biblically when it comes to the plural nature of the office. While there is biblical warrant for the idea of an individual elder leading a church, elders are most often referred to in the plural. But my conversation with my friend has me thinking that perhaps there is a healthier middle ground.

While it may already be implicit in larger congregations, I have found very few where those men serving on staff are explicitly recognized by the congregation as “elders” in the biblical sense. Indeed, it is much more common (and devastatingly unbiblical) for church members to view the deacons in that way, and to view these staff ministers simply as hired hands. As someone who was once fired without notice by a group of deacons (who then fired the pastor in similar, though slightly kinder, fashion), I know whereof I speak. But this post isn’t about deacons, it’s about elders.

What I’m suggesting is that churches ought to become much more intentional about viewing those on what is commonly called “the ministerial staff” as elders, and not simply as guys hired to lead worship/youth ministry/children’s ministry. This intentionality must begin with the writing of a job description, and continue through recruiting and calling someone to serve a congregation. The way people approach a “youth director” will be much different from the way they approach an elder to whom the church has given the responsibility for oversight of the youth ministry. The same holds true for the “song leader,” the “education director,” and so on. If a church approaches these roles with this kind of biblical seriousness, it seems to me that difficulties like the one my pastor friend face will become fewer and further between. Amazing how often that’s true when we seek greater faithfulness to what scripture teaches.

But this episode has caused me to think about the practice of VBS invitations, and I believe there is much more caution needed than there is caution exercised in our churches when it comes to this issue. I’m aware of a church not far from where I serve where the pastor did something rather disturbing last year. When it came to the time for an invitation to trust Christ to be extended, all the younger children were dismissed, leaving only children in grades 4-6 in the room. This is commendable, and this step would make it seem that this pastor was understanding of the need to avoid emotionalism, and that he was trying to avoid false conversions. But what happened next was startling.

With only the older children now present, he outlined the ABC’s of becoming a Christian, and if you’re a Southern Baptist involved in VBS, you can sing these to at least four or five different tunes, courtesy of the freakishly talented Jeff Slaughter. After his presentation, he told everyone present to bow their heads, close their eyes, and repeat after him as he led them in a “sinner’s prayer*.” When he was done, he said that all who had prayed that prayer (which he had just instructed them to pray) should come to the front, publicly professing their new-found faith in Christ.

The following Sunday, this pastor stood before his church and announced that every single child in grades 4-6 who attended their VBS had been saved that week. Many of them were presented to the church that Sunday or following Sundays as candidates for baptism, and most were subsequently baptized. But not all.

I heard this story from the parent of one girl in that group, who responded as directed to the VBS invitation, but later recognized that nothing had changed in her heart, and she was only responding because that’s what everyone in the room was told to do. Her family is very involved in the church, and they’re there almost every Sunday. So, the pastor came looking for her. He took her out of Sunday School, without her parent’s knowledge, and asked her why she hadn’t presented herself for baptism. As far as I know, the child has not yet been baptized.

There are many forms of spiritual abuse. Men who use their positions of ecclesial authority in order to subjugate or gain favors from women are despicable. Those who would use their power in order to keep wrongdoing from being brought to light will face the harsh judgment of their all-seeing Creator. But in terms of eternal consequences, I’d be hard pressed to identify much that is worse than gaining, by coercion of peer pressure or other manipulative tactics, a false profession of faith in Christ from a child. For my son, and the girl in the story above, the damage is minor, and temporary. I believe in the promises of God, and have confidence that these children are being trained up in the way they should go, and they’ll have full opportunity to hear, understand, and respond to the gospel. But for so many of the children who populate our VBS rolls each summer, this is the only contact they have with our churches, or any church. To offer assurance of salvation to someone who may never hear the truth again simply because they correctly repeated several sentences with their eyes closed may have consequences far greater than any other kind of spiritual abuse I can imagine, because those consequences may be eternal.

I love VBS. I love the way the Bible lessons and Jeff Slaughter’s music imprint truth from God’s Word upon young hearts. But we must be cautious. In our zeal to see children come to faith in Christ, we must make sure that it is the work of the Holy Spirit, and not the result of our own manipulation, that has done the converting. Only one of these actually has the power to bring new life.

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*I’m all for sinners praying, but I will never tell someone who wants to become a Christian what the content of that prayer ought to be. I’ll explain what the Bible says about how one is saved, and leave the wording up to the individual and the Holy Spirit.

Much of the break has been due to my studies at Liberty University. Twenty years ago, when I should have been pursuing my education, I was instead pursuing my dream of becoming a major league baseball umpire. Sadly, that didn’t work out as planned, but by the time it became clear that it wasn’t going to work out, life had intervened, and a college education seemed to me to be out of reach. It pretty much stayed out of reach, from my perspective, for the next decade.

Then my friend and SBC Today co-founder Joe Stewart told me about an organization called the Liberty Baptist Fellowship. Founded by Jerry Falwell in the early 1980′s, the group has two primary functions: to plant Baptist churches, and to certify chaplains to the armed forces of the United States. Only churches hold membership in this group, and one of the benefits had always been a tuition-free scholarship to Liberty University, either to study on campus or through their distance learning program. That scholarship benefit has tightened up considerably since Dr. Falwell’s death, but it still exists. When I began, the minimum contribution for a church the size of the one I serve was $25 per month, and this made a scholarship available for all full-time staff members. As of January 2011, the minimum contribution became $200 per month per scholarship, and the scholarships are limited in number. I understand that there is now a waiting list.

Even at that higher rate, discerning readers will recognize that this is still an absolute bargain, and I took full advantage. I began studies in the spring of 2008, and on May 14 of this year, I walked across the stage at the Tolsma Indoor Track Center to shake hands with Dr. Elmer Towns and to receive the degree of Bachelor of Science in Religion.*

I’m sure this won’t be the end of my educational journey. I recognize that in order to be fully effective in the role to which God has called me, pastor of a local church, I need yet more training. I’ve done some investigating of various seminary options, and look forward to beginning work on my M. Div. just as soon as I figure out where to begin it. In the mean time, I plan to return to regular posting here. I will continue to focus on issues of interest to Southern Baptists, or at least to this Southern Baptist. I will continue to write in advocacy of a robust ecclesiology, and against forces and ideas that would weaken our distinctives as Baptists. And I’ll look forward to opportunities for interaction with readers.

I had a couple of opportunities last week in Phoenix to reflect upon the beginning of my blogging in 2006. The issues we faced then are not the issues we face now, but in many ways they are similar. What I remember most fondly about those days is the relationships formed, some through heated exchanges in the comments sections of various blogs. Time and time again I was forced more deeply into the scriptures, and forced to be ever more careful in articulating what I learned there. I don’t imagine this new phase of blogging will be anything like that, so different is the landscape today from what existed five years ago. But I look forward to making my contribution.

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*Dr. Towns didn’t actually hand me my diploma, of course. It was a fundraising letter with a ribbon around it.