Infants and Sacraments

My recent post on the role of the church in Christian education (link) brought to mind a post from several years ago in which I argued that only baptized persons can be "participants" in corporate worship:

...elders administer discipline to their sons, the visible flock over which they shepherd. If infants are never members of the visible church, then they are never disciplined by elders. You might discipline your son, but just because his friend is around when you do doesn't mean his friend is a "participant" in that discipline. To the extent one wants to speak of someone as a participant in worship and yet without discipline, I think such a person would be an illegitimate child rather than a son (Hebrews 12:7-8). (link)

To develop this further, unbaptized persons are onlookers. They are spectators rather than participants in liturgy. They are not, during corporate worship, authoritatively led, represented, instructed, or disciplined by elders. Just as elders guard the Lord's Supper, so too does baptism fence off participation in worship. Just as the Lord's Supper communicates covenant blessing or judgment, baptism analogously initiates one into either covenant blessing or curse. Sacraments are neither ex opere operato nor ex opere operantis. 

In this way do we see how sacramentology is tied to ecclesiology. Liturgical participants draw near to God. Those who do so in an unworthy manner will be judged more severely than those who do not draw near at all. Judgment begins at the house of God, after all. In a sense, it is for their own protection that unbaptized persons are not counted as participants, although it is obviously not good that they should remain as they are. Insofar as the Lord's Supper is proleptic of the marriage supper of the Lamb, everyone will have to reckon with the [Sabbath] day of the Lord sooner or later.

If Baptists agree - as they should - that unbaptized persons are not, in public worship, authoritatively led, represented, instructed, or disciplined by elders, that has significant implications. If one denies this by affirming that an elder, in his authoritative capacity as an elder, ought, in public worship, to instruct and discipline the unbaptized, I will only say that such a denial appears either 1) misconstrues liturgical duties of an elder or 2) trades on semantic ambiguity: some teaching, admonishment, etc. is proper or particular to an elder, whereas some teaching or admonishment is informal and not exclusive to that which only an elder can offer. 

Considering the second point first, we can say that in one sense, a Baptist elder can "teach" or "admonish" persons who are not members of the visible church (or even the invisible church). But to the extent that all men are needful of spiritual and physical nourishment, all Christians are capable of "teaching" or "admonishing" others by being living testimonies of the light of the gospel. In living such lives, through the work of the Spirit, some needs of all men may be met. Of course, that one has these needs met does not suggest that all his needs are met.

Case in point, what is being spoken of here is not proper or particular to an elder. I would argue that some of man’s spiritual needs can only be met by being members in the visible church. That is, I am not questioning whether Baptist elders are capable of meeting some needs of persons who are not in the visible church, needs that can also be met by laity in non-liturgical settings. Rather, I question whether Baptist elders are capable of meeting specific needs of unbaptized persons, particularly in the context of worship. 

I think a consistent Baptist would agree that Baptist elders can no more meet certain needs of unbaptized persons than a Presbyterian elder could - until the persons in question are baptized. Recognizing this would avoid the semantic ambiguity alluded to above and confirm a distinction in belief regarding ecclesial scope of authority, as Presbyterians baptize infants whom Baptists would not.

Now, given Baptistic thought that believing parents of infants have no obligation to incorporate said infants into the visible church (quite the contrary, in fact), it looks to be a straightforward inference that these infants are not, during worship, authoritatively led, represented, instructed, or disciplined by Baptist elders. And if a Baptist elder would say that he does not authoritatively lead, represent, instruct, or discipline unbaptized persons – if he attempts to be, as I see it, relatively consistent with Baptistic thought – then while one can certainly tell infants (or, for that matter, any unbaptized persons) that they need full, spiritual nourishment, while they remain unbaptized, a Baptist elder cannot be said authority or responsible for their spiritual nourishment.

This leads to another consideration: it seems Baptist elders should leave the extent to which unbaptized, infants are exposed to "teaching," "admonition," "discipline," etc. that is proper and particular to elders to parental discretion. In other words, if parents decided not to bring their infants to public worship until or unless they have made a credible profession, on what grounds could a Baptist elder voice a legitimate problem with that?

I find that most Christian parents want their infants (or unbaptized) children to be present for worship of God. However, the question is whether this intuition can be backed such that a Baptist elder could, consistent with Baptistic principles, morally obligate parents to bring their infants to worship by and in the midst of a visible, covenant community to which the infants do not, on Baptist grounds, "belong." Worship is a time particularly intended for the visible church to draw near to God, whereas the infant is implicitly told by Baptists that he does not belong as a worshipping member to the visible church. 

That I've met with resistance from Baptists on this question indicates to me some tension between Baptistic principles and Baptistic practice. Indeed, one wonders about the implications of the London Baptist Confession XXII.6 when it states, "God is to be worshipped everywhere in spirit and in truth; as in private families daily..." If infants can be counted as worshippers in private families, why not in the visible church? Or if they cannot be so counted as worshippers in private families, are they then not members of the private family worshipping? The tensions compound.

Turning to another argument for infant baptism, on Baptistic thought, ecclesiology and sacramentology don't mirror soteriology. Soteriologically, Reformed Baptists and Presbyterians agree that the Father monergistically elected and regenerates men, both of which [logically] precede the faith of these men - even dispositional faith (on how this importantly relates to infants, see here). Yet ecclesiologically and sacramentally, Baptists invert the order such that mature articulation of faith ought to precede [a holy parent or parents choosing the] baptism of [their] infants. This is odd, as baptism signifies regeneration.

I find Baptistic ecclesiology, sacramentology, and argumentation to be more unfortunately tied to pragmatism. Interestingly, some Baptistic arguments against infant baptism intentionally highlight this inverted order of events as experienced by members of the invisible church compared to those experienced by members in the visible church, arguing on pragmatic grounds that since infants can't remember their baptisms, the baptisms are of no use. Perhaps this is why some Baptists have historically gone further in expecting an articulation of a memorable conversion experience before admittance into the visible church.

In any case, this is like arguing that because one doesn't remember being named at the time of his naming, there is no use in the naming. On the contrary, those who belong in the midst of the visible covenant community just are those who have been named in baptism (Matthew 28:19). Both in the case of my personal naming and in my baptismal naming, testimonial evidence is sufficient for my "knowing" my own name (at least in an externalist sense); I don't need video evidence or to have been conscious during the namings for the namings to have had and continue to have significance. Not only are such pragmatic objections weak, they function to show how Presbyterian ecclesiology and sacramentology align with Presbyterian soteriology and anthropology. On further ways in which "-ologies of places and people at least tend to mirror one another," see here, here, here, and here. 

Finally, there is the objection that anyone who is baptized also should be allowed to partake of the Lord's Supper. In this way, Baptists actually agree with those of the Federal Vision movement like James B. Jordan, the latter of whose arguments for paedocommunion I find more challenging than pragmatic, Baptistic arguments against infant baptism. Jordan's ecclesiology and sacramentology are connected to his understanding of biblical theology. Take the following, which I cannot recall if I found through Jordan himself:

It is well known that the words of the nineteenth Psalm (1-4), mainly on the strength of St. Paul's adaptation of them (Rom. x. 18), have constantly received a spiritual application. The Church is the firmament which shews the handywork of God; in which day transmits to day and night to night in unbroken succession to the end of time, and to all the world, the wondrous story of the glory and grace of God. (Richard Chenevix Trench, Sacred Latin Poetry, pg. 206, link)

Jordan also argues that this symbolism is biblical (link). One enters the firmament-church through baptism just as entrance into the holy place of the tabernacle required passing by the bronze sea and through the veil. Once in the holy place or firmament, there is, before the priest, bread and wine. Bread is food that enables work, whereas wine signifies rest. Bread is protological and wine is eschatological. Thus, an OT tabernacle priest could eat bread but could not drink wine or sit down, for his work was never finished. 

Jordan further argues that bread and wine throughout the Old Testament tends to stand for a contrast between priestly infancy and kingly maturity. The OT was a time during which the people of God could participate in priestly rites but not kingly rest in the throne room; hence, only the high priest entered the holy of holies, he did so only entered once per year, and even then, his work was never finished such that he could enjoy rest. 

For priests to have drank wine at this point in redemptive history would have implied an over-realized eschatology. An over-realized eschatology is an eschatology which counts as having already happened cosmological events which we ought to still anticipate, such as the return of Christ (thus, Jordan argues against hyper-preterism). 

Before Christ, we were collectively as children and required guardians and tutors (Galatians 3-4). Christ, having completed the groundwork for our salvation and eschatological telos, has enabled His priestly people to move forward in redemptive history as we follow the directive of our enthroned King and drink the wine (signifying His blood) that the priests of the OT could not. Each Lord's day, we can enjoy anticipation of consummated, kingly rest in Him, our perfect sacrifice and High Priest. 

Even if we do not agree with Jordan in all the particulars, there does seem to be something to all this. There is a sort of macroecclesiastic, corporate, redemptive-historical progression the church had to experience before members of the church could drink wine. The whole of that which is invisible to us - the elect, the invisible church - are progressively being individually and visibly gathered into one (WCF XXV.I). As this has been and still is being realized in history, there has also been covenantal progression which, in turn, mirrors the sorts of progressions seen, for instance, on the anthropological, physical, or biological level - i.e. children eat bread long before they drink wine. 

In this way, Presbyterians avoid an over-realized ecclesiology, an ecclesiology which counts as having already happened ecclesiological events which we ought to still anticipate. Whereas now, the visible church has been given new privileges in administering sacraments which were not able to be administered under the older administrations of the covenant of grace, there is still more ingathering, maturing, and progressing to do before the members of the visible church are co-extensive with the invisible church, at which point we will enjoy the privilege of feasting with Christ face to face (Matthew 26:29).

Allowing all this, however, I suggest Jordan misses mirrors at the microecclesiastic, individual, soteriological level. We've just spoken of how the visible body collectively progresses and some analogues to it. At the same time, the whole grows only as the individual members who comprise the whole themselves grow. There must be recognized an individual progression in sanctification toward glorification as individuals put to death the deeds of their bodies (Romans 8:13). 

Just as we want to avoid an over-realized eschatology and over-realized ecclesiology, so too we want to avoid an over-realized soteriology, a soteriology which counts as having already happened soteriological events which we ought to still anticipate - such as the complete eradication of the subjective presence of sin. Jordan recognizes this much and argues against perfectionism (link).

...we must hold that indwelling sin remains and cannot be eradicated until the resurrection. Only the penalty of sin has been removed, and no matter what one does, he cannot reach a sinless state of pure fellowship. Whether he perceives it or not, sin is always present. Confession is important, but it is not magical. Certainly God wants man to confess his sin, but not to manipulate or penetrate the secret will of God. To think that confession can accomplish such things implies perfectionism. 

Rather than take this observation and consider analogues which might be found on this level, however, he follows: 

Today, Chafer’s book has tremendous influence in evangelicalism. Campus Crusade for Christ has popularized what Chafer taught in its Holy Spirit booklet, calling it “spiritual breathing.” Many other groups show the effect of this book in their emphasis on introspection. If confession of sin is emphasized apart from the objective worship of the people of God, it is individualized and internalized. Historically, the Christian Church has practiced objective and corporate confession of sin. It helps to prevent that kind of subjective introspection. It should not be overlooked, however, that Chafer’s theology is essentially Anabaptistic and has extended Anabaptist thought. It separates the objective from the subject in the same way Platonic thought did, and is in the final analysis an internalized subjective theology. 

Any retreat into the inner, personal, and subjective world of man takes him away from God’s righteous objective law. Even the scripture memory of the Pharisees and the Antonians obscured the Scripture itself because it was performed in the context of bad theology and practice. A subjective emphasis carries one away from objectivity. Once this happens, man begins to see his sin in terms of himself. As a result his sin disappears because of his own self deception. In other words, he thinks he is perfect, when he may in fact be in deep sin. Putting it another way, break the mirror and the shame disappears. The knowledge of sin comes via the law. All of the perfectionistic movements of history have rejected both a knowledge of the law and the knowledge of sin.

This is strange. Jordan seems to understand that progression is not merely a corporate phenomenon but a subjective, individual one as well, yet he seems to refuse to admit that dimension has a place in one's doctrine of worship. 

For example, Jordan understands that an over-realized physiology is a physiology which counts as having already happened physiological events which we ought to still anticipate, such as unrealistic physical expectations of those whose bodies have not yet sufficiently developed. As such, Jordan argues that youths should not play football:

...we have to agree with the opinion of physicians that football is unhealthy for young men. The Bible tells us, as does medical science, that our physical frames are not fully set and mature until we are around thirty years old. Up until that time, severe physical stress can do considerable damage to our young, developing bones and cartilege. Thus, God said that the Levites had to be between thirty and fifty years old in order to carry the heavy golden furniture of the Tabernacle (Numbers 4; this is also symbolic, since a man should be at least thirty years old before taking church office upon his shoulders.) Physicians complain that football is too risky for high school and college age youth. Many Christian schools have taken this advice seriously, and have turned to other, less dangerous sports. (link).

Likewise, can we not acknowledge subjective, relevant distinctions in worshippers? In fact, mustn't we acknowledge such distinctions in, say, considering who is qualified to function as an elder? I think Jordan conflates macroecclesial and microecclesial levels, leading him to an over-realized sacramentology, a sacramentology which counts as having already happened sacramental events which some ought to still anticipate - such as setting unrealistic spiritual expectations on ones who have not yet sufficiently developed to examine himself and discern the body (1 Corinthians 11:28-29). Jordan's understanding of this passage flattens it to such an extent that the subjectively diverse experiences mentioned in verse 30 become unintelligible.

When Jordan argues for paedocommunion, I think he misses that a progressive dimension exists in sacramentology just as in most other -ologies. He treats as what is now available to the visible covenant community - due to redemptive-historical progression - as being available to each member of the said community. In short, a fallacy of division.

Much more could be said regarding arguments against paedocommunion (or, for that matter, arguments for infant baptism). Here, I've only tried to organize some thoughts I haven't seen discussed much elsewhere. For those interested, I recommend this book and this series, the first video of which provides further biblical-theological reasons against paedocommunion.

Fesko's "Last Things First" 10

Just as Christology defines anthropology, eschatology defines protology; due to the Fall, one must know what will be in order to know what ought to have been. God’s covenants with men have repeatedly incorporated the idea of the necessity of the satisfaction of dominion mandate on the condition of perfect obedience, but to what end has not yet been examined in detail. In the last chapter of “Last Things First,” Fesko lengthens excursus on the Sabbath from consideration strictly within the circumstances of the Mosaic covenant to the greater context as bridge between protology and eschatology. Fesko’s thesis in this chapter is that, had Adam completed his probative labors, his reward would have been a permanent Sabbath, a rest which, simply put, would have consisted of eternal fellowship with God. If this “Sabbatical principle” is true, it would mean that eschatology precedes and even in some sense defines soteriology, a concept which would certainly have an impact on perspectives within modern theology.

A bilateral covenant possesses stipulations which have a terminus; a covenant with conditions that cannot be met is nonsensical. When considering whether not Genesis 1-2 contains evidence which could substantiate a claim that the ultimate end of Adam’s covenantal work was the Sabbatical principle, it is important to keep in mind that whatever else the case may be, had Adam completed his tasks, something would have had to happen. Merely from a probabilistic standpoint, then, that Adam’s efforts to subdue the surrounding disorder was analogous to God’s creative activity would at least mean it is reasonable to suppose that, upon the complete subjugation of all things to himself as God’s right hand, Adam would have, like God, rested. Also, if the sacramental function of the tree of life did not represent eternal life, it is difficult to imagine what it could have represented. Eating from the fruit of the tree of knowledge cost Adam his life; ostensibly, eating the fruit of the tree of life would have antithetically rewarded Adam with eternal life, life in which Adam would have gloried in God’s presence with His extensive family, ceasing any further duties which could have cost Adam his life.

Because Adam sinned, the means by which the Adamic work must be appropriated to those who themselves do not possess the capacity to satisfy the covenant of works is different. However, God’s plan throughout redemptive history is consistent with His design for the first Adam: He didn’t change the vocation for the second Adam (prophet, priest, and king), He didn’t alter the covenantal work for the second Adam (the dominion mandate), and He didn’t compromise the means by which the second Adam’s work must be accomplished (perfect obedience). In light of the harmony between the two federal heads of the covenant themselves, then, the burden of proof is on one who believes God has purposed the eschatological goal of the second Adam’s work to be different from that which He purposed as the eschatological goal of the first’s work to explain why he believes so. By considering the import of the Sabbath throughout redemptive history, then, one should have a fair understanding of its connection to Genesis 1-2.

As was mentioned in a previous chapter, Fesko points out that, insofar as the Sabbath pertains to soteriology, it is evident in passages like Exodus 31:13 and Hebrews 4 that salvation must be by grace alone through faith alone. The Sabbatical typifies God’s work to save us and our inability to do anything to cooperatively merit it, which, in redemptive history, is the point at which the foreshadowed need for Jesus and salvation “solus Christus” becomes clear. To work on the Sabbath must merit death (Exodus 31:14-15), because such work suggests that the worker believes he can merit his own salvation (Romans 6:23). As the fourth commandment in the 10 commandments and the sign of the covenant itself, the Mosaic covenant was the first instance since the Fall that the concept of the Sabbath enjoyed explicit emphasis. If one can discern the way in which Israel – who was, like Adam, a son of God (Exodus 4:22, cf. Luke 3:38) and priestly kingdom (Exodus 19:6, cf. Genesis 1:28) placed in Paradise (Exodus 33:1-3, cf. Genesis 1-2) – related to the Sabbath – given to each son of God upon completion of the creation of the contextual tabernacles (Exodus 25-31, cf. Genesis 1-2) – the protological relation between Adam and the Sabbath can in turn be better understood.

Of course, that the Sabbath possesses a soteric quality in the Mosaic covenant (e.g. Exodus 31:13) is disanalogous to its function in pre-redemptive history, but the antitypical reality to which each concept points is the same: rest or cessation from work (Exodus 31:15, cf. Genesis 2:2-3). The author of Hebrews, commenting on Numbers 14 in chapters 3-4, sheds more light on Israel’s relation to the Sabbath to stress the necessity of a persevering faith to his readers (Hebrews 4:3); it is noteworthy that he equates true believers with God’s household, which recalls one to Adam’s office as priest within the garden-temple (4:6). The author’s primary point, made in 4:8-11, is that entering the promised land itself was no more what it meant for Israel to enter the Sabbath than it was for Adam to simply dwell in Eden. This presupposes, however, that there is a real Sabbath into which the people of Israel – and his readers – would enter: a true, antitypical Sabbath which can only be attained if one perseveres in faith (4:3). This binds the protological to the eschatological. Each respective paradise was meant to be a type of the heavenly Paradise into which each person would really enter upon completion of the stipulations of the covenant, which reveals more clearly why God regarded the Sabbath as an everlasting sign between God and His people (Exodus 31:17).

Because only Christ could complete the covenant of works subsequent to Adam’s fall, He must and has entered into the Sabbath rest first (Hebrews 10:12-13). An important point that the author makes is that while Christ’s labors have ceased, the outworking of those labors continues. The creation is not “consummated,” but it is ensured. The dominion mandate – specifically, kingship – is mentioned in 10:13, but one could just as easily apply this concept to Christ’s role as intercessor, advocate, multiplier of children in the divine image, &c. His life and death, however, satisfied all the requisite demands of the covenant of works and its curse, so He really did complete all His labors on the sixth day of the week, resting on the Sabbath (John 19:31). Christ was aware His resurrection would begin a new creation from the beginning of His ministry (Luke 4:18-21), and the year of Jubilee to which He referred is, in fact, the Sabbath year (Exodus 23:10-11, Leviticus 25:7-18). This inaugurated new creation begets a new Sabbath day: Sunday, the first of the week on which Christ was raised (John 20:1). The reason is simple: unlike the covenant of works and Mosaic covenant, each of which illustrated the necessity of working for one’s salvation in order to be saved and enter rest by placing the Sabbath on the last day of the week, Christ’s completed work demands a change in perspective as to how one views salvation and God’s covenant with man – i.e. sola gratia – and correlative change in the structure of the week. Because Christ’s work has already guaranteed the covenant of works is fulfilled for believers, rest precedes work in new creation. Having been baptized into the new creation by the washing of regeneration, the believer exists in the “already-not yet” age in which there is work yet to be done (Romans 6:4), although it is work which Christ has already purchased.

Any covenant between God and man has a purpose. Because Adam sinned, it is necessary to examine the last things to know what the first things ought to have yielded. Because the eschatological goal is rest in every covenant in redemptive history – not to mention the scores of other parallels between the covenant of works, its republications, and the new covenant – it is illogical to assume that the Sabbatical principle has no roots in protology and covenant theology. Because the Sabbath is imbued with soteric implications since the Fall, however, the telos of the new creation will be different than the old; the elect will be clothed in Christ’s righteousness (Revelation 7:9-14) rather than stand naked before God. Christ’s work does not merely expiate sin and put mankind back in the prelapsarian state, His righteousness is imputed to believers, who are thereby regarded as having completed the covenant of works. One should consider that whatever occurs is inevitably a means towards this end, which actually promotes eschatology as among the first of doctrines which should be taught and considered in one’s hermeneutic approach to Scripture. In other words: “Last Things First.”

Final observations: This was simply a great book. It’s certainly inspired thoughts that I’ve never considered and allowed me to better understand the interconnectedness of Scripture. Covenant theology and eschatology were subjects which intrigued me but always seemed to be handled with too little care or in too technical a fashion for me to maintain any attention. This, however, was a meaty book put together in an easy-to-read fashion. I knew Fesko was a great lecturer, now I know he was a great writer. I’ll certainly look into his future works (including a forthcoming book on baptism), and I encourage anyone who found this review helpful to grab this and other books by the author. Thanks, Dr. Fesko.