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THE MYSTICAL WASHING AWAY OF SIN -II-
The Prayer Book's Theology of Incorporation Friday, November 5, 1999
by The Rev. Daniel K. Dunlap, Ph.D.,The Second in a series of lectures entitled Sacramental Life in the Common Prayer Tradition given on November 4-5, 1999 before the Diocesan Council of the Diocese of the North East and Mid-Atlantic of the Reformed Episcopal Church, USA. Be sure to read the First lecture First lecture and the Third Lecture
I. HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION.
Of the two dominical sacraments, the liturgy for the sacrament of Holy Baptism was no doubt the more difficult to revise. While the Eucharist had followed the same essential pattern since the earliest of times, the baptismal liturgies as they existed in the 16th century were actually conglomerations of many rites and rituals going back to ancient times, all of which assumed a missionary setting. (After all the early church was a missionary church.) Originally these rites - such as exorcism, election, the giving of salt, etc. - were part of a lengthy catechumenate designed for those who could "answer for themselves," that is to say, "those of riper years" rather than infants. By the Middle Ages, Western civilization was no longer a "mission field" per se, and so adults were less and less the subjects of Christian initiation. Moreover, the Augustinian doctrine of Original Sin, combined with a high infant mortality rate, had greatly impressed upon the Medieval mind the importance of bringing infants to baptism as soon as possible. As a result the multiple rites associated with the ancient pattern of Christian initiation were greatly abbreviated and brought together with the baptismal washing to constitute one single sacramental rite. The result was that since the Middle Ages the Church had been employing elaborate Christian initiation rites that made little sense in a context which assumed the almost exclusive practice of infant baptism. In the Reformers' estimation, such rites only served to obscure, by way of superfluous accretion, the central action of Christian initiation: the sacramental washing with water in the Name of the Triune God. The Reformers saw their task not only as one of stripping away centuries of meaningless ritual which obscured the sacrament, but also as giving accurate doctrinal expression to what that central action of sacramental washing actually meant in a Reformation context. But two challenges immediately confronted them. II. CHALLENGES TO A REFORMATION UNDERSTANDING OF BAPTISMThe first challenge came from the Scholastic theology of the Roman Church. Scholasticism viewed baptism as a renovation of the soul from the effects of original sin (concupiscence excepted). This was understood in terms of an infusion of Christ's righteousness into the soul of the child at his/her baptism resulting in a fruition of meritorious works throughout his/her lifetime. Obviously, the Reformers, to a man, perceived this as being in direct conflict with their agenda of justification by "faith only." The other challenge came from the so-called "radical wing" of the Reformation. The Anabaptists, or "Re-baptizers," had emphasized personal salvation to the extreme of challenging the whole premise of infant baptism altogether. According to Anabaptism, baptism is intended only for those who exhibit faith in Christ; baptism merely being the sign of personal faith. The mainstream Reformers were faced on the one side with the Roman view that compromised their "faith only" doctrine, and on the other with a view that denied that sacraments effected any grace whatsoever. To complicate matters, the major Reformers found little unanimity among themselves. All essentially agreed that Martin Luther had captured the heart of the issue. Luther had laid great emphasis on the importance of the divine promise or word attached to the element of water, without which baptism could hardly be considered a "sacrament," let alone a "means of grace." Moreover, the Reformation understanding of justification made it necessary to posit faith as the "key" that unlocks the grace offered in baptism. This was a direct challenge to the Scholastic understanding of the Augustinian notion of ex opere operato (i.e., the sacraments confer grace "out of the work worked," as a result of the act performed.)1 But how can infants be true recipients of baptism, let alone the grace offered in baptism, if they cannot believe? Luther answered, rather enigmatically, that God provides for the infant that which the infant cannot provide for him/herself: namely faith. This did not pose a serious theological dilemma for Luther since faith was always the gift of God anyway, whether one was an infant or an adult. Thus an infant received as a gift of grace in baptism, or perhaps shortly before, the seed of faith; though awareness of this faith would not come until later in life. On the other side of the spectrum is Luther's contemporary in Zurich: Huldrich Zwingli. Like the Anabaptists, Zwingli understood baptism merely as a sign of personal faith.2 Zwingli denied outright that baptism could be seen as the cause of subsequent faith, or that incipient faith was the basis for baptizing infants. Like grace, faith is completely at God's disposal. Thus, employing a Reformation version of Ockham's Razor, Zwingli concluded that since the Holy Spirit can act directly upon hearts and minds without ritual instruments, it is far better to suppose that the Spirit does just that. Still, Zwingli ardently defended the practice of infant baptism on account of its sign-value. Baptism symbolizes God's washing away of the guilt of Original Sin, a grace that is necessary even for infants. John Calvin's approach was entirely different. With a true zeal to maintain the objectivity of sacramental grace, Calvin retained much by way of the traditional instrumental language of the ancient baptismal rites when writing on the subject, especially in a liturgical context. Indeed, his 1542 baptismal liturgy, written for the Church of Geneva, speaks of God "conferring" the grace of salvation "on us, when it pleases Him to incorporate us in his church by baptism." So continues Calvin,
In the prayer that immediately precedes the administration of baptism, Calvin's liturgy prays on behalf of the infant for the remission of "the original sin of which the whole lineage of Adam is guilty," and that God would "sanctify him by [His] Spirit." Further on, that the infant would "obtain such grace" as God is pleased "to incorporate him in the fellowship of our Lord Jesus to be a partaker of all his benefits." Calvin concludes this prayer by imploring that the "baptism which we minister to him according to [God's] ordinance may bring forth its fruit and virtue." And yet, despite this effort to retain the language of instrument, Calvin was frustratingly ambivalent when writing about baptism in polemical contexts. For instance, in his celebrated debate with the Lutheran minister, Joachim Westphal, Calvin makes the fatal admission that his understanding of predestination leads him to conclude that if a child is numbered among the elect, he was already saved whether baptized or not. Consequently, if a child was not among the elect, baptism could do nothing to save him.4 At the end of the day all that can be stated positively about Calvin's view of baptism is that the sacrament serves as a seal on the promises of God to the elect.5 But for the theological descendents of Calvin (especially English Puritanism), it was a different story. Undue speculation on the eternal counsel of God in election led to a devaluation of the sacraments as objective means of grace altogether. Viewing sacraments as vehicles or instruments of grace was held to be suspect, even though the language was occasionally still employed. What was important to this whole new generation of "reformed" Christians was determining whether one was within the company of the eternally elect. Baptism could not tell you that. Communion could not tell you that. In fact, the only certain indications of one's "elect status" (according to some) were the subjective evidences of one's election: the sincerity of faith and its requisite fruition (i.e., good works). Moreover, these "evidences" were oftentimes judged against a qualitative standard too rigorous for all but those whose faith approached Olympian proportions. At best, the sacraments are consigned to the role of "acted parables," designed merely to excite faith. The focus of personal assurance is shifted from the objective signs of God's grace to the subjective evidences of one's conscience.6 Whereas Luther, when pained with oppressive doubts of his status in Christ, could rest assured in the objective fact of his baptism, a whole new generation of Protestants were being taught, at least implicitly, to distrust the objective outward signs as inherently deceptive in terms of personal assurance. 7 III. THE ANGLICAN WAY: INCORPORATIONFrom the outset, we must admit that the Prayer Book baptismal rite bears more than a passing resemblance to various Lutheran rites of the same period. Indeed, Cranmer had freely consulted certain select Lutheran formularies when drafting the Book of Common Prayer.8 It should not be surprising then to find a "Lutheran" flavor in the Prayer Book, especially in the retention of much of the ancient ordering and understanding of the rite of baptism, stripped of Medieval misconceptions of course. (The old saying, "not throwing the baby out with the bath-water" uniquely applies at this point.) As well, we find instrumental language being employed in Cranmer's baptismal rites, not to mention being enshrined in the Articles of Religion no less!9 As we should expect, the language of sanctification and mystery is employed as well. This is precisely where the Prayer Book baptismal office stands out, stands apart, and stands above all the rest in clarity, lucidity, and consistency. So Cranmer's "Flood Prayer" speaks of the God who "...by the baptism of thy well beloved Son, Jesus Christ, didst sanctify the flood Jordan and all other waters to the mystical washing away of sin." Here the common element of water is set apart for the mystical washing, which in turn sets apart the recipient to be incorporated or engrafted into the holy congregation of the Church. In this language of incorporation we find the key that unlocks the rationale of Cranmer's baptismal office. In common with all Reformation baptismal formularies, the case for infant baptism is made on the premise of our inherited Adamic nature. Infants need salvation not because of any personal sins but because of their share in the sin of their original parents. Adults, of course, need remission of both. Yet the Prayer Book assumes that salvation is meaningless outside the community of faith, which is why baptism is necessary for the infant as well as the adult. Baptism incorporates the recipient into the Body of Christ, the community of faith, and thus clothes him with the righteousness of Christ. In the oft-repeated words of the 4th Century bishop, St. Cyprian of Carthage, "One cannot have God as his Father, without having the Church as his Mother." 10 The very means of our "connected-ness" to the visible Church are the sacraments - of which baptism is our birth. Cranmer terms this new birth "regeneration." Thus, for Cranmer, Baptism is a true birth, or engrafting, into the life-nurturing bosom of the Church. The Prayer Book language is careful, however, to guard against Scholastic notions of grace. Grace is not some instantaneous infusion of righteousness into the soul, but rather the gracious testimony of God's disposition towards the newly born child of the Church. So Cranmer's opening prayer implores: Receive them, O Lord, as thou hast promised by thy well-beloved Son, saying, ask and you shall have, seek and ye shall find, knock and the door shall be opened unto you. So give now unto us that ask: let us that seek find: open the gate unto us that knock, that these infants may enjoy the everlasting benediction of thy heavenly washing... The power of sin is considered broken as well. Yet not by the eradication of sin by an infusion of grace, but rather by the remission of sin and the imputation of Christ's righteousness to all who are baptized (cf. Gal 3:27). How can this be? Faith receives that which is offered in the sacrament. But is this not the same dilemma that haunted Luther? How do infants, lacking the capacity for faith, benefit from that which can only be received by faith? This is where the Prayer Book's theology of incorporation is at its best. All Reformation traditions agree that the faith of the community (and specifically the parents and sponsors) is a sufficient basis for the practice of infant baptism. The Prayer Book takes this one step further by insisting that the faith of the community receives for the infant that which is offered in baptism as well. After all, do we not bring our infants to the font on the basis of God's promise to believers and their children - "that God would be our God and the God of our seed after us?" This is where New England Half-way Covenant Theology went awry in their insistence upon a subsequent conversion experience as a requirement for salvation. This was true even for those baptized as infants and reared in the community of faith, as if to say that baptism merely points to the necessity of a later dramatic conversion. Consequently, until one experienced conversion one remained a "son of Adam" and lost in sin, at best only a "half-way" member of the covenant where perchance one might be convicted of sin and repent. Hence, to the New England Puritan mind, salvation was contingent upon that "great discontinuity" of conversion, an experience that transferred a person from the state of sin and death to that of the resurrection of life. This is not the theology of the Prayer Book at all. The great discontinuity occurs not when one of the baptized subsequently converts to Christ; but rather in those cases where (God forbid) one of the baptized rejects Christ and the community which gave birth to him through the waters of baptism. In other words, what we should desire to see in our covenant children is CONTINUITY, not DISCONTINUITY. Does this mean that baptism is necessary to salvation? Insofar as one's relationship to the Church is necessary to salvation, the answer is yes. Sacramentally speaking, we receive our salvation by virtue of our connection to the Church and we sustain that connection by faith. Does this mean that a person can then lose his/her salvation? Sacramentally speaking, yes. We know people who fall away from the faith for a time. We know people who subsequently return. Sad to say, we even know those who die in an unrepentant state. This is the way of things. What can we say about this? As long as one maintains his/her connection to the Body we consider that person "saved." When that connection is severed (through apostasy, discipline, unbelief) then he/she is "lost." But such a person may always be "regained."11 "But wait a minute!" One might protest. "Does this not deny God's sovereign choice in election?" Final election or salvation is not in view here; or more accurately, election from God's vantage-point is not in view here. Election is a mystery, but nevertheless a mystery in which the ultimate object is Christ, the foundation of our individual election. Whatever else may be said about election, it is not the prerogative of self-appointed "fruit-inspectors" to determine who and/or who does not qualify as an "elect" individual.12 We can know and be confident of our standing in grace in the here and now, evidenced by our standing in the Church, the Body of Christ. Incidentally, the Anglican tradition is in good company here, for this is the view of St. Augustine (and who would ever accuse this good saint of being an Arminian?). To be blunt, Anglicans have for too long let Puritans do their theology for them. The "secret and eternal counsel of God" is not the place from which Christians ought to begin to construct a doctrine of the Church, let alone a relevant doctrine of salvation. We would just as soon exercise church-discipline on the basis of who we believe are elect and non-elect (which is an absurdity.) Neither should our confidence and assurance of election be grounded in a mere subjective assessment of "how we are doing" in the eyes of God. (God has told us already how we are doing by sending his Son to die on the cross.) Assurance of salvation is grounded in something else - something tangible and objective: our relation to Christ, made tangible in our relation to his Church, effected and nourished by the divinely instituted means of grace: the sacraments.
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