Almost two years ago, I wrote about trust. In my post "Slower, Slower",
I pointed out how, in committing to a run training schedule written by someone
else, you are placing your trust in their expertise and admitting the
limitation of your own. I went on to
discuss how this is similarly true to the religious walk. Wisdom comes from those wiser than ourselves,
plain and simple. In my running life,
this has often meant that I have needed to slow down – to pace myself so that I
can endure longer or develop more fully.
Each year, I try to take a couple days to run at the beach
to ask God for my marching orders for the year to come. And so, when I was at Myrtle Beach last
weekend, I set out on a run to ask for divine direction. When I used to run infrequently, it was easy
for me to be God-focused while I was running.
As I have developed as a runner, I have found it more difficult to pray
or really have any “focus” at all. In
running, I tend to become devoid of selfhood.
(It is easy to see how the Japanese have developed a tradition of
“moving meditation” that includes such things as raking rocks, archery, flower
arranging, etc.) Nonetheless, I did my
best to entreat God for direction.
My prevailing thought during long runs tends to be “get
zloty!” What I have found is that, when
I need to pull back my heart rate just a bit on a long run, there is a “slot”
that I can find in which I can put slightly less effort into my motions,
thereby becoming marginally more efficient in my running. When my heart rate monitor tells me to
decrease my effort, my practice of running has allowed me to quickly find my
“slot” where I can maintain my speed but lower my heart rate. (“Zloty” is a tip of my cap to my dear friend
Chris Coffman, who once brought me an already scratched lottery ticket back from
a trip Poland. Their currency was then
the złoty. I liked the word, and it has
stuck with me. Chris’s father passed
away last night, and my heart aches for his loss.)
My “slot,” it occurred to me, was discovered as a function
of trust for coach Roy Benson, who wrote the book that has been my primary
guide in developing as a runner. I have
renewed my trust in this guy hundreds of times over the last couple years, and
my calendar is often literally built around his advice. And this is a guy I’ve never met. As someone who is acutely aware of how my
running life and my religious life inform each other, it begs the question:
must not I put the same kind of trust in my religious leaders?
The one area of friction, for lack of a better word, between
myself and the leaders of my church has been around the issue of baptism by
immersion. I was raised in a protestant
church and I was baptized by sprinkling as an infant. I am now a member of an evangelical church
which baptizes only consenting believers, and baptizes by immersion. Since my wife first introduced me to the
Church of Christ, I have spent a good deal of spiritual effort in determining
my relationship to baptism. I have
scoured scripture, engaged in numerous discussions, and taken a winnowing fork
to my soul to find answers.
My working answer has been: I am right with God. There is no necessary condition that remains
unmet that keeps me from the blessed assurance afforded me by scripture. Moreover, scripture is clear in the
commandment to “honor thy father and thy mother.” To undergo “re-baptism” by immersion might
possibly be construed as a dishonor to my parents. Therefore, other things being equal, I will
not be immersed – at least, not while my parents walk with the living. Yes, it may keep me from being totally
accepted by my church, and thus keep me from being fully involved with the
church – but we must all work out our own salvation with fear and trembling,
and I am convinced of my salvation.
That answer has worked for a while. But, ultimately, it is a child’s answer. Furthermore, it hinges on a number of flawed
premises. It became clear to me on my
run last week that I needed to change my answer.
Before my run, I read the book of Galatians. It was Galatians 5 that would come home to
roost:
5 For freedom Christ has set us free; stand firm therefore, and do not
submit again to a yoke of slavery.
2 Look: I, Paul, say to you that if you accept circumcision, Christ
will be of no advantage to you. 3 I testify again to every man who accepts circumcision that he is obligated to keep the whole law. 4 You are severed from Christ, you who would be justified by
the law; you have fallen away
from grace. 5 For through the Spirit, by faith, we ourselves eagerly wait for the hope of righteousness. 6 For in Christ
Jesus neither circumcision nor
uncircumcision counts for anything, but only
faith working through love.
7You
were running well. Who hindered you from obeying the truth? 8 This persuasion
is not from him who calls you. 9 A little leaven
leavens the whole lump.
It was this passage that would later occur to me to
undermine my old answer. I cannot appeal
to the Law to find my defense in an answer to the question of baptism. To bind myself to “honor thy father and thy
mother” is to submit myself to a yoke of slavery.
For whatever reason, the song “Just as I Am, Without One Plea”
continued to echo through my mind. I
don’t know that I’ve even heard this song in the last ten years, but the Spirit
seemed to be calling me to these lyrics.
Am I looking to invoke a plea to the Lord? It seems that, indeed, my old “working
answer” was precisely that: the plea of a logical argument. It’s not bad logic, I might argue – but it is
an attempt to rationalize my relationship with the Lord. It becomes all the more so when I think about
how much time and attention the question of baptism has required of me and
others over the past several years.
Again, let’s say my logic is sound, and that I really have no need to be
immersed in baptism at this point. But
what of the effect is has on my relationship with my church? Is it acceptable to voluntarily affix an
asterisk to my role in the church, or to limit the manner in which I may
serve? Perhaps as a child, it is
acceptable. As a fully engaged adult
member of a church community, though: I think not.
It’s as clear as day in scripture itself, too. Not the mode of baptism; there are sound
readings of scriptures in support of both doctrines. Rather, it is clear that parental devotion is
not supposed to inhibit our spiritual growth.
Quite the contrary, in fact. What
does Jesus say about clinging to parents rather than following him? “Anyone who loves his father or mother more
than me is not worthy of me” in Matthew 10. In Mark 10: “No one who has left
home or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields for me
and the gospel, will fail to receive a hundred times as much in this present
age.” In Luke 14: “If anyone comes to me
and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters –
yes, even their own life – such a person cannot be my disciple.” That last passage is a particularly controversial
one; but I think no possible interpretation of Jesus’ meaning can support my
old argument that “honor thy father and thy mother” should in any way stand
between me and being fully involved with my church.
Further, let me look at the issue of honor. I was raised in a church-going family by
parents that were consistently involved with the church. Most of their best friends have come into
their lives through churches. To this
day, many of the visitors that they entertain in South Carolina are dear
friends from a church they attended thirty years ago. Do I do them greater honor by adhering the
letter of their teaching or by following the model they set out for me? Should one issue of doctrine keep me from
being a fully realized Christian man?
That’s not honor; it’s ancestor worship.
It’s choosing death over life, the past over the future. I love my parents; they taught me what it is
to love and honor and respect. But was
the model of love I learned from them shown by them venerating their parents,
or instead by how they love each other, their church friends, and their God? Indeed, I think to be immersed at this point,
rather than being a rejection of my parents’ teachings, is rather an affirmation
that I am following their example.
It is indeed well to work out one’s own salvation with fear
and trembling. However, that’s not the
whole Christian calling. Our cause is
not so self-centered as that. We are
called to be outwardly-directed. We are
called to put others before ourselves.
We are called to humble ourselves before God and man. I can think of scarcely any better way for me
to humble myself than to be immersed before my congregation – to be buried with
Christ anew.
And so, it is my intention to take the plunge. I hope to be immersed at the Clemson Church
of Christ on Sunday, September 15th.
May my walk with God continue to become deeper and may my relationships
on this earth be made richer as I submit myself anew to Father, Son, and
Spirit.