adult baptism and the disabled
Today Jacob and I finished our final membership class at Portland Mennonite Church. It took us a long time to start the process. Since we never know how long we are going to be in the Northwest, becoming a member and the next month skipping town hasn’t made much sense.
J’s perspective on the matter finally swayed me - we just need to make it official. We’ve been going to this church for two and a half years. We serve on committees, are part of a small group, heck I was even asked if I would consider being nominated as an elder. Membership for us means formalizing our relationship with this particular church community in a way that we can contribute even more to the life of the body.
Part of our preparation has been reading the Mennonite Confession of Faith. The baptism article is the only one that I’ve found particularly challenging. Having grown up in the Episcopal Church, there’s a lot to “get over” in coming to the Anabaptists. While not always agreeing, I’ve been able to adapt to 7-times-a-year Communion, the lack of emphasis on Old Testament scripture and the fear of ritual I sense in many parishioners. Baptism is a little different for me simply because the theology of pado-baptism makes so much theological sense, especially for theology of disability.
I certainly understand why the early Anabaptists abandoned pado-baptism. But today those reasons don’t seem as relevant. At greatest stake for me is what adult baptism says about our ability to acknowledge the weight of the cross. Infant baptism, for those in reformed traditions is baptism into the Trinity, death with Christ and the beginning of life in the church. When these churches baptize infants it is the child’s parents and the community of believers who take on the weight of responsibility. infant baptism says, “this child is going to die and if you don’t do something about it, they are going to die eternally.”
In the Mennonite church baptism means something very different:
Christian baptism is for those who confess their sins, repent, accept Jesus Christ as Savior and Lord, and commit themselves to follow Christ in obedience as members of his body, both giving and receiving care and counsel in the church. Baptism is for those who are of the age of accountability and who freely request baptism on the basis of their response to Jesus Christ in faith.
The reason we don’t baptize infants is because they cannot “freely request” “on the basis of their response.” Neither can children truly comprehend something else required in the confession: “Those who accept water baptism commit themselves to follow Jesus in giving their lives for others, in loving their enemies, and in renouncing violence, even when it means their own suffering or death.”
You know who else can’t do these things? The disabled.
Some kind people in the membership class tried to help by saying that, because baptism isn’t efficacious and instead just a sign, it didn’t really matter if you were baptized. I don’t think this is true. Baptism is initiation into the life of the church universal, the body of Christ. Whenever I see someone with a mental illness, a profound disability or a child baptized this is an awesome reminder of how foolish we are to think we can make a confession of faith. Just like the first disciples we can’t even imagine what it would mean to carry the cross and, in the moment of truth, like Peter most of us would run.
But that’s why we aren’t left alone. The community of believers is what strengthens us, trains us and prepares us for a lifetime in the church. In many ways, baptism is the first expression of our dependence on one another and the Holy Spirit for our redemption and for bringing that redemption back into the world. It is the moment when we experience our most profound disability. We don’t know what we are getting into and we are dependent on God and others for every breath of faithfulness.
I’m not sure where to put all this. I’d like to think some wise Mennonite theologian has a great answer to this very serious theological issue. Isaac? Any thoughts? Anyone else care to chime in?
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tagged: baptism, disability, membership, mennonites
Hey Melissa,
Found your website through facebook. I was particularly struck by this entry, being a Baptist who uses Mennonite curriculum with my youth group, most notably in our class on baptism and what it means.
In my Baptist Theology class at Duke we discussed this very issue. I was interested in the topic because of my work at a Baptist church in Charlotte with children who suffered from severe cp. I was unsure how the church would handle the baptism issue for those children, and I was troubled by the seeming rigidity of some people’s understandings of believer’s baptism (adult baptism is a misnomer) both within and outside of the baptist church.
First, I do want to say that believer’s baptism isn’t simply an individual endeavor. Though the invitation to become a follower is a personal invitation (see Moses’ invitation to Hobab in Numbers 10:29 and Jesus’ call in John 1:38-39) it is not strictly individual. We are called to join a group of disciples or believers. Baptism (should) always take place in the context of a community of faith. When I was baptized I not only affirmed my own faith, the congregation also responded to that affirmation through their own promise to support me in the journey of faith. In many traditions those who have been baptized then experience the laying on of hands of the community in further affirmation of their involvement. I think these expressions of faith within a community of faith hold the keys to including expressions and affirmations of faith for those with disabilities.
Also, in the baptist tradition we practice baby dedications that are then followed by baptism in much the same way that infant baptism is then followed by catechism and confirmation–though there are admittedly differences…
I would point you to Paul Fiddes, a British baptist theologian who has written on this topic in his article “Believer’s Baptism: An Act of Inclusion or Exclusion?” in his book Tracks and Traces: Baptist Identity in Church and Theology. also :http://www.beestonbaptists.org.uk/pdf_view.php?id=76
You may also want to check out James McClendon.
It is definitely an interesting topic and one that I am still exploring myself. I am glad to hear your thoughts on the subject as I continue to develop my own!
wow. sorry for the inordinately long reply.
This is also a topic of interest for me, too, and one that resounds in the realm of one word that hasn’t been mentioned here: sacrament.
What is the Mennonite/Anabaptist notion of sacrament? I guess I’ve always heard that there are no sacraments in these traditions, and in conversations with my Baptist friends and relatives, there seems to be a great deal of hesitation toward rituals that are set apart as specifically holy by the church, and especially in the transition between ordinary, earthly objects (bread, wine, water, oil, laying of hands) and God’s own presence and action in the people’s worship. The Eucharist becomes, instead of actually body and blood, a memorial of the Incarnation; Baptism becomes, instead of introduction into the Church regardless of personal disposition, an affirmation of experience and understanding of faith in the individual and in the community.
If the Mennonite tradition does not recognize the Sacraments as necessary parts of the life of faith and participation in the worshipping community, then it truly wouldn’t matter if a disabled person, or a child, was not able to consciously make the decision to be baptized as a believer. It really would, as your classmate said, not matter if you were baptized or not. And that’s where my confusion lies - where is the meaning in the ritual, if all people can’t participate?
I am completely sympathetic because, with my United Methodist/Episcopal background, I’m always having a hard time understanding the worshipping life of my friends and family members in Baptist churches. This is just how I understand the Church to be. I’ve been raised to see baptism and communion as necessary parts of the Christian faith. They are not the experience of Salvation itself; the Sacraments are vehicles of Salvation.
I guess I don’t have an answer, only sympathy. I especially like what you wrote when you said, “At greatest stake for me is what adult baptism says about our ability to acknowledge the weight of the cross.” I don’t think you’re ever able to make that acknowledgement in its fullest sense, whether you’re an M.Div. graduate or a ten-year old or a disabled adult.
Kristin - Glad you found me. Thanks for the article. I will definitely check it out.
We also have an emphasis on the communal nature of baptism. But at the end of the day, baptism for Anabaptists is about a personal call and response of ownership over one’s faith journey. And that’s the part I can’t wrap my head around.
Maybe this means we take people at their cognitive level. If you are an adult who maturates in a way that you can make a decision about initiation into adult faith, then you do. If not (the very old, the disabled) your community/family/church acts as your surrogate in this act.
Sara - No, we ain’t got sacraments : )
But I also don’t want to completely put my stake in sacramental theology. Mennonites stick pretty close to the Bible so that particular interpretation of baptism is most relevant. And within that context baptism has a lot of importance for inclusion of the disabled. While Mennonites certainly use the language of “sign” I don’t think this language is supposed to be strictly utilitarian. Our church would probably say those signs are necessary for formation and discipleship of the church, just not salvific.
Ok, this is going to be another long post.
I.
James McClendon, the baptist theologian I spoke about earlier, talks about baptism and communion as “performative signs,” using the term from speech-act theory. Basically, Speech-Act Theory shows us that language doesn’t just describe things or asks questions, it also does things, makes things happen. When a minister says, in certain settings, with proper candidates, witnesses, etc., “I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the minister has not described the couple, but married them, creating a new reality, a married couple, where two singles in love stood before.
In the same way, says McClendon, baptism performs such a speech-act. With candidates this symbol or sign incorporates the candidate into Jesus’ death, burial,and resurrection. It also incorporates the candidate into the Church, the People of God, both scattered around the world and in a local congregation.
So baptists (I use a little “b” baptist to include any stream out of the anabaptist tradition, as McClendon does) use the word sign, but we don’t think of it as an ineffective or empty symbol. (And in this context we don’t make a differentiation between sign and symbol like Tillich…
II.
I don’t think that baptists only view baptism on a cognitive level.
When we think of baptism, we baptists usually think of two New Testament models: Saul/Paul who experienced a radical reversal and Jesus, whose baptism was not a reversal but a fulfillment. Both are, as McClendon writes, “conversion stories, turning stories; in both stories baptism is a commissioning, metaphorically an ‘ordination’ to service, and although these two have different pasts, their stories converge–at the cross.” There is something beyond a cognitive choice present in both of these stories as well.
For baptists, baptism is a sign of salvation. McClendon writes again that because of that, “none who in good faith seeks this sign is to be turned away. ‘Salvation full and free’ implies baptism free–and full. None is to be denied whom Christ accepts, and none of these is to be denied baptism itself…Slowly but surely the church has learned that it must not deny this water (Acts 10:47) to Gentiles, but also not to barbarians, or Jews, or females, or slaves…” The way that baptism is sought might differ. For someone who is developmentally disabled, baptism can be a very important expression of their faith. I have heard of baptism services during which someone who was developmentally disabled simply said, “Me next.” when it came time for baptism and then, in affirming his faith, sang “Jesus Loves Me.” There are no hard and fast rules about what an affirmation of faith will sound or look like.
The question that infant baptism raises for baptists is: where is it in the Bible? Though it may be compared to circumcision, that is only for males, typically infants, in Jewish practice. Baptism is offered for all. Is free for all. But should it simply be given to all without any sort of response of faith beforehand? I believe that baptism is a response to faith as well as an experience imbued with grace beyond measure and something far beyond our ability to cognitively grasp.
III.
As McClendon writes, infant baptism coincided with “the dissolving of the Christian faith into culture, the Constantinian comporomise. Though from time to time over the centuries individuals and groups rebelled (often at their life’s risk), baptism for most became a birth-ceremony or a safe conduct badge for the dying, and lost its status as the commissioning of disciples setting out on their faith journey. The ideal alternatives to the conversion-models related above seem to be principally two: infants baptized soon after birth are brought by subsequent education to a confirmation that will signal conversion and be the fruit of the earlier baptism; or infants, baptized, confirmed, and given communion in one infant rite are already made ‘full participants’ in the church.”
So…my question is: Confirmation is important. It makes the baptism of an infant about a faith that is experienced and present. What do churches that practice infant baptism say about confirmation for those who are developmentally disabled? Because, as I said in my previous post, baptists dedicate their children at birth to be raised and supported in the church and community of faith and that is later made fruitful in the individual’s baptism and affirmation of faith. So too with infant baptism, if I am correct, there is a sense in which that baptism is remembered and affirmed through confirmation–there is still a personal, cognitive–at least on some level–response, right? So how is that handled for the developmentally disabled?
I guess the question at stake is, how do we talk about faith? Does it need to be fully expressed in a cognitive way? Or can faith be something that is expressed by simply saying, “Me next” and walking into the water? I believe the latter, frankly. Because we are never going to be fully able to express our faith without taking into account a great deal of unknown, mysterious, and ineffable grace.
Still thinking about this…great points and loving the conversation….
Mel, it looks like you’ve already got some good answers. I have to admit, baptism is a tough one for me. I feel like I have a decent handle on communion. But baptism…. very confusing.
I can say that I don’t think you are right about this: “Infant baptism says, ‘this child is going to die and if you don’t do something about it, they are going to die eternally.’” At least, that’s not what’s at stake for me. I don’t think sacraments are about magic spells that get people into heaven (nor do I think you believe that either). Heck, Jesus makes everything confusing with in talk in Matthew 25 about the eternal punishment for those with a proper confession, yet ignore the Jesus that comes with the “least of these.” All we can do is learn how to beg: “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, for I am a sinner.” (By the way, you’ve got to check out Kelly Johnson’s book, Fear of Beggars. Hot stuff).
On another note, if John Yoder think Mennonites can think about church sacramentally, then so can you. In Body Politics (and other essays) he talks about “sacramental realism.” The point is that sacraments perform what they signify. Sacraments are operational. For example, our eucharistic union with Christ is the way we gather around the table and eat and talk and participate in the reconciliation made available through God’s grace. Communion doesn’t signifiy some other-worldly union; rather, the messiness of eating together, of giving and receiving food, is the Lord’s Supper–it’s sacramental eating. Church, all of it, is sacrament.
But what about baptism… I get hung up on this one. Mel, I think you are right on the money with talking about how Mennonites should think about the baptism of our disabled friends. There has to be Mennonite pastors, and Mennonite churches, out there who’ve baptized the disabled. I wonder how they think through this in light of our tradition.
I would start thinking through this issue with a conversation about what it means to love, and the union of Christ’s love. (I know, I sound like such a liberal!). If we think that baptism begins our journey of mutual love with Christ’s love, then I want to be in love with disabled people too. Since I’m a Christian, there is no one who I cannot desire to love without giving them a chance, no one that I can rule out as a possible fellow participant in the love of Christ.
Maybe, just maybe, we can be so moved by love that we can’t resist our union with a disabled friend. We have no choice but to baptism them, to incorporate them into the love of Christ that makes our mutual love possible. And I guess we have to trust that we know this person well enough to know that she or he wants to commit themselves to love us in return, as Christ first loved us, whether or not than can articulate it like we can. Disabled people speak, but have we the patience to listen, feel, touch, taste, their language? It probably won’t sound like, “Yes, I confess Jesus Christ as my Lord and savior.” It can look like something else.
?
Kristin- Wow! That’s great information. Thanks for taking the time to summarize.
One of the questions that still comes back for me, can a family member make this decision for someone who is at a place of extremely low cognition? Could someone be baptized and confirmed because their parent is commtting them to a life in the church, to care and nurture of that person by the congregation? Is the faith really our assent or our willingness to be carried gently by those who make up the body of Christ?
Isaac - Thanks for finding me and for the comments : )
I started Kelly’s book but had to put it down when classes started. I’ll get back to it this summer….
One clarification: the “you are going to die” comment wasn’t meant to be supersitutious but rather a sgnal of the seriousness of raising a child to be faithful. Infant Getting your infant wet is only the first step. Parenting in faith is the fulfillment of this promise.
I talked to my associate pastor about this but her answer was, “well, we once baptised a woman with FAS but it was like, sure, why not?” I’m definitely keeping an eye out for others.
And thanks for the reminder on thinking of the church sacramentally. Guess Notre Dame really got to Yoder….
I guess I’m looking for a cogent theology and I’m frustrated that I’m not finding something other than exceptions, blank spaces and nascent thoughts. You know what I mean?
I do appreciate taking the emphasis off of verbal confession mostly because, in order to know the heart of your disabled brothers and sisters we will be required to be present in ways that stretch and challenge. We have to be patient; we have to give our time. It is no small matter, but then again, baptism never should be.
I don’t see any other way of viewing the church Christ founded except sacramentally–divinity leant to “stuff”, holiness imparted as a free gift, unity-with-Creator given to fallen creature.
Just as Christ says “This is my Body” before it is so–and thus making it so, he says, while we are yet sinners, that we are worthy for him to die for, and it is so.
Baptism is a completely free gift of grace, as a sign for yourself and to the nations, that the Lord knows you, and knowing you, calls you. The difference between infant and believer’s baptism in some ways strikes me as the difference between getting caught in a downpour and perhaps seeing the clouds a few minutes beforehand. The prebaptismal confession of faith amounts to “Looks like rain!”–a statement of what’s about to happen to you. The rain falls on the young, old, and disabled alike.
Well, a non-systematic packet of thoughts for your consideration, from a Catholic who tripped in.
I found your post through googling Mennonite -disability.
My main response is to the _ this is whats required for baptism ( being nonviolent,showing nonresistance unto death, loving your enemies) the disabiled can’t do. I beg very much to differ. I think those with disabilities especially those who cannot speak are prime examples of being able to show love to enemies and to refusal to take revenge. I once worked at a group home and was amazed at the self control and love that the clients showed. Staff would regularly and frequently mock them - state openly that thought the clients couldnt think. In many ways they were treated like animals. True -they were given plenty of food, clothes to wear and comfortable living quarters. BUT there was no recognition that they had something to offer, that they had opinions, that they were interested in a variety of things. Yet even to those starff who refused to believe that they could do any of those things they still responded to them with hugs and obeyed the rules that staff put in place.
My favorite quote is “my brain is not in my vocal chords” PLEASE do not mistake the ability of the brain to command the body to do certain things with the ability to think . The BRAIN controls bodily functions. the MIND controls the thoughts. Two entirely different functions.
God said “All have sinned” that includes those with disabilities. God said “Anyone who comes to me will be saved” That includes those with disabilites.
Baptism is simply a recognition from the individual that they have done both and are now choosing to be part of the Body of Christ. The question I see here is
“Are we as a Mennonite Church willing to allow those who cannot speak, or work 24/7 or look nice to contribute to our needs and to expect us to be accountable to them ? From what I have seen and experienced the answer is “no” I hope someday that I will be proved wrong and will rejoice when that day comes.
Shirley - Thanks for sharing. My experience in l’Arche, and I think for many l’Arche assistants is quite different. Jean Vanier writes that violence is intrinsic to life with the disabled, particularly those of our friends who have lived in group homes that foster the kinds of emotional instability that leads to violence. I’ve had chairs thrown at me and a core member tell me she hopes I miscarry. Learning to be live in the violence that pervades even places of healing like l’Arche is part of the grace of being called to live alongside the disabled.
The brain vs mind dichotomy, while helpful for some folks with disabilities (those with MS or ALS in particular) doesn’t apply to most people with developmental disabilities. They aren’t average functioning brains trapped in broken bodies. The function of the brain is a part of the disability.
As for the comment that the disabled can’t choose to lay down their lives non-violently, I do think this is an important distinction. This was especially relevant after a recent suicide bombing in Iraq where two women with down syndrome were strapped to explosives by relatives. Choosing to lay down your life, to say you will die before you will kill, before you will allow another to die does require a level of cognition not available to most people with developmental disabilities. To subject those men and women to a death they cannot understand would be the worst possible manipulation.
Hmm - I have reread your statement several times and am still confused by how you could make what I said be completely different.
First =I never said that people with developmentally disabilites were never violent. Or that situations they grew up created abusive and violent behaviour. I was simply stating that people with developmental disabilites can CHOOSE to respond nonviolently and lovingly to those who show disrespect.
Second - I didnt say that their brains weren’t functioning. I said that their abilitiy to THINK does not always correspond with their ability to speak. Do you stop thinking when you stop talking? What about when you have laryngitis ? A person can still think perfectly well even though the brain functions connecting brain to mouth may have lost a few connections. The folks that I worked with were denied any type of communication systems.Staff literally believed “can’t talk -can’t think” . Too often people look at what a person can do physically and assume that their mind functions the same.
Third. How you can compare a person who CHOOSES when and where they will nonviolently respond to someone elses mistreatment and a suicide bomber - I still cant ‘figure it out. For one the bomber did NOT make that choice themselves it was made for them. I think if you will read the history of institutions you will find many accounts of people who sacrificed their lives to protect fellow “patients”. That many times in abusive situations they intervened and in turn they themselves were attacked by staff who did not appreciate it.
Your last statement I would totally agree with. But thats not what I was posting about. I was simply responding to the attitude of “Oh they have a disability therefore they don’t understand the concepts of loving your enemy and being nonviolent. Many of them can and do. Let’s not write them off just because they might not be able to spout off statement from John Howard Yoder or the one from L’Arche. If you are a part of L’Arche then you know one of the foundational principles of your community is that you treat those with disabilites with the same respect and honor that you would famous theologians. One of the lessons that took awhile for me to learn was that just as I expected the clients to be accountable to me so I had to yeild to be accountable to them. Once I did that our relationships changed dramatically. .