Shortly after the Chicago Pope, Leo XIV, was elected, a man who has attended the church my friend pastors said, “I think I’m gonna join the Catholic church. I like this new pope. And besides, they have more sacraments than you do.”
“Actually,” my friend responded, “Baptists don’t have any sacraments. We have ordinances.” He tried to explain the distinction, but its importance was lost on the wanderer.
Catholics and some Protestants observe up to seven sacraments. They are seen as the means by which God dispenses grace, so practicing them frequently becomes vital for the person who wants to remain in good stead with the Almighty. And it places both responsibility and pressure on the person to earn God’s grace.
But our ordinances—and there are only two—commemorate and celebrate what God has already done. In baptism, the picture is clear that God saved the believer who is symbolically buried with Christ in death, and raised to walk in newness of life, as Paul and many a baptizing pastor have said. And in the Lord’s Supper, God isn’t secreting his Spirit into the believer by way of the stomach, but it is a picture of the state of the heart. Any participant or onlooker is reminded of the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross. Here’s how we were saved, the ordinances proclaim, not how we become saved.
In the Baptist Faith and Message (2000) article 7, the Baptist practice of believer’s baptism by immersion is clear. Those capable of professing their faith in Jesus as Savior go under the water in the same way Jesus was baptized by John. Baptism is identification with Christ and a public declaration of faith, but there is no sacramental magic in the water.
A few Baptist churches, mostly outside Southern Baptist life, will accept baptism by another mode (such as sprinkling) or from a church with a different theology (such as regeneration actually happening at the moment of baptism). But the BF&M is clear that the baptism of people mature enough to make their own decision to follow Christ, after their salvation experience, is the Baptist way.
For those who find the ordinances an emotional experience, their observance is a holy nudge to stay close. How often is not prescribed in Scripture.
Reformed Worship says that observance of the Lord’s Supper four to six times a year is a common practice among Protestant churches. Especially among those in the free tradition, reserving communion for occasional worship services keeps it from becoming ordinary.
The National Association of Evangelicals says monthly communion is the norm in 70% of evangelical churches. And while the weekly eucharist is most common in Catholic and Anglican churches, the Gospel Coalition says sharing the Lord’s Supper every Sunday is becoming “a badge of honor” in some Baptist and Presbyterian congregations—albeit unusual.
There is one controversial bit in the year 2000 amendments to the article on the Lord’s Supper. As a supervisor of mine would ask as he departed my office door, “Open or closed,” the language of how communion is observed has moved from open to closed.
With believer’s baptism expressly as a prerequisite for participation, the broader invitation to all Christians to come to the table is reduced. Some local churches will go so far as to say only members of that particular congregation may participate. This form of closed communion is not ecumenical; it does not travel to the homebound; it is not shared in smaller groups; it is not used to draw people to Jesus. In this way, commemorating his sacrifice is for a specific group of believers only. While not all Baptists hold this view, those who practice closed communion could be called zealous to preserve its holiness.
Both Articles 7 and 8 prescribe the regular and common observances of a zealous people in response to a jealous God: Identifying with Christ in baptism, remembering his grace extended at Calvary, and reserving one day weekly for his worship. The BF&M says the Christian’s conscience governs how God is to be worshiped on his day, but as the culture frays the edges of sabbath, keeping the day holy is a growing challenge.
And answering the question “Can I mow my grass on Sunday?” becomes fraught with debate over legalism. If only there were a sacrament to cover that.
—Eric Reed
