Now I’m guessing that all of my Reformed brethren who think someone who newly professes faith in Christ needs a couple of months of new member classes before earning the right to be baptized might have a problem with baptizing converts who six weeks earlier had been part of a mob bent on murder. Yet, we read that 3,000 were added to the church that day.  And by “added to the church” we must assume that meant baptized, since no self-respecting Reformed pastor would let anyone be added to his local church without being baptized, right?

Why do many local Baptist churches baptize more adults per year than some entire Reformed denominations?

That question prompted appointment of a study committee in the local classis of my own denomination. As a member of that committee, I reached out to other conservative Reformed and Presbyterian denominations and individual pastors. In some cases, the ministers I spoke with had been pastors for years and had never baptized an adult.  Others, who may have baptized scores of infants, could usually count on one hand the number of adults they had baptized.  One denomination could not tell me how many adults were baptized since the number was not even listed in their annual congregational census.

It would be hard to imagine a less healthy picture, and yet there were numerous excuses offered.

“We were an ethnic congregation, and our churches were mainly in rural communities where people already belonged to a church.”  The problem, of course, is that the same disease seems to afflict their mission church plants in urban areas where the congregations have no ethnic distinctiveness, and unchurched, unevangelized populations abound.

Even more troubling is the response that “people come to the Reformed church after they’re already been introduced to the faith somewhere else, and so they’ve already been baptized.” It was clear from these and other answers offered that many Reformed ministers had resigned themselves to the role of shepherding the flock, baptizing the lambs, and having their churches grow internally, or waiting for Reformed believers from elsewhere to move to their town.

Our little committee plowed through the instances of baptism in the New Testament and while reaching a handful of conclusions about the abiding propriety of our denominational constitution and rules, offered no recommendations.  I found the whole process so profoundly unsatisfying that I declined to sign the report.  Our practice – in practice – looked nothing at all like the New Testament church, and we were not alone.  It is as often the rule as the exception in the conservative Reformed and Presbyterian churches that dot our land.

In the Book of Acts, we see those who confess Christ immediately baptized.  There was no 8-week New Member Class.  There was no examination in church polity, or a required familiarity with a series of creeds and confessions.  Our little committee explored the notion that all those New Testament converts were probably already schooled in Judaism and the Law, or had been evangelized on previous occasions, but that’s problematic on so many levels.

Take those who were admonished to “repent and be baptized” at Pentecost.  Holy group of guys, right?  Devout from every nation, right?  Right.  Only the devout made the trip up to Jerusalem for the three mandatory feasts, and the most devout simply stayed after Passover until Pentecost six weeks later.  In fact, Peter declares that not only were they the devout from every nation, but that they were the very people who had demanded Jesus be crucified and Barabbas released.

Now I’m guessing that all of my Reformed brethren who think someone who newly professes faith in Christ needs a couple of months of new member classes before earning the right to be baptized might have a problem with baptizing converts who six weeks earlier had been part of a mob bent on murder. Yet, we read that 3,000 were added to the church that day.  And by “added to the church” we must assume that meant baptized, since no self-respecting Reformed pastor would let anyone be added to his local church without being baptized, right?

The baptism of the Ethiopian eunuch also gives pause.  Yes, he was reading an Old Testament book and asking questions, and yes, there was water there, but there was no presbytery to examine him, and whatever new member class he attended took place on the spot in a chariot.  And let’s not even get into Philip’s ordination status, since the last time we ran into him he was serving tables in Jerusalem.

Hop over to Acts 10 and we see Peter baptizing Cornelius, a Gentile who had been friendly with the local Jewish community and known for his charity.  Jesus had told the disciples to stay out of Samaria during his ministry, but then after the Resurrection, that changes, and they are to take the gospel everywhere, which as they would find out, included to the Gentiles. An angel tells Cornelius to send for Peter in Joppa and listen to what he has to say.  Peter arrives and shares the gospel. Cornelius and company believe and begin speaking in tongues.  No one was surprised that new believers might speak in tongues at that time, but they were surprised that it would happen to Gentiles, and so they were baptized on the spot.

We come to Philippi and it only gets worse.  Paul and company are down by the river and run into Lydia and her family.  She hears the gospel, is baptized and then invites Paul and his companions back to her home.  No series of membership classes.  Not even a participation trophy.  Profess faith.  Baptized.  Well, of course Paul gets himself thrown into prison in Philippi and when he and Silas start singing hymns during the night, an earthquake pops open the prison door.  The Greek jailor comes running down and sees the fix he’s in, but before he can do himself harm, he hears the gospel and is converted.  We are told that he and his household are baptized within the hour.

So how is it that every time we see a baptism in the New Testament, it seems to follow immediately on the heels of someone’s conversion?  We ought not to think for a moment that those who were baptized weren’t discipled, they were, but most of that discipling came after, not before their baptism.  It seems particularly clueless for Reformed people to withhold the waters of baptism from a new convert because we believe the sacraments are means of grace.  No, there is no grace in water, bread and wine, but believers are strengthened in their faith.  Ah, and here’s the rub.

In most of our denominations, we have tied admission to the sacraments to formal church membership which defines who votes and who does not.  Since we have written our constitutions that way, we are reluctant to let those whose knowledge of theology and the Scriptures is deficient exercise the vote.  It would be an easy thing to fix, but we are very wary of change, even when it can bring us into closer conformity to New Testament practice.

The Scriptures tell us 3,000 were added to the church at Pentecost, but nowhere does it say the voting rolls went up by 3,000.  And nowhere does it say we need to tie voting in a congregational meeting to church membership.  We could require completion of a discipleship class prior to extending voting privileges, while inviting new converts to immediately be baptized and to approach the Lord’s Table.  After all, they are means of grace and we withhold them from those Christ died for at our peril, and theirs.

I do not expect to see our practice change anytime soon, but I do expect to see it change.  We move slowly and carefully in the Reformed churches, and that has much to commend it.  But we do need to start a serious conversation about whether we could be more biblical in our practice, to the benefit of new believers and to the building of the believing church.

Wayne Johnson is the Editor of Leben Magazine and served as an elder at Covenant Reformed Church (RCUS) of Sacramento, Calif., for 38 years.