The Longing for Liturgical Depth Must Never Come at the Cost of Doctrinal Clarity
Matthew Barrett’s recent announcement, “I Am Leaving the SBC and Becoming Anglican,” marks a significant moment not only for him but for those of us who have followed his theological journey with admiration.
I would like to begin by expressing my deep appreciation for Dr. Barrett’s work. His clarity and conviction on the doctrine of God, the Trinity, divine simplicity, and eternal generation have strengthened the broader church and my own ministry. His academic output has helped return weight and reverence to theological discourse and classical theology. For that, I’m genuinely grateful.
But this move away from the Southern Baptist Convention and into the Anglican tradition prompts a sober pause and speculation, and not just because of ecclesiological change. This isn’t just a denominational shift. It’s a theological pivot that involves profound doctrinal consequences, liturgical recalibrations, and in many ways, a departure from the very foundations Barrett has so faithfully taught.
There is a lot in his post that resonates with me. He’s right to grieve the trajectory of much of the SBC, including its pragmatism, obsession with platforms, shallow theology, and the politics that often distract from pastoral ministry. Many of us feel that tension. The culture of performance wears on us. Many of us Baptists also long for a deeper, slower, more reverent, and reformed church life (of course, because of our biblical and Baptist doctrine of church autonomy, we are free to implement such a style of worship in our local churches). Barrett also rightly elevates the importance of historic liturgy, theologically rich worship, and ecclesial rootedness. These are longings I share.
But the solution cannot be found in swapping one set of problems for another, mainly when the “other” includes its own set of theological landmines. Anglicanism, particularly in its more traditional forms, introduces significant doctrines that Baptists would argue depart from Scripture and fundamental commitments of the Reformation. And this is where, for me, the brakes engage.
In embracing Anglicanism, Barrett appears to accept or at least accommodate elements such as baptismal regeneration, an episcopal polity that lacks New Testament warrant, and a sacramentalism that can, in various forms, blur the clarity on justification by faith alone. These aren’t minor points. These are foundational doctrines that trade gospel clarity for confusion.
While he hasn’t explicitly stated that he has adopted every aspect of Anglican theology in its more sacramental or Catholic expressions, his recent silence on core Protestant distinctives — such as justification by faith alone, the nature and function of the sacraments, and the final authority of Scripture — is worth noting. In theological discourse, especially for someone like Barrett who has championed clarity and doctrinal precision, such silence rarely remains indefinite. These are not peripheral issues, and for a theologian committed to retrieval and confessional integrity, clarity on these doctrines often follows proximity to ecclesial shifts.
I say this not to question Barrett’s sincerity or love for Christ. That’s not in doubt. What I do question is the trajectory. How can someone so grounded in biblical and systematic theology, someone who has taught the church to cherish classical theism and creedal orthodoxy, take such a sharp turn without clearly explaining how he reconciles these major theological shifts?
The move toward Anglicanism also raises pastoral concerns. Barrett is a public theologian. His voice matters to many. When he makes such a move, people follow not just in form, but in doctrine, particularly since he was a professor at a Southern Baptist seminary. And if they follow without being warned of the theological divergences, we risk sending younger pastors and students down a path that slowly erodes core convictions. Clarity matters. Precision matters. And in moments like this, silence can unintentionally serve as approval.
There is a way to love tradition, to embrace reverence, and to structure church life more liturgically without stepping outside the bounds of confessional evangelicalism. One doesn’t have to become Anglican to recover creeds, confessions, and theological depth. And one certainly doesn’t have to adopt a sacramental system that leans toward sacerdotalism to embrace beauty in worship.
Barrett’s explanation of his shift begins with the “first pillar” being the SBC’s rejection of the resolution regarding the Nicene Creed. However, the SBC’s decision not to approve the resolution explicitly affirming the Nicene Creed should not be misunderstood as a rejection of the creed itself. Instead, the Baptist Faith and Message 2000 (BF&M) already implicitly affirms the theological truths contained within the Nicene formulation, namely, the full deity of Christ, the Trinity, and the eternal nature of the Son. Our confessional heritage has consistently upheld these foundational doctrines, and although the resolution was not adopted, the core affirmations of the Nicene Creed remain deeply embedded within our doctrinal commitments. I stand in total agreement regarding the Nicene Creed; however, I supported the rejection of the resolution as unnecessary and stand behind the SBC’s verdict.
If Barrett had written, “I’m staying within my Baptist convictions, but I long to see our churches recover gravity, tradition, and rootedness,” I would be standing beside him. However, the decision to formally join the ACNA without addressing the implications of that denomination’s doctrinal inconsistencies or the theological shifts necessary to embrace it as a former Baptist (beyond just his change on infant baptism) leaves too many critical questions unanswered.
Let me say again, with sincerity: I respect Matthew Barrett. I thank God for his contributions to the church. But I believe this is a moment where theological admiration must also give way to theological caution. The beauty of tradition should never eclipse the authority of Scripture. And the longing for liturgical depth must never come at the cost of doctrinal clarity.
For those of us still laboring in the SBC, not out of naive loyalty, but conviction, we don’t need to flee to find the deep things of God. They’re already here, in His Word, in the local church, in faithful, quiet obedience. The church needs fewer public exits and more patient reformers. We need men who will remain not because it’s easy, but because the gospel is worth contending for, even in the trenches of a flawed denomination.
I want to encourage all faithful pastors who labor in God’s Word to continue contending for the faith and the reformation of the SBC. Your voice matters, your vote matters, and if more pastors decided to lean in and press for change rather than leave, then I believe we would slowly start to see some positive changes both theologically and denominationally.
Additionally, we must speak up when influential theologians like Barrett shift course, especially knowing the significant impact they have on young men preparing for pastoral ministry. Such shifts can subtly plant seeds of doubt and set a trajectory that leads aspiring pastors to model their ministry after academics rather than shepherds—following the example of a professor instead of a faithful local church pastor.
Let us be careful not to equate what is ancient with what is necessarily faithful, or to assume that liturgical structure automatically means spiritual substance. We must evaluate even the most respected voices with discernment, examining the direction they’re heading in light of Scripture. While the Church Fathers offer valuable insight and theological richness, their preferences for high church liturgy should never carry more weight than the precise prescriptions given to us in God’s Word.
