Most Christians believe what they want to believe, then find Bible verses to support it. Baptism is no exception.

In recent years, I’ve seen a pipeline of Baptist pastors sliding toward paedobaptism. I’ve written about this trend before. Matthew Barrett’s high-profile move to Anglicanism is but one example, but there are others. From my observation, most of the time, they end up Presbyterian. Less often, Anglican. Occasionally, they become Eastern Orthodox or Catholic.

For my purposes here, my focus is mainly on Reformed Baptists becoming Presbyterian. The doctrinal kinship created by covenant theology among Reformed Baptists and Presbyterians often makes this a more appealing move.

This is not a massive trend, but it is significant enough to warrant consideration and observation of a few patterns. Collectively, these defections are sufficient to create the illusion that if you study infant baptism long enough, you’ll end up Presbyterian.

I’m familiar with the arguments from both sides. I’m a Baptist because I’m convinced that Baptist arguments are superior. Credobaptism fulfills the NT pattern: one professes faith in Christ, and only then are they baptized.

The practice of infant baptism is not recorded in the NT, nor are we taught to practice it. It simply does not exist in the pages of the NT at all, so it must be conjectured.

This being the case, it is strange that the majority of the world’s Christians belong to traditions that practice infant baptism (roughly 60-65% of global Christians). Without question, very few of these people could make a biblical argument for infant baptism; they’re just following their tradition.

This leads me to wonder why biblically minded, reformed Baptist leaders end up becoming paedobaptist, which brings me back to my initial observation: most Christians believe what they want to believe, then find Bible verses to back it up. I think this is the case with paedobaptism, both those who leave Reformed Baptist traditions to embrace it, and why leaders in conservative Presbyterian traditions seem to have better retention.

In short, I think there are hidden, personal, and emotional reasons for Baptist to Presbyterian defections, which mirror the reason why there are fewer Presbyterian to Baptist defections.

A lot of it has to do with our kids.

In the end, we’re still human. We are not purely rational creatures. We are emotional beings, influenced by hidden incentives and biases that create a complex web of contradictions within us.

Below, I outline four factors that appear to enhance the appeal of paedobaptism to Reformed Baptists, followed by a brief response to each.

Admittedly, the nature of such a discussion entails some speculation about what motivates people and their theological conclusions. Nevertheless, a fair-minded reader would admit these are reasonable and plausible observations.

1. The Paedobaptist Position Offers Relief from Parental Anxiety

All Christian parents want their children to be saved. They can’t stomach the thought of their precious infant suffering in hell for eternity. They will do anything to ensure the salvation of their child.

The practice of paedobaptism is not simply an abstract, dusty doctrine sitting on the shelf, but an immanently relevant doctrine connected to the deepest loves and fears of every parent. The subject is emotional because good Christians are emotional about their children. How can they not be?

Thus, every theological argument in favor of infant baptism enjoys the rhetorical advantage of appealing to a parent’s deepest desire for the salvation of their children, especially mothers. Paedobaptism promises comfort: your infant is visibly marked as “in the covenant.” That’s powerful.

The danger is that it can easily blur into sacramentalism, which ascribes a mystical power to baptism that confers some actual grace to the infant apart from the rational faculties of the infant’s mind. Although Presbyterians deny baptismal regeneration, in practice the ritual often functions like a spiritual guarantee. Parents start assuming their child received a blessing just by being baptized.

If some actual grace is truly conferred upon baptism, what exactly does this mean for the infant? Does paedobaptism entail a real spiritual advantage to the child? Can this be demonstrated biblically? Does infant baptism increase the likelihood that a child will be elect? Does paedobaptism “grease the skids” of a child’s faith? Does it increase the efficacy of the ordinary means of grace available to all believing parents? What exactly are the covenant blessings availed to the child that he otherwise would not have received?

Conversely, are children of Baptist parents deprived of such blessings? Are the children of Baptist parents excluded from the assembly of the church? Are they refused a Christian education, catechesis, or other means of instruction? Must a parent baptize an infant in order to obey these clear commands of scripture?

The answer to these questions will reveal the extent to which paedobaptist parents have succumbed to sacramentalism. By this, I mean paedobaptists often end up favoring a sacramental view of infant baptism that assumes the administration of baptism itself imparts some actual spiritual benefits upon the child, even though that child is not yet able to utilize his/her reasoning faculties to comprehend them. More on this in a moment.

2. The Paedobaptist Position Has Historical Appeal

Paedobaptism is increasingly attractive in a fatherless and rootless generation that craves theological depth, the value of the family, and connection with the ancient church. Advocates cite the antiquity of the practice to legitimize it, as though it were the universal practice from the time of the Apostles until very recently.

But facts are stubborn.

As stated previously, the NT makes no mention of infant baptism. The earliest records of infant baptism arose in the 2nd and 3rd centuries (though exact dates and details are disputed due to sparse documentation). Early Church Fathers Irenaeus, Origen, and Cyprian of Carthage appear to endorse the practice.

Tertullian, however, explicitly argued against it. He was no stranger to arguing from “good and necessary consequence,” since he was the first to coin the term “trinity,” perhaps the most good and most necessary inference in all of scripture. In his work On Baptism (200-206), Tertullian said, “Let them come [to baptism] while they are growing up, let them come while they are learning, while they are being taught what they are coming to; let them become Christians when they are able to know Christ.”

The Saint Vitalis Baptismal Font, constructed between the 5th and early 6th centuries AD as part of a Byzantine church in Sbeïtla (modern-day Sufetula, Tunisia), is designed to accommodate the baptism of adults by immersion.

By the Middle Ages, baptism was more closely linked to citizenship, as the church and state were not as cleanly separated in those days as they are today. One’s baptism as an infant was also regarded as a mark of citizenship and loyalty to the state.

Thus, at this time, if you were to adopt a credobaptist position, you would have to renounce your infant baptism, which entailed broader consequences than merely changing your mind about a doctrine. That act would be regarded as also renouncing your citizenship, which carried a very heavy cost, as the Anabaptists learned the hard way. This act was considered an act of treason, especially in Catholic and Lutheran territories, where baptism served all the more powerfully as a civic as well as religious rite. Anabaptists were persecuted not merely as heretics, but as traitors. (The Anabaptists should not be confused with modern Baptists, whose theological tradition is clearly distinct from the Anabaptists.)

For these reasons, the practice of paedobaptism was so thoroughly embedded in the collective psyche at the time of the Reformation that it had largely become unquestioned dogma, and the cost of rejecting it would have been personally catastrophic.

This created a personal, ecclesiastical, and political environment during the Reformation that made it all the more difficult to reject infant baptism. And yet, the doctrines of grace recovered during the Reformation rejected Catholic teaching, which also practiced infant baptism, thus requiring new arguments to justify the practice. This explains why the Catholic, Lutheran, and Presbyterian arguments for paedobaptism differ so greatly.

Catholics hold to a baptismal regeneration view, whereby baptism cleanses the child from original sin, summarized by the Latin phrase ex opere operato, “by the act itself.”

Lutherans hold that baptism conveys grace to the infant through the faith of the parents, or the faith of the believing community into which the child is born and baptized. In both Catholic and Lutheran views, the act of baptism accomplishes something real for the child, whether conferring faith upon the child or regenerating the child.

The covenantal, Presbyterian view argues for infant baptism on different grounds. The doctrine of sola fide is a centerpiece of the protestant reformation, a fact that was complicated by a reflexive precommitment to infant baptism. This led to the development of a truly novel, Presbyterian view of infant baptism, which argued that baptism was not a sign of being in Christ but of inclusion in the covenant community prior to any profession of faith. This argument enabled the practice of infant baptism to continue, now under new justification, and an innovative justification which explicitly omits the requirement of faith prior to its administration.

I suspect this is why sacramentalism can creep in so easily, which argues that the sacrament of baptism does accomplish something in the child. In the NT, regeneration and baptism are linked yet distinct. The credobaptist view is that water baptism is an outer sign of an inner grace in the heart of a believer by faith. Put another way, water baptism is an outer sign of the baptism of the Spirit in the heart.

Although Presbyterians reject this view of baptism, some nevertheless sneak in mystical or sacramental benefits of baptism to the infant. It’s not exactly regeneration, but it’s not exactly not regeneration either. This view stretches the doctrine of sola fide to its breaking point.

Even though most Presbyterians deny sacramentalism in theory (cf Heidelberg Catechism question 74, WCF 28.6), claiming baptism is a sign of covenant inclusion, they may subconsciously affirm it in practice, as the parents of these baptized infants are convinced that something good happened for their child at his baptism. The technical distinction is negated by practical experience.

3. The Paedobaptist Position Has Intellectual Appeal

Since the paedobaptist position is not overtly taught in scripture (“Thou Shalt Baptize Thine Infants”), appeals are made to what the Westminsterians called “good and necessary consequence” (WCF 1:6), referring to truths derived from Scripture through logic and sound reasoning. I do not deny the necessity of arguing from good and necessary consequence, as much valuable truth is not overtly spelled out in scripture.

Thus, the paedobaptist position must be argued from abstract hermeneutics and presuppositions, the very opaqueness of which lends the position a more intellectual and erudite appearance. In other words, paedobaptists are smart people who know a lot of the Bible, are theologically sophisticated, and can keep up with abstract arguments. This gives adherents of the paedobaptist position the appearance of greater intellectual rigor than those who appeal to more straightforward readings of scripture.

Most paedobaptist pastors I know are schooled, extraordinary men. Amongst the credobaptist pastors I know, there are more calloused hands and fewer PhDs. Our credo position can be argued from the plain pattern of the NT: adults professed faith in Christ and were subsequently baptized. The logic of the Great Commission is similarly straightforward: make disciples, baptize them, and teach them to obey (Matt 28:18-20).

Thus, the straightforward simplicity of the credobaptist position makes it seem less sophisticated, while the complexity of the paedobaptist position makes it seem more sophisticated.

Furthermore, many modern Baptists trace their heritage to the American frontier, where Baptist doctrine rapidly spread across the country through blue-collar men in small rural churches who worked outdoor jobs and had no formal seminary training. My grandfather and great-grandfather were like this. Times are changing, and today’s Baptists are no less educated than our Presbyterian peers, but certainly a degree of embarrassment about our less educated heritage tempts country Baptist pastors to trade in their Carhartt coats for elbow-patched blazers in the faculty lounge.

Perhaps these Baptist pastors have forgotten our own rich heritage, such as the English Baptists and Particular Baptists of the 17th century, like Gill, Coxe, Keech, and the 1689 London Baptist Confession of Faith. These men were no less theologically rigorous than their Presbyterian counterparts.

Although “good and necessary consequence” arguments must be employed in any serious study of scripture, they must be tethered to the words of scripture itself to provide sufficient warrant for their conclusions. The more one is tethered to the NT’s explicit teaching about baptism, the less convincing paedobaptist arguments will be, regardless of how beautifully argued they are within neatly constructed doctrinal systems.

4. The Paedobaptist Position Benefits from Confirmation Bias

Finally, I think the paedobaptist position probably enjoys more “confirmation bias” benefits than the credobaptist position. Why do I say this?

The paedobaptist position assumes that some real covenantal blessings are conferred upon their children upon their baptism, even if those blessings lack specificity. This creates a powerful incentive to maintain this belief, because changing this belief would feel like removing covenant blessings from our children, which loving parents are loath to do, especially mothers, who take special comfort in the sacrament.

Conclusion

All the above reasons powerfully combine to create an incentive to cling to the practice, even developing complex theological systems to maintain it, because abandoning it feels like endangering one’s children. Thus, paedobaptist parents have every incentive to confirm their bias in favor of it, lest they risk being wrong and taking a covenant blessing away. Better safe than sorry, they might wager. Godly parents are fearful for their children, and we’re naturally attracted to anything that feels like we’re giving our kids every spiritual advantage.

Therefore, I believe the above factors pull smart, Bible-minded Reformed Baptists into the orbit of infant baptism. This pull is not because of the strength of their biblical arguments, which can be challenging to see, argue, and understand, but on the strength of one’s love for his children, one’s desire to feel settled and rooted in something more ancient than 1980, and one’s craving to belong to those who seem intelligent and sophisticated. All these coalesce into a potent cocktail of confirmation bias.

This is a lightly edited version of an article originally published at Michael Clary’s Substack, which you can find and subscribe to here: https://www.dmichaelclary.com/.