[This is the fourth article interacting with a series by Les Puryear — www.lesliepuryear.blogspot.com — regarding whether Southern Baptists can be Reformed]

Among the arguments that one cannot be Southern Baptist and Reformed is the notion that to be Reformed means, necessarily, that one also hold to “Covenant Theology.” As Puryear defines it, however, the point of disagreement comes primarily into focus on the issue of paedobaptism: the practice of baptizing infants because they are de facto members of the covenant by virtue of having been born to believing parents.

Again, Puryear falsely presumes that everyone claiming to be Reformed Baptist adopts paedobaptism, or, if they deny it, they are either mistaken or deceiving themselves and others. This is demonstrably false, and a tactic of logic unbecoming serious discussion of issues.

Even so, let it be known that this Reformed Baptist — and all the others I know — reject paedobaptism and that aspect of “Covenant theology” decried by Puryear and others.

However, is it prudent to pit “covenant theology” against “Baptist theology,” as Puryear expressly does?

There is no doubt that in the Old Testament God promises a “new covenant.” In the New Testament, Jesus describes himself as securing the “new covenant” by the shedding of his blood and the breaking of his body, both of which we commemorate in the ordinance of the Lord’s Supper. Hebrews tells us that Christ obtained for us a “better covenant” through his sacrificial death and perfect obedience.

This “new covenant” — of grace, as it were — is absolutely crucial to our understanding of grace, the security of the believer, salvation, and sanctification. No Southern Baptist should acquiesce to any theological framework that rejects an understanding of our place in this covenant.

“Covenant theology” is traditionally framed against an understanding of “dispensational theology,” and in that framing, Southern Baptists occupy a sort of de-militarized zone between them (although dispensational theology is quite popular with some prominent Southern Baptists). Puryear quotes Bart Barber’s description of covenant theology in terms of the relationship between the Old and New Testaments,and, it would seem, how this relates to the “pattern” of the New Testament church. It is unclear what this means, but apparently has to do with membership in the body: in the Old Testament, membership was determined by blood; in the New Testament, by conversion and profession (Baptism).

But this treatment makes two fundamental errors. First, covenant has to do with much more than the determination of membership lists, and cannot be limited to an expansion of the ‘church’ from ethnic identity to trans-ethnic spiritual identity: the terms of covenant are also vital. Second, it comes to rest in a position that seems satisfied not merely with a Southern Baptist understanding of ‘new covenant,’ but with an understanding of Southern Baptist thought with ‘no covenant.’

Puryear and others have thrown out the proverbial baby with the bathwater. They have identified an objectionable aspect of “covenant theology” (which is essentially Presbyterian), pinned that proverbial tail on the “Reformed Baptist” donkey, and cast them all out of the SBC barn.

I’ve become more interested in Les Puryear’s blog (www.lesliepuryear.blogspot.com) since the Southern Baptist Convention, and find that his discussion about all things distinctive about the SBC are helpful in many ways.

Previously I posted a general response to some of his thoughts, but want to address some of his concerns about Reformed Baptist thought and practice specifically.

Before beginning his series on the differences between Reformed Baptists and what he calls ‘traditional’ Southern Baptists, he posted an article entitled ‘Why I Don’t Drink Alcoholic Beverages.’

I think that it is perfectly acceptable, from the perspective of both biblical interpretation and practical expedience, for a believer to decide it is better for him to avoid alcohol entirely. The grounds for such a decision might include the reputation of the believer and his ability to witness, the influence of alcoholism, and so forth. In this regard, I agree with much of Puryear’s assessment and have no difficulty with many of the reasons for his alcohol avoidance.

However, I part company with tee-totalers when they conclude 1) that all believers should join them, or 2) that avoiding alcohol is ‘who we are’ as Southern Baptists.

Part of the problem is the view that all alcohol consumption implicates the biblical principle of not being a ‘stumbling block.’ Puryear references this Pauline principle, and adds “While it may be perfectly fine biblically for me to have a glass of wine with my meal in a good restaurant, it is not perfectly fine biblically for my example to lead someone else to sin”.

The problem comes when we consider the use of alcohol — which is not categorically a sin in Scripture — a ‘stumbling block,’ and enlarge the avoidance category to include all things that ‘lead someone else to sin.’

In Paul, a ‘stumbling block’ is described in terms of those who have emerged from a culture of worshiping idols and sacrificing food to them, and are now faced with buying the same food in the marketplace as a matter of practical necessity. It is bad for the mature brother to eat such food when it causes the weaker brother — whose conscience bothers him about it — to deny the voice of conscience and eat, anyway.

So the essence of ‘stumbling block’ is causing a weaker brother to begin a pattern of denying conscience and behaving against its guidance. In the case of alcohol, it is similar to a mature brother who emerged from alcoholism drinking socially when the conscience of a weaker brother — who is fresh on the wagon — still tells him to avoid liquor altogether. It is not, as Puryear suggests, simply ‘leading someone else to sin.’

If it were such a broad principle, then I should avoiding eating, because someone seeing me eat a fried chicken wing might justify his eating a whole bucket. I should avoid driving a car, because someone observing me do a ‘rolling stop’ might justify his reckless driving. I should avoid going to movies, because someone observing me watch Toy Story 3 might justify his watching The Playboy Channel.

This is not, however, what Paul intended.

Believers have good reason to conclude, as Puryear does, that they should avoid alcohol. But categorizing the discussion in terms of ‘stumbling blocks’ removes any discretion and leads to a conclusion that all believers should act the same way.