A catholic looks at Baptist spirituality: for some thirty years now I have had the privilege of being associated with Baptist institutions (churches, seminaries, hospitals) and have enjoyed friendship and ecumenical relationships with many Baptists.

Weber, Samuel F.

It is out of these experiences that I write. What is recorded here is not an attempt at a historical or systematic approach to the topic of Baptist spirituality, but personal observations and reminiscences that grow out of shared experiences.

I am a Benedictine monk and priest. My main work has been that of a seminary professor. Areas of responsibility have been centered on teaching church history, liturgy, and spirituality in the context of a Roman Catholic seminary training priests for work in parishes. In addition, I have been involved in spiritual direction, retreat work, sacred music, and ecumenical dialogue. My involvement in ecumenism has put me in contact with Presbyterians, Methodists, Lutherans, Disciples of Christ, and Baptists in the south. For me these contacts have been both educational and inspirational.

When the topic of this paper was suggested to me, the first thought that went through my mind was that in all my years of interaction with Baptists I had never before heard the term "Baptist spirituality." The term, I suspect, is new and has only come into use in recent years. No sooner had I heard the term than I began to hear from my Baptist friends comments like these: "We Baptists don't know anything about spirituality. We need to learn from you Catholics what spirituality is. The monastic tradition has so much to teach us, because spirituality has not been part of our heritage."

My first reaction was surprise. Given my experience, I would not have spoken this way. Yes, I would agree that Baptists can be enriched by contact with Benedictine monasticism and the Catholic tradition. But I would also insist that enrichment is a two-way street. Yes, I would agree that their Baptist heritage, as I have come to know and understand it, has not used the specific vocabulary of spiritual theology in the same way that Catholics have. But that does not mean that Baptist life has not been rich in spiritual experience and meaning.

Definition

The term "spirituality" is a popular one today. Nearly every week an article on the topic can be found in newspapers and magazines. Even the six o'clock news has been known to have a weeklong continuing set of segments updating viewers on developments in this area.

It is clear that the term "spirituality" has various meanings for different people. As a Benedictine monk, this is what "spirituality" means to me: living life to its fullness, according to the divine plan for the human family, to the glory of God the Father, through Jesus Christ our Lord, in the power of the Holy Spirit.

With this definition in mind, my three decades of interaction with Baptists have taught me that Baptist life is rich, very rich in spirituality. Given the limits of this paper, I will share only a few aspects of what I have seen and heard, and what has become precious to me.

A Recent Experience

I appreciate roots. Beginnings, heritage, shared memories, telling the story--all these are of interest to the historian in me. On a recent visit to Memphis, Tennessee, I had an opportunity to spend a day at the Pink Palace. This museum traces the story of Memphis as a site on the Mississippi River from the age of the dinosaurs to the present time. The visitor walks from room to room and experiences what Memphis was like in each epoch. The exhibits are colorful and fascinating.

Toward the end of the tour, I walked into the early 1800s. On one side I saw the Mississippi River. Not too far from the river, on a small bluff, was a farmstead: a barn, a large yard, and a home--a log cabin house with a front porch. On the porch was a rocking chair with a shawl draped over it, as though Grandma had just been sitting there. The inside of the cabin was one small room.

To my left, underneath a window with shutters, was a bed: wooden frame, canvas straps supporting a straw-stuffed mattress and pillows, all covered with a homemade quilt. In the middle of the room, only a few feet from the bed, was the "board," the log table where the family sat to share meals. To my right, was a large fireplace, the hearth, with black iron cooking utensils suspended over the fire ready for work. On top of the fireplace there was a mantle on which rested the family Bible, and next to it a hymnbook.

Of course, no one lives in this kind of simple frontier home anymore. Times and dwelling places have changed. Yet, when I reflect on what I would understand as "Baptist spirituality," I would find the key elements to be the same today as they were for the Baptist frontier family that, as I am imagining, lived in this home on the river two centuries ago.

Family Bible

The first time I attended a Sunday service at a Baptist church, I was deeply impressed when I saw the worshipers, young and old, in their Sunday finest, walking across the parking lot toward the church building, Bibles in hand. Black leather covers and gold edges. And, as I was later informed, the words of Jesus in red letters.

And so I understood that these were-people devoted to the Word of God. What they read with their eyes, and heard preached during the service with their ears, they treasured in their hearts.

Baptist spirituality begins with God. First the Creator, then the creature. It is God's revealed Word that provides the plan, the road map of life:

 Holy Bible, Book divine,
 Precious treasure, thou art mine:
 Mine to tell me whence I came;
 Mine to teach me what I am. (1)

Word of God, response of the human heart-this is the pulse of the spiritual life, without which there is no life, only death. The response of the human heart .takes two forms: believing and acting on belief in the lived life of charity, the duty of every believer:

 Words of life and beauty,
 Teach me faith and duty:
 Beautiful words, wonderful words,
 Wonderful words of life. (2)

Benedictines and Baptists have much in common. Monks spend the best hours of day and night pouring over the sacrced Scriptures in the celebration of common prayer (Divine Office) and in personal lectio divina, the prayerful, meditative reading and study of God's Word. Baptists pour over the sacred page in their personal devotions and never seem to tire of Bible study together in groups. For both, devotion to the Sacred Scriptures is a life-long practice. Even more so for Baptists, who, it seems, learn their Bible almost as soon as they begin to learn how to talk! The number of Bible study groups meeting at any one time in a Baptist congregation has always inspired me. The youngest and the oldest and everyone in between are involved. Seemingly Baptists never tire of taking up the Good Book:

 Holy Bible, Book divine,
 Precious treasure, thou art mine. (3)

For Baptists, spirituality means being "people of the Book."

Hymnbook

On the mantle rested the family Bible, and next to it a hymnbook.

Concerning the connection between worship and music, I've heard Baptists saying: "Where there is no music, the Spirit will not come" (a black Baptist pastor), and "In the next life there are two ways of communicating: singing and wailing. The sooner you learn to sing, the closer you are to heaven" (a grandmother encouraging her grandson to sing with enthusiasm, and from the heart).

Some of my first contacts with Baptists stemmed from invitations to conduct workshops on Psalm singing. I soon learned that Baptists start singing pretty much as soon as they start talking. The fullness, forcefulness, beauty, and quality both of the singing and the instrumental music have been quite moving for me. Music education, I learned, is serious business in Baptist congregations: music ministers are well educated and compensated; choir programs are available for all ages; a variety of musical styles is cultivated; some of the finest organs and other instruments are to be found in Baptist churches.

I have experienced many different kinds of Baptist music-making in worship. A primitive Baptist standing in a river chanting the baptismal formula in intonations and modulations that I recognized as reaching back through the centuries to Latin Gregorian chants, Greek cantilation, and synagogue tones. A choir of children in Bible School accompanying the singing of their hymns with the playing of Orff instruments. A large urban congregation broadcasting their service that, on that particular Sunday, featured selections from Gounod's "Saint Cecilia Mass." A preacher, an accomplished musician, illustrating a point in his Sunday sermon by playing a cello solo.

The power of music to raise the heart and mind to God is part and parcel of religious experience across the board. When the concepts and ideas of religion have faded and blurred, sacred words and melodies continue to do their job. Not only does hymn singing teach religious truth, the experience of voices united becomes a privileged moment of grace that comforts and sustains believers when the pain (or the joy) begins to run so deep that we think we will break apart into a thousand pieces. The singing holds us together. Later on we can reflect, pull it apart, put it all back together, begin to try to make some sense of it all. But for now ... we sing.

The September 11, 2001, terrorist attack on the Pentagon and the World Trade Center found us gathering in places of worship to give voice to the sighs, tears, groans, and sobs of our hearts. Members of Congress took the lead: "God bless America, land that I love," they sang. There are times when the heart speaks, not only the mind.

The fact that the hymnbook was placed next to the Bible indicates to me that the poetic texts and their melodies exist to serve the word of God, to plant it ever more deeply in the human heart. This is accomplished in a number of ways. Meter and melody become aids to memorization. The rise and fall of a melody, a memorable tune, the times, places, and occasions when a well-loved hymn is sung, especially at key moments in life experience, have a deep and lasting effect on the whole person. And, as the years pass, we remember more and more those whose voices at one time resounded with ours in sacred song, but who have now gone before us, marked with the sign of faith. In the communion of saints we are the one people of God formed by the word of God.

In the many Baptists hymnals I have seen, each hymn has a heading, a quotation from Scripture, to direct the singers more specifically to the Word of God. These headings can become food for individual meditation, and study. The hymn texts themselves are full of references to Scripture. In fact, many are direct paraphrases of the Psalms and other important Scripture texts.

Unlike other Christian groups, I am told that Baptists do not sing or recite the Nicene Creed or use other creedal statements in their common worship. I have observed that what is or is not in the hymnal chosen by a particular congregation, and what is or is not regularly sung in worship is a strong indication of what is believed, and how it is believed in daily life. It is in hymn singing, then, that the sacred formulas of the Baptist faith-tradition are proclaimed "in one voice," handed on, and preserved. In answer to the question, Is there a rule of faith among Baptists that fires their spiritual life? I would answer, Yes. Look to the hymnal. There you will find it.

Drawing on my experience, I like to say that Baptists are "custodians of the sacred formulas" presented in the Scriptures. In hymn singing, these same Scriptures find voice as well as a place in each heart.

The hymnal, then, is the "sung Bible" of those who "sing a new song to the Lord." And I conclude that in the Bible on the mantle, and the hymnbook next to it, we find two key pillars of Baptist spirituality.

Front Porch

Ours is an age when many new homes are built in gated communities. Instead of large front porches, there are privacy fences. Due to requirements of work and various other reasons, many today are highly mobile, even moving every few years. One of the precious memories of my youth is spending summer and fall evenings either walking up and down the block or sitting on the various front porches of friends and neighbors telling stories, learning family histories, and just getting general information about the meaning of life. People did not lock their doors. We kids belonged to the neighborhood. All adults were "guardian angels" watching over us, especially the grandmas and grandpas sitting on their front porches in their rocking chairs. These front porches have come to symbolize for me openness and availability, a hospitality that is warm and ready.

Whether I have been with a church group, in a home, speaking at a Baptist Student Union meeting, or on a camping trip with Baptist youth, I have invariably experienced the warmest of welcomes. In addition to smiles, friendly words, and gestures of kindness, the welcome I have received has always included a reading of Scripture, a word of prayer, and the sharing of food and drink with good conversation.

The sincere welcome of strangers, attention to their needs, engaging them in attentive conversation, inviting them to become part of the fellowship in so far as they might wish--for me, all these have come to characterize Baptist hospitality. Since my Baptist experience has been exclusively in the South, I suspect something of "southern hospitality" has been at work here as well. Perhaps the one cannot be separated from the other.

There are significant texts in Scripture that enjoin hospitality. In his famous chapter "On the Reception of Guests," St. Benedict legislates that "all guests are to be received as Christ himself," and "every honor of respect is to be shown them." In showing hospitality, Baptist spirituality is being true to the gospel, especially those words of our Lord, "I was a stranger, and you took me in," and "whatever you have done for the least, you have done for me."

Baptist spirituality has open arms and warm hearts.

Rocking Chair

On the front porch was a rocking chair with a shawl draped over it, as though grandma had just been sitting there. The image of the recently occupied rocking chair reminds me that churches are one of the last places in our society where the young and old mix together. This is especially the case for Baptists who preserve the tradition of gathering for prayer and fellowship on Wednesday evenings.

Many of my visits with Baptists have occurred on these Wednesdays when I've been the invited speaker. I've seen all ages and conditions together, eating, talking, sharing the news--in general, just enjoying one another's company. And, of course, hearing the Scriptures, singing the hymns, remembering the needs of all in prayer, and giving themselves over to a bit of "spiritual refreshment" in the middle of a busy work week.

As I see the toddlers crawling around, the teenagers mixing with their friends, moms and dads arranging the details of supper at church, and many gray heads laughing, telling stories, passing the news, or just sitting contentedly, happy to be out of the house and with "church folk," I reflect on the many gifts that flow from having those gifted with years available for the young, especially our teenagers, and vice versa.

Because of the mobility of our society, so many of our youth do not have grandparents available to nurture, instruct, and love them as only grandparents can. Many grandparents live far away. To my way of thinking, this is a significant factor that contributes to the troubles some of our young people are experiencing today. Mom and dad can't be expected to do it all; they can't be everything for their kids.

I would suggest that if biological grandparents are not available, it's important to get "grandparents" for kids. What can the elderly do for the young? Since life's trials and suffering have brought them knowledge and maturity, senior members help our youth to see human affairs with greater wisdom. They offer our young people precious advice and guidance as they face the future and set out on life's paths.

For the community as a whole, senior members are "living encyclopedias of wisdom" and "guardians of the collective memory" of the life of a community. They provide a priceless treasure of human and spiritual experiences for all to draw on.

I like to call my Baptist friends "people of the Wednesday night," because of their faithfulness to this midweek gathering for prayer and. fellowship. Nothing stands out for me more at these gatherings than the respect shown to senior members. Baptist spirituality, I conclude, views old age as a "favorable time" when many things come together, when we better grasp life's meaning, and attain wisdom of heart.

Baptists reverence this final stage of life as a sign of God's blessing. This is evidenced for me as I visit the homes and hospitals that Baptists support in order to provide assistance for the greater needs that age and illness entail. In recent years, churches have begun to sponsor home visitors, nurses, and others who minister specifically to those who are home bound or in some way limited in their mobility.

Loneliness is always an issue for the human condition. Using good organizational skills and affirming professional competencies, I see great care being taken that the elderly not feel abandoned and alone in their time of need. For decades, they have been the strength and stay of many a church community. As their powers wane and their visibility lessens, they are not forgotten. In establishing so many intentional programs to meet the needs of the elderly, Baptists give a clear message that old age is not a useless and troublesome burden, but a time of grace. Baptist spirituality takes to heart the divine command to honor father and mother, and to reverence gray hairs.

Bed, Board, and Hearth

Baptist origins, especially in the South, are frontier origins. I would say that certain aspects of these origins are Still alive and well today. These stand out for me: rugged independence, a strong sense of responsibility, and faithful fulfillment of duty-all indispensable for keeping family going.

Independence manifests itself in the respect shown for the right of the individual to pursue the spiritual journey under the guidance of the Holy Spirit at work in each heart. This journey begins with accepting Jesus as personal Lord and Savior. It continues in the decision to seek baptism and to partake of the Supper.

At times this independence can be fierce: "Baptists multiply by dividing!" I was recently informed. In many ways, this independence can result in a rich variety of mutually enriching experiences.

A strong sense of responsibility leads many to tithe time, talent, and resources. The gifts of grace are generously used in mutual service, not only for the immediate church community, but also for all who may be in need of any kind. As a result, an atmosphere of gratitude is fostered for God's many good gifts, as well as an atmosphere of joy for the ability to be able to Help and share. Individuals are appreciated for their specific talents, the use of which is enabled and assisted by group context and effort.

The constant and faithful fulfillment of duty also stands out for me as characteristic of Baptist spiritual life. Sunday school lessons are taught and learned, choir practices attended; in fact, obligations are met on every level so that church life and gospel values may be sustained.

At the root of all this, I recognize that Baptists are well practiced in all it takes to make family possible and to keep family life going. This is represented for me in the closeness of bed, board, and hearth in the primitive log cabin. It is in the home that the capacity to enjoy life as God's primordial gift begins, is preserved, and increases. The regular discipline of making the family meal happen and enjoying it, for example, involves the time and talent of many, and teaches children valuable lessons that last a lifetime.

One of my richest memories is an evening visit I once made to Baptist friends. We enjoyed supper, spent a relaxing time in conversation, and then, before bedtime, shared family evening devotions. The youngest child lit a candle, another read a passage from Scripture, mom offered a prayer, and dad led the singing of the verse of a favorite hymn. The domestic church at work!

And then there was the unforgettable "Christmas pageant" I recently attended. Bathrobes and towels were turned into all-purpose biblical clothes, the family dog served as a camel, as brothers, sisters, cousins and friends told again the age-old story of the birth of him who deigned to take human flesh and live thirty of his thirty-three years as a loving son in the context of small-town family. It was for me as moving as any liturgy in a great cathedral.

Having spoken of the independent streak in Baptist spirituality, I would also affirm that their experience of family life forges strong links of mutual dependence that result in an indispensable solidarity. Individuals, families, and church communities are strengthened. Lived according to gospel values, family life provides both roots and wings, dependence and independence, for its members.

Baptist spirituality is the spirituality of the domestic church, the home.

The Company of Those Who Believed

To put it in a word: Baptist spirituality is the spirituality of the Acts of the Apostles: "The company of those who believed were of one heart and soul" (Acts 4:32, RSV). I have referred to my Baptist friends as "People of the Wednesday night." Of late, I have been speaking to them about my hope for the future in words like these:

 I urge you to preserve the Wednesday night. Guard it faithfully and keep
 it continually. Do not allow the pressures of modern living to take over.
 You do the world a great favor and bring many blessings on all of us when,
 "out of need and out of custom," you gather together to hear the word of
 God, to pray, and to break bread in the love of sisters and brothers, the
 "company of those who believe.

 Your gatherings remind us all of the primacy of prayer. In a world of
 fast food and meals on the run, you demonstrate the importance of sitting
 down together and enjoying the fellowship of a shared meal. At a time when
 the elderly are conveniently "warehoused" and left to themselves, teens run
 where and when they will, and concerns for career and social status absorb
 the time and energy of many adults, your gatherings show us what really
 works--what is, in fact, God's plan for human happiness: life together,
 people being one in heart and soul.

Fundamental Things Apply

One last thought. When speaking of a particular "spirituality," the question often comes up of spiritual disciplines: fasting, solitude and silence, holy reading, spiritual direction, manual labor, the use of holy reminders such as icons, burning candles, incense, bells, and so on. Some or all of these have come to play a part in the spiritual life of some of my Baptist friends, to their benefit. It is in the observance of the "Wednesday night," however, that I would locate what I would consider the disciplines particular to Baptist spirituality. I offer a prayer of thanksgiving as I drive by Baptist churches on Wednesday nights and see the parking lot filled with cars. I know that the Holy Spirit is at work. And the whole world knows a blessing.

Blest be the tie that binds! (4)

(1.) The Baptist Hymnal (Nashville: Convention Press, 1991), 260.

(2.) Ibid., 261.

(3.) Ibid., 260.

(4.) Ibid., 387

Samuel F. Weber is associate professor of early Christianity and spiritual formation, Wake Forest University Divinity School, Winston-Salem, North Carolina.