Editor’s note: Recently, Midwestern Seminary & Spurgeon College hosted a chapel panel discussion on the topic, “Why We are Southern Baptist.” This article by Jason Duesing expands upon his comments during the chapel session and is based on his course lectures and essays written over the last two decades. Watch the full panel here.
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By: Jason G. Duesing
Why am I a Southern Baptist?
This is one question I ask students taking the required Baptist history class I teach. I ask it because every generation of Baptist seminary students asks it, or will ask it, or needs to ask it, and I want them to know how I answer it and have arrived at my answer with cheerful conviction.
While it is true that there are many Protestant and Evangelical churches who are like-minded and share the same core convictions about doctrine and missions as the Baptists, for those preparing to serve and lead Baptist churches, my course is designed to help them understand, develop, and defend their convictions about the ecclesial tradition to which their church is connected.1
A High View of a Low and Free Church
Like a coin with two sides, the Baptist tradition is a story that must be told in both history and theology. To look only at the historical development minimizes the theological foundation of important pre-Baptist influences. To look only at theological connections minimizes the actual events and people in history who referred to themselves as Baptist by name. As such, it is right to see the theological start of Baptist churches as rooted in the Protestant Reformation, even while the chronicling of churches named Baptist does not appear in history until a century later in England.2
Keeping both history and theology in view is what I call a “symphonious approach” to assessing movements in history.3 Just like with a symphony of music, history and theology represent diverse and complementary components; each play an overlapping part that, when examined together, produces a comprehensive piece. For example, while it is helpful to determine who were the first people in history to name something or start something, it is also necessary to understand what thoughts influenced their actions and how those thoughts fit into the development of those people and those around them.
In the same way, where it is helpful to examine why churches first adopted the practice of believer’s baptism—what they were thinking and how they made their theological argument—it is needed to understand who these people were, how they arrived at their conclusions, and the cultural circumstances that influenced their thinking and actions. A symphonious approach allows the movements of both history and theology to play together and presents both well-ordered history and well-reasoned theology without the distractions of prioritized chronology or doctrine separated from people and churches.
As my class tracks the symphony of both Baptist theology and history, I summarize the theological distinctives that grew throughout the history of the Baptist tradition this way:
(1) A people of the Bible who preach the gospel and have found it helpful to summarize what the Bible says about the Christian life in confessions of faith. (2) The practice of believer’s baptism by immersion as the entrance to a (3) believer’s church that is (4) free and separate from the state and thus advocates religious freedom for all in society while (5) seeking to share the gospel with all in society and to the ends of the earth in an intentional and organized Great Commission focus on evangelism and missions, all done through (6) biblical cooperation among churches.4
I like to condense all these distinctives into the two categories of church health and religious liberty, advocated by and from the Gospel. Or to put it another way, Baptists have a high view of a low and free church.
Why Baptists first became Baptist
Next in my class, I pair this understanding of what Baptists believe with how they developed those beliefs in history. The Baptist Tradition’s connection to the Reformation is like that of a tree to its roots. What connects later Baptist churches in England to 16th century doctrinal renewal in Europe is rooted in the Reformation’s recovery of the Gospel as expressed in the five solas: Scripture alone, faith alone, grace alone, Christ alone, to the glory of God alone. Later Baptists demonstrate this connection through their confessions of faith, which sought to maintain connectivity both to the core doctrines of the Christian tradition, as well as those renewed during the Reformation. The doctrine of the church is where they branched from those roots, following the path started by the Anabaptists—a pre-Baptist wing of the Reformation who championed the separation of church and state as marked by the practice of believer’s baptism.5
The story of Baptist cooperation in England in the 17th century is one of survival. Rooted in the English Reformation, these early Baptists were the heirs of a renewal movement that was fueled by access to the Bible in English. This led them to pursue their convictions to form separate self-governed churches. Yet, this early movement was illegal, and their existence was threatened by the state Church of England that forbade participation in other worship services.
At this point in my class, I tell my students that I love evangelical Anglicans and the wider evangelical tradition. I’ve been helped theologically and in my own spiritual formation by the Puritans, C. S. Lewis, and J. I. Packer. In fact, as all believers who read the Bible in English are, in some sense, heirs of the English Reformation, it is my favorite era in church history to teach.6
Yet, though a friend of evangelical Anglicans, like the earliest Baptists, I do not hold to their doctrine of the church. As I grew up in the Episcopalian-Anglican church, I was asked years ago to write an essay in which I aimed to evaluate Anglican ecclesiology historically and theologically.7 Here are my conclusions:
First, even though Anglicanism is officially separate from Roman Catholicism politically and otherwise, there remains an inherent connection through their polity and specifically through their continued use of the hierarchical system of church leadership. As Anglican historian Diarmaid MacCulloch states, “[T]he story of Anglicanism, and the story of the discomfiture of Elizabeth’s first bishops, is the result of the fact that this tension between Catholic structure and Protestant theology was never resolved.”8 Without this connection there would not be the reoccurring talks of the Church of England returning to the “Mother Church.”9 A cousin once removed from Roman Catholicism, the Church of England still bears a family resemblance.
Second, in the history of the Church of England there are very few who attempt to make a biblical case for their offices of church leadership. Even if one appeals to the secondary nature of these doctrines, the New Testament is not silent about the matter and the biblical evidence leans strongly in favor of the argument that the terms for bishop and elder are used interchangeably.10
Third, while an appeal to Scripture is lacking, the overwhelming reliance upon tradition is the very thing that causes the complexity and confusion within the Anglican Communion when seeking to understand church leadership. The use of tradition is a helpful tool but in the end, remains a record of the activities and constructions of failed men and women. Tradition is needed and helpful, but it is not Scripture.11
To tie everything together in my class, I underscore that the Baptist movement began in England as small groups of men and women met to establish themselves in churches, separated from the state Church of England, and then sought fellowship with other churches around common beliefs and practice. This early confessional cooperation grew out of, and centered around, the Reformation program of doctrinal renewal which led to the recovery of the biblical Gospel message. Baptists, then, first became Baptist following this pattern and emerged from the study of what they understood the Bible to say about the local church.
A Fleet Sailing Together
As these Baptist churches gained strength, they crossed to the New World and grew into a fleet of churches sailing together, united in doctrine and headed in Great Commission direction. By the start of the 19th century, Baptist churches determined that the primary reason for cooperating as a national denomination of churches was simple: global missions.
The picture of churches as ships sailing is fitting for understanding where one fits in relationship to Southern Baptist churches as it conveys, first, that they are not the only ships at sea. There are many churches, of course, but not all have set sail, and not all are headed in the direction of global evangelism. Thus, it is helpful for believers, and believers together in churches, to find partners who not only agree with their design and beliefs, but also with their shared trajectory. Not all churches aiming to fulfill the Great Commission are Baptist churches, and wherever possible Baptist churches can and should sail with those with whom they can unite in evangelism and missions. Likewise, as Baptist churches seek to start new churches to add to their fleet, they will find safe harbor and maximized mission when they work with other Baptist churches who not only are sailing in the same direction, but also are united on what kinds of churches they are seeking to fund and start together at the ends of the earth.
Second, the picture conveys that these ships do need to tend to their own vessels to maximize speed and stay on course. To stay afloat in the world for Gospel proclamation, Baptist churches have found the need to prioritize their own doctrinal and congregational health. These ships will, no doubt, encounter storms without and conflict within. A church who has lost its first love may also lose the Spirit’s enabling wind-power behind it. Baptist churches at sea need to minimize any hindrance that would pull them off course.
Third, this picture conveys that individuals can serve and live on one ship at a time. While circumstance may dictate the need for believers to change churches, for most the norm is continuing to serve on the ship where one is placed. When a sailor is counting on the buoyancy of his ship for his life and safe travel, he is far more likely to look after the health and heading of the ship. It is a picture of foolishness to see sailors lounging on the top deck complaining about their ship, or envying another ship nearby, when their own is languishing due to their lack of effort. Thus, Baptist churches are more likely to be strengthened, revitalized, and steered back on course when their members are focused on thankfulness for the ship on which they have been placed, the fleet in which they are a part, and using their gifts to help keep that ship, and fleet, on course.
Why I am a Southern Baptist
When I complete my lectures on Baptist church history in seminary classes, I end by reminding them that the Baptist cooperative fleet of ships is not alone. There are many other ships from other corners of the Christian tradition committed to the Gospel and sailing in a Great Commission direction. What I mean to acknowledge is that no one is required to be a Southern Baptist to be a faithful Christian.
So, then, why am I committed to the churches of the Southern Baptist Convention?
I remind the students that for me, as much as it is a matter of joyful conviction about what I understand as biblical ecclesiology, it is also a matter of personal stewardship and testimony. I share with them how God, in his kindness during my college years, called out and saved a spiritually lost, Christian-in-name-only-Episcopalian and placed me in a Baptist church sailing with other churches in the Southern Baptist Convention. On that ship, I was discipled, baptized, and loved by a genuine New Testament community of believers.
Over time, that church recognized God’s work in my life and sent me to seminary. They, along with thousands of other churches, gave sacrificially in cooperative effort to fund my theological education and, more than that, ensured that the seminary they funded maintained doctrinal integrity. Through that same inter-congregational cooperative work, I have visited the mission fields of the world and have seen and contributed to the work of these churches at the ends of the earth. Seeing the end goal of the Great Commission bearing fruit as the result of churches working together has long been what has made me thankful for the Southern Baptist ship on which I first set sail.
To be consistent with my students, I am honest about the sins, faults, and distractions that have beset this Convention of churches and hindered their progress at various points in history. However, I gladly tell them that the end goal is still worthy of pursuit and worth the effort to help all the ships of churches sail in that Great Commission direction. From small groups in 17th century England, Baptist churches have persevered to hold inter-congregational cooperation in doctrinal confession and missionary endeavor as a key distinctive. As I love to tell my students, this story is worthy of retelling to inspire ongoing renewal of Baptist churches of the present and future as they carry out the same mission.
In every sense, I hope my students see that I am like the earliest Baptists: thankful for where I have been placed and what I have received, now serving with joy in confessional cooperation, joining with others in Southern Baptist churches to reach the nations for Christ and for the glory of God.
Footnotes:
1 For more on how these theological distinctives formed in history and an expanded version of this article see my chapter “Cooperation in Baptist Beginnings, 1609-1845” in A Unity of Purpose, Tony Wolfe and W. Madison Grace II, eds. (B&H, 2025).
2 Baptist historians have long debated Baptist beginnings. For a survey of views see James M. Stayer, Werner Packull, and Klaus Deppermann, “From Monogenesis to Polygenesis: The Historical Discussion of Anabaptist Origins,” Mennonite Quarterly Review 49:2 (Apr 1975): 83-121; William H. Brackney, A Genetic History of Baptist Thought (Macon, GA: Mercer University Press, 2004); Timothy George, “Dogma Beyond Anathema: Historical Theology in Service of the Church,” in Review and Expositor 84:4 (Fall 1987): 691-713.
3 Jason G. Duesing, “Pre-beginnings,” in John D. Massey, Mike Morris, and W. Madison Grace II, Make Disciples of All Nations: A History of Southern Baptist International Missions (Kregel Academic, 2021),37.
4 Jason G. Duesing, “Baptist Contributions to the Christian Tradition,” in Christopher W. Morgan, Matthew Y. Emerson, R. Lucas Stamps, eds., Baptists and the Christian Tradition (Nashville: B&H Academic, 2020), 339.
5 For more see my article, “Preaching Against the State: The Persecution of the Anabaptists as an Example for 21st Century Evangelicals,” 14:2 (2015):54-82.
6 A portion of this appreciation can be seen in this essay I wrote for Themelios that surveys 500 years of evangelical preaching in Oxford. “Beacons from the Spire: Evangelical Theology and History in Oxford’s University Church,” (2024).
7 See my chapter “A Wrinkle on Catholicism: The Anglican Understanding of Church Government,” in Thomas R. Schreiner and Benjamin L. Merkle, eds. Shepherding God’s Flock: Church Leadership in the New Testament and Beyond (Kregel, 2014).
8 Diarmaid MacCulloch, The Later Reformation in England, 1547-1603 (New York: Palgrave, 2001), 29.
9 Madeleine Teagan, “Historic Mass celebrated by papal nuncio at Anglican cathedral in rare event,” Catholic News Agency, July 9, 2025.
10 See Gregg R. Allison, Sojourners and Strangers: The Doctrine of the Church (Wheaton: Crossway, 2012), 260, and Benjamin L. Merkle, The Elder and Overseer: One Office in the Early Church (New York: Peter Lang, 2003).
11 For more on the role of tradition see my chapter “Baptist Contributions to the Christian Tradition,” in Christopher W. Morgan, Matthew Y. Emerson, R. Lucas Stamps, eds., Baptist and the Christian Tradition (Nashville: B&H Academic, 2020).