BAPTISM IN WATER

Dr. W. A. Criswell

John 3:23

3-22-87    10:50 a.m.

We welcome the throngs of you who share the hour with us on radio and on television.  This is the pastor bringing the message entitled The Baptism in Water.  In our preaching through the Gospel of John, we came to the fourth chapter, and I began preaching through the marvelous revelation of the Lord’s messianic ministry to this Samaritan woman [John 4:7-26].  But as I prayed and thought through the gospel message, my mind went back again and again; I could not keep it out of my mind, a reference in the previous chapter, in the third chapter of John; a little aside, a small addendum.  So I just decided to go back to the third chapter and speak on that little half of a clause.  And when I did, I found the message too long to present in one sermon.  So the first half of it I presented last Sunday morning; and this Sunday morning is the second part.  It is in John, 22 and 23 of the third chapter:

After these things came Jesus and His disciples into the land of Judea; and there He tarried with them, and baptized.

And John also was baptizing in Aenon near to Salim, because there was much water there: and they came, and were baptized.

[John 3:22-23]

And the little aside, the little addendum: “Because there was much water there” [John 3:23].  John could not carry through his God-appointed ministry with a teacup, or with a little one-inch baptismal font, or with a small glass.  He had to obey God in a ministry that involved much water.  “Much water!”  And that little aside carries with it more truth of the meaning of God in a sacred ordinance than a whole exposition.

There are seventy‑four instances in the New Testament where the Greek word baptizō is used.  And there are twenty‑two times in the sacred Scriptures where the noun baptisma is used.

The best classical Greek lexicon is by Liddell and Scott, and he says baptizō means “to dip in or under water.”  The finest Greek lexicon is by Bauer, and Bauer says baptizō means “to dip,” “to immerse,” “to submerge.”  The highest possible Roman Catholic authority is found in the Douay Version.  If you are a Protestant, you’ll have a Bible like mine—King James Version, or something similar.  If you are Catholic, you’ll use the Douay Version.  Now the Douay Version, with its notes, was officially vindicated by the pope himself.  And in that Douay Version, the comment on Matthew 3:6, the baptism of John:

Baptize—the word ‘baptism’ signifies an immersion, or a dipping, or plunging under water which was formerly the ordinary way of administering the sacrament.

  They call it a sacrament.  We call it an ordinance of baptism.

If you have ever been in Pisa in northern Italy, in the grounds there of their cathedral, first is the sanctuary.  Then is the Leaning Tower, which is the bell tower, and right by the side is a spacious and beautiful baptistery, a separate building.  If you have ever been in Florence, Italy, the Duomo, this great cathedral in which Savonarola preached, then, in front, is the bell tower, tall, spired bell tower.  Then there’s a third building there, the Baptistery.  Michelangelo looked at the bronze doors on that baptistery and said: “They are worthy [of] the doors of heaven itself.”

There are four basilicas in Rome: St. Peter’s, where the Vatican is located, St. Mary, St. John Lateran, and St. Paul’s on the Astian Way.  In that basilica of St. Paul’s is the most beautiful baptistery I’ve ever seen in this world.  It looks to me as though it would hold one hundred fifty people at the same time.  The practice of the Roman Catholic Church, like the practice of the Greek Catholic church today—they have their Bible in Greek; and having it in Greek, the Greek Catholic church immerses.  They immerse three times—in the name of the Father, one time; in the name of the Son, second time; in the name of the Holy Spirit, a third time.

But the Roman Catholic Church, during the first Christian centuries, administered the ordinance by baptism.  I quote from the credentials of the Catholic religion, quote, “The common method during the first twelve centuries was to baptize by immersion.”  And again, quoting from that authority:

Anciently those who were baptized were immersed and buried in water to represent their death to sin, and then did rise up out of the water to signify their entrance upon a new life.  In baptism by a kind of analogy or resemblance, while our bodies are under the water, we may be said to be buried with Him.

John Wesley—and I wish I had time to recount some of these things on the pages of Christian history—John Wesley, the founder of the Methodist church, in his explanatory notes on the New Testament, on Romans 6:4 that you just read, “We are buried with Him,” John Wesley writes:

This alludes to the ancient manner of baptizing by immersion.  That is, Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we also, by the same power, should rise again.  As He lives a new life in heaven, so we should walk in newness of life.  Thus, says the apostle, our very baptism represents that to us.

And then John Wesley writes in his comment on Colossians 2:12:

“Buried with Him in baptism . . .” The ancient manner of baptizing by immersion is manifestly alluded to here by which you are also risen with Him from the death of sin to the life of holiness.

Now why is it that in my King James Version and in the version of the Bible that  you read, why is it that the word is not translated?  Transliterated?  Well, the answer is very plain.  By 1611, when the King James Version was translated—by 1611, the Anglican church sprinkled.  John Wesley belonged to the Anglican church, he never left it.  So the translators of the King James Version, when they came to the word baptizō, baptisma, they went to the king and laid before the king their perplexity in what to do.  What shall they do with that verb?

So the meaning was plain, and they could not obviate it and under the direction of the king, it was decided to transliterate the word, to make it an English word, b‑a‑p‑t‑i‑z‑o, in Greek, baptizō; transliterating it b‑a‑p‑t‑i‑z‑e, in English; didn’t translate it, just spelled it out in English.  But the meaning of the word has never changed.  Through all of the years and the years and the years that the Greek language has been spoken and in which the word of men has been written; that word has always remained the same.

Hippocrates, the father of medicine, in 460 born, describing the respiration of a patient afflicted with inflammation of the throat, he said, “She breathed as persons breathe after having been baptized and emitted a low sound from the chest, after having been immersed.”

Aristotle, the incomparable Greek philosopher—did you know I looked at a catalog of Oxford University, and there were four hundred courses taught at the same time on Aristotle?  I couldn’t believe it!  Aristotle, writing of what the Phoenician colonists had seen when they sailed beyond the Pillars of Hercules—that’s what he called it, the Strait of Gibraltar—I quote from him:

Sailing four days beyond the Pillars of Hercules, with an east wind, they came to a desert place full of rushes and seaweed which, at low tide, are not baptized—not immersed—but at flood tide are baptized, are immersed.

Polybius, the great Greek historian, in his book speaking of the passage of the Roman army under Consul Tiberius through the River Trebia, swollen by heavy rains—Polybius writes: “They pass through with difficulty, the foot soldiers baptized up to the waist.”

The same Polybius, Greek historian, describing the manner of taking swordfish with an iron-headed spear, uses a harpoon, throwing it into the sea, he writes:

And even if the spear falls into the sea, it is not lost.  For it is compacted of both oak and pine so that when the oaken part is baptized—

sinks in the water, immersed by the weight—

the rest is buoyed up and is easily recovered.

Strabo, the great Greek geographer, speaking of the march of Alexander’s army along a narrow beach flooded in stormy weather between the mountain climax and the Pamphylian Sea, Strabo writes:

Alexander, happening to be there at the stormy season and accustomed to trust for the most part to fortune, set forward, before the swell subsided, and they marched the whole day in water baptized as far as to the waist.

Diodorus, Greek historian, in his history—he was a contemporary of the apostles—describing the effects of the rapid rise of the waters of the Nile during the annual inundation, he wrote:

Most of the wild land animals are surrounded by the waters and perish, being baptized.  But some escaping to the high grounds are saved.

Diodorus, same historian—he was a Sicilian—in his account of Timoleon’s defeat of the Carthaginian army on the banks of the River Crimisus, says that many of the Carthaginians perished in the swollen stream.  And this is the word that he uses: “The river, rushing down with the current, increased in violence and baptized many and destroyed them as they attempted to swim through the waters with their armor.”  Weighted down, they were drowned, immersed, baptized.

Josephus, describing Jonah’s flight to Tarsus [Jonah 1], speaks: “The ship, being just about to be baptized,” to be overturned and submerged.  And in Josephus’s book of The Jewish Wars, he’s describing the war between the Romans and the Jews, and the war began in Galilee; and Josephus, by the way, was the head of the Jewish army.  And describing that war that you know ensued in the destruction of the Israelite nation, the Jewish nation, he says:

And when the Jews ventured to come near the Romans on the sea, they suffered harm before they could afflict any.  And they were baptized along with their vessels—they were submerged—and those of the baptized who raised their heads, either a missile reached or a vessel overtook them.

The same Josephus, writing in The Jewish Wars, describes the death of a man named Simon, the son of Saul, who was a traitor.  And in an anguish of confession and repentance, he slew his father, his mother, his wife, and all of his children.  And then, Josephus says: “And stretching out his right hand so as to be seen by all, he baptized his whole sword into his bowels.”

Plutarch, the incomparable Greek biographer, speaking on the skill of water and land animals, he describes a bird called halcyon.  And he speaks of her skill in constructing her nest, which is shaped like a fisher’s boat so as to float safely on the water.  Then Plutarch says, “that which is molded by her is constructed with the shipwright’s art, and of many forms of nest, it is the only one not liable to be overturned, nor to be baptized.”

And Aesop’s fables: Plutarch, commenting on one of the stories, says:

A salt-bearing mule crossing a river accidentally slipped down.  And when he did, he learned that the salt dissolved and the load was lightened.  And the mule remembered it, and always, when passing through a river, he purposely fell down and baptized his load.

 Smart mule!  And commenting on the fable of the ape and the dolphin, the dolphin is bearing a shipwrecked ape to the shore, and there was an altercation between them.  “And then,” Plutarch writes, “the dolphin, angry at the ape, baptized him and drowned him.”  You’d have a hard time sprinkling him and drowning him wouldn’t you?

Dion Cassius in his Roman history, speaking of the Battle of Actium between Mark Antony on one side, and Octavia or Caesar—Augustus Caesar—on the other side, in that sea battle off the northwest coast of Greece: why, Mark Antony, in his address to his soldiers before the sea fight, boasting of his superior strength, said that the enemy would not venture near because: and quote, “Even if anyone came near, how could he escape being baptized by the multitude of the oars?”  Seeking to describe the efforts of the soldiers of Mark Antony to escape from the flames of the burning vessels—as you know, Mark Antony was overwhelmed, and he and Cleopatra, remember, escaped to Egypt where she took her life, and all the rest.  Now Mark Antony, being defeated in that Battle of Actium, Cassius says, “And other soldiers, leaping into the sea, are struck down by the enemy—were baptized, they were drowned in the sea.

Porphyry, the great Alexandrian philosopher, writing concerning the River Styx—he’s describing the lake of probation in India and the use made of it by the Brahmans for testing the guilt or innocence of those accused of crime—Porphyry writes:

“When the accused come to the water, he is guiltless if he goes through without fear.  But if he is guilty, after proceeding a little way, he is baptized clear to the head.

Here’s one of the cutest little things that I ever read in my life.  The Greek poet Julian, in his ode on Cupid—the little god of love, you know, and romance—Julian says:

As I was once intertwining a garland, I found Cupid in the roses.  And holding him by his wings, I baptized him into wine and took and drank him.  And now within my members he tickles with his wings.

That’s about as cute a way of describing falling in love as I ever heard of in my life—Cupid tickling with his wings on the inside.

The Septuagint translation—and I wish I had time to go into a bunch of those things—in speaking of Naaman:

Then went Naaman down and baptized himself seven times in the Jordan according to the saying of the man of God: and his flesh came again like unto the flesh of a little child, and he was clean.

[2 Kings 5:14]

Athanasius, the great, incomparable champion of the faith: “Oh, all newly enlightened, in these benefits thou was baptized, thou hast the baptism as a surety of heaven.”  And Gregory of Nazianzus: “Let us therefore be buried with Christ by baptism, that we may rise with Him.”  There’s no exception—in all of the centuries and the millennia of the use of the Greek language—there is no exception.  It is a word that describes our burial in water and our resurrection out of the grave to a new and a wonderful life in Christ [Romans 6:3-5].

Now, I want to close in this remaining moment with an avowal, a sharing of that sublime and spiritual truth that we are buried with the Lord, and we are raised to walk in a new and a triumphant and a God-blessed discipleship with Him [Romans 6:4].

For the first ten years of my pastoral ministry, I was out in the country, pastoring rural churches, open rural churches—plow up to the front of the church house, and where they left off, start at the back door and sow to the end of the field.  Preaching in open country churches or in little village churches; four years through the university I did that, and six years through the seminary—starting when I was seventeen years of age.

Not having baptisteries in those little country and rural churches, I baptized in creeks, and in ponds, and in rivers.  I would go out into the middle of the river and standing there waist deep in water, I would take my Bible, and I would preach to the throngs on the bank on either side, and then walk up to the shore, to the bank of the river, and press an appeal, extend an appeal for our Lord.  I used to do that in the Leon River in Coryell County where Gatesville is the county seat; used to do it in the Grand River in Milam County where Cameron is the county seat; used to do it in Barron River in Warren County where Bowling Green is the county seat.

Upon a day in the hot summertime in July, after the summer revival is over—a revival under a tabernacle or under a brush arbor—taking all my converts, I went down to the Leon River in Coryell County.  And there, as I had always done, standing in the middle of the river about waist deep in water and opening the Bible, preached to the throngs that came to witness this scene about the Lord Jesus; and then up to the bank, making an appeal for those to give their hearts and lives to the blessed Christ.  Upon that July summer afternoon, Sunday day, standing there preaching, then going up to the bank and making my appeal, there came down in response to the invitation, Will Burt and his wife and all of his children and the whole tribe.  Up there in a certain part of that county was what they call “Burt Hollow,” and he lived up there, and all of those members of the family up there with him, the whole tribe of them.

When I gave the invitation on the bank of the river, he came forward, with his wife, with his many children, and with all the rest of the Burt family.  And he said to me, “Today, this day, we are accepting the Lord as our Savior.  We’re giving our hearts and lives to Him.  And we want to be baptized.”

I said to Will Burt: “But you’re not prepared.  You don’t have any change of clothing.”

He said: “No matter, no matter, we’ll go home wet.  We’ll go home in the clothes in which we’re baptized.”

Wonderful!  So when I got through baptizing the converts of the revival, I baptized Will Burt, and his wife, and his children, and all of that flock up there in Burt Hollow.  He was an incomparable strength and encouragement to me.  The little church met in a two-room schoolhouse, and had no house of its own, no worship sanctuary.

So meeting Will Burt on the road as he was taking a pair of mules from the field to the barn, I said to him: “You know if I had just one man to stand back of me, we’d build that church house.”

He said: “Why, young pastor, I’ll be that man!”

We went into Gatesville to a lumberyard.  I had already in my mind drawn the house I wanted to build in the form of a cross: the pulpit here, a wing there, a wing there, and the nave in front of me—pull a folding door that way, that will be a Sunday school room—pull a folding door that way, that will be a Sunday school room; here another Sunday school room.  I had it all in my mind; drew it out, and we went through with the lumberman: how much the nails would cost; how much the windows would cost; how much the 2 x 4’s would cost; how much the roof would cost; added it up.  Then, when we did, Will Burt said to me: “Pastor, you call all the men of the church to the schoolhouse for a special meeting on Sunday afternoon, and we’ll start building God’s house.”

So we announced to the people on Sunday afternoon all the men of the community were to meet in a special conference.  They were gathered there, every one of them.  And I stood up and started out with a picture of that little country church house, and how much it would cost, and how it would glorify God, and how desperately we needed it.  It was in the days of the beginning of the deep Depression.  They were selling cotton for five cents a pound.  They never made enough money to feed their families.  And for them to give at all meant to go to the bank and mortgage the farm.

As I pressed the appeal for our little church, the stubborn, hard, unresponsive reaction was manifest on the faces of the men, in the spirit of the meeting, and about halfway through, in despair, I sat down on the front desk and began to weep—one of the things I have years ago ceased to try to control.  My response is always weeping.  When I’m happy, or when I feel God’s presence, or when I’m crushed—just crying—I sat down and just buried my face in my hands and began to weep.

Will Burt stood up, and pointing to me, said, “Young pastor, get on your feet.  Get on your feet!  Take that piece of paper in your hand and your pencil and begin to write.” And he walked over to Pete, Pete Martin, and said: “Pete, tell him how much you’re going to give.  Tell him!”  It meant to go to the bank and mortgage his farm to make the gift.  “You tell him Pete how much you’re going to give!”

And he walked over to his brother J. R. Martin and said: “J. R., tell him how much you’re going to give.”  And he walked over to Alec, Alec David, and said, “Alec, tell him how much you’re going to give.”  And he walked over to Claude, Claude Shepherd: “How much you’re going to give? You tell him!”

And he went through all of those men: “You tell him how much you’re going to give.”  And when the meeting was done, we had enough to build the house.  They did it with their hands.  We bought the material.  It’s there today, after sixty years, still there, still used of God.  And when I left the church to go away to the seminary, I left it in his godly and dedicated hands [Romans 6:4].  And he carried it through faithfully until he died.

We are buried with Him, and dead to the world.  We are raised with Him to walk in newness of life [Romans 6:4].  It’s a new day.  It’s a new hope.  It’s a new vision.  It’s a new prayer.  It’s a new dedication.  It’s a new consecration.  It’s a new commitment—following the Lord in baptism, following His own precious example [Matthew 3:13-17], following the administration of the apostles, and humbly following today in the same beautiful and loving commitment of our Lord.

My brother, it’s a privilege; it’s an open door; it’s a happiness; it’s a glory.  I have been a pastor, as you know, for sixty years.  I have never yet seen anyone follow the Lord in baptism but that after it was over he had a feeling of glory and exaltation and blessing, having done what God commanded us to do [Matthew 28:19-20].

And that’s our appeal to you this sacred and holy moment.  Come.  “Pastor, I’ve accepted the Lord as my Savior, and I want to be baptized just as He was in the Jordan River” [Matthew 3:13-17].  Or, “Pastor, we’re all coming today; the whole family.”  Or, “God has spoken to my heart, and I’m answering with my life.”  As the Spirit shall make appeal, answer now.  “Here I am, Lord, I’m coming.”

In the little moment that we sing our song of appeal, don’t leave!  Don’t leave!  After the hymn you can leave if you want to; it will be all right.  But while we sing our hymn of appeal and while we pray that God’s will be done in every life, stay here and pray and wait and sing with us.  Now may we ask God’s mercies upon the appeal?

Our Lord in heaven, it’s a beautiful thing God has done.  It’s a wonderful thing!  It’s a life changing thing! It’s a sweet and dear and precious thing.  God speaks to our hearts, He points us to Jesus.  And not only did He die on the cross for our sins [1 Corinthians 15:3] but He also was buried in the Jordan River [Romans 6:4], and raised for our justification [Romans 4:25].  And for us to follow in that beautiful example is such a heavenly privilege; such a sweet open door through which to walk.  And our Lord, as we make appeal this holy and sacred hour, may there be many this day, “Pastor, God has spoken to me and here I come.”  Down one of those stairways from the balcony, down one of these aisles; in the press of people on this lower floor and welcome.  And thank You, Lord, for the sweet harvest, in Thy saving and keeping and victorious name, amen.

While we stand and while we sing.