In my previous article in this series, I referred to the Georgia Baptist Convention’s (GBC) decision to end its 148-year relationship with the First Baptist Church of Decatur because it called a woman as its pastor. The main question in that conflict was not, “Is it right or wrong to have a woman pastor?” The critical question was, “To whom does God give the authority to make such decisions for our lives and churches?”

They kicked them out. It shocked Baptists around the world when the Georgia Baptist Convention voted to end its 148-year relationship with First Baptist Church of Decatur. Why did this group of Baptists turn its back on the Decatur Baptists? Why did they refuse to accept the church’s money for missions? Was it because the church stopped believing in God? No. Was it because they no longer believe in Jesus? No. Was it because they rejected the Bible? No. Then what was serious enough that the 1.4 million-member Baptist convention voted to turn their backs on their long-time Baptist church friends? The convention’s official explanation was “because a woman is serving as senior pastor.”

When a boy in my first grade class in Ft. Lauderdale, FL, called Susi a bad word, Billy punched him in the nose. After Billy got ten whacks with the principal’s paddle, he said “I don’t care about the ten whacks. It was the right thing to do. Pop always says that real men fight for what they believe.” On the other hand, Johnny, my other friend, got the opposite message from his daddy, “It’s never right to fight. If you fight, you’re just admitting that you’re not smart enough to work things out by talking.” Because of their beliefs, both of my friends stayed in trouble during and after school. Consequences always follow beliefs. Some consequences are helpful, others are hurtful. That’s true for little boys, but also for parents, churches, businesses and governments.

When I came to Midlothian, TX, as the new young pastor of the First Baptist Church, I was thrilled about their tradition of holding annual evangelistic services in the public schools. In my first year, I preached our Baptist version of salvation during school hours to a captive audience of the not-yet-converted school children. That was my first and last opportunity. The next year, when First Baptist lost its school board majority position, another faith group gained board control and took over the annual public school evangelistic services. The new preacher’s version of salvation was quite different from the Baptist version.

Last month in Richmond, VA, the Westboro Baptist Church picketed the local Holocaust Museum, carrying signs and chanting "God Hates Jews." On the same day, other Richmond Baptists stood up for the Jewish Community and in opposition to the anti-Jewish protestors. Both groups call themselves Baptists, but have radically different beliefs as to how Christians should relate to people of different faiths. The Westboro Baptist Church should have the right to peacefully express their beliefs. However, if they had picketed against our Huebner Road neighbor, Congregation Agudas Achim, Woodland is the kind of Baptist church that would have disagreed with the Westboro protestors and stood up for our Jewish neighbor’s religious rights.

The consequences of choosing the freedom road are rewarding but often costly. In 1651 two Baptist preachers, Obadiah Holmes and John Holmes, traveled from Newport, RI to Lynn, MA to visit their Baptist friend, William Witters, who was blind and in prison. Witters made a costly decision that landed him in jail. He was arrested because he held an evening Bible study in his home without prior government consent. For his punishment, Witters was offered a public beating on the Boston Commons or a small, under-the-table, monetary fine. He chose the beating as a witness to his convictions. For years, Witters spoke of the inner peace he had from following the example of his Lord. His friends noted that, until his death, the scars from his flogging bore witness of his Baptist beliefs.

Baptists frequently make headlines. Some stories make us proud to be called Baptist. Others make us feel embarrassed, sorrowful or even angry. Some stories picture Baptists as a bunch of feuding, fussing and fighting, religious fanatics. With such diverse beliefs and practices among over 300 different American denominations and other faith organizations that include the word “Baptist” in their name, it is obvious that in some key ways, many such groups are far from what our historic founders meant when they called themselves “Baptist.” From their beginnings, Baptists emphasized freedom as the glue that held together all of their other beliefs. That emphasis did not promote human sufficiency, self centeredness or irresponsible pride. Actually, it was the opposite.