I came to the Baptist faith as a 21-year-old without real ambition or direction.

Among Baptists, I was introduced to a loving God, a challenging savior, the comfort of God’s spirit and a fellowship of warm-hearted, sincere people who genuinely cared about me. I also found a dynamic and lively mission— a movement that was not motivated by self-interest but instead inspired us to love our neighbors as we love ourselves.

This depth and the sincerity of caring from the community stirred something deep within me.

I wasn’t raised in a Christian home. I had no history with pastors or youth leaders. 

I came to the faith as an adult with a spiritual blank slate. I found myself grappling with a strange longing, something I eventually began to understand as a calling.

I served as a Baptist pastor for over 35 years. I have degrees from three Baptist schools and wrote Baptist educational material for what was then the Baptist Sunday School Board for many years. I say all this not to assert some special privilege but simply to make the point that I have a history with Baptists—personally and professionally.

My Baptist connection was originally through the Southern Baptist Convention (SBC). After a long and painful soul search, I decided to end my relationship with the SBC over 25 years ago.

Historically, I was embarrassed by our racist past, including the support of slavery. I was stunned by the way we regarded people of other faiths as “lost,” especially Roman Catholics. 

I was embarrassed by how the SBC treated divorced people. I was further appalled by the way Southern Baptists thought and talked about LGBTQ folk— as if Christians occupied some moral high ground. I was angered by a contorted reading of the Bible that did not allow women to serve in ministry. 

The straw for me was the pandering of the denomination to the Republican Party— as if the GOP stood for “God’s Own Party.”  

So, I left them. Or they left me.

Even though I no longer consider myself a “Southern Baptist,” I do consider myself Baptist. 

I attend Crosscreek Baptist Church in Pelham, a congregation not affiliated with the SBC. Baptist principles inform my theology, piety, and ethics. I treasure a unique set of distinctives that have historically set Baptists apart from other Christian groups.

But now, I’m beginning to question whether I should continue to call myself a Baptist at all.

This year’s SBC convention passed a resolution against in vitro fertilization (IVF). They argued that while it is good to bring life into the world, the unused embryos were “embryonic human life,” the destruction of which the SBC calls murder.

The notion of an embryonic life being fully human is not biblical. The Bible says that we become human beings when God breathes into us “the breath of life.” There does not seem to be any compelling theological or biblical rationale to justify such a sweeping declaration. 

Beyond all that, the resolution was devastating and demoralizing to families facing a last resort in the desire to have children. This is not the first time the SBC has placed its particular theology against science.

Over the years, the SBC has used its belief in biblical inerrancy to question the age of the universe, the reality of evolution and climate change. They have scoffed at the findings of science as if the existence of scientific discoveries and applications were not God-sent.   

Since the SBC has dominated the cultural understanding of what it means to be a Baptist, is it wise to continue to call myself one? What and who am I affirming with my continued identification as a Baptist? 

And while it may be true that the most questionable spiritual and ethical positions were championed by “Southern Baptists,” the word “Baptist” is in there. It has been shaped by over 170 years of SBC use and misuse.

So why not drop the designation altogether? For one, Baptists have been around longer than the southern United States manifestation of the term.

Dating back to the 17th century, Baptists forged a unique way of being Christian in the world. Existing as a despised and persecuted minority, Baptists developed a unique set of distinctives that gave them identity and helped them to withstand periodic persecutions from other, more established Christian groups. 

It is those ideas that make it hard for me to simply walk away from being a Baptist. Here is a brief outline of those Baptist distinctives:

The autonomy of the local church.

Baptists believe that God equips each individual church to decide for itself the direction it should take. The SBC’s efforts to control who a Baptist church may employ as pastor or other leadership are a direct violation of this principle.

The priesthood of the believer.

Baptists believe that individual Christians are competent to hear and follow God’s direction without the intervention of anyone else. When SBC leaders tell women they have misheard or misunderstood God’s calling of them to serve as ministers, they trample on this important truth.

The belief that I am competent to hear and follow God without official approval or direction is the gateway to spiritual growth and maturity.

Biblical authority.

This distinctive is related closely to the Priesthood of the believer. The idea is simple: the Bible is authoritative for worship, theology and ethics.

As Baptists, we are not bound to ancient creeds or other official interpretations. We are expected to go directly to the Bible to discover and discern God’s will. The Bible, interpreted through Jesus’ life and ministry, offers us a solid platform for worship and ethical behavior.

The separation of church and state.

The church has been given its realm of responsibility and activity, as has the state. The church should not try to govern, and the state should not seek to direct or interfere with spiritual pursuits. Placing the Ten Commandments in public schools or mandating school prayer are but two examples of failure to understand this principle.

I am reluctant to give up calling myself a Baptist. If too many of us take that route, the distinctives, already bruised and battered, could be lost forever. The battle may already be lost but I keep hoping for a revival of these distinctives, a renewal that might just be what we need to keep from losing the church altogether. 

A retired Baptist preacher living in Alabama. Over 35 years, he served churches in Alabama, North Carolina and Virginia. In support of his pastoral work, Evans published five books including “First and Second Corinthians: Immersion Bible Studies” (Abingdon Press (2011).