Don’t Call Her A Baptist

I grew up in a Baptist church. I was in handbell choir, church choir and GAs. I led a group at middle school camp and belonged to an “accountability group.” I went to Disciple Now. I gave money each Christmas to the Lottie Moon offering and went on choir tour/mission trips for years. I even graduated from a Baptist university and now work for a Baptist organization.

But if someone was to ask me, “Are you a Baptist?” I would say, “No.”

Because I can’t really tell you what a Baptist is.

I don’t say this to offend anyone. I know some truly great Baptist men and women. Some of the greatest are those who led me to Christ as a child, who molded in my heart a love for missions and service. It’s the men and women I work with everyday who love God with all their hearts and live their lives accordingly.

But the truth is, to my generation, it just doesn’t matter whether you’re Baptist or Methodist, Catholic or Presbyterian. We don’t see ourselves as part of a denomination. Or as Cara Jane put it a couple of weeks ago, we aren’t married to the brand.

Instead, we see ourselves as part of the Body. The Body of Christ. And we want to do whatever we can to please God, to serve him, and to love his people while we’re on earth. The only label or agenda we would ever want to be tagged with is the Jesus Agenda.

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