Among Baptists in recent decades there has been a renewed interest in the language of covenant as a way of describing how we belong together. The impulse is understandable. Covenant is a deeply scriptural category, and it carries a sense of relationship, commitment and mutual responsibility that resonates with our congregational instincts. Yet I find myself increasingly unsure that covenant provides the most helpful framework for describing what binds us together across our Union, particularly when the conversation shifts from churches to ministers, and from relationships to doctrinal boundaries.
My concerns are not with covenant in Scripture, but with how covenant functions when imported into denominational or ministerial life. The biblical covenants reveal a God who remains faithful even when human beings fail. They reveal a relationship that begins in grace rather than contract. The origin point is always divine initiative, rooted in a commitment that is neither conditional nor easily dissolved. When covenant is used in Baptist discourse without that frame of reference, it can subtly shift into something rather different. Instead of naming a relationship of grace, it can begin to police the boundaries of compliance. Instead of inviting us to bear with one another in faithfulness, it can become a mechanism for identifying transgression.
This is why I have grown uneasy with suggestions that particular convictions or pastoral decisions might be said to break covenant between ministers. When covenant becomes a tool for determining who is inside or outside acceptable boundaries, it loses its relational centre. It moves away from the biblical character of covenantal life and gravitates toward the language of control. In such moments covenant ceases to describe a shared journey of faith and begins to resemble a code of conduct.
Some have suggested that this difficulty could be resolved through the introduction of a statement of faith or doctrinal rule, which would provide explicit content for the covenantal relationship. I can understand the instinct behind this proposal. It comes from a desire for clarity, depth of engagement with Scripture, and a shared theological vocabulary. These are good instincts. Yet my own experience of life within the Baptist family leads me in a different direction.
The Baptist tradition has held me through seasons of change. I no longer believe everything I believed as a child, and I am grateful for that. I grew through exposure to new ideas, new experiences of the Spirit, and new encounters with Scripture. In each phase of that journey, I remained within a community that allowed space for growth. I did not need to sign a covenant to remain in relationship with the church that nurtured me, any more than I would need a covenant to remain in relationship with my sister. Belonging was given, not earned. It was family, not contract. If Baptist identity had been defined by a fixed doctrinal statement, I suspect that the older version of myself would have been judged unacceptable by the younger. That is not a sign of theological looseness, but a sign that life in Christ is dynamic.
This is why I remain hesitant about adding doctrinal clauses to the Baptist Union Declaration of Principle. The Declaration is far from perfect, yet it captures something essential about our identity. It states enough to orient us without attempting to fix us. It gathers us around Christ, Scripture, baptism for believers and congregational discernment, while leaving space for the Spirit to lead us into deeper truth. Most importantly, it does not constrain the work of God in the lives of those who, like me, grow and change through the years.
For safeguarding Christian orthodoxy, I look not primarily to additional doctrinal definitions but to the promises made in baptism. In baptism we confess Christ, commit ourselves to following, and receive the life of the Spirit. The shape of Christian life and belief flows from that moment. Everything else is secondary. If there is to be a defining boundary for Baptist belonging, it is found there.
I am therefore cautious about attempts to harden the edges of our identity through covenantal or doctrinal language. Baptist life at its best is relational, participatory and open to the transforming presence of God. It is a family gathered around Christ rather than a society held together by contract. It thrives on shared biblical engagement and mutual discernment, not on boundary maintenance.
The challenge facing us is not the absence of doctrinal clarity, but the loss of deeper, communal engagement with Scripture. Baptists have historically read, argued, prayed and discerned together. When we retreat from that practice, everything else begins to wobble. Recovery begins not with new rules but with renewed attention to the living Word.
Covenant in Scripture always points us back to the God who holds us despite our failures. If we are to use the word at all, it must be anchored in that reality. It must remind us that our belonging is a gift of grace, not a badge of doctrinal conformity. And if it cannot do that in our present conversations, then perhaps it is time to look again for language that better reflects who we are called to be.
