Hello, here is the end piece about Baptists, and this one with the impact of the Puritans on Christianity in England. Dr. Haykin wrote a brief piece on the connection between the Puritans and the Baptists in England. It is not wrong to state that the early church, prior to the early 300s AD, could be identified with baptist views. I am not stating that the Baptists are the best, only correct ones Biblically, I mean no one is perfect or right-on, but us Baptists do attempt to stick to the New Testament configurations of what the early Christians looked like and believed. Kent 

P.S. not sure what will be coming next on Wednesdays. Kent

Article by              Michael A.G. Haykin         Professor, The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary

Baptists were birthed in the matrix of Puritanism, that sixteenth- and seventeenth-century movement of reform and renewal. The genesis of Puritanism between the 1560s and the 1580s was deeply intertwined with questions of worship and polity. In fact, Puritanism, in its various ecclesial manifestations, was confident that there was a blueprint for polity and worship in the New Testament. As we will see, these concerns were bequeathed to their Baptist offspring.

‘Apostolic Primitive Purity’

Baptists began their existence in the first half of the seventeenth century — the General (Arminian) Baptists emerging in the 1610s and the Particular (Calvinistic) Baptists appearing some 25 years later — with a passion for going back to the apostolic model that they believed was taught in the Scriptures.

One of the major architects of the Particular Baptist cause, William Kiffen (1616–1701), explained in 1681 why he became a Baptist in the late 1630s/early 1640s:

[I] concluded that the safest way [for me spiritually] was to follow the footsteps of the flock (namely that order laid down by Christ and his Apostles, and practiced by the primitive Christians in their times) which I found to be that after conversion they were baptized, added to the church, and continued in the apostles’ doctrine, fellowship, breaking of bread, and prayer; according to which I thought myself bound to be conformable.1

In other words, Kiffen became a Baptist because he was convinced that believer’s baptism and congregational church governance were indisputably part of the blueprint of New Testament polity.

Ten years later, Hercules Collins (d. 1702), a key Baptist leader in London, made the exact same point in a polemical piece on baptism when he stated that his intent was “to display this sacrament in its Apostolic primitive purity, free from the adulterations of men.”2 In fact, he asserted, it would violate his conscience were he to baptize an infant.3

The Believer’s ‘Great Pattern’

Given the uniqueness of believer’s baptism on the ecclesial scene of Stuart England — of the various church groups, only the Baptists restricted baptism to believers — it is not surprising that they had to defend the biblical legitimacy of their position time and again in this era. One scholar reckons the number of tracts and treatises written on this subject during the seventeenth century to be more than a hundred.4

“In being baptized as believers, Christians are following the example of Christ, their ‘great pattern.’”

One of the most popular of these tracts was John Norcott’s (d. 1676) Baptism Discovered Plainly & Faithfully, According to the Word of God (1672). In the relatively small compass of 56 pages, Norcott’s tract sets forth the standard seventeenth-century Baptist positions on the proper subjects of baptism (believers), the correct mode (immersion), and the meaning of baptism (primarily identification with Christ in his death, burial, and resurrection).5 Among his arguments in favor of believer’s baptism is his emphasis that in being baptized as believers, Christians are following the example of Christ, their “great pattern.” 

Going Yard

Doug MacKenzie

“When we go into the prison, you’ll definitely feel some anxiety.”  The prophecy came from Bob, our manager for the doubleheader against the San Quentin inmate baseball team, when I’d first contacted him two months prior to joining his squad.

I knew he was right.  But I decided to get an early start and let the anxiety build as soon as I committed to play.

Two months is a long time to let my imagination work.  Much too long.

As expected, visions of being cornered in the yard after getting separated from the group worked their way into my head.  Of somehow ticking-off the wrong guy on the opposing team.  Of ending up on the wrong end of the shiv that the first baseman snuck into the game. 

One link bound them all—I returned home maimed or worse in each one.

I’d heard the warnings.  Once we hit the yard, we’d be subjected to a wave of trash talk and thrown expletives.  I didn’t even know the proper prison protocol for a visitor.  Smack talk back?  It might get me some respect.  Or it might lead directly to one of those visions.

But another part of me longed for the experience.  The part that doesn’t miss a prison exposé on cable.  The part that wants to hear that iron gate close behind me.  To feel the starkness of the yard.  To see if the walls really do close in.   To be in the world of some guy who chopped his best friend into 107 pieces and then buried him in 107 different places.

I wanted to experience that world—live it—for just for a little while.  And I love baseball.  What better way to accomplish it than combine the two?

My M.O. isn’t hard to predict.  I knew the anxiety would peak the night before the game.  It’d be hard to sleep.  Probably wouldn’t have any appetite in the morning. 

Then I got a lucky break. 

Justin, from my amateur team back home, had signed up to play as well. 

A few years transplanted from Australia, Justin’s a natural athlete.  He picked up baseball as easy as my dog picked up begging at the table.  It’s impossible to get a low-pitch by him.  Must be from all those years of cricket.

Far more important for this adventure, he’s about as easygoing a guy as you can find.  It’s tough to get him upset.  I’ve tried.  Everyone on my team has tried.

We chatted in the hotel about what the next day might bring and it turned out he’d visited a maximum-security prison in Australia for a college thesis.  The whole thing was no big deal.  I half-expected him to fall asleep in the hotel patio as he described it.

Perfect.  I was with a vet.  My nerves could relax.

That’s when he mentioned that they’d probably make us sign a “no negotiations” waiver in case we were taken hostage.

Hostage?  It turned out there was one scenario I’d neglected to worry about.  Still, I managed to remain calm.

Then I met Kent.

Kent wasn’t one of the prisoners—he was their coach.  That’s on the inside.  On the outside, Kent’s a pastor.  We met him in a weary parking lot outside the gates at 8:30 in the morning where he gave us a quick talk about what to expect.  Kent’s another easygoing guy—especially for someone about to walk us into a maximum-security prison. 

It’s what he said that got the nerves working again.

San Quentin’s the only prison in the United States that has a baseball team for its inmates.  In fact, the program is so popular it’s now home to two teams, the Giants and the Pirates.  Usually comprised of players from adult amateur leagues, outside teams (known as “The Willing”) routinely play a doubleheader at “the Q”—one game against the Giants and one against the Pirates.

Today we’d take on the San Quentin Giants in both games. 

The Pirates weren’t too happy about this. 

Kent said he wasn’t sure what to expect.  There’d been a lot of unrest at the prison lately.  Overcrowding at Corcoran and Pelican Bay had forced the state to send much of the hard-core overflow here.  New, young guys had arrived.  Lifers who had nothing to lose. 

Things weren’t the same.

Maybe Kent noticed the widened eyes because he told us not to worry.  Nothing would ever happen to a visitor—every prison program in the state would end in a flash. 

Kent finished with an admonition:  if any of the players from the other team approached us during the game wanting personal information, don’t give it to them. 

Approached us?  From the unhappy team?  I thought these were the guys that had nothing to lose.

My carefully administered self-hypnosis—two months in the making—of why I would survive this impending experience shattered.  I’d already convinced myself we’d be hermitically sealed with at least three fences and a wall of armed guards partitioning us from anyone that wasn’t in the game.

I looked at the veterans of our team—none of whom I’d ever met—to reassure myself, to see the calm look on their faces.  Once I saw that “look”—the one people have when they’ve heard the whole speech before and are bored stiff—I’d be fine.

Instead apprehensive stares filled the audience.  My eyes darted to Justin, my last hope.  Even he looked slightly concerned.  With Justin, that’s the equivalent of a panic attack.

The information processing in my head began to blur.  New, hard-core guys.  Nothing to lose.  Trouble.  Waivers if I’m taken hostage. 

Maybe my friends are right.  Maybe I am a masochist.  It’s a death wish or something.  Psychologists would have a field day with me. 

One of the new guys broke in, “Just how good a shot are the guards in the tower?”  At least someone else was thinking along the same lines as me.

We showed our I.D.s at an outer gate and made the long walk to the prison walls.  To our right sat a row of quaint administration buildings.  To our left, the rippling currents of the bay reached out forever as if no prison existed.  But I took little notice on the gorgeous Saturday morning.  Instead a question revolved in my head that my brain couldn’t solve… “If the new guys in here have nothing to lose, why would they care if the programs shut down because they did something to a visitor?”

If you’ve watched any prison documentaries on TV, you know what I expected.  I expected the gate to clank behind us and then to be surrounded by my new world, a bleak world of rusted metal and chipped paint, curses shouted at me by every person in view.  Undecipherable screams would evaporate into the bay breeze from wherever they kept the people that had gone nuts… or had completely given up hope. 

That’s what I expected for a prison built in 1852. 

My first view gave me exactly the opposite.

A neatly tended courtyard greeted us when we exited the Sallyport (the controlled area between two metal gates), complete with lawn and roses.  On the far end, a massive state-of-the-art medical facility dominated the other buildings in the area.

Heading toward the 5-story building, I felt faces peering from barred windows in the archaic building to our left.  That building, the kind I’d expected to see, turned out to be the Adjustment Center, a housing unit for the most dangerous inmates on Death Row.

After crossing the courtyard, a long asphalt driveway led us between the new complex now to our left and the ancient wall that separated us from the free world on the right.

The San Quentin yard opened up.

The field wasn’t hard to spot—it was the only grass area in an expanse of asphalt, walls and fences.  Like a grammar school playground at lunchtime, a flurry of activity surrounded the diamond and filled the yard.  Men jockeyed for position as a shot went up on the basketball court.  Tennis balls volleyed.  And countless guys in dark blue sweats or shorts with light blue shirts just hung around. 

But as opposed to my elementary school, a chain link fence didn’t surround this yard.  Razor wire saturated these surroundings, everywhere, blocking anything anyone could ever think of climbing, crawling or hopping over. 

A four-foot space between two chain link fences would serve as our dugout.  Inside the partition, it took me a few minutes to realize that the long metal thing that looked like a narrow table was actually our bench.

The home team took the field.  I’d expected them to be in prison garb, but they had full uniforms (courtesy of the major league team), with an orange “Giants” emblazoned across black jerseys.  Their roster would be a few short today; anybody residing in H-block was absent.  A few prisoners in that unit had contracted a virus.  As a result, the whole block locked-down, a precaution due to the speed an epidemic can spread in a closed-off prison.

Beyond the clover outfield, the warning track contoured around the ins and outs of the fences that bordered our field.  The difference between this field and any other where I’ve played quickly struck me.  The spectators were inside the fences.  Prisoners lined the edges of the field, some in cliques, some loners, while many others walked or jogged the “warning track” that looped the yard. 

A new concern surfaced, hidden in the back of my mind by the question as to whether I’d survive the visit.  Was I even good enough to play in this game?  I’m 50 and live for baseball.  Sundays are dedicated to amateur ball in the 35 and older division of the Los Angeles Baseball League.  In that league, most have played long enough to have success because of our fundamentals.  But the arms are starting to go (if they’re not gone already).  The bat slows down.  The reflexes.  Though I do well, I no longer face 20-year old hurlers—the pitchers that can bring it.

Right away I saw their starter brought a hot fastball.  Just what I didn’t need.

We’d bat “through,” a common practice in adult amateur baseball where everyone on a 12 to 14 man roster bats instead of a traditional nine-man line-up.  It gives everyone a shot to participate.  Free defensive substitution is also allowed as opposed to more formal baseball rules.

We pushed across an unearned run in the first, but the Giants countered with a pair in the bottom of the inning.  Defense was sloppy; maybe I wasn’t the only one who was feeling the nerves.

The pebbles that saturated the all-dirt infield didn’t build confidence fielding the ground balls hit to me at second.  Still, the prisoners had obviously worked hard to make the field the best possible.  Not easy to do because, as Kent said, tools equal potential weapons. 

By the time I first came to the plate in the second I was sure of one thing.  Stay off the high fastball.  Their pitcher had too much heat for me—I’d never get around on it.

Our games on Sunday don’t have big crowds.  A few of the guys’ wives show up with the kids.  Maybe someone’s girlfriend.  That’s about it.  I played at a small college, and the attendance there wasn’t any bigger.

In the yard, I was in front of the biggest crowd of my life.  The quintessential captive audience.  But no catcalls or trash talk filled the air as I expected.  It didn’t matter.  I still felt the pressure.  As any athlete will admit, you want to go in and show the guys—on both squads—that you can play, that you’re not some slug that tagged along and drags the team down.  That you’re not that kid we all remember in the Pee-wee leagues—the last one picked—the one that swung after the ball was in the catcher’s glove.  I didn’t want to be that kid. 

Not here.

I take a high fastball that catches the corner.  The home plate ump, Junkyard (who has by far the coolest name of any umpire I’ve ever taken the field with) calls strike one.  Another fastball—up.  I swing.  Late.  Down oh and two.

Stay off that pitch.  Poke something somewhere.  Whatever you do, don’t “K” to start this day off.  

Not here.

Fastball, low and away.  I take it.

Junkyard rings me up.  Three pitches.  This day couldn’t have started worse.  Back to the metal table-looking thing.

A 3D puzzle of dilapidated structures sits beyond left-center.  Archaic stairs lead up and down the sides of faded yellow walls then turn to mysterious passageways before disappearing into areas unknown.  But my eyes fix past the maze of buildings to the notorious housing unit, West Block that looms above them.  A plume of steam pours out from one of the puzzle pieces to obscure the view.  It’s like a Dickens novel that’s come to life.

The prisoners responsible for hanging the numbers on the “Field of Dreams” scoreboard in right don’t dally after each half inning.  And they don’t give the benefit of the doubt on errors—even for the home club—as the miscues total almost as much as the score.

After six, we’re deadlocked at five.  But Kent has a wedding to perform between games, so it’ll be a shortened contest.  No inning will start later than 12:30. 

It’s 12:20 now.  The seventh is it.

That doesn’t bode well for us.  The SQ starter threw well, but the Giants now have Stretch on the mound to close it out.  The tall and lanky righty is likely San Quentin’s most famous player because he’s so good.

Stretch doesn’t throw as hard as their starter, but he quickly shows why he’s earned the reputation as a stellar pitcher.  It’s not his wide array of pitches; it’s his great command of them.  You’re not going to get anything good.

A hit, a stolen base and an out manages to move our go ahead runner to third. 

It’s our last chance.  And guess who’s coming up for us… 

I’m oh for two at this point.  In baseball, ohfers are long forgotten if you knock in the winning run.  All game I’ve been eyeing the short porch in right like the lifer who’s spotted a hole in the wall.  There’s some sort of caged-off material yard that shortens the field there.  Any batted-ball that makes the top of the cage is a homer.  It can’t be more than a 280-foot poke.  Probably shorter.  In my Sunday league, I’ll pop one out about once every two seasons with a metal bat.  But this I can reach, even with the wood we’re using.

Stretch makes his only mistake all day—he leaves one out over the plate.  Slightly outside.  I couldn’t ask for a better pitch to go the other way. 

Excitement raced through my veins as I ran to first.  I didn’t think I’d hit it well enough to make the top of the cage, but it certainly would be off the fence.  I’d return home to tell everyone about my game winning shot at San Quentin.

That’s when I learned a new aspect of playing in the yard.  Baseballs don’t carry as well above the wall as they do below it. 

My liner had taken off like a rocket, but once it got above the level of the wall, it died in the bay breeze like it’d been shot by a guard while trying to escape.  Not only didn’t it make the fence, it didn’t even make the track with the walking prisoners.  I watched it die, futilely dropping to the right fielder who was playing shallow by necessity of the short field.  My “blast” succumbed so quickly I wasn’t even sure it’d score the guy on third.

But in his eagerness to nail our guy at home, the right fielder misplayed the ball.  The go-ahead scored.  As far as I was concerned—as far as the legend would go—I’d crushed the game-winning RBI sac fly off San Quentin’s star pitcher.  No official scorekeeper would contradict me later.

The Giants launched a furious rally in the bottom of the inning, but couldn’t score.  We’d taken Game One.  From ohfer to hero at San Quentin.

Wait…

The Giants wanted to continue.  They weren’t going to lose this game.  Not by one run.  Coach Kent could go marry the couple.  They’d go on without him.

Despite the fact that my game-hero status was likely doomed, I had a begrudging admiration for the Giants’ insistence to go on.  It was like when you were a kid and stalled when it was time to go in for dinner because you wanted to keep playing outside.

We couldn’t touch Stretch after that.  But we still thought we had it until we gave up one (almost two) in the bottom of the ninth.  A tie.  And my game-winning “shot” turned into kiss your sister.

We did the congratulation line, with hugs.  I wasn’t worried about shivs anymore.  Stretch led both teams in prayer.  They thanked us for coming to play.  I couldn’t remember receiving more genuine gratitude.

Despite the whispered rumors in the dugout during the game, “three quarters of them are in for murder,” I never bothered to find out what each guy was in for.  I didn’t really care.  On this day, they weren’t any different from us.  They were just guys out playing ball.

Our team packed up our gear and started back toward the driveway.  Lunch would be outside the prison.  I lagged a bit at the bench to undo my knee-brace.  The anxiety was long gone.

That’s when the prison alarm went off. 

Instantly every inmate dropped to a squat.   Except for the loud drone of the buzzer, there wasn’t a movement or sound in the yard.

I’d almost forgotten where I was.

I didn’t know what to do.  The team huddled 100 feet away.  I heard a voice from somewhere say not to worry about it.  I think it was directed to us, but I didn’t know what that meant.  Should I make a move to get back with my group?  If I bolted for them I’d be the only moving person in the yard.  Now wasn’t the time to find out how good a shot the guards in the towers really were.

After a few minutes, the buzzer stopped and I hustled to the group.  I would hear it three more times in the second game. 

We’d win that one going away—our pitcher brought his good stuff on a late Saturday afternoon.  It was already well past seven when we said our goodbyes in the parking lot.  I drove off, wondering what I’d ever been so anxious about.

As I hopped on the freeway, a small insignificant sign I’d seen posted on the fence behind first base reappeared in my head. “FEEDING PIGEONS WILL RESULT IN CDC #115 BEING ISSUED.”

I didn’t have a clue what a CDC #115 meant other than the prisoners obviously would want to avoid getting it.  In our outside world, that sign would have no meaning.  Instead it would read something like, “$100 fine for feeding pigeons.” 

Theirs was a world where they knew what that CDC code meant.  And what every other CDC code meant, complete with its potential consequences. 

A world where they knew what to do when the buzzer went off in the yard. 

I’d come to try to live their world for a few brief hours and then be able to run back home where I’d be safe.  But there really was only so much I could experience as a visitor.  I could feel the flavor, but not know what it was to live the life. 

Instead I was rewarded with an experience that I’d taken for granted the entire adventure.  I’d joined a bunch of guys, from both sides of the wall, and for a day shared the same game we both loved.

And I drove off, looking forward to playing them again next year.

Where did baptism originate?

History. The practice of baptism emerged from Jewish ritualistic practices during the Second Temple Period, out of which figures such as John the Baptist emerged. For example, various texts in the Dead Sea Scrolls (DSS) corpus at Qumran describe ritual practices involving washing, bathing, sprinkling, and immersing.

John the Baptist ( c. 1st century BC – c. AD 30) was a Jewish preacher active in the area of the Jordan River in the early 1st century AD.

Who created the baptist religion?

Both Roger Williams and John Clarke are variously credited as founding the earliest Baptist church in North America. In 1639 Williams established a Baptist church in Providence, Rhode Island, and Clarke began a Baptist church in Newport, Rhode Island.

Who started the Baptist church and why?

The Particular Baptists stemmed from a non-Separatist church that was established in 1616 by Henry Jacob at Southwark, across the Thames from London. In 1638 a number of its members withdrew under the leadership of John Spilsbury to form the first Particular Baptist Church.

Why is Baptist called Baptist?

The term “baptists” came from the fact that Baptists strongly believed that: Baptism is for believers only. (excluding infant baptism) Baptism must be by immersion, as opposed to sprinkling and effusion.

What do Baptists not do?

Baptists do not believe that a loving God condemns anyone for a sin they did not commit. Baptists do not view baptism as a remedy for original sin. Baptists do not baptize infants. Baptists practice baptism by totally immersing persons in water, rather than by sprinkling, pouring, or anointing persons with water.

What is the difference between Baptist and southern Baptist?

The word Southern in “Southern Baptist Convention” stems from its having been organized in 1845 in Augusta, Georgia, by white Baptists in the Southern United States who supported continuing the institution of slavery and split from the northern Baptists (known today as the American Baptist Churches USA), who did not …

Why are Baptists not protestants?

Protestants date from the sixteenth century. They are the Lutherans, the Reformed (i.e. Anglicans, Presbyterians, etc.) and others who were once Roman Catholics and left the Roman Catholic faith to start denominations of their own. The Baptists never left the Roman Catholic Church as did Luther, Calvin and Zwingli.

The Baptist Tradition

The first Baptist churches were formed by English-speakers in Holland (1609-1612). They believed, as did Martin Luther, that believers were capable of reading and interpreting the Bible on their own. The Baptists separated from the Church of England because they believed church membership should be voluntary and that only believers should be baptized. They rejected the parish structure of the Church of England where people were “born” into the church and baptized as infants. John Smyth led the first congregation; Thomas Helwys traveled back to England the founded the first Baptist church there in 1612. The first Baptist church in North America was established by Roger Williams in what today is Providence, Rhode Island; soon thereafter, John Clarke founded a Baptist church in Newport, R.I.

(Source: http://www.abc-usa.org/what_we_believe/our-history/)

Arrival of Baptists in the Ozarks

Baptists came to Southeast Missouri in the early 1800’s, establishing the Bethel Baptist Church (Cape Girardeau County) in 1806. Organized in 1838, the Mount Pleasant Baptist Church is the oldest Baptist congregation in Greene County. According to an 1883 History of Green County, Missouri, “For many years it was the only church in the neighborhood, and was attended by people from many miles around.” Founded in 1852, Springfield’s First Baptist Church gathered in homes and in Temperance Hall before completing a church building in 1882.

Rhode Island State Charter of 1663

Roger Williams and John Clarke together secured a charter from King Charles II in 1663 guaranteeing religious freedom in Rhode Island. The state government of Rhode Island became the first government in history to guarantee separation of church and state, and religious freedom.

Many American Baptists look to Roger Williams (c. 1603-1683) as the founder of the Baptist movement in the United States. A proponent of separation of church and state, he founded the colony of Providence Plantation in 1636.

What makes Baptists different from other Christians?

The primary difference between Baptists and other Christians is the practice of believers’ baptism. Only people who have professed their faith can be baptized, in contrast to infant baptism practiced by most other Christian faiths, and baptism must occur by full-body immersion in water.

What are the three main beliefs of the Baptists?

The unity and coherence of the Baptists is based on six distinguishing, although not necessarily distinctive, convictions they hold in common.

  • The supreme authority of the Bible in all matters of faith and practice. …
  • Believer’s baptism. …
  • Churches composed of believers only.

History

Initially Baptists were characterized theologically by strong to moderate Calvinism. The dominant continuing tradition in both England and the United States was Particular Baptist. By 1800 this older tradition was beginning to be replaced by evangelical doctrines fashioned by the leaders of the evangelical revival in England and the Great Awakening in the United States. By 1900 the older Calvinism had almost completely disappeared, and evangelicalism was dominant. The conciliatory tendency of evangelicalism and its almost complete preoccupation with “heart religion” and the experience of conversion largely denuded it of any solid theological structure, thereby opening the door to a new theological current that subsequently became known as modernism. Modernism, which was an attempt to adjust the Christian faith to the new intellectual climate, made large inroads among the Baptists of England and the United States during the early years of the 20th century, and Baptists provided many outstanding leaders of the movement, including Shailer Mathews and Harry Emerson Fosdick. Many people regarded these views as a threat to the uniqueness of the Christian revelation, and the counterreaction that was precipitated became known as fundamentalism (a movement emphasizing biblical literalism).

As a result of the controversy that followed, many Baptists developed a distaste for theology and became content to find their unity as Baptists in promoting denominational enterprises. By 1950, outside the South, both modernists and fundamentalists were becoming disenchanted with their positions in the controversy, and it was from among adherents of both camps that a more creative theological encounter began to take place. While the majority of Baptists remained nontheological in their interests and concerns, there were many signs that Baptist leadership was increasingly recognizing the necessity for renewed theological inquiry.

Contents

The unity and coherence of the Baptists is based on six distinguishing, although not necessarily distinctive, convictions they hold in common.

1. The supreme authority of the Bible in all matters of faith and practice. Baptists are a non-creedal people, and their ultimate appeal always has been to the Scriptures rather than to any confession of faith that they may have published from time to time to make known their commonly accepted views.

2. Believer’s baptism. This is the most conspicuous conviction of Baptists. They hold that if baptism is the badge or mark of a Christian, and if a Christian is a believer in whom faith has been awakened, then baptism rightly administered must be a baptism of believers only. Furthermore, if the Christian life is a sharing in the life, death, and resurrection of Christ, if it involves a dying to the old life and a rising in newness of life, then the act of baptism must reflect these terms. The sign must be consonant with that which it signifies. It is for this latter reason that Baptists were led to insist upon immersion as the apostolic form of the rite.

3. Churches composed of believers only. Baptists reject the idea of a territorial or parish church and insist that a church is composed only of those who have been gathered by Christ and who have placed their trust in him. Thus the membership of a church is restricted to those who—in terms of a charitable judgment—give clear evidence of their Christian faith and experience.

4. Equality of all Christians in the life of the church. By the doctrine of the priesthood of all believers Baptists not only understand that the individual Christian may serve as a minister to other members but also that each church member has equal rights and privileges in determining the affairs of the church. Pastors have special responsibilities, derived from the consent of the church, which only they can discharge, but they have no unique priestly status.

5. Independence of the local church. By this principle Baptists affirm that a properly constituted congregation is fully equipped to minister Christ and need not derive its authority from any source, other than Christ, outside its own life. Baptists, however, have not generally understood that a local church is autonomous in the sense that it is isolated and detached from other churches. As individual Christians are bound to pray for one another and to maintain communion with one another, so particular churches are under similar obligation. Thus, the individual churches testify to their unity in Christ by forming associations and conventions.

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6. Separation of church and state. From the time of Smyth, Baptists have insisted that a church must be free to be Christ’s church, determining its own life and charting its own course in obedience to Christ without outside interference. Thus Smyth asserted that the

Magistrate is not by virtue of his office to meddle with religion or matters of conscience, to force and compel men to this or that form of religion or doctrine, but to leave Christian religion free to every man’s conscience.

Baptists were in the forefront of the struggle for religious freedom in both England and the United States. They cherished the liberty established in early Rhode Island, and they played an important role in securing the adoption of the “no religious test” clause in the U.S. Constitution and the guarantees embodied in the First Amendment.

Few Baptists have been willing to become so sectarian as to deny the Christian name to other denominations. With the exception of the Southern Baptists, most Baptists cooperate fully in interdenominational and ecumenical bodies, including the World Council of Churches.

Worship and organization

Baptist worship is hardly distinguishable from the worship of the older Puritan denominations (Presbyterians and Congregationalists) of England and the United States. It centres largely on the exposition of the Scriptures in a sermon and emphasizes extemporaneous, rather than set, prayers. Hymn singing also is one of the characteristic features of worship. Communion, received in the pews, is customarily a monthly observance.

Baptists insist that the fundamental authority, under Christ, is vested in the local congregation of believers, which admits and excludes members, calls and ordains pastors, and orders its common life in accord with what it understands to be the mind of Christ. These congregations are linked together in cooperative bodies—regional associations, state conventions, and national conventions—to which they send their delegates or messengers. The larger bodies, it is insisted, have no control or authority over a local church; they exist only to implement the common concerns of the local churches.

The pattern of organization of the local church has undergone change since the 20th century. Traditionally, the pastor was the leader and moderator of the congregation, but there has been a tendency to regard the pastor as an employed agent of the congregation and to elect a lay member to serve as moderator at corporate meetings of the church. Traditionally, the deacons’ functions were to assist the pastor and to serve as agents to execute the will of the congregation in matters both temporal and spiritual; there has been a tendency, however, to multiply the number of church officers by the creation of boards of trustees, boards of education, boards of missions, and boards of evangelism. Traditionally, decisions were made by the congregation in a church meeting, but there has been a tendency to delegate decision making to various boards. The relationship of local churches to the cooperative bodies has undergone similar change, which has occasioned ongoing discussion among all Baptist groups.

Epilogue

Yesterday Captain XX emailed me asking for the baseball equipment back. In the same email I was informed that he and Lt. XXX were taking charge of the program. He also wanted the schedule and the contact info. I emailed back I would bring the equipment to the East Gate in a few days and that another coach had the schedule and the contact info and provided a way to contact that coach.

            The Captain–the once and present public affairs officer, for the prison–championed the A’s in 2010 and 2011. In a way he was turned by two ball players. These two clever cons convinced him that the A’s, the underdogs, deserved more, they deserved first class status. Indeed they sold Sam that the A’s were a better team and needed to replace the Giants. The Captain, an A’s fan, did what he could to make the A’s on a par, at least, with the Giants. A number of times I would hear, “Well, the Captain is on our side.”

            My wife Katie formulated a theory last year, 2011, that the prison would like to take the baseball program away from me. Now that the cameras and media folks were showing more and more interest, they wanted the glory–or so Katie said. I never agreed but thought that might, just might be possible. But the Captain always came across as such a gentleman.

            Perhaps this conspiracy type theory explains why I was treated as I was. Accused without an opportunity to hear the accusations much less defend myself; verbally abused by ZZZ without a single chance to say a word in reply. Then on not so much as a whim I get barred for life.

            DeNevi, my supervisor for twelve years, without whose support and encouragement I would have left SQ years ago–even he suddenly throws me under the bus, and not one phone call and Don usually called several times a week, and has from the beginning. Am I developing a paranoid frame of mind? Maybe. 

Baptists go back to John the Baptist and Before

Here not a means of conversion or salvation, but was a confessing of sin and preparation for the coming of the Messiah.

Prior to the days of Jesus, Jewish people baptized themselves while confessing their sin, and seeking cleansing from their sins.

Jesus said to be baptized––Matthew 28:19:

“Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.”

Continued in the early church

Acts 2:36-41 Acts 2:37–41

[37] Now when they heard this they were cut to the heart, and said to Peter and the rest of the apostles, “Brothers, what shall we do?” [38] And Peter said to them, “Repent and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins, and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. [39] For the promise is for you and for your children and for all who are far off, everyone whom the Lord our God calls to himself.” [40] And with many other words he bore witness and continued to exhort them, saying, “Save yourselves from this crooked generation.” [41] So those who received his word were baptized, and there were added that day about three thousand souls.

Acts 8:9-13            Simon the Magician Believes

[9] But there was a man named Simon, who had previously practiced magic in the city and amazed the people of Samaria, saying that he himself was somebody great. [10] They all paid attention to him, from the least to the greatest, saying, “This man is the power of God that is called Great.” [11] And they paid attention to him because for a long time he had amazed them with his magic. [12] But when they believed Philip as he preached good news about the kingdom of God and the name of Jesus Christ, they were baptized, both men and women. [13] Even Simon himself believed, and after being baptized he continued with Philip. And seeing signs and great miracles performed, he was amazed.

Acts 9:10-19 Paul is converted then baptized

[10] Now there was a disciple at Damascus named Ananias. The Lord said to him in a vision, “Ananias.” And he said, “Here I am, Lord.” [11] And the Lord said to him, “Rise and go to the street called Straight, and at the house of Judas look for a man of Tarsus named Saul, for behold, he is praying, [12] and he has seen in a vision a man named Ananias come in and lay his hands on him so that he might regain his sight.” [13] But Ananias answered, “Lord, I have heard from many about this man, how much evil he has done to your saints at Jerusalem. [14] And here he has authority from the chief priests to bind all who call on your name.” [15] But the Lord said to him, “Go, for he is a chosen instrument of mine to carry my name before the Gentiles and kings and the children of Israel. [16] For I will show him how much he must suffer for the sake of my name.” [17] So Ananias departed and entered the house. And laying his hands on him he said, “Brother Saul, the Lord Jesus who appeared to you on the road by which you came has sent me so that you may regain your sight and be filled with the Holy Spirit.” [18] And immediately something like scales fell from his eyes, and he regained his sight. Then he rose and was baptized; [19] and taking food, he was strengthened.

Baptism, not a saving event, but a sign of the new birth or conversion

Later things changed – magically

In the fifth and sixth centuries a doctrine arose that everyone, at conception, inherited the sin of Adam, and that baptism, sprinkling the new born on the 8th day, removed that original sin. Then, the sin that followed one in life, was “magically” removed by the priests of the church following confession of sin. And so it continues in the Roman Catholic Church. Forgiveness comes by means, and magically, of the ministrations of the Church.

Wikipedia

Baptists form a major branch of evangelical Protestantism distinguished by baptizing only professing Christian believers (believer’s baptism) and doing so by complete immersion. Baptist churches generally subscribe to the responsibility and accountability of every person before God), sola fide (salvation by just faith alone), sola scriptura (the scripture of the Bible alone, as the rule of faith and practice) and congregationalist church government. Baptists generally recognize two ordinances: baptism and communion.

Diverse from their beginning, those identifying as Baptists today may differ widely from one another in what they believe, how they worship, their attitudes toward other Christians, and their understanding of what is important in Christian discipleship. Baptist missionaries have spread various Baptist confessions to every continent. The largest group of Baptist churches is the Baptist World Alliance, and there are many different groupings of Baptist churches and Baptist congregations.

Historians trace the earliest Baptist church to 1609 in Amsterdam, with English Separatist John Smyth as its pastor. In accordance with his reading of the New Testament, he rejected baptism of infants and instituted baptism only of believing adults. Baptist practice spread to England, where the General Baptists considered Christ’s atonement to extend to all people, while the Particular Baptists believed that it extended only to the electThomas Helwys formulated a distinctively Baptist request that the church and the state be kept separate in matters of law, so that individuals might have freedom of religion. Helwys died in prison as a consequence of the religious conflict with English Dissenters under James I.

Baptist historian Bruce Gourley outlines four main views of Baptist origins:

  1. the modern scholarly consensus that the movement traces its origin to the 17th century via the English Separatists,
  2. the view that it was an outgrowth of the Anabaptist movement of believer’s baptism begun in 1525 on the European continent,
  3. the perpetuity view which assumes that the Baptist faith and practice has existed since the time of Christ, and
  4. the successionist view, or “Baptist successionism“, which argues that Baptist churches actually existed in an unbroken chain since the time of Christ.
  5. English separatist view[edit]
  • John Smyth led the first Baptist church in Amsterdam in 1609.
  • Modern Baptist churches trace their history to the English Separatist movement in the 17th century, after the rise of the Protestant Reformation.[5] This view of Baptist origins has the most historical support and is the most widely accepted.[6] Adherents to this position consider the influence of Anabaptists upon early Baptists to be minimal.[3] It was a time of considerable political and religious turmoil. Both individuals and churches were willing to give up their theological roots if they became convinced that a more biblical “truth” had been discovered.[7]
  • During the Reformation, the Church of England (Anglicans) separated from the Roman Catholic Church. There were some Christians who were not content with the achievements of the mainstream Protestant Reformation.[1][8] There also were Christians who were disappointed that the Church of England had not made corrections of what some considered to be errors and abuses. Of those most critical of the church’s direction, some chose to stay and try to make constructive changes from within the Anglican Church. They became known as “Puritans” and are described by Gourley as cousins of the English Separatists. Others decided they must leave the church because of their dissatisfaction and became known as the Separatists.[3]

 What exactly do Baptists believe?

Baptists believe that faith is a matter between God and the individual (religious freedom). To them it means the advocacy of absolute liberty of conscience. Insistence on immersion believer’s baptism as the only mode of baptism. Baptists do not believe that baptism is necessary for salvation.

How are Baptists different from Christians?

The primary difference between Baptists and other Christians is the practice of believers’ baptism. Only people who have professed their faith can be baptized, in contrast to infant baptism practiced by most other Christian faiths, and baptism must occur by full-body immersion in water.

What were the Baptists known for?

Baptist, member of a group of Protestant Christians who share the basic beliefs of most Protestants but who insist that only believers should be baptized and that it should be done by immersion rather than by the sprinkling or pouring of water.

Who do Baptists believe Jesus is?

Jesus is Lord

Baptists believe that Jesus Christ, being eternally God, only begotten Son and the visible expression of the invisible God, effectively procured salvation for all creation through his death, burial and resurrection. He is the one assigned by God the Father to rule with authority over all of creation.

Do Baptists believe in the Virgin Mary?

For Baptists, Mary is a person like any person, called to a unique role in God’s plan of salvation, given a choice, and making the right choice by God’s grace in spite of her human imperfections.

What do Baptists reject?

Baptists fundamentally rejected any policy that afforded the state the “divine” authority to compel or even guide people in matters of religion.

What is the difference between Baptist and Southern Baptist?

The word Southern in “Southern Baptist Convention” stems from its having been organized in 1845 in Augusta, Georgia, by white Baptists in the Southern United States who supported continuing the institution of slavery and split from the northern Baptists (known today as the American Baptist Churches USA), who did not …

What religion did Baptists come from?

The two major explanations today link modern-day Baptists to the continental Anabaptists of the Reformation era or the Puritan renewal movement within the Church of England.Feb 13, 2023

Who founded the Baptist Church?

Roger Williams

Many American Baptists looks to Roger Williams (c. 1603-1683) as the founder of the Baptist movement in the United States. A proponent of separation of church and state, he founded the colony of Providence Plantation in 1636.

What do Baptist do at church?

Baptist worship is hardly distinguishable from the worship of the older Puritan denominations (Presbyterians and Congregationalists) of England and the United States. It centres largely on the exposition of the Scriptures in a sermon and emphasizes extemporaneous, rather than set, prayers.

What is the difference between Catholics and Baptists?

Catholics believe in the authority of the Pope, the sacraments as channels of divine grace, and the intercession of saints. Baptists strongly emphasize believer’s baptism, where individuals are baptized only after a personal commitment to Jesus Christ.

Are Baptists considered Catholic?

Traditional Baptist historians write from the perspective that Baptists had existed since the time of Christ. Proponents of the Baptist successionist or perpetuity view consider the Baptist movement to have existed independently from Roman Catholicism and prior to the Protestant Reformation.

What is unique to Baptist?

The primary difference between Baptists and other Christians is the practice of believers’ baptism. Only people who have professed their faith can be baptized, in contrast to infant baptism practiced by most other Christian faiths, and baptism must occur by full-body immersion in water.

What are basic Baptist beliefs?

The Baptist Church emphasizes the importance of a personal relationship with God through Jesus Christ. They believe that individuals can connect with God through prayer, worship, and study of the Bible. This relationship is seen as a source of strength and guidance in daily life.

What are the 4 major Baptist denominations?

Though dozens and dozens of Baptist denominations exist, over 90% of Baptists belong to just five groups: the Southern Baptist Convention, the National Baptist Convention USA, the National Baptist Convention of America, American Baptist Churches USA, and the Baptist Bible Fellowship International.

What is the most popular Baptist denomination?

Southern Baptists are the largest evangelical Protestant group in the United States. Descended from Baptists who settled in the American colonies in the 17th century, Southern Baptists formed their own denomination in 1845, following a rift with their northern counterparts over slavery.

What religion is the same as Baptist?

Baptists are members of a Protestant Christian denomination, united by a specific set of religious beliefs. Baptists originated with a 16th-century denomination known as the Anabaptists, and have since grown into a religious denomination with millions of members worldwide.

What are the two types of Baptist?

Some doctrinal issues on which there is widespread difference among Baptists are: Eschatology. Arminianism versus Calvinism (General Baptists uphold Arminian theology while Particular Baptists teach Calvinist theology).

What percentage of America is Baptist?

15.3%

Approximately 15.3% of Americans identify as Baptist, making Baptists the second-largest religious group in the United States, after Roman Catholics.

Which religion is declining the fastest?

According to the same study Christianity is expected to lose a net of 66 million adherents (40 million converts versus 106 million apostate) mostly to religiously unaffiliated category between 2010 and 2050, it is also expected that Christianity may have the largest net losses in terms of religious conversion.

Why are churches removing Baptist from their name?

There is a growing trend among Baptists, and that is to abandon the historic doctrines that Baptists have stood for down through the ages. Some of them are manifesting that desire, by dropping the name Baptist from their Church name. Others continue to use the name Baptist, but have retreated from Baptist doctrine.

Appendix A

Here is an account of a game played at San Quentin between the Pirates, now Giants, and the Oaks/Cubs, the very same team led by Elliot Smith that opened the 2010 season. My old and dear friend Bill Mauck and his son Michael were present and played in the game. Here is Bill’s story of that game.

We Had a Great Time

by Bill Mauck

            Thursday, March 13, 1998, was a cold, cloudy day at San Quentin penitentiary.  As my nineteen-year-old son, Michael, and I approached the front gate, I could feel a light drizzle against my face.  We were greeted by a guard.  He checked our names off the manifest, wanded us down and checked our gear.  We walked about 200 yards to the main prison walls, where another guard repeated the same process.  We were then directed through a series of electronically controlled steel doors.  As the last door slammed behind us, we emerged into a vast courtyard.  The mood became dark, almost surreal.  To our right were some gray buildings.  One of the buildings had the words “Attitude Adjustment” Center etched on the wall.  Instinctively I knew we did not want to go there.  To my right were some men in bright orange jumpsuits.  I later learned these men were HIV positive. 

            At the far end of the courtyard was a baseball diamond.  As I walked out onto the infield, I could smell the fresh cut grass.  I felt my cleats dig into the soft turf.  It felt good!  It had been a while.  My high school friend, Kent Philpott, is a minister in Mill Valley, and he coaches the San Quentin Pirates baseball team.

            As it turns out, the Pirates were scheduled to play the San Francisco Oaks Semi-pro baseball team this day, and the Oaks were going to be short a couple of players.  Kent invited Mike and me to come down for a visit and play in this game.

            While Mike and I were warming up with the other players along the right field line, the Oaks coach observed us and made some quick decisions.  It was determined that Mike would lead off and play second base.  I would bat ninth and be dispatched to right field.  Right field is unique at San Quentin.  There is only about two feet of grass in foul territory along the right field foul line.  It then becomes a concrete slab.  Right field is short, only about 290 feet to the warning track.  Normally the warning track is dirt.  Outfielders can feel their cleats dig into the dirt when they come off the grass and this lets them know they are about ten feet from the fence.  At San Quentin the warning track is asphalt.  After the warning track the surface becomes concrete.  There is no fence; instead, there are benches and tables.  This is special, as it makes it possible for the inmates to sit, enjoy the game and make helpful suggestions to the opposing team’s right fielder.

            In right center field is the Indian Nation.  The Indians have some tepees, sweat-houses, drums and there are fires burning.  The nation is protected by a forty-foot-tall portable handmade screen made of woven cloth and called the White Monster.  The Native Americans’ religion says that you can sweat your sins away.

            So here I am, a fifty-eight-year-old man taking my position in right field.  Off my right shoulder, I can hear the tom-toms.  Thump thump, thump thump, thump thump.  My nostrils fill with smoke.  My eyes are burning.  Off my left shoulder, I can hear the constant chatter of the prisoners.  “Hey, Col. Sanders, Mon!  How ‘bout some chicken wings and cerveza for the homeboys in right field.”  “Hey, Mon!  Pops don’t have no beer, just look at him.  He drank it all up already.”  Haaaaaaa, I started thinking to myself.  Self you are a first baseman.  What the hell are you doing in right field?!  Then I thought maybe I’ll get lucky, and nothing will get hit out here.  Baseball has an old and true axiom.  It states that the ball will find you.  It didn’t take long.  In the first inning the Pirates hit three hard ground balls in my direction.  I was able to get in front of the ball and hit the cutoff man.  Everything was all good until this big left-handed hitter came up and hit a high fly ball to straightaway right field.  I raced back.  I felt my cleats dig into the asphalt and then clank on the concrete.  I looked down.  The inmates scattered.  I weaved my way through the benches, but when I looked back up, I had lost the flight of the ball.  The ball landed on a table and caromed off a bench.  Buy the time I retrieved the ball the runner had rounded third base and was on his way home.  Things did not get better.  Next, they started hitting balls over on to the concrete in foul territory.  Cleats have a tendency to slip and slide on concrete.  I didn’t catch any of them.  I walked and struck out.  I began to think that I had swerved into the twilight zone of baseball.

            My son, Mike, did much better.  He struck the ball hard and made some good plays in the field.  When Mike steps into the batter’s box he assumes an open stance, with his feet set about three feet apart.  As he stands in, he likes to move his hips from side to side.  This drew some interesting comments from some of the more progressive inmates.  The San Quentin Pirates had a good team; they beat the Oaks eight to two.  After the game the mood was jovial, we shook hands and exchanged pleasantries.  Had this game been played anywhere else, I would not have guessed that these men were convicts.

            We returned to my friend’s home.  We sat in Kent’s arbor and enjoyed a cold bottle of beer.  I began to lament about some of my play.  Kent philosophized that baseball would keep me humble.  Mike spoke up and said, “Chill, Dad!  You gave it your best shot.  I had a great time.”   I looked at my son and realized that this was one of those defining moments.  We had played this game not as father and son, but as just two players.  It was a day that each of us would remember.  I looked at him and replied, “You are right, Mike.  I had a great time too.” 

Here is something unusual, a listing of all the Baptists in the world today. Little long I know. Kent

Baptist Denominations in America

Alliance of Baptists

American Baptist Association

American Baptist Churches USA

Baptist Bible Fellowship International

Baptist General Convention of Texas

Baptist Missionary Association of America

Canadian Baptists of Atlantic Canada

Converge

Cooperative Baptist Fellowship

Foundations Baptist Fellowship International

General Association of Regular Baptist Churches (GARBC)

National Association of Free Will Baptists

National Baptist Convention/USA Inc.

National Baptist Convention of America Inc., International

National Missionary Baptist Convention of America

North American Baptist Conference

Pentecostal Free Will Baptists

Primitive Baptists

Seventh Day Baptists

Southern Baptist Convention

Venture Church Network

Baptist General Association of Virginia

How many Baptist denominations are there in the world?

While just five Baptist denominations are home to over 90% of Baptists, there are over 65 different denominations. The autonomy of local churches and the fact that there are so many Baptists mean there may be even more specific denominations.

This list of Baptist denominations is a list of subdivisions of Baptists, with their various Baptist associations, conferences, conventions, fellowships, groups, and unions around the world. Unless otherwise noted, information comes from the World Baptist Alliance[1]

Africa[edit]

Central Africa[edit]

Southern Africa[edit]

West Africa[edit]

East Africa[edit]

Asia and Oceania[edit]

Regional bodies[edit]

East Asia[edit]

Bangladesh[edit]

India[edit]

Main article: List of Baptist denominations in India

Southeast Asia[edit]

Philippines[edit]

Oceania[edit]

The Caribbean[edit]

Barbados[edit]

Cuba[edit]

Haiti[edit]

Jamaica[edit]

Other[edit]

St. Vincent and the Grenadines[edit]

Europe and Eurasia[edit]

Regional bodies[edit]

Eurasia

Continental Europe[edit]

Eurasia[edit]

United Kingdom[edit]

Middle East[edit]

North America[edit]

Canada[edit]

Mexico[edit]

United States[edit]

National bodies[edit]

State and interstate bodies[edit]

Central and South America[edit]

Central America[edit]

South America[edit]

Brazil[edit]

Other[edit]

Global[edit]

A Final Word

Coming out soon will be Kent’s book titled:

Outside-Inside-Outside: Escaping from Prison.

It will be available at Amazon.com.

In it will pieces written by convicts still in prison, some by those who are now on the outside, plus a piece from a correctional officer at San Quentin Prison, and much more.

Also, hope you don’t mind this sort of salesmanship, but the 2011-2012 Baseball Season at San Quentin is ready for publication, Katie having sent me the finished work this very morning. How long until it can be bought, not sure, but I will let you know.

Okay, not the last, I discovered several more pieces. Yes, not the brightest bulb on the tree.

Kent

#9

Last, the story of my conversion.

      My wife Bobbie started going to church when she was fifteen years old. We married when she was eighteen, and since I was unable to survive financially, I joined the military, the Air Force. After boot camp and training as a medic at Lackland Air Force Base in San Antonio, Texas, I was stationed at Travis Air Force Base near Fairfield, California. We got a little apartment in Suisun City and after a while, Bobbie started attending First Baptist Church of Fairfield, Bob Lewis from Arkansas, was the pastor.

      I was not a Christian though my dad took the three Philpott boys to church in Portland, Oregon. As soon as I could, I refused to attend, and the same for my two younger brothers. Now I was faced with pleasing my wife or not. To do so, I would occasionally, about once a month, attend Sunday services. One of those Sunday’s, at the typical Baptist invitation to receive Christ, I walked forward, likely to please my wife than anything else. Staff Sargent Al Becker came to me, and he had me pray the “Sinner’s Prayer.” In a moment I was converted! Or was I?

      Of course, I would have to be baptized. Usually this would be done within a week or two, but a new, and much larger building was being built, and Pastor Bob decided to wait until the new structure was build and then a baptism would take place there.

      About six months went by, and finally the building was complete and there would be a baptism. Too late for me to resist, so I went along with it. I knew I was not “saved,” but for my wife, I had to play the part.

      The day came and there I was in line with about 20 other guys, mostly Air Force guys. I would be one of the last to be dunked, and I can still picture myself waiting in line.

      I was close enough to see Pastor Bob putting the guys under the water. Only two ahead of me now. And at that moment, something happened. All of a sudden, I was converted, yes, born again, and I knew it. In a few minutes I was in the water, Pastor Bob said something, I said, “Yes” and down I went.

      Talk about a radical change! Indeed, it was for me. My life would never be the same.

Final Note:

The first eight stories here all took place during the Jesus People Movement, which were rather typical of a time when the Holy Spirit was poured out in power and there were lots of miracles, undeniable miracles. During what is often called, “Ordinary Times” such events are rare at best. My conversion came during these times, yet it was utterly amazing.

Back In: Six Years Later

Tomorrow, Saturday, May 26, 2018, I go back into the prison. To catch up a little, I will relate part of the history from June of 2012 until now.

            For the first four years, 1997 to 2000, Dan Jones and I managed the San Quentin Pirates/Giants. Dan had to leave due to medical issues. I continued alone for a number of years with a couple of guys I brought in to lighten the load. Then about 2009 several baseball guys came in to serve as real coaches. Chief of these is Kevin Laughlin, who I met when our two teams (the Tamalpais Hawks frosh team and Kevin’s frosh team, the San Rafael Bulldogs) played each other at Albert’s Park in San Rafael, 2005. (This is the field where the Pacifics now play.)

            Besides Kevin, there were several other coaches. One of these showed up occasionally, mostly Saturday mornings; he would arrive late and leave early. His main focus was criticizing the operation. After I left, for 2012, Kevin managed the team up until he was also forced to leave.

            Son Vernon was also kicked out a few months later. Vern had taken over the Blues Brothers, an 8-man flag football team I had begun some years earlier. Being a Philpott he had to go.

            Then one of the other coaches, a real baseball guy, solid coach, faithful, had a home invasion take place and was shot but survived. It was a message sent from the **********. He concealed all this from the prison officials and came back in the next season, I think 2014. Parcels would arrive at his house with instructions to take the baseball equipment—baseball gloves mostly—into the prison in his equipment bag. All he had to do was, whenever the A’s played or practiced, leave the bag in the A’s dugout on the first base line. Simple as that.

            Finding that you could stuff about 1000 plus meth tablets into a hollowed-out catcher’s mitt, he called son Vernon on the phone. Vern visited this man’s new residence and took photos of the contraband.  This was the last straw, and this coach never went back in, destroyed the dope, and hoped he would not be attacked again.

            Back now to the coach who loved to criticize me—in 2013 or 2014—he took over managing the team, except with a difference. He merely acted as a sponsor, bringing outside teams in but leaving the running of practices and games to the convicts. Mistake. This of course worked for the ********** as they could continue, in various ingenious ways, to get drugs and cell phones into the prison. And one particular gang did this, what we call “The White Boys.”

            Yes, there are gangs in San Quentin, but all under cover, well mostly. If someone is identified as a gang member, they are shipped out to a higher security level prison like Corcoran, High Desert, or Pelican Bay among others. SQ is a level 2 prison and due to things like the age of the structures, it does not make for the kind of security necessary.

            Nevertheless, controlling drugs is power, and the cell phones allow gangs to do all kinds of wonderful things. I could go on and describe what power means in a prison, but it does not seem like something I want to do right now.

            This baby-sitting coach (Do I sound angry?) ran the program down. Every year attempts were made to get me back in. A number of the inmates, the head of the athletic program, and one other person whom I will not name eventually succeeded in bringing me back in. Somehow this one person was able to convince the Internal Security Unit (ISU)to allow it.

            For two or more years I would get a call from the ISU and talk to a sergeant or lieutenant who would say something like, “Look Philpott, I have your file in front of me and if we were to let you back in and something happened to you, the State of California would be on the hook.” My response was always, “I understand.”

            Tomorrow I will park in the lot below the visitor’s center, I plan to get there about 8:20am, wait for a beige card holder, one of the present coaches, and get through the East Gate, make the long walk to the Count Gate, sign in, and walk into the prison past the Catholic, Protestant, Jewish, Muslim, American Indian, and others now, chapels, turn right at the hospital building, head right down cardiac hill and into the lower year. On the right will be a giant wall with the gun towers situated along and the inmates will spot me. On the left is an old iron door, fenced off now, where the old morgue was. When I get down past the “ Out of bounds” sign painted on the tarmac, and the  cons spot me, who knows what might happen. But I suspect there will be some who will recognize the old coach and come up to meet me. We’ll see. For sure though I will see guys I was close to, and sometimes for years. It will be quite emotional for me.

            Let me state why I am going back in. First, I spent 32 years as a volunteer at San Quentin, 16 of those years as the baseball coach. I was removed because of a gang’s need to bring in drugs and cell phones. There was not a goodbye, no thanks, no nothing. I want to go out on my own terms, not due to death threats, finish with my own resignation, after some years. I am seventy-six years old and I think I still have some good years left. And frankly, coaching at the prison is a whole lot easier than doing high school baseball.

            Second reason for going back in is that I want to start a second team, The Pirates. The Pirates, the name of the original team, third generation of baseball at San Quentin, that Chaplin Earl Smith began in 1995. The Pirates became the Giants in 1999 when the San Francisco Giants donated uniforms and equipment to us. Chaplain Smith was the Giants chaplain, the first African American to be a chaplain in the state’s prison system, and he made it work. Earl is, by the way, still the chaplain for the San Francisco 49ers and the Golden State Warriors. Side note: one of his sons, Franklin I see from time to time as he is the head coach for the San Rafael Bulldogs Junior Varsity baseball team. Franklin, and his brother Earl Jr., I watched grow up while they lived on the grounds of the prison.

            One story I will tell about Earl Jr. About the year 2007 I pulled up to get gas at the Chevron Station on Miller Avenue in Mill Valley. The guy pumping gas in front of me was Earl. We shook hands and I asked him, and I am not sure why I did this, but I asked him if he knew how I get ahold of a pair of cleats for a guy with a sized 14 shoe. Earl did not say a word, but opened the trunk of his car, reached in, grabbed a pair of brand-new cleats, sized 14, and handed them to me. Typical of the Smith family.

            Okay another story. At a high school game, at home, and playing the San Rafael Bulldogs, I was standing against the rail at our third base dugout. The game was about to begin and here came the oppositions coach to take his place at the third base coach’s box. A big Black man, full beard and all, and he was looking directly, and hard, at me. In a moment he yells out, “Philpott.” It was Franklin Smith, Earl’s brother and son of Earl Smith. The baseball world in Marin County is a small one.

            Tomorrow I am going to try to let the guys know of my intention. The baby-sitting coach refused to allow a second team, too much trouble. And he would be right, but I did it for years and want to do it again.

            Either there will be another team or there will be another paragraph below saying my plan did not work.

            Can’t help it, I have to let you know how the visit went. It was a huge success. I was overwhelmed by the response from the guys, many I knew, many I did not know. As I feed this into the computer, I am still having a stunned feeling. The short of it is, they want me back and as soon as possible. The program has been a mess since I left according to several dozen inmates, and not only the baseball program but the football program as well.

            Of course, I do not believe everything that was said to me, but I had four rather long and serious conversations with former players I trust and I am convinced I heard right. My most trusted informant told me that scores of young offenders, ages 18 to 24, are coming into San Quentin, mostly on drug charges, and I was told there will be 50 plus guys wanting to play for the Pirates. Looks like the ‘Skull and Cross Bones’ will fly again.