PAEDOFAITH
A Primer on the Mystery of Infant Salvation
By Rich Lusk
August, 2004
In Psalm 22:9-10, David asserts that he had faith as an infant. He sees continuity between the faith he possesses now as an adult and the faith he had as a child, even in the womb. He explains that he had a God-ward orientation from his earliest days. In recounting his formative experiences, David never points to a “conversion experience,” but always traces back his Spiritual life to the very beginnings of his physical life.
Those who think that infant faith is impossible pose several alternative readings of the passage. Perhaps, they say, this portion of the Psalm is Christological, not Davidic. They will point to other explicitly messianic portions of the Psalm (22:1, 22:14ff). But this is based on a flawed hermeneutic. The entire Psalm – indeed, the entire the Psalter – is Messianic (e.g., Lk. 24:44; Heb. 10:5). Psalm 22 is both historical and Christological. It is a prayer of David and a prayer of Jesus. Indeed, Jesus prayed it through David as his prototype and forerunner. But we cannot discount the meaning of the Psalm in its original context, nor can we carve up the Psalm into sections that belong exclusively to David and sections that belong solely to Jesus. However prophetic, these are David’s own words, penned under inspiration, describing his own life.[1]
I do not think we need to say that David consciously remembers trusting in God, even from the womb. Obviously, none of us can remember that far back. But David is asserting that he had faith, and he knows he had faith. This is not hyperbolic, poetic language. David is doing more than simply saying that he cannot remember a time in his life when he did not know God. He is viewing his infancy through the lens of the covenant promise. That promise explicitly includes children: “I will establish My covenant between Me and you and your descendants after you in their generations, for an everlasting covenant, to be God to you and your descendants after you” (Gen. 17:7). This promise does not say that God will become a God to our children when they reach a certain age or level of maturity; rather, the promise declares that from the very beginning of their lives, our children stand in the same covenantal relationship with God that we ourselves are in. Their status in the covenant is identical to their parents. Of course, this doesn’t feed presumption because, while the covenant is a blessed relationship, it is also a conditional relationship (Gen. 17:1, 8). Our children are under the same covenantal demand of persevering faith that we are under. They must mature in faith as they mature in other aspects of their personality.
David is not presenting his paedofaith as a one-in-a-million case. After all, his description of faith, even from the womb, was part of Israel’s public hymnbook, used in corporate worship. This is not a private prayer journal, but part of a covenantal liturgy. In public praise, every Israelite would have made the words of David his own, and would have been expected to be able to identify with them in some form or fashion. While I would not necessarily want to claim infant faith is universal among covenant children, at the very least, we can say it is “normative” or “paradigmatic” or “expected.”[2] It is the normal course of events, part of a typical covenant child’s pattern of development. In much the same way that hymns like Wesley’s “And Can It Be?” have made adult conversion the norm (“Long my imprisoned spirit lay . . .”) in revivalistic churches, so David’s Psalm made infant faith and covenant nurture the norm in ancient Israel.
Of course, Psalm 22 is not the only reference to paedofaith. We find something similar in Psalm 71:5-6. The psalmist once again describes himself as having a trusting, personal relationship with God from his earliest days. The beginning of spiritual life is, for the child of the covenant, coordinated with the beginning of physical life. When a sperm and egg unite in a covenant womb, the embryo already has a promise from God and an inescapable relationship with God.[3]
Infant faith is not just an OT phenomenon. Take the example of John the Baptist. While his case a bit unique, it’s still representative. In the womb of his mother Elizabeth, he leaped for joy when brought into the presence of his Lord and Savior, who was also in-utero at the time (Lk. 1:41). This is irrefutable proof that infants are capable of Spiritual relationships. How could John have perceived the presence of Jesus apart from faith and the work of the Spirit? Somehow John was able to personally interact with Jesus.
Later in the gospel accounts, we find a similar dynamic at work. The entire pericope of Matthew 18:1-14 deserves careful study. Jesus gives a paradoxical definition of greatness in the kingdom – it is characterized by child-like trust and humility (18:2-4). Jesus makes children the paradigmatic members of his kingdom. He does not say little children have to grow up and become like adults (complete with mature, articulated faith) in order to enter the kingdom; instead adults must become like children. All initial faith is paedofaith in that sense, and all baptisms are paedobaptisms. We all enter the kingdom as children.
Jesus then designates covenant children as special representatives of his presence (18:5). The language used here is similar to language used elsewhere for his specially commissioned servants; indeed we may say covenant children are miniature quasi-apostles of Christ (cf. Mt 18:5 and Lk. 9:46-48 with Mt.10:40-42). The point is clear: How you treat the youngest and most vulnerable members of the covenant family is how you treat Christ himself. How we treat these covenant children reveals either the pride or humility buried in our hearts. Jesus identifies himself with the little children, which would be odd, to say the least, if little children were not capable of having faith or being personally connected to him.
In Matthew 18:6, Jesus makes the presupposition of infant faith, implicit in verses 2-5, explicit. He speaks of “the little ones who believe in Me.” There is nothing in the passage to indicate that the little child Jesus was using as exhibit A (18:2) was a unique one-off specimen. Instead, that child was illustrative of the entire class of covenant children. That child represented an entire segment of believers, a group especially vulnerable to stumbling into apostasy, should older folks hinder them in their covenanted relationship to Jesus. Nothing in the passage indicates that only some covenant children belong to the kingdom or are included in Jesus’ welcome. Indeed, the strong inclusivity of the text makes it hard to imagine that Jesus would’ve turned away any covenant child. I would not want to conclude from this that absolutely all covenant infants have faith, but, as with Psalm 22, infant faith certainly appears to be the norm.
The sin in view in verse 6 is clearly apostasy. Adults are severely warned to do nothing that might cause their little ones to fall away from the faith. What might cause them to apostatize? We can think of several things. Parents who set a bad example by overt sin and/or hypocrisy tempt their children to stumble. Parents who fail to teach and discipline their children put a stumbling stone before them. Parents who fail to pray with and for their children also set up obstacles. Covenant parents who treat their little children as no better than rank outsiders or pagans do the same. They do not receive their children as Christ’s representatives (18:5), and in driving a wedge between their children and Christ, they put themselves (and their children) in danger. By excluding their children from the kingdom (for all practical purposes), they risk excluding themselves. It is precisely these little ones Jesus came to seek and save (18:10-14). God loves these covenant children and desires their salvation (18:14).
All of this is very practical, of course. The way Jesus regards and treats covenant children is the way we should regard and treat them. Parents, especially, should take note. Covenant children should be reminded that they are loved by God, perhaps just as often as they are reminded that they are loved by their parents. They should not be trained in methodological doubt, as some Christian parenting strategies have it. They should learn to think of God as their Father and Jesus as their Elder Brother. They should be enculturated into the life of kingdom from the beginning, constantly learning the privileges and responsibilities that have fallen to them as citizens in God’s new, messianic world. They should not be pressed for conversion, but exhorted to “improve” their baptisms, per WLC 177.
In the following chapter, Matthew again picks up this thread in Jesus’ ministry. Little children are brought to Jesus for blessing. Jesus does not drive them away, contrary to the disciples’ expectations (19:13). Instead he says, “Let the little children come to Me, and do not forbid them; for of such is the kingdom of heaven.” Jesus invites little ones to himself. He includes them as full members of his kingdom. There is no entry age requirement for the kingdom; all are welcome. Finally, Jesus lays hands on the children. He gives them a benediction. By laying hands on them, blessing flows out from him to the children (cf. Lk. 8:45). But here’s the catch: blessings can only be received by faith. Why would Jesus offer and bestow a blessing unless these children have the requisite faculty needed to receive the blessing? Why offer something that could not be received? Again, this passage only makes sense if we view the children as little believers. They’ve entered the kingdom by faith; they represent Jesus by faith; they receive his blessing by faith. In all these things, they are models for adults, not the other way round.
The plot thickens when we look at Luke’s version of the narrative. Luke identifies some of the children who were brought to Jesus as infants (Lk. 18:15). Again, nothing in the text identifies these covenant children as unique among the wider group. Apparently, Jesus intended his declarations about children and their covenant status as kingdom members to be applicable to any covenant child. These particular children represent the rest of that class of persons. Jesus regards covenant infants as believers; we should as well.
Several lessons follow from these passages. First, no where does the Bible attempt to give a psychological explanation for infant faith. We’re not told how infants can exercise faith, or how God’s relationship with them is constituted. We’re not told anything about the means God uses to relate to infants or create faith in their hearts. Obviously, the sacrament of initiation (circumcision in the old covenant, baptism in the new) effects a formal, public transition in the status of the child. But initiation into the covenant only formalizes and solemnizes a relationship which has already begun. If baptism is where the child officially “marries” Christ (cf. the language of union with Christ in connection with baptism in Romans 6 and the baptismal washing language in connection with marriage in Ephesians 5), prior to baptism the child is betrothed to Christ. During the “engagement period” the child is loved by Christ and has a real relationship with him. The child has a word of promise from the Lord of the covenant, a word that will come to even greater fruition when the child is brought for formal initiation into the covenant people.
Baptism, then, does not create faith in the heart of the child. Rather, through faith the child receives what God offers in baptism, namely, Christ and the benefits of the new covenant. Through faith, the child internalizes the objective status and identity bestowed upon him by baptism, as a member of the kingdom of Christ, and the house and family of God (WCF 25.4). In baptism, faith is increased and strengthened (WCF 14.1). But how all of this happens is not exactly spelled out in any detail in the Scriptures.
Thus, infant faith is a mystery. The Bible asserts it, but does not explain it. Some have offered helpful insights into the nature of relationships extremely young children are capable of (e.g., recognizing the voice of mother and siblings while still in the womb), but no exhaustive account of infant faith is possible. Of course, there is also great mystery in the way God works in the minds and hearts of adults. The psychology of the Spirit’s work is elusive to us.
Infant faith can be distinguished from adult faith, of course. At the core of each is a trusting personal relationship with God. But the traditional Reformed definition of faith as knowledge, assent, and trust makes adults rather than children the norm. Admittedly, paedofaith cannot include factual knowledge in the same way as adult faith. But I do not think this overthrows our understanding of faith. While infant and adult faith are different, to be sure, it is a difference of degree, not kind. Faith grows towards maturity as the total person grows. We will return to this shortly.
It should also be noted that not all infant faith is saving faith, in the sense of persevering faith. We already noted that some infants will fall away in our comments on Matthew 18:6ff. Some infants, like some adults, only believe for a season. In this case their faith may be regarded as one of the “common operations of the Spirit” (WCF 10.4). Obviously non-elect infants will never have saving faith.
Those who deny the possibility of infant faith often confuse the presence of faith with its articulation. Infants (and senile or retarded persons, for that matter) may possess faith (in the sense of a trusting relationship with God), despite their verbal inability to express that faith. But God’s arm is not too short to save; he can redeem to himself even those whose mental abilities are too weak and/or immature to manifest their faith.
The case of infants dying in infancy is an interesting test case for how all of this works out. Most theologians do not want to argue that all dying infants are lost to perdition. So, granting the possibility of infant salvation, we have to ask how infants are saved. Are they saved by faith? Some say, no, because infant faith bends the Reformed definition of faith (knowledge, assent, trust) out of shape. But the alternative is to say that infants are saved apart from faith, which bends the biblical doctrine of sola fide to the breaking point. How do we escape the horns of the dilemma?
I admit that this problem has not reached full resolution in the history of theology. The Westminster divines acknowledged this in WCF 10.3. This section of the confession walks a fine line between several different positions without really excluding any of them. For example, it asserts that elect infants dying in infancy are saved. But it does not identify these infants. One could believe that all, some, or none of infants who die in infancy are elect. The Confession then says that the elect infants who are saved are saved by Christ through the Spirit. So infant salvation is not an exception to solus Christus. The means used, however, are not specified since Christ works “when and where and how He pleaseth.” These infants who saved are regenerated, but the Confession is careful to not say that they have faith. So the possibility that infant salvation is an exception to sola fide is left open by the Confession.[4]
While I want to acknowledge the difficulty of the problem, I think admitting the possibility of infant faith goes a long way towards a solution. Relying on the biblical data that suggests infant faith is normative, we can say with confidence that all covenant infants dying in infancy are saved. In other words, understanding paedofaith can help us deal with an immensely difficult pastoral problem. While infant mortality rates are not what they once were (thanks be to God), it is still a common and deeply painful experience to lose a child in infancy (including miscarriages). I believe there is strong biblical warrant for telling believing parents that they will see their lost child again (cf. 2 Sam. 12:22-23).
Paedofaith gives us a theological compelling account of infant salvation. To deny sola fide simply seems to twist several biblical texts out of line. While our standard accounts of faith are fine as far as they go, they are too cognitive to be applicable to infants. The triad of knowledge, assent, and trust works fine in the case of adults, but seems unable to account for passages like Psalm 22:9-10. I would suggest that knowledge, assent, and trust comprise mature faith, while infant faith is simply an age appropriate expression of personal trust. Factual knowledge and assent will be added in later, but in the meantime nothing keeps the child from having a relationship with God anymore than the child is prevented from developing a relationship with his parent prior to attaining rational and verbal abilities.[5] The child has knowledge – personal, relational knowledge – of God in the same way he has personal, relational knowledge of his mother. Lest this seem too strange, remember that even in the womb God is infinitely closer to the child than the parents.
[1] Of course, even if we limited the words to Christ, we’d still have an example of infant faith. Jesus himself was fully human; if he was capable of faith as an infant, in principle, other infants are capable of faith as well.
[2] It seems to me that paedofaith is even bound up in the biblical warrant for paedobaptism. We would never knowingly baptize unbelieving adults; so why baptize a child unless we have some reason to regard him as a believer? At the very least, infant faith should be regarded as a presumption or judgment of charity. In an absolute sense, we can never know another’s heart, so we can never know with absolute certainty if they possess faith. In this sense, regarding infants as believers is no different than regarding professing adults as genuine believers. If parents believe God’s covenant promises to and about their children, I see no reason for them to doubt the presence of faith in the hearts of their children.
[3] Obviously, non-covenantal infants have a relationship with God from their earliest days as well, but it is a broken relationship. There is no hard biblical evidence that they have the same favorable God-ward orientation that covenant children have. In fact, there is a great deal of evidence to the contrary.
[4] All this is to say that the question of infant faith is really outside the scope of the Confession. The Westminster divines did not pronounce on it one way or another. At the very least, the 10.3 holds out the possibility of infant regeneration, which means infant faith must be at least possible – unless we want to say there are regenerate unbelievers!
[5] Paedofaith does not require a wholesale redefinition of faith, but it does require us to make some nuances and distinctions. Peter Leithart provides a fascinating account of the rationality of infant faith in his short article “Do Baptists Talk to Their Babies?” available at http://www.biblicalhorizons.com/rr/rr047.htm. Asking, “When can a developing fetus begin to exercise faith?” is part and parcel of the larger question, “When can an in-utero child begin to have personal relationships?”
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