Recovering the Forgotten Demand of Allegiance
[한글은 여기 있습니다.]
Lately, I have found myself returning to a simple but arresting question: Why does the New Testament so often pair the call to “Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ” with the immediate command to “be baptised in His Name”? If baptism were merely symbolic—an optional rite tacked onto an already complete faith—why is it treated with such solemnity and weight, beginning with the Lord Himself? I think I now understand.
We Protestants have rightly torn down the edifice of works-based salvation. With the apostle Paul, we roar through the centuries: “By grace you have been saved through faith, and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God, not of works, lest anyone should boast” (Ephesians 2:8-9). This truth is the foundation of gospel freedom. Salvation is a gift, not a wage. It is received, not earned.
But in our zeal to safeguard grace, have we gutted belief of its muscle and marrow? Have we reduced faith to a flicker of assent, a nod toward a creed, or an emotional sigh at an altar call? Scripture paints a fuller picture. True belief is not merely mental agreement—it is full-hearted allegiance.
“The just shall live by faith.” This declaration, first uttered by Habakkuk and thundered again in Romans, Galatians, and Hebrews, ignited the fires of the Reformation. But few today realise that the Hebrew word behind “faith” is equally rendered “faithfulness.” Many modern translations quietly relegate this to a footnote, but God never meant it to be sidelined. The righteous man is not one who simply agrees with truth but one who walks in it—his life tied in loyal fidelity to Yahweh.
Why this disparity? Perhaps it’s because our modern Western mind, shaped by the Enlightenment, recoils at anything resembling duty or lordship. “Faith” as trust? Acceptable. “Faith” as fidelity and loyalty? Too feudal. Too absolute. We crave a Saviour; we resist a King.
Yet Scripture offers no such division. The gospel does not merely save us from sin—it dethrones our idols. The first command of the gospel is not “be comforted,” but “Repent!” The Greek metanoia means to change one’s mind, yes—but the Hebrew counterpart (שׁוּב shuv) means to turn. In other words: defect. Abandon your post. Lay down your arms. The call to repent is the call to renounce all rival thrones—self, lust, greed, nationalism, pride—and to swear fealty to the rightful King.
- Repent: Renounce your false gods.
- Believe: Pledge allegiance to Jesus Christ.
This is where baptism comes in—not as a token rite or an emotional ceremony—but as the public declaration of loyalty before men and before God. A man who enters and rises from the waters of baptism is one who has publicly cast his lot with the Crucified and Risen One—he is marked. He rises from the water with a banner over him that reads: “I belong to Christ.” The world, the flesh, and the devil no longer own him. He belongs to another.
Even the modern, truncated gospel cannot escape this truth. A man cannot claim to believe and then deny Christ by his silence. A woman cannot sing His praises on Sunday and shrink back in fear on Monday. A teenager cannot whisper His Name in prayer and then laugh when it is used as profanity among peers. The gospel is not only good news to be believed—it is a Person to whom we bow, swear allegiance to, and publicly acknowledge before the world.
Jesus did not say, “Whoever intellectually agrees with Me, I will confess before My Father.” No, He said, “Whoever confesses Me before men, him I will also confess before My Father who is in heaven. But whoever denies Me before men, him I will also deny before My Father who is in heaven” (Matthew 10:32-33). There is no such thing as secret discipleship. If we keep silent while His Name is mocked and misused—especially in this blasphemous Western culture where His holy Name is flung about like dung—we are not neutral. We are being disloyal.
I do not call for blasphemy laws or government coercion. Let Islam have its sword; we follow the Lamb. Christ compels men not by force, but by truth. Yet if those around us—friends, coworkers, even family—can curse His Name without the slightest rebuke from us, then we have failed in our witness. If His Name means something to us, it must be defended. Not by violence, but by voice. By courage. By public confession.
Don’t get me wrong: I’m not advocating for a return to state-imposed blasphemy laws like in most Islamic countries, indeed many Muslims living in Britain are now agitating for in the UK. In fact, in 2025, we already live under a de facto blasphemy code, where Two-Tier Keir Justice system punishes British citizens simply for saying or doing what offends Islamic sensibilities. This is absurd and unjust. The answer is not more censorship, but more truth. The government has no business policing speech. But this is not about the State—this is about us. Our friends, colleagues, neighbours, and family must know that when they misuse the Name of our Lord, they are offending something precious to us. If they can drag His holy Name through the dirt in our presence without the slightest response, then we have failed Him. If that Name truly matters to us, we will not remain silent. Not with violence. Not with laws. But with bold, unashamed speech. With love, and courage, and loyalty. We must tell them—gently, clearly, publicly—that we will not stand by as the Name above every name is treated like filth. Christ must be confessed—not only in prayer, but before men.
The hour is late, and the Bridegroom draws near. Let us take up the full weight of gospel allegiance. Let every knee bow, and every tongue confess—not in the safety of our sanctuaries only, but in the glare of the watching world—that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. For our citizenship is in heaven, from which we also eagerly wait for the Saviour, Our Lord Jesus Christ (Philippians 3:20).
