Copyright: © 2000 Paul F. Bosch.
This document may be freely reproduced for non-commercial purposes with credit to the author and mention of the Lift Up Your Hearts web site http://www.worship.ca/ as the source.

The font is one of the primary architectural signs in Christian worship. It is a place of birth, of washing, and of drowning -- see Luther's far- reaching insights in his commentary on baptism in both small and large Catechisms. At least one liturgical scholar has maintained that Lutherans do not have much that is original to contribute to a theology of Holy Communion, but we do indeed have something new to say about Baptism!

But you'd never get a clue, in the architectural arrangements of many of our churches, that the sacrament of baptism is at all important to us. As a friend maintains, it's difficult even to find the font, in many church buildings: it's tucked off in a corner somewhere. And when you've found it, you discover it's concealed under an enormous cover, like a wooden witch's hat, that gives two men a hernia to remove. And when you've removed its cover, what do you find? An aluminum ash-tray with a dead fly in the bottom!

What can that possibly suggest about the riches of baptism? "Let it not be so among you!" Every font, in every Christian church building, should be given proper architectural honour. Some church buildings provide a separate baptismal room: a baptistry. Surely the font deserves a location within our buildings that suggests its importance: in an enlarged narthex, perhaps, near the entrance door, to remind worshippers that baptism stands at the entrance to the Christian life.

In any case the font deserves an architectural integrity and centrality equal to that given to our altar-tables and pulpits. It could be situated, perhaps, on a central axis with those "signs": from the font at entrance door in the "west"; to ambo-pulpit-lectern in the midst; to altar-table in the "east". (I'd be willing to reverse the locations of those last two.)

Although pouring and sprinkling remain familiar baptismal practices among Christians, Luther himself favored baptism by immersion, as the fuller -- the more "primary" -- of available baptismal "signs". Three dabs of moisture on a baby's brow is probably sufficient for us to claim we've seen a valid baptism. But that kind of sacramental minimalism hardly suggests the fullness of the meaning of baptism. In our own day we can rejoice that, once again as in an earlier age, congregations are reclaiming the fullness of the sign -- "enlarging the sign" -- by providing their worship spaces with substantial fonts, with generous capacities for water.

Further: Pastors and people do well to use some imagination in trying to reclaim at least some of the rich meanings associated with earliest Christian baptismal practice: nude baptism by immersion. Certainly infants can be baptized naked, without causing offense, in a combination of immersion and pouring, if the font is generous enough. And adults might remove at least some articles of clothing --a shirt, a jacket-- suggesting, as anciently, the putting off of the old life of sin and death, to be clothed after baptism in the white garment (the alb!) of baptism. On occasions such as the Easter Vigil, a farmer's portable stock watering-tank might be utilized for adult immersion-with-pouring.

Whatever the methods of baptism, copious amounts of water should be used. When a baptism is over, "the janitor should know that something's happened", as a friend maintains. In the course of a Christian baptism, the congregation, the candidate, and the simply curious should have been brought face to face with our most primary reality as baptized human beings: nothing less than new life out of death. There is a potent holy energy at work in baptism. Too often we trivialize baptism by our over- scrupulousness for (largely First-World, largely middle-class) proprieties: the tidy, the sanitary, the convenient, the decorous, the practical. As a result of such fastidiousness, the awesome and aweful and holy -- and sometimes messy! -- mystery evaporates before our eyes.

In certain seasons, such as Advent or Lent, and on specific other occasions, the entire congregation might assemble at the font for the Brief Order for Confession and Forgiveness, and process into the worship space on the Entrance Hymn, making it -- Surprise! -- a real entrance.

And the baptistry and font can be used as well for the Affirmation of Baptism, the congregation processing to or from the baptistry or font while singing a hymn.

A shell -- perhaps a real shell from the seashore! -- may be used at the font or carried in processions, for the purpose of asperges (that is, sprinkling the assembly) at specific times and occasions, such as at the Creed in the Affirmation of Baptism, as a reminder of our baptism. An evergreen twig or branch could be used as "sprinkler" on such occasions. There is ample warrant for this practice: Luther says every time you wash your face you should remember that you have been baptized. (Every time you shower? Every time you swim? Why not...?)

Further, we will want to allow both font and baptistry to show forth the sign of Christian baptism in a clear and constant and compelling witness. No flowers in the font, please: the font is not a florist's bowl, but a fountain for washing. Flowers may certainly adorn the baptismal space, especially on festive occasions such as Easter and its season. But access to the font must remain unrestricted, not simply on occasions for baptism, but at all times and seasons, so worshipers may approach it and dip fingers into the water, and perhaps "sign" themselves, in remembrance of their baptism.

I need not mention that the font should be always open -- that is, its cover removed and stored permanently -- throughout the year and in all seasons, and should contain at all times a supply of fresh water, as a constant reminder of baptism. A clean white towel or purificator rests at the bowl's edge, to allow for the fingers to be dried after they have been dipped. Worshippers do well to train themselves to visit the font regularly, to pray at the kneelers or seats provided (if any), and to dip fingers in the water and "sign" themselves each time they enter or leave the worship space.

And I am sympathetic to the possibility of supplying a few drops of water from the River Jordan, or from other important shrines or locations, to add to the font's water, upon specific request. This need not be understood as "magic"; it's simply a way to make important connections in people's lives.

Needless to say, plain old water (H20) is the non-negotiable element used for baptising, and not, for example, champagne. (You laugh? It's happened!)

And the non-negotiable instrument for baptising is the plain ol' human hand, or the human hand holding a shell. A real shell, that is, from the seashore; or (less "primary") a silver or bronze "baptismal shell" from the local Church Supply Store and not, for example, the petals of a rose. (You laugh? It's happened!)

Next month: the altar-table.

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Parts of this essay first appeared in Enlarging the Sign: Worship and the Hunger for Primary Experience, an essay in the Pastoral Essays on the Statement on Sacramental Practices series posted at Lift Up Your Hearts.