Then the Priest shall take the Child into his hands, and shall say to the Godfathers and Godmothers, Name this Child. And then naming it after them (if they shall certify him that the Child may well endure it) he shall dip it in the Water discreetly and warily, saying, N. I baptize thee in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.
In this country area, some couples still request the Prayer Book
Ministration of Publick Baptism of Infants for their child’s Christening. While some of the phrasing sounds quaint to modern ears, the Service retains a dignity and directness. I chuckle inwardly over the rubric’s idea of ‘warily and discreetly’ dipping the Child in the Water as I pour water on the head of the little one: a much more personal concern than the bland rubric in
Common Worship suggests. Our infant forebears were much hardier, surely, to be dipped in the cold standing water of the unlocked font. The enacted theology of dipping appealed, as a real sign of being buried in Christ that we may rise with him in resurrection. The practice and its practical implications however did not much appeal to me, nor, when they were asked, to many parents. Yet the sense that I have is that pouring water on an infant is a theological also-ran compared with immersion, and introduced mainly for practical reasons.
The medieval font of one of these churches is very large, and the basin has the capacity of a large baby’s bath. Architecture can constrain or release, and there is a need for theological reflection and imagination to see the possibilities opened in any particular building. I began to imagine an immersion in the font, and would mention to parents in preparation discussions that it was possible to offer immersion baptism here, not least because of the size of the font. Indeed, I would add, this was the preferable way and sprinkling the second choice. Parents looked lovingly at their baby as we spoke and decided warily and discreetly that they and the assembled family would much prefer the normal sprinkling. This was completely understandable and in a line with the compelling anxieties of our age and society about children and risk. Perhaps there also sounded something daring and ‘new’ about the immersion rite. I persevered in mentioning the two ways for a number of years without any parents choosing immersion of their infant.
Two years ago, however, a couple took up the suggestion very thoughtfully and generously. For them it seemed completely right, and I sensed their excitement as we discussed it. I don’t think any of us were fully aware of the practical preparations which were necessary, but knowing we were going to do it focussed our planning. Hannah would come into church in ordinary baby clothes, and would be dressed in the family baptismal gown when she had been towelled down and powdered dry. On the afternoon, I began to regret the sheer physical work of carrying the water to the font – much more than for a pouring. Yet we prepared everything and joyfully began the service, following the parents’ preference for the Common Worship Order.
In terms of feelings, to see little Hannah naked, and to hold her tiny human form cupped in my two hands, was deeply moving and fulfilling as a return to something much more obviously foundational in Christian practice and human life. That is our real, creaturely vulnerability and defencelessness. Hannah was much smaller naked than she had seemed clothed, also she seemed closer to her birth. Members of the family participating told me afterwards that seeing her nakedness had also affected them much more powerfully than they had expected. Our common humanity was revealed, only to be buried in Christ under the water in order to be raised in him. The dipping left the two of us much wetter than we had anticipated. I don’t know how, but my grip changed as I lifted her out and she was now held under her armpits, lifted up for a moment to all of us before being swaddled, now protesting loudly, in deep towelling in preparation for being clothed in the white baptismal robe.
We all had a sense of event, that something of deep significance and meaning had taken place. Some of the images of the wordy service had been given flesh. As a drama and picture of the whole Christian life, it is much fuller and satisfying than what usually is experienced. Personally I was very grateful for Hannah’s parents’ encouragement and generosity. They did not regret the choice for a moment, and so it was two years later that we immersed her younger sister, Grace, in her baptism. The word about Hannah’s immersion baptism had meanwhile got around the villages and a few other parents were encouraged to choose dipping, though most still did not.
If the understated act of sprinkling reflects in some way our fears for our children and narrows down the imagery of washing, the act of faith by Hannah and Grace’s parents stands out on many levels. It required more than the usual trust in the minister, for one thing: a true handing over to the church of the child – foreshadowing the later handings-over of marriage and funeral. Infant immersion is a counter-cultural act of theological imagination, and I am very grateful to the girls’ parents for opening up what was for me a vivid insight into and experience of the Pauline tradition of death-burial-raising, and being clothed with Christ. The fact is also that the parents and local family are more committed to the regular worshipping church than some, and I think that gave them all a deeper appreciation of the living theology we were drawing upon, which I have heard described as ‘the divine parabola’ of Philippians 2. The baptism seemed more Christological, drawing us all closer to the heart of faith. While this is a powerful insight from adult believer’s baptism by immersion, the baptism of infants introduces allusions also to birth, weakness, humility, dependency upon the gentleness of the strong.
I am aware that this is hardly new, nor indeed possibly even noteworthy. However, I was encouraged by a friend to write about this, as it really has refreshed my baptismal practice and thinking about it.
Thursday, 21 February 2008
