Once the theological rationale for the design of the font has been established, artists, architects, and craftspersons face the challenge of shaping a font that reflects those convictions. This article describes three thoughtful examples of recently constructed fonts.
How can baptismal fonts be designed so that they enable ritual fullness and signify sacramental richness? That is, how can fonts be designed for both functions (the immersion of adults and infants) and meaning (baptism as passage with Christ through death into life, as new birth, and as salvific washing)?
The church in the first three centuries did not need fonts; it used natural bodies of water for baptism. In the fourth through the sixth centuries, large baptismal pools were constructed, and the remains of many of them can still be visited in Europe and the Middle East. Today, however, we have inherited the minimalist fonts of the Middle Ages, and these often tiny fonts are neither adequate for the ritual actions of the baptismal liturgy nor appropriate for our renewed appreciation of baptism’s profound meaning.
Fortunately, in the past two decades in the United States, we have witnessed the design and construction of more adequate and ample fonts, and this article will highlight three of the best. These fonts share several very important characteristics. First, each is part of the space, not a furnishing in the space. Second, each is provided with running water in a quantity that enables the immersion of both infants and adults. Third, though the locations vary somewhat, in each case the location is related to the entrance, an important baptismal image. Fourth, each is freestanding, thus providing space for the baptismal party and congregation to gather around the font.
Indianapolis, Indiana
In his 1986 renovation of the Roman Catholic Cathedral of Saints Peter and Paul in downtown Indianapolis, architect Edward A. Sovik provided an octagonal above-ground immersion pool, 5 feet 6 inches in diameter, with water approximately 20 inches deep. In overall appearance, the pool resembles the ancient octagonal pools which can still be seen in northern Italy. The Sovik pool is located just inside the main entrance to the cathedral nave; a beautiful and imposing paschal candle stands beside it. The interior of the pool is polished granite, and some sections of marble arcade from the pre-renovation cathedral were used in the exterior sides. City water is used. The water does not recirculate, for reasons which, according to Sovik, are both practical (costs and pump noise) and symbolic (divine grace flows constantly). The water temperature and rate of flow can be controlled, and the pool can be drained for occasional cleaning. A removable stile facilitates entrance into and exit from the pool by adult and youth candidates for baptisms. The surrounding floor is terrazzo, so there is no damage from dripping water when neophytes go to the restrooms in the rear corner of the nave to change (a distance of about 40 feet).
Requested to provide a way to prevent children from climbing into the water, Sovik designed a brass wire “fishnet” that can be hooked into the interior of the pool about an inch below the water surface. It is easily removed when baptism is celebrated. Given the height of the pool, it seems unlikely, if not impossible, that a child could accidentally drown in it, but Sovik’s solution is certainly worthy.
At one side of the pool is an upper granite basin, circular on the inside (to symbolize the infinite, according to Sovik) and square (the finite) on the exterior. This upper basin is for infant baptism and is a source of water for making the sign of the cross when entering the worship space. The interior is 24 inches in diameter and about 5 inches deep. Water flows into the upper basin and then through a brass spout into the lower pool (although the lower pool itself can also be filled directly).
The font has several strengths. Its location is optimal, both liturgically and symbolically. Its appearance is beautiful in itself and in its setting within the renovated cathedral. Its octagonal shape “speaks” the eighth day, the new day of resurrection which we enter through our baptism. It holds a large amount of water—enough water to drown in or bathe in—and thus it is a fitting vessel for holy baptism. Its size accommodates the baptism of people of any age. The only criticism of this font regards the provision of the separate upper basin; it seems unnecessary. The lower pool itself, the top rim of which is 28×1
4 inches high, could easily accommodate baptizing infants by either immersion or affusion (pouring), and the water is easily accessible to hands for blessing oneself upon entrance to the nave. Double-level fonts are becoming common (and, as they go, this one is well designed and visually well connected to the main pool), but in this case, it is not necessary. In a society where theological debate continues about the merits of infant baptism, it would seem better for liturgical churches not to have multilevel fonts which may suggest that infant baptism is different from adult baptism.
Concord, California
The font at the new St. Francis of Assisi Roman Catholic Church in Concord (east of San Francisco) is a below-ground cruciform pool set within an octagon. Designed by architect Frank Mighetto, the building was completed in late 1986. The pool is approximately 6×12 feet across, with water about 2×12 feet deep. On two opposite sides of the cross are three steps into and out of the water—thus enabling descent into the waters as well as passage through the waters, both principal baptismal images. The interior of the pool is faced with attractive blue porcelain ceramic tile. The slightly raised slate tile octagon on which the pool is placed is symbolic of the eighth day. The paschal candle stand is placed on one side of the raised octagon.
At one side of the pool is a 30-inch raised stone font for infant baptism; it is a 9-inch deep octagonal basin within a square base. Water is pumped into the raised basin and then flows over one edge into the lower pool. The water is heated, recirculated for conservation, and filtered to inhibit algae.
The font is located within a narthex which, because of an ingeniously designed colonnade, creates the appearance of an octagonal baptistery at the main entrance to the nave. Just as the church itself resembles an early Christian basilica, the baptistery/narthex gives the visual hint of an ancient baptistery. Adjacent to the narthex are restrooms which may be used as changing rooms for adult baptism. The narthex floor is slate tile, so splashed or dripped water is no problem.
This is an impressive font, functional and powerful in its visual and symbolic impact. Mighetto has done well combining two principal motifs of baptism—death (cruciform pool) and resurrection (octagonal shape used for base, infant baptism, and baptistery area). Materials and colors are good.
Still, one wonders whether the location of the baptistery separate from the nave is the best idea. True, the entrance motif is clear. And true, the doors between this baptistery and nave are large. But perhaps it would have been better for liturgical reasons to locate the font within the nave itself or in such a way that it is clearly visible from every seat in the nave. A second possible criticism is the provision of a separate basin for infants, although here entrance blessing in the below-ground pool would be difficult (in contrast to Sovik’s raised pool in Indianapolis). Infant baptism in the lower pool would require the priest to enter the water. A third criticism relates to the placement of many plants around the entire perimeter of the pool. Presumably, it is to keep children from climbing into the water, but surely there are better solutions if, in fact, this is a problem (remember Sovik’s solution in Indianapolis). The near-jungle of plants greatly distracts from the font.
New York, New York
Saint Peter’s Lutheran Church in Manhattan, dedicated in 1977, has a large above-ground immersion pool at the entrance to the worship space. The font gives the impression of a square with 9×13-foot sides, although one corner is cut off for the steps down into it. The rim of the pool is 34 inches above the ground, and the water level at the bottom of the steps is 22 inches. The pool is constructed of granite, the same as the floor of the entranceway and nave. The architect was High A. Stubbins, Jr., with interior design by Vignelli Associates.
The water can be heated and recirculated. There is no purification system, and the pool is emptied weekly for cleaning and then refilled with fresh water.
The location of the font at the rear corner of the worship space is excellent both liturgically and symbolically. All persons entering the worship space must pass by the font, and they can easily dip their fingers in the water to trace on themselves the sign of the cross in remembrance of their baptism. Adults being baptized must descend into the water, a good baptismal image. Infants can be baptized by either immersion or affusion without the pastor entering the water.
The shape of the font, however, lacks the symbolic impact of those at Indianapolis and Concord. While it holds abundant water, the shape itself does not teach anything about the meaning of baptism. The other weakness of the space is the failure to provide nearby changing rooms.
Conclusion
While none of these fonts are perfect, they are all worthy examples of attempts to provide fonts that make an adequate statement about baptismal theology and which enable and encourage significant ritual action.