Baptism

Fonts for Function and Meaning: Some Worthy Examples

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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.

An Anabaptist Theology of Worship

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Anabaptists see the church as a radical body of believing disciples. Worship arises out of this community of faith and is simple and egalitarian. It recounts God’s story of redeeming love through the ongoing experience of the community of faith.

Worship says In the beginning God … and worship says, Yes, God’s actions are working out in our history for good. Worship respects and recognizes the various vitalities by which we enjoy life, the various values that govern it, and the various visions which transform it. Anabaptist worshipers respond to such revelations. Worship is therefore the interaction of the revelation of God and the response of the people who follow Jesus. We bring the phenomena of our living into the phenomenon of the living Jesus. We carry our various realities in into the presence of God.

Anabaptists have a faith-vision that calls forth unique worship patterns. The Anabaptist vision is almost five hundred years old and includes Mennonites, Brethren, and various Baptist and Congregationalists with sixteenth-century Anabaptist theological roots. The faith components may look very similar to those of other faith families, but what distinguishes Anabaptism is a combination and a configuration of “ABC’s”:

A. Authority of Scriptures, no t as a creed or code but as our stories and story to be believed and obeyed—that which forms and expresses our identity;
B. Baptism of believers (not infants) whereby one’s own faith in God, much like one’s love for another, evokes a public commitment;
C. Church as a community of the transformed, working out with others who are also a part of the body of Christ, thus a rejection of rugged individualism;
D. Discipleship of life, following Christ in imitation and participation;
E. Ethic of love in all relationships, an agape stance affirming even adversaries, seeking justice, building peace, reconciling relationships, confronting waste, living simply, honoring ecology, giving relief, sharing faith.

In worship, Anabaptists are consciously and communally responding to God. The purpose of worship is, all at once expressing gratitude to God and renewing, reaffirming, and reforming all aspects of life according to the ABCs of faith.

Worship and Liturgy

What does Anabaptist worship include and what does it look like? We’ve already alluded to the two necessary ingredients of divine expression and human experience—revelation and response. Simply put, worship is being present with Presence. We now examine three things that make liturgy happen in Anabaptist worship: experience, expression, and environment.

The Experiences We Have. Worship includes actual settings: It is involvement, taking place in the active and concrete here and now: a blessing for this meal, going to church, a dedication for this child, a consideration of this question and that issue.

Worship has to do with the wholeness of our various separations and sectionings. God gives us his peace, bringing harmony to our various dissonances. The biblical metaphor of the potter is telling: God taking clay and answering our song, “Spirit of the Living God, fall fresh on me, … mold me, make me, … fill me, use me.” Biblical precedents include the Corinthians’ love feast fiasco, Jacob’s wrestling with the Lord’s angel, Mary’s new vocation, Peter’s awareness that Cornelius is “in.” One cannot discard weekdays and have a weekend, or this pain and have that promise, or that brother and have this sister. Each fragment has a larger view, a larger setting, a greater dimension.

Worship has to do with all of our struggles; it takes them all seriously. Honest worship pays attention to our human conflicts; they are “tools at hand.” Life-stages and life-developments are the stuff that makes for worship. Anabaptist liturgy puts struggle where it belongs—in worship.

The Expressions We Make. With what symbols shall we tell the story—to us, to others, to God? Language comes in word and deed, helping us to praise, confess, commit, speak, and listen. In worship, language is always inclusive. Music both glorifies God and builds the body of Christ through expression in thought and feeling. It uses a variety of styles. Actions can be natural and spontaneous as well as planned, as in the examples of drama and dance. Silence also speaks: it is the still small voice of quietness. Preaching is allowing the Scriptures and the sermon to address us and then to respond to the living God. The sermon also allows for congregational preaching expressing itself as incarnation into today’s life and, therefore, as a redemptive sign and event.

The Environment We Need. The preacher and liturgists do not need “to be up there.” The best liturgical aid is people—seated in a semicircle allowing for a sense of community and communication. Visual aids (banners, paintings, free-standing cross, an open Bible, a candle, a globe, a Communion cup) can powerfully suggest, “We now have met to worship thee.” Biblical liturgy doesn’t occur only in the meetinghouse. Worshipers meet also in Sunday school rooms and in living rooms. A lit candle on the table in business and committee meetings reminds us of our purpose.

Worship and Rituals

The previous section shows that Anabaptist liturgies include the entire range of human experience. Here we see that all of life’s pilgrimage is the stuff of ritual performance—the locus where God is met. Assembling with others on the first day of the week is a repeated action and sign of our worship of God. Each Sunday service proclaims the giving of Christ anew. Sunday worship, like all repeated events, can deepen both revelation and response. Special acts of worship that signify God’s self-giving, and our self-giving in return, are properly called sacraments. Anabaptists are suspicious of this word, however, because of the track record in which sacred things have been exploited—in instances in church history when sacraments have become cultic objects. In Anabaptist worship ordinance has replaced sacrament, a radical and far-reaching switch. Ordinances, rites, and rituals are troublesome words for Anabaptists. “Performances” that God’s people enjoy might be better received.

Baptism is an initiation into the body of Christ, not only by believing in Jesus but in being part of the church. It marks the beginning of a pilgrimage of a lifelong journey of worship and witness. It is ordination into co-ministry with Jesus. It symbolizes cleansing and new life, an outward sign of new birth and new creation. Anabaptists practice believer’s baptism (sometimes referred to as adult baptism)—an experience akin to marriage in that baptism is a service of two parties who have consciously fallen in love with the “ring” (the water) as a sign and seal of that love relation.

The Lord’s Supper engages in living memory; it implies being present for a living memorial. It promises that something more is coming, particularly as one opens oneself to “thy kingdom come, thy will be done.” The future is present. Christ is present in the taking of the bread, which includes our “taking.” Our openness to Christ, our attitude of acceptance whereby we hunger and thirst after the brooks of eternal life, make this time of taking a junction where we meet God and where we receive drink that satisfies and food that nourishes. If we eat and drink “all of it,” we accept Christ’s joy and pain, fulfillment, and searching. We accept Christ’s continued purposes for the world, and we enlist in that mission. We fine-tune our motivation; we receive manna to carry on.

Other Performances include ordination, healing, reconciliation, marriage, death, agape meals, foot or handwashing, and the various markings (dedication service of a new home, high school graduation, mortgage burnings, child dedications, and commissioning of teachers and officers).

Worship and Living

It’s a cliché in church bulletins—“Enter to Worship … Depart to Serve”—but a cliché rich in meaning for Anabaptists. Biblical, Anabaptist worship begins at church but does not end there; it pushes us into witness and work and then back again to worship where we can be revived. Liturgy means the work of the people (not, as commonly believed the assembling of the saints). What goes on on weekdays follows what goes on on their weekends—the rhythm of the church gathered and the church scattered. Accordingly, Anabaptist worship underscores the biblical learning that believers bring to the world. For Paul, liturgical worship was an exercise of work and witness (taking offerings to Jerusalem, a hoped-for missionary trip to Spain, witness to the high officials of government) (cf. Rom. 15:9, 24–29, where the actual word “liturgy” is used). Later he designates as worship whatever we do as unto the Lord (1 Cor. 10:31).

Conclusion

Anabaptist faith-vision and Anabaptist worship-practice go together. The faith of a Christian as a disciple—can be analogized as a caravan, a people “banded together to make common cause in seeking a common destination,” whose existence is in a continual becoming, a following of its Lord on the way toward the kingdom. This vision is in contrast to a commissary, which has existence in its own being in maintaining its divinely given essence. The faith of shalom—God uniting and integrating holistically all the details of life’s pilgrimages—is found in human experiences, expressions, environments, and life’s repeated events. A life of faith is a response to the living Word, to the Bible as central, not so much as a message-book but a voice-book, speaking not only about worship but also as worship, giving voice to the presence of the living God. Anabaptists are at worship as they meditate on its words—from Genesis to Revelation—experiencing the One who is the Way, the Truth, and the Life.

Puritan Worship in the Post-Reformation Period

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A number of Protestant churches trace their descent from the Puritan heritage. In their worship, these groups share a commitment to a common principle: worship must be ordered according to the Word of God alone. Puritan worship is also characterized by covenant theology and an emphasis on prayer.

The American Puritans provide a seemingly inexhaustible mine from which historians continue to quarry their writings. Any attempt, therefore, to provide an overview of Puritan thought and practice in so short a space will be found wanting. Our emphasis, then, will be to highlight a few themes which characterize the Puritan outlook, and which are played out in their corporate worship activities.

The reasons for the establishment of the Church of England under Henry VIII were more political and personal than theological. The Thirty-Nine Articles, which form the stated doctrinal confession of the Church of England, were drawn up by Thomas Cranmer, Archbishop of Canterbury from 1532–1553. Puritans affirmed the Reformed content of the Articles, but they did not tolerate the way in which the English faith was practiced in the churches.

To the Puritans, the English Reformers had not gone far enough. The Puritans sought to reform the Reformation, or, more specifically, to carry the Reformation further, to fully purify the church of what they regarded as the malignant influence of Roman Catholic tradition. The English Puritans were a varied group, rather than a well-defined religious bloc. An entire spectrum of Puritan attitudes has been noted, ranging from those with moderate reforming intentions, who desired to remain within the Church of England, to those of more radical bent who separated themselves from what they perceived to be dead orthodoxy (at best) or, in some cases, apostasy. The label “Puritan” was originally applied derisively, mocking the scrupulous attitude of these reformers. The Puritans, as the epithet implies, sought a pure church, free from either secular or “popish” influence, beholden only to the Scriptures.

Some American Puritans, known to us as the Pilgrims, are of the latter variety—the separatists. Others retained official ties to the English church but were no less zealous in their desire for change. Sincere and pious, the American Puritans came to the colonies to worship God apart from the forced constraints of the established hierarchy. Their hard-line Calvinism would not allow them to accept and work within the more broadly conceived English system. Areas of concern that directly affected liturgical practice include:

Sola Scriptura. Understanding this Reformation tenet in its most literal fashion, the Puritans sought to use the Bible as their only source and guide in both worship and daily life. For them, the thorough study and application of the Scriptures was the cornerstone of life. In Puritan worship we can see this belief exhibited in the extended portions of the Bible read aloud at each service, interspersed with illuminating commentary from a deacon, and in lengthy sermons which were the focus of the Puritan liturgy.

Further, the influence of Scripture on the liturgical practices of the Puritans is evident in their rejection of the “popish” and human traditions remaining in Anglican practice. The drab garb of everyday life befits the minister rather than ornate vestments; metrical psalms sung by the congregation replaced chanting. Puritan worship stressed both head and heart knowledge of the Word: truth imparted in worship was lived out in daily life. Congregants took copious notes on the sermon, and the head of the household frequently quizzed his children and servants to ascertain their attentiveness to the sermon—their spiritual well-being was his responsibility.

Covenant Theology. The doctrine of election, as developed by Calvin, states that God elects persons through no merit, work, or choice on their part, and covenants with them to be their God. While the Thirty-Nine Articles affirmed this understanding the English church of the seventeenth century did not uphold it in practice. Similar to the children of Israel in the Old Testament, with whom many parallels were made, the Puritans viewed themselves as a holy people, set apart by and for God: a people for his name. This covenant is evidenced in two directions: between God and man, both individually and corporately, in God’s redemptive and providential action; and among the individual members of the covenant community, in their mutual commitment to one another.

Ecclesiology. The church is comprised of those persons who have been elected by God to the covenant community. The question then arises: How can one determine who has, and who has not, been elected? First, an individual must have had a definite conversion experience—a work of saving grace—which imparts a confirming knowledge of one’s salvation. Second, the veracity of this new life in an individual is confirmed through the witness of the community through observation of an individual’s life. One cannot be saved by good works or pious acts, but such evidence will surely follow in the life of one who is truly of the elect.

In worship, this aspect of covenant theology became most apparent in the administration of the sacraments, baptism, and the Lord’s Supper. The word “sacrament” itself, although employed by the Puritans, is problematic. No divine grace is mediated in the sacraments, but rather they are “seals” of the Lord’s covenant. They are the marks whereby God identifies his covenant with his people through visible, tangible means.

Baptism. The Puritans practiced infant baptism. Although not believing that any grace was mediated through this activity, they recognized that baptism denotes the parents’ membership in the community and their commitment to nurturing the child in the ways of God. Important as well is the trust that God has also predestined these infants to eternal election. Baptism, then, is both a sign of commitment and a step of faith on the part of the parents regarding the future of the child. In order for the child to become a fully participating member of the community in adulthood, evidence of election would have to be demonstrated as he or she matured.

The Lord’s Supper. Limited only to members of the covenant community, the Lord’s Supper provides the means of continuing identification with that community. Before the Sunday on which the sacrament was observed, members had to examine themselves, make amends for any wrongs, make apologies for offenses, and ask forgiveness for any sins. Both the bread and the cup were given to eligible communicants, served first by the minister to the deacons, then by the deacons to the members.

Prayer. One last aspect of worship which must be noted is that of prayer. Prayers often continued for lengthy periods of time, even hours, with the congregation standing. While spoken by the minister, the prayers should be considered an aspect of worship in which the congregation actively participated. Although we have no record of any audible response given by the congregation to the prayers, their participation came through the substance of the prayers: in them, the needs and burdens of the people were lifted to God. Prior to the service prayer requests were given to the minister who, presumably, elaborated according to his knowledge of the persons or situations involved.

We must not harbor the impression of Puritan worship as a dry, staid affair. Sober attitudes, lengthy, content-oriented sermons, and extended prayers, while incongruous in our fast-paced twentieth-century world, provided a means of touching and reaching the religious needs of the people of the early seventeenth century. Indeed, the Puritan vision did sustain serious blows in the last half of the century; these developments are beyond our discussion here. Yet, for a few brief, shining decades, the Puritans began to realize their dream of establishing a truly Christian community on earth. Their legacy has left an indelible mark on American worship and religious life in the centuries since.

Confirmation in Scripture

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Confirmation is the historic rite of initiation into the full fellowship of the body of Christ. Christian initiation in the early church apparently consisted of two actions, baptism followed by imposition of hands for the gift of the Holy Spirit. The sequence of events was governed by the early disciples’ personal experience of salvation in Christ and the endowment of his Spirit. Paul, reflecting theologically, brought out the underlying spiritual unity of the two rites.

The Issue of Confirmation

In general terms, the question of confirmation may be described as the place of the gift of the Spirit of God in the practice of Christian initiation in the early church. But the matter requires a closer definition.

The gift and presence of God’s Spirit in the church is a prominent assertion and theme of the New Testament. This gift is presented as a fruit of the redemptive victory of Christ and as a foundational event that brings into existence and thereafter maintains the Christian community or church. It is a community endowment establishing this community with its specific identity. Apart from the original individuals who, precisely as forming the original community received the Spirit directly (John 20; Acts 2), all others receive this gift only by becoming members of this community and thereby sharing in the Spirit with which it has been originally endowed. To receive the gift of the Holy Spirit is simply to become a member of this Spirit-filled community. The precise question to be faced is this: how in the actual practice and understanding of the early church was this gift received—as an effect of baptism or of a post-baptismal rite or as a somehow free gift of God later acknowledged by the community?

The New Testament material bearing on this issue has to be situated within the particular stratum of New Testament literature to which it belongs. Following this principle one may group the relevant material as follows: (1) the evidence in the Acts of the Apostles on the practice of Christian initiation in the early church; (2) the references in the Pauline letters on baptism and the gift of the Spirit; (3) material in the synoptic Gospels that reflects the early church’s practice and understanding of initiation (Of special significance here is the way Jesus’ baptism by John is reported.); and (4) references to initiation in the other documents of the New Testament.

Acts is specifically concerned with giving a picture of the life of the church in the early period. Its narrative thus bears directly on the issue under discussion and for this reason is the more hopeful document we possess for information on the early practice of Christian initiation.

Paul’s main interest is not to give any description of the initiation practice with which he and the addressees of his letters are familiar, but rather to develop a deeper understanding of what this now-past event means in the present and the future for Christian faith and life. This is essentially and totally a theological enterprise and not an exercise in the description of current ritual practice. For information on the initiation practice of the early church, Acts is the primary and controlling source; for developed theological insight, Paul is the significant writer.

Initiation Practice of the Early Church

The understanding of the gift of the Spirit in the Acts of the Apostles has its determining source in the event of Pentecost. This event signifies the endowment of the community of Jesus’ disciples with the promised eschatological gift of God’s Spirit. Together with the resurrection and exaltation of Jesus, this event signifies the effective dawn of the messianic age and establishes the community of Jesus’ disciples as the messianic community, the group that has received and now possesses the promised messianic blessings. Pentecost is thus the second event that brings the Christian church into existence and gives it its identity. The first and prior of these events is the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, which brings into existence the community of the disciples of Christ. The second is the coming of the Spirit, which establishes this already-existing community as the Spirit-filled community of the disciples of Christ.

It is important to note that the coming of the Spirit is a community gift and endowment. The question that arises, and that arose immediately, is how others could come to share in the blessings the community now possesses, including the gift of the Spirit. This is the question of the initiation practice of the early church, the system whereby new converts were admitted to membership in the community. The question arose immediately on Pentecost Sunday, according to Acts 2, in the reaction to Peter’s sermon. In reply to his audience’s question, “what shall we do?” (Acts 2:37), Peter answers: “Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins. And you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit” (Acts 2:38). The text goes on to state that on that day three thousand “were added” to the number of the community (Acts 2:41).

This passage describes, however summarily, the earliest practice of Christian initiation. A number of points arising from the text deserve notice. The words were added show that it is a question of new members joining an already-existing group and coming to share in their specific status and privileges. The issue that arises is what process or system of initiation the passage envisages. This process is described summarily in Acts 2:38. The text mentions explicitly the rite of immersion baptism, which is directly associated with “the name of Jesus Christ,” that is, personal adherence to or discipleship of Christ, and its effect is described as “the forgiveness of sins.” There then follows the reference to the gift of the Holy Spirit: “and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit.” The double reference to Christ and the Spirit clearly refers to and reproduces the two events that brought the community into existence and have given it its identity. This double reference, the Christological and the pneumatological, continue to characterize mention of Christian initiation not only throughout the New Testament but throughout Christian history.

But how does Acts 2:38 envisage the relationship between the water rite of baptism and the gift of the Spirit? At first reading, three interpretations seem possible: the gift of the Spirit is an effect of baptism itself; the coming of the Spirit is a subsequent event in the life of the baptized person unmediated by any rite, or the Spirit is conferred by means of a subsequent rite. While most commentators assume the first interpretation as correct, with little attempt at critical examination, it needs to be stressed that, taken in itself, the text has to be left open in its meaning and can only be finally interpreted in light of how Christian initiation is presented throughout the rest of Acts. But it should be noted that the particular Greek grammatical structure here, an imperative followed by a future indicative, strongly suggests that the first interpretation can scarcely be the correct one.

It is not possible to undertake here a detailed examination of the material throughout Acts referring to Christian initiation. It must suffice to mention some factors that enable one to determine the meaning implicit in Acts 2:38 concerning the gift of the Spirit.

A number of studies have made clear that consistently throughout Acts the gift of the Spirit is not presented or envisaged as an effect of baptism. Commentators have generally paid too little attention to the precise concept of the Holy Spirit Acts presents. This is the classical biblical and Jewish concept of the prophetic Spirit. But this concept in itself is not intrinsically connected either with ritual washing or forgiveness of sins, the stated effect of baptism in Acts. It would be extraordinary indeed if such an intrinsic connection now suddenly appeared in early Christianity, which, for its own thought and practice, was so heavily indebted to biblical and Jewish concepts.

Further, Acts 2:38 clearly presupposes a particular system of Christian initiation. This practice consists of baptism and the rite of imposition of hands for the gift of the Spirit (Acts 8:12–17; 19:1–7). Apart from Luke’s obvious familiarity with this initiation ritual, it is also clear that whatever sources he was relying on (probably oral, not documentary) confirmed him in his view.

Various other data that can be gleaned from Acts concerning Christian initiation cohere with and strengthen this assessment. Moreover, material from the synoptic Gospels now also falls easily into line. This applies in particular to the narrative of Jesus’ baptism by John in the Jordan. As described by the Synoptics (Matt. 3:16–17; Mark 1:9–11; Luke 3:21–22), this event is undoubtedly presented as a paradigmatic model of the initiation of the Christian convert and reflects the church’s early initiation practice. It is therefore highly significant that this event also consists of immersion in water followed by the descent of the Spirit upon Jesus. “At that time Jesus came from Nazareth in Galilee and was baptized [that is, immersed] by John in the Jordan. As Jesus was coming up out of the water, he saw heaven being torn open and the Spirit descending on him like a dove” (Mark 1:9–10). Here also the coming of the Spirit is a post-baptismal event. Given the literary form within which Mark is writing, those scholars who would wish to see the gift of the Spirit as an effect intrinsic to the baptismal rite of immersion would logically have to maintain that here the dove alighted on Jesus while he was immersed under the water. The text of Hebrews 6:2 adds its further confirming weight to the argument advocated here concerning the practice of initiation in the early church. This text can only be understood as implying a reference to Christian initiation as consisting of two rites, baptism and imposition of hands.

The conclusion to this summary investigation of the New Testament sources concerning the initiation practice of the early church is that this consisted of two rites, baptism followed by the imposition of hands for the gift of the Spirit (or, in later terminology, confirmation). It may seem surprising to us today that formal entry into the Christian community was thought to require two distinct rites. Under normal circumstances, it seems that one would be sufficient. This, however, is to impose a modern, rationalistic approach on the more imaginative and symbolic mind of former ages. One must remember the seedbed from which early Christianity, as regards both thought and practice, derived, namely Judaism, with the biblical history that lay behind it and the actual experience of the members of the foundational Christian church.

The original community recognized and identified itself as the community of the new era, the promised messianic community inheriting and possessing the messianic blessings. In typical biblical manner, this community and its privileges are presented as coming into existence in accordance with the model or pattern of salvation history, that is, a series of separate events following one another and building on one another until eventually a climax is achieved. The foundational community experienced the culmination of this history in the events of Christ and the Spirit, the two climactic events that have brought the community into existence and that gave it its identity as the Spirit-filled community of the disciples of Jesus. In opening itself to new converts, the community reproduces and expresses in effective symbol or sacrament the salvation history it has experienced. Hence the double reference in its initiation ritual, both to Christ and to the Holy Spirit, expressed by means of the two distinct rites.

This initiation ritual, however, based as it is on the model of salvation history and the actual experience of the original community, poses a challenge to the Christian mind to discern the unity that lies behind its discrete references. This challenge, which is an invitation to a strictly theological enterprise, was soon recognized and addressed. Herein lies the significance of Paul on the gift of the Holy Spirit and Christian initiation.

Deepening Insight: Paul

The Holy Spirit figures prominently in the thought and writings of Paul. The Spirit is an endowment of and a vital presence in the Christian community. It is clear that the gift of the Spirit is an effect of the past, once-for-all event of Christian initiation. But it represents an abiding presence, and Paul’s main interest lies not in the particular moment of the past or any description thereof but rather in illuminating the significance of this presence now for the life of the church and the Christian. This is the reason he shows little or no interest in any factual description of the actual event of initiation and why so little information can be gleaned from his scattered references concerning it. He was not liturgically minded. His interest was in developing a deeper understanding of what Christian faith and life mean. This is a theological enterprise in the proper sense, an effort of faith seeking understanding. It is an effort that searches earnestly for the unity underlying the discrete references of Christian faith and practice and in pursuing its tasks often finds itself embarrassed by these references and the salvation history model that has determined them.

Paul’s silence concerning a post-baptismal rite is largely explained by this context. For he was familiar with what we have seen was the regular practice of the early church. His references in Acts echo much of the same general understanding of initiation found in the early church. The characteristic double reference, both to Christ and to the Spirit, occurs again and again in the Pauline texts. But Paul’s effort to develop a deeper understanding of the mystery of Christian initiation leads him to develop new emphases and to bring the separate references together into a deeper unity. This is his significance and his achievement, and it is in this enterprise that the key to his thought and texts lies. His references are concerned with illuminating the existing, regular practice of the church, and they thus constitute, in the words of Rudolf Schnackenburg, “a marriage of the existing rite with the weighty thought of his theology” (Baptism in the Thought of St. Paul [New York: Herder & Herder, 1964], 30).

Central to this bold effort of Paul is the new concept of the Spirit of God he introduces that is to have such a profound influence in Christian theology. In early Christianity, the spirit of prophecy was understood to inspire forceful preaching of the gospel and accompany that preaching with confirming signs. But Paul now retrieves the other biblical concept of the Spirit, the life-giving Spirit (prominent in the Prophets, see especially Ezek. 36–37). This provides him with one of the ideas he is seeking to develop, a more unified understanding of the Christian faith. It enables him to connect the separate references, bringing them into a harmonious unity. In particular, he is now able to unite the references to Christ and to the Spirit in the rite of initiation. To be united to Christ means also to share in the Spirit of Christ, the Spirit of God; to receive the Holy Spirit implies union with Christ. This explains why the typical Pauline expressions, to be “in Christ,” and “in the Spirit,” in their deepest significance blend into one another and become almost synonymous.

This achievement of theological insight enables Paul to see the power of the Spirit at work also in the process of baptism itself, both in the genesis of faith and conversion preceding the sacrament and in the union with Christ therein accomplished. He is thus able to present Christian initiation as the unity it is, and this is the main thrust and direction of his thought. But this does not at all mean that on his own initiative he would have interfered with the established and inherited practice of Christian initiation and bent it at his will to his way of thinking. Nothing in his writings suggests he was or needed to be that kind of radical innovator. His theological enterprise transcended the salvation history model he was commenting on. Consciously or unconsciously, this was his purpose and his achievement.

But it is worth noting that in his most extensive and significant reference to baptism, Romans 6:3–11, Paul makes no mention of the Holy Spirit. This latter theme, so prominent in his thought, is not introduced until chapter 8. It is difficult to see how, if in the initiation practice of the church, the gift of the Spirit was seen as an effect of baptism, he could have avoided reference to the Spirit in this passage. No doubt the structure of Romans is important here. Nevertheless, if there is an argument from silence in the Pauline writings on this issue, it surely lies here.

Conclusion

The remaining documents of the New Testament throw little further light on this question. Something of the influence of Paul is discernible in the close linking in some texts of the work of Spirit with baptism (John 3:5; Titus 3:5). Though such references are often interpreted as implying that the Spirit is given in baptism, this judgment is over-hasty. Here again, is the Pauline understanding of the Holy Spirit and the Spirit’s role in the process of initiation. No more than in Paul himself, therefore, this close association of Christ and the Holy Spirit does not imply any denial of the existence of a special post-baptismal rite of the Spirit.

Viewing the evidence of the New Testament as a whole, therefore, one finds that Christian initiation in the early church consisted of two rites, baptism followed by the imposition of hands for the gift of the Spirit. This complex ritual was derived from and determined by the perspective of biblical salvation history and the personal experience of the original disciples. Paul, introducing a new and more profound understanding of the Spirit, was able to envisage and indicate the unity underlying this complex ritual with its discrete references. We meet here for the first time the tension between these two approaches to understanding Christian faith and practice, the theological and the salvation history approaches. Both methods will continue in the church, the salvation history model being more congenial to the instruction of new converts and teaching within the context of worship, the theological to the effort to achieve a more unified understanding. Both approaches are necessary; neither can be reduced to the other. When one approach tends to overdominate, false questions arise and inevitably receive false solutions. Much of the oft-referred-to “confusion” concerning the sacrament of confirmation has its source here. The legitimacy and necessity of both approaches have to be recognized and a balanced tension maintained. This is the way toward progress and understanding in this area of Christian faith and practice. It is also the way that offers the best hope for ecumenical discussion. This is perhaps the most valuable lesson the New Testament teaches us today concerning the gift of the Holy Spirit in Christian initiation.

Biblical Roots of Baptism

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Christian baptism has its origins in the various Jewish rites of ritual purification and in John’s baptism of repentance. Christian baptism differs from its antecedents, however, in important respects. It is baptism in the name of Jesus, signifying belonging to him, and is associated with the gifting of the Holy Spirit. Baptism symbolizes participation in Christ’s death and resurrection and the believer’s incorporation into the new covenant people of God. The New Testament does not lay out a specified order for the rite of baptism.

Baptismal Terminology and Water Symbolism

The English word baptism derives from the Greek verbs baptō and baptizō. In Greek, baptō means “dip,” “dye” by dipping something into dye, and “draw [water].” The intensive form baptizō means “dip,” or “cause to perish” by drowning or sinking (as a ship). The nouns derived from these verbs are baptismos (“dipping, washing”) and baptisma (“baptism”). The usual Hebrew equivalent for baptō and its cognates is taval; both terms imply an immersion and often carry the meaning of destruction by drowning. In the context of religious purifications the Greek verbs louō (“wash”), niptō (“wash, rinse”), and rainō (“sprinkle”) are more common than baptō or baptizō. The ambivalence expressed in the words baptō and baptizō is based on the natural symbolism of water, which holds an important place in all religious traditions. Water can refer to both the life-giving blessings of God and the evil forces opposing God’s authority.

Since all forms of biological life need water to exist, water is a natural symbol of life. Water quenches thirst and renews the human body. We use water to cleanse our bodies and to purify our food and all objects related to human life. An abundant supply of water— either through rain or from springs and rivers—brings growth, fertility, and prosperity. For those who live in dry climates water are a special sign of happiness and divine favor.

Yet water can be destructive as well as life-giving. Floods destroy homes, crops, and persons. Polluted water carries infectious diseases. The formlessness and force of water in a storm at sea or in a raging river make it a fitting symbol of chaos. In a religious setting, water can symbolize powers in opposition to the Creator God who imposes form and stability on creation. The ambivalence of the terminology for baptism and for water as a symbol finds expression in what the New Testament writers say about baptism.

Antecedents in Israelite and Jewish Practice

The remote antecedents of Christian baptism are to be found in Old Testament texts concerning ritual purification. Before carrying out rites in the tent of meeting (and later in the Jerusalem temple) priests washed themselves with water (Exod. 30–32; 40:2). On the Day of Atonement the high priest bathed his body before putting on the priestly garments and performing sacrifices (Lev. 16). The Pentateuch also prescribed washings as part of rites intended to end ritual uncleanness brought about through contact with unclean objects (Lev. 11:24–40; 14:1–8; 15:1–13; Num. 19:1–22). Ritual washings were so familiar to Old Testament writers that they used them in metaphors, thus endowing them with moral and spiritual dimensions (Pss. 24:4; 51:7) and in some cases eschatological overtones (Ezek. 36:25; Zech. 13:1).

Closer in time to early Christian baptism were Jewish practices that arose from or adapted the biblical rules about ritual purity. Part of the Pharisees’ program for a “priestly” Israel was the observance even by non-priests of the biblical rules for ritual purity. Ritual immersion baths from second temple times have been discovered by archaeologists at several sites in the land of Israel (Masada, Herodium, Jericho, Jerusalem, Qumran), a sign that ritual immersions were widely practiced.

The elaborate system of water channels found at Qumran indicates that ritual purification was a regular feature of life within the Essene community. The Community Rule (columns 2–3, 5–6) suggests that initiation into the Qumran community was accompanied by a special rite of washing that symbolized the initiate’s inner life: “And when his flesh is sprinkled with purifying water, it shall be made clean by the humble submission of his soul to all the precepts of God” (3:8–9). The community lived in expectation of the coming visitation of the Lord. From the beginning of their association with the sect, the members had a strong eschatological consciousness.

Two other possible antecedents for baptism are more controversial. The “proselyte baptism” in rabbinic literature (see b. Yebamot 46–47) is sometimes proposed as a model. A female convert to Judaism was required to undergo a ritual immersion, and a male convert underwent both circumcision and ritual immersion before undertaking Jewish life in its fullness. But doubts about how early this ritual was used and whether it should be called a “baptism” analogous to Christian baptism render it a questionable influence.

Likewise, the rites associated with initiation into Greco-Roman mystery religions are uncertain antecedents for baptism. That Jews of Jesus’ time knew about such rituals is entirely possible. But it is unlikely that such rites exercised more than a passing influence on the vocabulary and practice of baptism among the followers of John the Baptist and Jesus.

The Baptism of John

The Jewish rite most influential on early Christian baptism was the baptism of John the Baptist. John’s activity was centered in the Judean wilderness by the River Jordan. Not far from Qumran, this area seems to have attracted several “baptist” sects in the first century. The Mandaean movement probably originated in this milieu, though their claims to a direct tie to John the Baptist arose late, in response to Islam. Though part of a larger “baptist” movement, John was so striking a figure as to merit the title “the Baptist/Baptizer” from both Josephus (Antiquities 18:116–119) and the Evangelists (Mark 1:2–11 and parallels).

Whereas most of the Jewish ritual washings were self-administered, John’s baptism was administered by another. Whereas most Jewish ritual washings were repeated, John’s baptism seems to have been a once-for-all-time affair. John’s baptism demanded a turning around of one’s life in the face of the coming kingdom of God. Several important characteristics of early Christian baptism derive from John’s baptism: a water ritual, once for all time, administered by another, involving conversion and oriented toward the coming kingdom.

Two features distinguish Christian baptism from John’s baptism: Christian baptism is “in Jesus’ name” and involves the gift of the Spirit.

The point of contact between John’s baptism and Jesus’ baptism was Jesus’ membership in John’s movement (Mark 1:9) and the attraction of some of John’s disciples to Jesus when he went on his own (John 1:35–42). That Jesus accepted baptism from John is one of the best-attested facts of his life. Yet the accounts of his baptism (Mark 1:9–11; Matt. 3:13–17; Luke 3:21–22; John 1:31–34) are more concerned with presenting that event as the manifestation of God’s Son and Servant than as a model for Christian baptism. Despite the silence of the synoptic Gospels, it is possible that Jesus himself baptized (John 3:22, 26; 4:1), though this would not qualify as “Christian” baptism. [John 4:2, however, indicates that the actual baptisms were performed by Jesus’ disciples] The great commission of Matthew 28:19 reflects the liturgical language of the late first-century church. Neither Jesus’ own baptism by John, nor his activity as a baptizer, nor the great commission provides the one definitive link between John’s baptism and Jesus’ baptism. But given the common membership in the two movements, it seems that Jesus’ followers would have understood baptism “in Jesus’ name” and with the Holy Spirit (Mark 1:8 and parallels) as the continuation and fulfillment of John’s baptism.

Meanings of Christian Baptism

Baptism in Jesus’ Name. Christian baptism takes place “in Jesus’ name,” a formula that represents an earlier stage than the Trinitarian formula of Matthew 28:19. This Christological formula is taken for granted by Paul (Rom. 6:3; 1 Cor. 1:13, 15; Gal. 3:27) and expressed in various ways in Acts (Acts 2:38; 8:16; 10:48; 19:5). The Semitic expression underlying “in the name of” (lƒshem in Hebrew, lƒshum in Aramaic) allows several interpretations: with respect to, for the sake of, and with thought for. In any case, the baptized person now belongs to God through the saving event associated with Jesus. In baptism one belongs to Jesus (1 Cor. 1:10–17) and confesses him as Lord (1 Cor. 12:3; Rom. 10:9), thus putting aside all other masters. Perhaps with a deliberate allusion to slavery, Paul refers to baptism as the “seal” (2 Cor. 1:22). In baptism one is delivered from the dominion of darkness and transferred to the kingdom of God’s beloved Son (Col 1:13).

Baptism and the Spirit. Christian baptism also differs from John’s baptism by its association with the gift of the Holy Spirit (Mark 1:8; Acts 1:5; 11:16). Although the fullness of the Spirit is reserved for the eschaton, baptism brings the “firstfruits of the Spirit” (Rom. 8:23). The present experience of the Spirit is also described as the “down payment” or “first installment” (arrabōn) of what will be in the future (2 Cor. 1:22; 5:5; Eph. 1:14).

The precise relationship between water baptism and the gift of the Spirit seems to have been a problem for some early Christians. That the two belong together is affirmed by many New Testament texts (John 3:5; 1 Cor. 12:13; 2 Cor. 1:22; Titus 3:5). How they fit together is problematic mainly because of some strange texts in Acts. At Pentecost, the gift of the Spirit is a consequence of water baptism (Acts 2:38). Whereas some Samaritans had been baptized in Jesus’ name but had not yet received the Spirit (Acts 8:14–17), in the Cornelius episode Gentiles first receive the Spirit and then undergo water baptism (Acts 10:44–48). Those at Ephesus who had received John’s baptism need to receive the Spirit through the agency of Paul (Acts 19:1–7). Nevertheless, despite the variety in order, Luke’s point in all these texts is that water baptism and the gift of the Spirit belong together.

Baptism and the Death of Christ. The most extensive and profound reflection on the meaning of baptism appears in Romans 6. There Paul joins the baptismal themes of belonging to Jesus as Lord and the first installment of the gift of the Spirit to his theology of the cross: “Don’t you know that all of us who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were therefore buried with him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life” (Rom. 6:3–4). The connection between baptism and Jesus’ death may have been suggested by the ambivalence of water as a symbol—both life-giving and death-dealing. Paul finds in baptism a death to the world ruled by the evil powers (sin and death) and the possibility of living a new life under the guidance of the Spirit (Rom. 8). Yet the new life is not yet fully realized; it demands conduct appropriate to one who is led by the Spirit (Rom. 12:1–8) and rejects the idea that “everything is permissible” (1 Cor. 6:12; 10:23). Thus in Romans 6 Paul specifies the point of identity between Christ and the baptized person as Jesus’ death and resurrection, underlines the preliminary nature of the gift of the Spirit, and challenges his readers to “walk” appropriately as they await the fullness of God’s kingdom.

The notion of baptism as passing from the dominion of sin, death, and the Law to the dominion of Jesus and the Spirit is Paul’s way of talking about a motif that runs from John’s baptism to Christian baptism: the forgiveness of sins (Mark 1:4; Luke 3:3; Acts 2:38; 10:43; 26:18). This motif is also the starting point for reflection on the problem of repentance after apostasy (Heb. 6:1–6; 10:26). Other New Testament baptismal motifs associated with the forgiveness of sins include baptism as “pledge of a good conscience toward God” (1 Pet. 3:21), as a means of rebirth (John 3:3, 5; 1 Pet. 1:3, 23; Titus 3:5–7), and as a washing (1 Cor. 6:11; Eph. 5:26; Titus 3:5; Heb. 10:22).

Baptism and Incorporation into the People of God. The communal dimension of baptism and its power to incorporate even non-Jews into the people of God emerges from Paul’s reflection on people of faith as the true children of Abraham: “For all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ.… If you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s seed, and heirs according to the promise” (Gal. 3:27, 29). In the midst of that conclusion Paul quotes an early Christian baptismal slogan: “There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus” (Gal. 3:28). Though Paul showed interest in only the first of the three pairs, the content of the slogan corresponds to his themes of non-partiality before God (Rom. 2:11) and the equality of access to God’s grace in Christ (1 Cor. 10:1–6; Eph. 2:1–16).

Baptismal motifs are so prominent in 1 Peter that it has been interpreted as a baptismal instruction or catechesis. Whatever the validity of this interpretation, it is fair to describe the spirituality of 1 Peter as thoroughly baptismal. A consequence of the author’s reflection on baptism is his bold address to a largely Gentile community in terms applied in Exodus 19:5–6 to Israel at Sinai: “a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people belonging to God” (1 Pet. 2:9). What makes possible such assertions is the incorporation of non-Jews into God’s people through baptism “in Jesus’ name.” [Baptism, therefore, corresponds to circumcision as the sign of the covenant between the Lord and his people. Paul compares baptism with circumcision in Colossians 2:11–13.]

Order for New Testament Baptism

There is no explicit description of the rite of baptism in the New Testament. What can be said about that rite must be inferred from passing comments. This is a dangerous procedure since one can imagine all kinds of rituals on the basis of metaphors and other figures of speech.

With that caution in mind, it is possible to say the following about the rite of baptism in New Testament times. The person to be baptized received a form of instruction (1 Cor. 15:1–8, Heb. 6:1–2). As with John’s baptism, Christian baptism was administered by another (1 Cor. 1:14–17). The word baptizō, the imagery of baptism as a drowning (Rom. 6:1–11), and the practices associated with Jewish ritual ablutions and baths (miqva’ot) all indicate that immersion was the usual method of baptizing. Women may have been baptized by other women (Rom. 16:2), though this is never made explicit. Where there was not sufficient water available for immersion, it was allowable to “pour water three times on the head” (Didachē 7.3). The person was baptized “in the name of”—at first that of Jesus, and later that of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit (Matt. 28:19; Didachē 7.3). There may also have been questions directed to the congregation about the candidate’s fitness (Acts 8:37; Mark 10:14), hymns (Col. 1:12–20; Eph. 5:14), confessions of faith (Rom. 10:9; 1 Cor. 12:13; Heb. 4:14; 1 John 4:15; 5:5), and the imposition of hands (Acts 8:16–17; 19:6).

The premise behind most New Testament baptismal texts is that candidates were adults. It cannot be proved (or disproved) that young children or infants were also baptized in New Testament times. It is not certain that texts about the baptisms of entire households (1 Cor. 1:16; Acts 2:38–39; 11:14; 16:15, 33–34; 18:8) really include infants. Peter’s promise “for you and your children” in Acts 2:39 refers to the succeeding generation(s), not to infant baptism. Jesus’ rebuke of his disciples, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them” (Mark 10:14), had nothing to do with baptism in New Testament times. Whether young children or infants should be baptized raises the question about the nature of baptism. Is the essence of baptism the candidate’s confession of faith, or is it the reception and appropriation of the salvation offered “in Jesus’ name?” [Or is it the sign of membership in the covenant community, corresponding to circumcision? Jewish males were circumcised at the age of eight days, not by their own volition but by that of their parents; it seems reasonable that some Christian converts might have viewed the baptism of their children as a parallel rite.]

Perhaps the strangest element in the New Testament teaching about baptism is the practice of baptism for the dead: “What will those do who are baptized for the dead? If the dead are not raised at all, why are people baptized for them?” (1 Cor. 15:29). It seems that people in Corinth had themselves baptized vicariously for dead people. Instead of criticizing this custom directly, Paul uses it to bolster his argument about the reality of the resurrection. The practice was continued by the Marcionites and other heretical groups but condemned by the church at large. Paul’s point was that this practice was a sign of belief in the resurrection at Corinth. The magical assumptions behind it ran counter to Paul’s insistence on “walk[ing] in newness of life” (Rom. 6:4 RSV), as his reflection on the wilderness generation shows: “all were baptized into Moses in the cloud and in the sea.… God was not pleased with most of them” (1 Cor. 10:2, 5).