table

Evaluating the Place of the Altar or Table

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This article argues that the altar should serve as a focal point in the worship space. It discusses both the theological rationale for this idea and how it can be achieved through spatial arrangements and seating patterns. It is presented from a Roman Catholic perspective but introduces ideas that can inform discussions in many worshiping traditions.

Liturgy documents, rituals, and commentaries published since the Second Vatican Council clearly indicate that the altar table is to be a focal point in worship spaces and that it is to be central to the gathered assembly. These sources paint a striking picture of the whole assembly gathered about the altar table. Why then is the altar table in most Catholic places of worship still located at one end of the room?

One answer has to do with how a community understands the different roles required for the eucharistic liturgy. Another answer is found in the research that deals with the psychology of space, e.g., territoriality and seating factors. Both answers affect the location of the community table. The case studies depicted in this article show that it is possible to return the Table to the community.

Assembly as Celebrant

Does the worship space say that the assembly is the celebrant of the eucharistic liturgy? Or does it say that the priest presents the liturgy to the assembly? In a technical sense, liturgy is shaped by different roles and actions. A community that understands this principle can identify appropriate architectural settings for various liturgical ministries and movements. These spaces are then specifically designed according to the needs of each ministry.

For example, choirs and musicians are ideally arranged together in a flexible, elevated area in view of the rest of the assembly. Hard surfaces and finishes, adequate light, and acoustical equipment are essential to this ministry. The same consideration should be given to all other ministries including the assembly. (Here some readers will have different opinions regarding the ministerial nature of the assembly during the liturgical act. To be involved in a ministry requires a commitment and willingness to learn how to carry out the ministry in an exemplary fashion. One wonders if assemblies are ready for this kind of involvement.) Nevertheless, we must remember: Liturgical services are not private functions, but are celebrations of the Church, which is the “sacrament of unity,” namely, the holy people united and ordered under their bishops.

Therefore liturgical services pertain to the whole body of the Church; they manifest it and have effects upon it; but they concern the individual members of the Church in different ways, according to their differing rank, office, and actual participation. (Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, 26)

Although many communities have worked hard to improve liturgical ministries, the arrangement of the worship setting, in many cases, works against the efforts of liturgy planners to involve the assembly. Long straight rows of seats, bolted to the floor, facing the priest who presides from an elevated platform at one end of the room, creates a divided environment for worship that renders the assembly passive. This type of setting does not foster the bonding of the assembly.

The place of worship can help the assembly in its liturgical role by gathering participants around focal points (e.g., the Table) and not dispersing them. The environmental needs of the assembly include:

  • Ample, barrier-free spaces for gatherings and processions
  • Unobstructed and well-spaced seats
  • Good sightlines
  • Good acoustics
  • Comfortable temperature
  • Appropriate color schemes
  • Accessible focal points

This last factor means the assembly is arranged in such a manner that it has visual, acoustical, physical, and psychological accessibility to the major furnishings used for worship (font, ambo, Table).

If the Table is located in a space that says, “KEEP OUT!” the worshiper will sense “the Table does not belong to me” and “the Eucharist celebrated on that Table does not belong to me—it belongs to the priest who gives it to me.” This is perhaps why some people have resisted extraordinary eucharistic ministers. In their minds only the priest has the power to do the eucharistic act which traditionally took place in a special part (sanctuary) of the room where only the priest was once allowed. Here power and space are connected. Poor, powerless people do not own vast amounts of territory. People with power have lots of space.

Spatial Arrangements

In most worship places the architectural settings for the presider’s chair, the ambo, and the Table are still remote and distant from the assembly. These furnishings are usually found in the territory traditionally set aside for the ordained. Although the Roman Catholic church requires an ordained priest to preside at the eucharistic liturgy, the placement of the Table should not suggest that the Mass is an action delivered by the priest to the assembly.

However, the usually remote location of the Table should not surprise us. Robert Sommer, who has researched the behavioral basis of design, wrote, “Because social and spatial orders serve similar functions, it is not surprising to find spatial correlates of status levels and, conversely, social correlates of spatial positions.” (Personal Space [Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1969]). In this sense, one can see how certain Catholic ritual conventions have created spatial hierarchies that are difficult to change. Furthermore, Sommer says “the ancients placed great value on chairs and thrones in which their political and religious leaders sat.… The seating position is an important part of diplomatic protocol with people often seated according to a complicated formula of rank and status.”

The traditional hieratic arrangement of Catholic worship spaces (the sanctuary for the priests and the nave for the laity) can be analogous to the barnyard pecking order alluded to in Sommer’s work. In the barnyard, the top fowl (i.e., roosters) can roam where they please while the lower birds are restricted to small areas. Rails may have been taken down, but the distance factors in many houses of worship sustain the division and outline territories for different castes. There does not seem to be any significant or theological reason for maintaining a spatial pecking order in places of worship. In fact, the only reason for elevated platforms is to provide adequate sightlines.

Moving the Community Table, the ambo, and the presider’s chair into the midst of the assembly can help erase any semblance of division, territoriality, and ranking during the eucharistic liturgy. The centralized setting will affirm that all worshipers (priests and people) are the celebrants and that every person present has a particular role to carry out. It says that the Table belongs to all. Further, reducing the distance between the assembly and the Table (often by as much as 50 percent) will provide better sightlines, eliminating the need for very high and inaccessible platforms.

Seating Patterns

The arrangement of seats in a place of worship can affect the “performance” of the participants in the liturgy. Humphrey Osmond, in his classic 1950s study on airports, prisons, and hospitals (in C. Goshen, Psychiatric Architecture, 1959) made the distinction between sociofugal and sociopetal settings (see figure below). Quite simply, the sociofugal arrangement—straight rows of seats—discourages interaction among people and drives them to the edge of the room. We find such arrangements in airports, theaters, and churches. Ever notice how people will occupy the end of a pew while the middle of the row remains empty? These people are choosing the optimum seating location, suggesting they are probably not comfortable in that space. (The need for privacy, another important environmental factor, is not discussed in this article.)

Irwin Altman wrote that “strangers who expect to deal with one another are likely to seek an optimum interaction distance; deviations from this distance (much closer or much farther) are unsatisfactory. This is in relationships between strangers in which there is an explicit expectation of interaction” (The Environment and Social Behavior [Pacific Grove, Calif.: Brooks/Cole, 1975]). Could it be that most Catholic worshipers are not comfortable with the expectations placed on them during the eucharistic liturgy? Perhaps, over a period of time, a more inviting spatial arrangement could foster a gentle understanding of the liturgical act?

A Sociofugal Setting

A sociopetal pattern, seats arranged in circular typesetting, encourages interaction, focuses people on the center of the room, and brings them together. We find this arrangement at the dining room table where family and guests eat and drink as friends. A worshiping community striving for energetic involvement in the liturgical event will discover that a more sociopetal arrangement of seats will begin to shape the participatory behavior of the assembly. However, communities with worshipers who do not like to look at each other while praying have to solve the societal problem before addressing the liturgical problem. Such shy people will naturally move to the optimum rows.

A Sociopetal Setting

Placing the Table in the midst of the worship setting will help the assembly bond over time and focus its undivided attention on the actions taking place at the Table. Restoring the Table to the worshipers is an important part of the renewal of the liturgy and can no longer be overlooked.

Questions to Ask about Your Worship Space

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This article asks the kinds of questions that force congregations to think about the power of their worship space to form worship that is faithful to the gospel and meaningful to all participants. The questions are asked in light of the Reformed tradition, but can be modified to reflect the specific theological commitments of any given worshiping community.

The sanctuary is the setting for most corporate worship experiences. Either by design or by interest, the worship committee often finds itself involved in the custodial concerns and mechanics of presenting meaningful worship in that space. While mechanical concerns are not to be ignored, theological messages presented by the setting need to receive attention as well. The worship committee can be the bridge between the congregation’s level of understanding of worship and the clergy’s role in utilizing the symbolic in response and instruction.

Take time to look objectively at your worship setting. Do the furnishings and architecture and symbols represent your congregation’s theology of worship? Do they tell a faith story or reflect socioeconomic values? Does the building focus on God, or has the building become the thing that we worship?

The Room. What message is communicated by the room itself? Does it generate a sense of awe or a sense of community? Do you want it to be a place for responding in worship—or a place for observing worship? What can be done to make a tiny church feel awe-filled? What can a large worship space do to provide a setting for “community”? Does the church with movable seating communicate an active, alive faith, or careless disregard for tradition? Most of all, is what you see in your sanctuary consistent with the theology of worship?

The Pulpit. Where is the pulpit located? Is the clergy “removed from” or “among” the people? Does its placement say what you believe about the relationship of clergy and laity?

The Table. Is it clear that the Lord’s Table is a table and not an altar? Is the Table intentionally placed either “removed from” or “among” the people? Would there be a powerful message in changing its location on some occasion? Does the congregation understand the symbolism of whatever arrangement or placement you are utilizing or tolerating?

The Baptismal Font. Where is your baptismal font or bowl located? Calvin would have placed it near the pulpit (the Word) and the Lord’s Table to indicate the unity of the three. Some of us, on the other hand, have begun to appreciate the placement of the font by the entrance to the sanctuary as symbolic of baptism as an entrance rite into the life of the church. What can be communicated if the baptismal font or bowl is very small or usually stored in a cupboard in the kitchen?

Other Visual Symbols. Are your symbols, including the cross, selected and placed with an eye to the message? Are the symbols, especially banners, ever changed, changed seasonally, weekly, or only when convenient? Have memorial gifts distorted the faith story? What is the value of floral arrangements? Can they enhance the liturgical year in addition to reflecting the seasons of the calendar? Does the lighting of a candle or candles, especially a paschal candle, have symbolic value in your congregation or is the lighting a housekeeping matter understood only by clergy?

Recently I heard of a church building program in which every design decision was made with an eye to its potential value for teaching and experiencing the faith. I also visited a sanctuary in which the baptismal font was padlocked and the chancel cross so small as to be nearly imperceptible. I am curious what a caring worship committee might do with each of these “problems.” In the first case, the power of the theology of the building and furnishings cannot be sustained if the symbols are neither taught nor space utilized consistently with their understanding. In the case of the second church, it is necessary to recognize the power of symbols for everyone in order to correct the messages now being communicated unintentionally. In careful planning of new worship space, the potential for empowering or at least stimulating the congregation by design and furnishing is immense. But the constraints of the already-designed or misdesigned facility require even more of the committee if the building is to say what we believe.

It is God that empowers our faith journey, but the use of the space has the power to detract or enhance the journey. The issues will not produce ultimately the right answers but will assist the faithful in understanding. We must take worship seriously enough to not miss opportunities to teach the faith and to carefully call it out in all that we do.

Pulpit, Font, and Table

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The following article examines every aspect of the worship space, reflecting the unique perspectives of the Reformed tradition. With regard to many concerns, the similarity of the Reformed view with other views expressed in this chapter is quite striking—a reflection of how much various worship traditions have learned from each other. One point of contrast among traditions concerns the understanding of the sacraments and how that understanding is reflected in the design of the worship environment.

Church buildings are really quite unnecessary! In fact, early in its history, the church did not have buildings. If the church were again to be without buildings, it certainly would be hampered, but it would not lose anything essential to its life. All that is needed is some space, a Bible, some water, a loaf of bread, and a bottle of wine. This is true because it is the community that the building houses that is primary. The community of God’s people gives the building its meaning, purpose, and dignity. The building has little meaning apart from the community that gathers in it.

However, buildings are important. They are important because of their function. They accommodate the gathering of people and provide a place where the Word can be preached and the sacraments celebrated. It is not easy to maintain the community apart from someplace to meet. Furthermore, the building either helps or hinders the church in understanding its true God-given nature. Whenever a congregation builds or renovates its space for worship it ought to ask itself, “How can the space for worship best serve to build up the community in Christ?”

Form Follows Function

Modern architecture works from the premise that form follows function. This means that buildings are designed from the inside out. Worship space is, therefore, to be built to serve the liturgy in the best possible way. Care needs to be taken to ensure that our buildings do not get in the way of the liturgical actions. Worship should never be shaped by the architecture; worship should always shape the architecture. Peter Hammond wrote, “The task of the modern architect is not to design a building that looks like a church. It is to create a building that works as a place for liturgy” (Peter Hammond, Liturgy and Architecture [New York: Columbia University Press, 1961], 9).

When planning space for worship, we need to consider first the nature and needs of the worshiping community and seek to answer questions such as, “What is the church, … its purpose, … its mission?” “What is the meaning of worship, … of the sacraments, … of preaching?” “How can space for worship help us understand worship?” “What are the actions and movements of the liturgy, and how can the building best accommodate them?” Only by beginning with this kind of a functional analysis can the resulting space adequately serve its purpose. A congregation should never ask an architect to start plans until it has come to understand the nature and function of its life together as a community of faith. It is the responsibility of the congregation to articulate this self-understanding to the architect so that it may shape the design.

The importance of starting with a definition of function becomes clear when one realizes that the reverse of the principle “form follows function” is in some sense also true. A building always tends to shape what takes place in it. John A. T. Robinson made this point:

The church building is a primary aid, or a primary hindrance, to the building up of the Body of Christ. And what the building says so often shouts something entirely contrary to all that we are seeking to express through the liturgy. And the building will always win—unless and until we can make it say something else. (John A. T. Robinson, “Preface,” in Making the Building Serve the Liturgy, ed. by Gilbert Cope [London: A. R. Mowbray & Co. Ltd., 1962], 5)

It is important to so shape the building for worship that, when it is used, it will shape us in accordance with the best insights of our faith.

Space for Corporate Worship

Space for worship should help a congregation understand that Christian worship is basically communal. Many church buildings encourage an individualistic view of worship and contribute little to a corporate sense. A building designed for corporate worship should somehow seem incomplete until the people gather together in it.

It is important to consider how the expression of worship’s corporate nature should shape the form and location of each of the liturgical spaces:

A.     the place occupied by the congregation;
B.     the area for the choir;
C.     the space for baptism;
D.     the space for proclamation;
E.     the space for the Lord’s Supper; and
F.     the space required for processions and the movement of the people.

For example, the location of the people will either suggest a group of individuals in a spectator role or a community participating in the action.

A single unified space, rather than the two-room chancel/nave, best underscores the unity of God’s people by including both ministers and laity. The single space also helps eliminate the implication that God is more real in the area screened off from the people where the ministers conduct worship.

Edward A. Sovik suggests that we might see the entire worship space as a chancel rather than a remote part of the space. The liturgical centers—pulpit, font, and Table—would be dispersed throughout the space rather than placed together in a single area. Perhaps people then would more readily recognize that they are part of the liturgical action and not mere spectators. Sovik describes the concept:

It can be helpful if we will allow the space to have many foci so that the congregation can sometimes feel itself to be the center, and sometimes the pulpit, and sometimes the Table, and sometimes the choir, and sometimes the prayer desk, and sometimes the reading desk, and sometimes the baptismal font. And so we would allow the focus to move to wherever the action of the liturgy naturally takes it. This, it seems to me, could make liturgy and architecture companions in a much more effective way than they usually are. (Edward A. Sovik, “Fundamentals for Church Builders,” Your Church 7 [July–Sept. 1961]: 33)

Certainly the long, narrow nave, with people lined up row upon row in military fashion facing a distant chancel, does not contribute to a sense of community or participation. On the other hand, the semicircular arrangement does contribute to a sense of community, for it is the natural way people group themselves, as may be seen when a crowd gathers about a speaker in a public park. The semicircular arrangement helps us be aware of others and assists a group in being a community rather than a faceless crowd.

Even so, while worship’s corporate aspect is fundamental, we must not lose the sense of the holy in our zeal to recover a communal sense. To replace the former otherworldliness with mere sociability would be to move from one extreme to another. The church is a community, but it is a community bound together with its Lord. It is the body of Christ. There needs to be a balance between the sense of community and the sense of the holy.

Hospitality—Simplicity—Flexibility

A church building should express a true hospitality. It is a place for people. This is in keeping with the concept that the church is a household, the family of God. It should therefore convey warmth and not be cold or pompous. On the other hand, it must avoid an atmosphere of “clubiness” or living-room coziness in which God is thoroughly domesticated.

Contemporary liturgical architecture will also express a simplicity. Superfluous elements will be eliminated. The focus will be clearly upon the essentials. Churches are so often cluttered with nonessentials that the primary things are not readily recognized.

Contemporary liturgical architecture also demands a flexibility unknown in the past. The space for worship should accommodate different kinds of services in varying circumstances and occasions. Flexible seating and movable furnishings greatly aid this. Flexible space will also provide the extra benefit of accommodating other congregational activities, thereby enabling the congregation to more adequately fulfill its servant role. When the space for worship is also used in ways that support its mission to the community, the relationship of worship and service come into clearer focus.

In speaking of the need for simplicity and flexibility, one should not conclude that what is being described is the typical multipurpose hall, which is often erected as the first stage of a congregation’s activities. On the contrary, many of these buildings, designed to serve every function, end up serving none well and most poorly. A variety of functions are possible and desirable, but those functions need clear definition, and the space designed accordingly. Furthermore, there are numerous alternatives to the steel folding chairs once characteristic of first units. Seating is now available that is attractive, comfortable, interlocking, and stackable. (The desirability of flexible space is convincingly presented in Edward A. Sovik, Architecture for Worship [Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1973].)

A common problem with the minimal worship space of the typical first unit is that it does not help persons be sensitive to the numinous, to the mystery and majesty of God. Being devoid of the artistic and aesthetic qualities, they fail to point us beyond ourselves. Art mediates a sense of the numinous, because there is a kind of mystery in it which is truly beautiful. It transcends our rational ways of thinking and often moves us to wonder and awe. Beauty as well as truth and goodness are ingredients of our faith and are important to our being fully human.

Therefore, space that is ordinary, banal, or ugly fails to serve the Christian community adequately. We cannot afford to build spaces that dwarf the human spirit. The space for worship with its liturgical centers, together with the objects used in that space (e.g., the vessels used in the sacraments, the Bible itself, vestments, paraments), needs to be planned with artistic sensitivity. Care needs to be taken to avoid what is cheap, tasteless, or sentimental, for such fails to point us to God. Neither is there a place for elaborate ostentation. Simplicity and good taste should prevail. When worship space is artistically designed, embodies a proper balance of space and light, and speaks with theological and liturgical clarity, it will help lift us beyond ourselves.

Particularly important in liturgical space is the character of the liturgical centers—pulpit, font, and Table. These furnishings provide for the material objects that are essential to Christian worship.

Around these three centers the community of faith organizes its life of prayer and praise. These three centers not only fulfill their utilitarian purposes, but also symbolize the actions that are central to the life of the community. Even when they are not in use, they communicate something of the meaning of the actions they enable. Care should be taken therefore to ensure that each center clearly and unambiguously expresses the true nature of the action identified with it.

The Pulpit

Even though the proclamation of the Word is not dependent upon a pulpit, the pulpit is likely to remain as the principal place from which the Scriptures are read and the sermon is delivered. The presence of this liturgical center further symbolizes the centrality and authority of the Scripture in the life of the community of faith. As such, it should clearly express the authority of God.

Where should the pulpit be placed? In early Christian churches, the preacher delivered the sermon while seated on a throne behind the Table. During the late Middle Ages, a recovery of preaching by the mendicant friars resulted in pulpits being placed on the wall on the side of the nave. For much of post-Reformation history, in the Protestant tradition, the pulpit has dominated the space in front of the people, virtually eclipsing the Table and font.

Acoustics are the main consideration for the location of the pulpit. It is helpful when a wall is located immediately behind the pulpit to help amplify the voice. It is not such a great problem in a small building, but a wall at a considerable distance behind the preacher results in the sound of the voice being blurred. A pulpit placed too far forward may result in acoustical problems.

Perhaps the best location is against the wall, but off-center. It has been pointed out that a pulpit located off-center is about as effective acoustically as a central pulpit against the wall, provided the path of reflected sound is not over sixty feet longer than the path of direct sound (Ade Bethune and Thomas A. Drain, “Some Plans on Renovating the Sanctuary for the Renewed Liturgy,” Liturgical Arts 33 [Aug. 1965]: 108). Therefore, the acoustical advantages of a pulpit against the wall are not lost by moving it off-center away from the Table, thus freeing each liturgical center to possess its own space. Care should always be taken to avoid remoteness from the people.

At the same time, it is important in fan-shaped seating that the people are in front of the preacher rather than at the extreme left or right, and certainly not behind the preacher. Unless the people are in front of the preacher, they will not feel they are being addressed. A fan-shaped seating rather than a full horseshoe shape is preferable therefore since it avoids too sharp an angle at the sides of the preacher or celebrant at the Table. The preacher can comfortably address the entire congregation without undue awkwardness turning from side to side. Since the choir is also part of the congregation, it should not sit behind the preacher any more than any other portion of the congregation.

An attempt should be made to have the best acoustics possible, with the ideal being to eliminate the need for a public-address system. A public-address system detracts and makes rapport between preacher and congregation more difficult to achieve. If a public-address system is necessary, it should reinforce the voice without distorting it, with the microphones hidden from the view of the congregation.

The problem of acoustics goes beyond considerations about the pulpit. It is equally important to be able to hear those officiating at the Table and font. By giving proper attention to the acoustics of the entire space, a public-address system may not be needed except in the largest buildings. In an acoustically live building, voice, song, and musical instruments are stimulating.

The visibility is another consideration for the location of the pulpit. It should therefore be elevated sufficiently, so that the minister may be seen by everyone. However, it should not be so high that the minister is isolated from the people. Vertical separation is even more difficult to overcome than horizontal separation since it results in an awkward head angle for those seated near the pulpit.

The design of the pulpit should express a balance of intimacy between the preacher and people, on one hand, and the authority of the Word, on the other. If too large and dominant, the pulpit will convey a sense of hierarchical structure and undue austerity. Preaching then tends to become oratory, formal, and impersonal. On the other hand, an insignificant pulpit magnifies the preacher rather than the preacher’s role as minister of the Word. James A. Whyte points out that an insignificant pulpit tends to “destroy the sense of the rule of the word in the midst of the people” (James A. Whyte, “The Theological Basis of Church Architecture,” in Towards a Church Architecture, ed. by Peter Hammond [London: The Architectural Press, 1962], 108).

Practicality would require spaciousness in the area surrounding the pulpit to enable ample freedom of movement on the part of those participating in the liturgy. A movable pulpit is a distinct advantage to meet the needs of varying situations. Preaching is not the same for every worship occasion.

Care should be taken in the lighting of the pulpit. It is better to have some well-placed lights in the ceiling, illuminating the pulpit area as naturally as possible, than to have a small desk light to light up the manuscript (and the preacher’s stomach), a practice that often leaves the face in the dark. Often, pulpit lamps create glare and are never appealing visually. The light should not be so strong that the preacher cannot see the congregation. The preacher should not be in the spotlight as an actor on a stage. Establishing rapport requires that both congregation and minister see each other. Overhead lighting creates distorting shadows and should be avoided.

A clock built into the pulpit, visible only to the preacher, is a good feature. A small shelf out of view of the congregation to hold hymnal, service book, and papers is a convenience.

The pulpit should be designed so that the Bible is visible at all times during worship. The pulpit Bible, when not being read, can be placed in a niche or front panel on the face of the pulpit. Thus it has its own place of honor. A pulpit designed so that the Bible is its dominant feature will express the relationship between sermon and Scripture. This eliminates the preacher’s manuscript being shuffled on top of the opened Bible or closing the Bible and tucking it away on a shelf in the pulpit. In recommending that the Bible have a place of honor, Theodor Filthaut, a Roman Catholic, writes that the place provided

ought always to manifest that love and veneration which are paid to the book as the instrument of God’s word. Then too, the cabinet or shelf ought to be constructed in such a way that the book (which like the receptacle ought to possess artistic value) can be seen by the faithful. This book does not serve for the perusal of casual visitors. It should be looked upon as a sign of the presence of God’s word in the church. This would give clear expression to the fact that the church is not only a church of the sacrament, but also of the word. (Theodor Filthaut, Church Architecture and Liturgical Reform [Baltimore: Helicon Press, 1968], 65.)

The Bible itself, the quality of its binding, its size, and visual appeal, should say that this book is of great significance for Christians. It is through the sacred Scriptures that we hear the Word of God. The Bible shapes our faith and the way we live. No small hand Bible or paperback edition can visually communicate the centrality that the Scriptures have in Christian worship. We tend to respond causally to whatever is treated casually. We could learn a great deal from the respect Jews give to the scrolls and the way they are used in synagogue worship.

As is common in Scotland, the Bible might be brought into the assembly during an entrance or processional hymn, and then enthroned in its place of honor. It is important that the Bible carried in procession or enthroned in a place of honor be the same Bible whose pages are opened and from which the lessons of the day read.

A pulpit of significance is located in First Presbyterian Church, Lawrence, Kansas. It is approximately seven feet wide with a book rest of approximately six feet in length. Behind the pulpit is a sounding board in the form of a plain wall that extends upward toward the ceiling for about twenty feet. It is about nine feet wide and is painted white. In the upper right corner of the sounding board is a single-column speaker for amplification. It has a pleasing appearance against the dark brick color of the interior of the room. The sounding board is used as a projection screen. Space is provided in the pulpit for an overhead projector, which is sealed from view when not in use. This space for proclamation thus provides for a variety of forms of proclamation.

Whereas a pulpit has a clear and important function, a lectern is not essential to worship. When a lectern is used for reading the Scripture and the preaching is from a pulpit, a division between the reading and preaching is suggested. In ordering worship, preaching and the reading of the lessons should not be separated. Preaching is to immediately follow the readings, thereby underscoring the interdependent relationship of one with the other. Just as this is true in ordering worship, it is equally true for the spatial arrangements. The reading of Scripture and preaching should be from a single-center, the pulpit.

Although a lectern is unnecessary, there are occasions when a speaker’s stand other than the pulpit is desirable. A portable lectern, attractive in design and made to harmonize with the other furnishings, could be provided for such occasions and can be placed when and where needed.

In building or renovating worship space, it is important to anticipate the space needed for a variety of appropriate proclamation forms such as the dialogue sermon, drama, dance, and audiovisual presentations. Although nothing can fully replace a pastor who lovingly interprets the Word to the people, proclamation need not always be in the form of monologue.

Unencumbered space is required for movement and drama. Movable furniture is also desirable, so that it may be relocated as the need emerges. If movable seating is utilized, the entire space can be adapted, as the need requires, to accommodate the varied forms of proclamation. Nevertheless, it is desirable that the space around the Table and the pulpit in its usual arrangement be open and spacious, unencumbered and uncrowded. Thus, other forms may be easily provided for without the need to move the pulpit and Table.

Lighting is again an important consideration in planning for other forms of proclamation. A theatrical appearance should be avoided. An audiovisual room might be located nearby to enable simultaneous projections and to provide for ease in using tapes and recordings. Where a room is not possible, convenient and adequate electrical outlets need to be provided for both power and sound. The projectors may be hidden from view of the congregation by well-placed banners. A white wall surface is desirable, which would eliminate the need for setting up portable screens, which are always intrusive. Speakers need to be built in at appropriate places for the best acoustical effects. The use of audiovisuals may require that some windows be neatly and easily darkened. The space needs to be radiant with light, symbolizing resurrection joy, but should also have the ability to control the light easily and to direct it where it is wanted.

Those responsible for planning the space need to anticipate the various forms that are to be accommodated and build flexibility into the structure that will free the space for use in a variety of ways.

The Font

The space for baptism is too often the neglected liturgical center. Many churches have no visible evidence that baptism is practiced. It is central to Christian worship because it is through a washing with water in the name of the Trinity that one is initiated into the Christian community. This sacrament is a clear sign of God’s grace, of our cleansing from sin, of our dying and rising with Christ, of our incorporation into the body of Christ, and of the gift of the Holy Spirit. All that the gospel means is focused on this sacrament. The font with its surrounding space, the baptistry, should therefore serve more than the utilitarian function of accommodating the ritual washing. It should be the ever-present symbol of Christian initiation.

Given the centrality of this sacrament, where should the place of baptism be located? What should the font be like in order to give baptism the prominence it merits?

In early centuries, Christians built separate buildings to accommodate baptism. Later, fonts were placed in alcoves at the entrance to the nave. Since the Reformation, Protestants have usually baptized persons before the congregation with fonts located near the pulpit and Table.

The communal dimensions of baptism would rule out a separate building for us. It would also rule out an enclosed space in the narthex. In neither location could baptism be celebrated in the presence of the congregation, nor could the people participate.

Nevertheless, when baptism is celebrated at or near the entrance of the nave, it becomes a strong symbol of entry into the body of Christ. There are ways of locating the place of baptism at the entrance without sacrificing the presence and participation of the congregation. The limitations can be overcome if there is no wall separating the baptismal space from the worship room. The removal of the wall would be an economic advantage in making the space serve double duty as an entry and as an open space to accommodate people gathered around the font for the baptism.

Another possibility would be to provide a space for baptism between the narthex and the worship room. Worshipers would pass through the baptismal space as they enter to worship. Any drawbacks hindering a communal celebration of baptism would be reduced if the walls between the baptistry and the worship room were quite open in design.

Perhaps a better alternative would be to locate the place of baptism within the worship room itself. We are quite familiar with the provision of space near the Table and pulpit. The advantage of this location is that people can see, hear, and participate in the sacrament. However, even though the Reformers chose this location to emphasize incorporation into the community, it does not clearly convey this. Nor is the relationship of baptism to the Eucharist and the Word read and preached conveyed simply by placing the font in close proximity to the pulpit and Table. Furthermore, clustering the liturgical centers together results in little movement in worship and contributes to confusing focal points.

There is great symbolic strength in restoring the baptistry to a position at the major entrance into the nave, but preferably inside the worship room. It can be located at the side of the entrance, although a clearer symbolism is conveyed when the font is placed in a space between the door and the seating space, where worshipers must pass around it as they enter. The Christians of the community may be reminded repeatedly of their own baptism through which they entered the Christian community.

The importance of the sacrament is emphasized if sufficient space is provided around the font, enabling part of the congregation to move in procession to it for the baptism. The rest of the congregation could still see, hear, and participate by standing and turning to face the baptistry. Movable seating would be a distinct advantage so that space could be opened up as needed. A baptistry located in this position does not compete with the pulpit and Table. It has its own appropriate space and is able to maintain its own distinct integrity. The relationship of baptism to the Eucharist and the reading and interpreting of Scripture is clearly seen. Baptism is recognized as the way we enter into that community where the Scripture and Eucharist mark the continuing style of the Christian life.

Some efforts have been made to locate the font in the center of the main aisle in the midst of the seating space. This may also symbolize entry into the community, but such an arrangement tends to be crowded and may unduly separate the seating areas. It also can accommodate only a few people at the font, unless movable seating can provide flexibility for baptismal occasions.

There have also been attempts to symbolize the entrance motif of the sacrament in front of the congregation. In these buildings, the font is the first liturgical center seen upon entering, even though the font is actually located in front of the people.

In one such building, the font is located near the pulpit and Table but is on an outside aisle leading from the entrance. It is directly visible as one enters the door from the narthex, since the doors open at the corner of the room. A small room above the aisle lowers the ceiling between the entrance and the baptistry, thereby leading one’s eye directly through an area of reduced light to the font which is bathed in light from a glass wall on the side of the nave. Neither the Lord’s Table nor the pulpit is visible from the entrance. They come into view as one enters the seating space. (This church, St. George, Rugby, England, is described, together with the plan, in J. G. Davies, The Architectural Setting of Baptism [London: Barrie Rockliff, 1962], 155. This book is particularly valuable in tracing the history of baptismal space and the ways the contemporary church is providing for baptism. It is well illustrated.)

Another example combines both the symbolism of entrance with baptism before the people by having an indirect path into the nave. “Along the route one passes a pair of glass doors which open on the baptismal font and allow a glimpse of the chancel area and worship space beyond the font.” (“An Inner City Mission Church,” Faith and Form 1, Special Issue, p. 19. It is a description of Emmanuel Presbyterian Church, Chicago, Illinois.) The font is associated thereby with the entrance, while still being located before the assembled congregation.

Together with the baptistry being located in an open space between the major door and the pews or at the entrance to the space occupied by the worshipers, these examples successfully combine the symbolism of entrance, while still providing an opportunity for the congregation to hear, see, and participate. If the font is to be located in relation to the pulpit and Table in a manner similar to these examples, it should not compete with the Lord’s Table and the pulpit. Each will have its own distinct space. The greater advantage may still be to locate the font away from the pulpit and Table releasing each liturgical center for its own unique action.

There is something to be said in favor of a baptistry in which one must step down into the font area. Stepping down symbolizes identification with Christ’s death and burial. Stepping upward after baptism symbolizes rising with Christ to newness of life. Where this is done, some sort of railing is needed for safety reasons. A paschal candle located in relationship to the baptistry is a reminder of baptismal resurrection. It is appropriate that the baptismal space have artistic beauty. Light streaming through colored glass could further symbolize new birth and new life. Provision for kneeling should be made for the baptism of older children and adults.

The font, set within its own unique space, should be of significant prominence, of ample size and visibility, denoting the importance of baptism. It should not resemble a Victorian birdbath in which the font is insignificant, and especially the kind in which a small glass dish is used in the rite.

The font should be made of stone, marble, ceramic, cement, or some other durable material that is not damaged by water drippings. Because wood is damaged by water, wooden fonts should be avoided. Carvings, relief design, mosaic, or other artistic expression may depict various aspects of the sacrament’s meaning.

The font should be convenient to use for adults, children, or infants. The basin portion should be a minimum of two feet in diameter, which will facilitate easily the pouring of water into it, the scooping of a generous amount of water out of it, and the dipping of an infant into it. (A noteworthy example is the font in St. Richard Church, Jackson, Mississippi, pictured in Frank Kacmarcik, “The Berakah Award for 1981,” Worship 55 [1981]: 377.)

An effective provision for baptism in one church is a large ceramic basin about two feet in diameter. The basin and a matching pitcher are placed on a table at the entrance to the worship space. There they remind the faithful of their own baptism as they enter. This arrangement provides flexibility in use, enabling a variety of locations for the baptismal action. The basin can be moved to the midst of the people for baptism, and then placed once more at the main door. The baptismal vessels should be prominent, in the direct path into the worship space, and thereby obvious to all who enter.

Since immersion is the most dramatic use of water in baptism, forcefully portraying our dying and rising with Christ, some congregations may want a font that is large enough for the immersion of an adult. It is important to keep in mind that a large font can accommodate a variety of modes of baptism, whereas a small font will allow only limited use of water and will be unduly confining.

The font should speak clearly that it is a receptacle for water. Water is clearly the important feature of large fonts and in fonts that are designed so that water recirculates. In this last font, water is seen and heard when entering worship, since it always contains live, running water symbolizing new life. To see and hear the baptismal water when one enters to worship is a reminder of our own baptism and all the meanings associated with it. (A fine example of such a font is in the United Methodist Church, St. Charles, Iowa, pictured in E. A. Sovik, Architecture for Worship, 94.) In small fonts, the font itself as a furnishing tends to become the focus rather than the water in it.

Aids for administering the sacrament would include an ewer, or pitcher, for pouring water into the font (if water is not in the font at all times) and a baptismal shell for use when pouring water over the head of the candidate. The ewer can also be used to pour water over the head of the candidate leaning over the font. The water, as it is poured, falls over the head and into the basin of the font. A generous amount of water should be used, so that it may be seen and heard. This sacrament calls for more than just a dampening of the forehead. The generous use of water will more clearly indicate that baptism is a washing. As a part of the baptistry, a ledge is desirable to accommodate the service book, ewer, shell, and towels.

Drama is heightened when parents, family, and friends form a procession to the font for the baptism and stand with the ones being baptized. If water is not in the font at all times, it may be poured into the font during the rite, immediately prior to the prayer preceding the actual baptism. (Suggestions for baptismal practice are developed in Harold M. Daniels, “Celebrating Baptism,” in Worship in the Community of Faith, ed. by Harold M. Daniels [Louisville: The Joint Office of Worship, 1982].)

The importance of baptism will be more readily recognized when it has its own space with a font of significant proportion and design is celebrated in a liturgy that is sensory in character and unfolds baptism’s manifold meanings.

The Lord’s Table

The Lord’s Table, set in the midst of the assembled congregation, visually symbolizes week by week the presence of Christ in the midst of the faith community. This symbol of Christ’s presence also speaks of the community that Christ inaugurated, which gathers around the Table on each Lord’s day. E. A. Sovik points out that the Communion table is the symbol of the family of Christians, just as the dining table is our strongest symbol of being one when we are gathered at mealtime at home. The meal we have together around the Communion table provides us with our strongest sense of unity as the family of the Lord. (E. A. Sovik, “A Portfolio of Reflections on the Design of Northfield Methodist Church,” Your Church 13 [Sept.–Oct., 1967]: 53-54.)

The Table should be free-standing, enabling the celebrant to officiate from behind it. Reformed Christians have insisted upon the fact that the Communion table is a table and not an altar. It should, therefore, look like a table, preferably with central support and with a top that extends well over the edges of the support to assure the graceful draping of the linen. The top needs to provide adequate space for all of the Communion vessels and the service book. The length and width ought to be in proportion to the area in which it is located. Six to eight feet long is probably ample; the standard height is from 36 to 42 inches. It should be constructed as perfectly as possible from the finest materials.

It is desirable for the Table to be movable. This would make possible varying placements of the Table in celebrating the Lord’s Supper and would be adaptable to different circumstances and occasions.

Art used in the Table and in its environs should enhance the sacramental action, ensuring that the artistry does not detract from the action. Artistic Communion vessels can convey the importance to the occasion and enhance a sense of the holy. The Table and its setting should foster a joyous, festive spirit, for the Eucharist is “the joyous feast of the people of God.”

The Table needs to stand in equal prominence to the pulpit. When constructed of the same material and design as the pulpit, it will imply the unity of the Word in Scripture with the Word in the sacrament. If placed in the center of light concentration, it will help focus the attention of the people. However, the lighting should not isolate the Table from the congregation.

The Table should be fully visible to the congregation at all times. In many churches built about the turn of the twentieth century, the Communion table lacks prominence. When the Table is placed on the floor in front of the pulpit, one is aware of it only when walking down the center aisle. Too often it is the place to put flowers and offering plates, obscuring its purpose.

When raised on a low platform, the Communion table can be seen over the heads of the congregation. One step ordinarily suffices, especially if the congregation is seated in a semicircular configuration around the Table, rather than in a long narrow nave. Certainly, no more than three steps are needed, not raising it to a point that it is isolated from the people, thereby making it a “holy island.” If more than one step is used, they should be broad, inviting easy access. If the design features the pulpit, Table, and font across the front of the room, the steps ought to extend from wall to wall. If the Table is extended into the midst of the people, the steps should surround the platform on three sides.

It should be self-evident that the Table is the Table of the congregation. It must be accessible with no rail separating it from the people. The Table should not appear to be set on a stage but impress the congregation by standing in its midst. Obviously, identification with the Table is much more readily achieved if it is central, with the congregation sitting around it. This conveys a sense of involvement in the action of the Supper. The pastor celebrating from behind the Table is a reminder that the Lord is in the midst of the congregation. Generous space around the Table will facilitate freedom of movement on all sides. The people must be so related to the Table that there is a rapport with the celebrant, but not so close that the space about it becomes crowded.

It is preferable that the people receive the sacrament at the Table rather than merely being in its presence. To receive the sacrament at the Table involves one’s choosing to take the bread and wine, rather than being passively served. In standing around the Table people more readily sense their place within the family of God.

The manner in which the Lord’s Table is used should clearly speak of the character of the sacrament. Therefore, only those articles used in the eucharistic liturgy—the Communion vessels with the bread and wine, and the service book—should be placed on the Table. Whenever such things as flowers, a cross, and a large, open Bible are placed on the Table, making it a shrine to focus the attention of the congregation, the primacy of the Supper is dissipated. Candles may be set on stands around the Table. Flowers may be placed elsewhere in stands. A cross may be located on the wall behind the Table or suspended above the Table. The Bible should be associated with the pulpit where it is read and interpreted.

Offering plates should have their own place apart from the Table. To place them on the Table confuses the nature of the sacrament. The sacrament should speak clearly that God’s grace is prior to our response, that it is God who takes the initiative. It is therefore preferable that another place other than the Table be provided for the offering, such as a credence Table or a shelf near the Table.

It is appropriate that the Lord’s Table be used for all portions of the service, except the reading and interpretation of Scripture. This was Calvin’s practice. The Table is a more appropriate place for prayer than the pulpit, the place of proclamation. An alternate possibility is to lead the confession of sin and the prayers of the people in the midst of the congregation. Such practice clearly conveys that these are the people’s prayers.

The Lord’s Table should be treated with the respect entitled it. Although we do not make it a fetish or place it under a taboo, we do expect that the Table be respected. It ought not be a place for coats or piles of music during choir rehearsal, a convenience to Sunday School teachers for their lesson materials, a countertop for ushers to count the offering, or a station for tellers to count ballots. It is true that it is only a table, but it is the appointed place to set forth the clear sign of God’s grace-filled acts. Respect for the place of sacramental activity naturally flows from a deep appreciation of the significance of the sacrament itself, for which it is the sign. The Lord’s Table will stand in our midst as a clear sign of God’s presence only when it is allowed to express simply, clearly, and without ambiguity the Supper, which is central to the life of worship.

Summary

The reading and interpretation of Scripture, baptism, and the Lord’s Supper are the indispensable actions of Christian liturgy. Around these three actions, the church orders its prayer and praise. Since each action is central to the church’s life, the pulpit, font, and Table are to be given prominence. In order for the essential character of Christian worship to be clearly seen, without distortion or ambiguity, each center is to be designed with great care. Each needs its own separate and uncrowded space. No single center should dominate, deny, or distort the significance of the others. The locations ought to express both the distinctiveness of each as well as their unity and interdependence. The space for worship should clearly say that it is through baptism that one enters the community, which is continuously nourished by Scripture and Eucharist.

More than anything else about a building, these three liturgical centers aid in our growth in Christ and help root us in the essentials of the faith. As parts of the actions they enable, these centers can assist us to understand the meaning of the gospel, to shape us into a Christian community, and to keep before us the essential character of Christian worship. They can do this only when they are carefully designed, shaped by the liturgical action, informed by solid theology, and in continuity with historical tradition.