Tuesday, April 4, 2017

Let Your Light So Shine Before Others: Placement of Font and Paschal Candle as Sources of Controversy

Part of We Sing the Glories of This Pillar of Fire, a series on the use of the paschal candle throughout the liturgical year.

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One astounding result of the Liturgical Movement has been the renewed emphasis on an embodied sacramental theology. The Sacraments are no longer hidden away: lay Catholics are offered the Chalice; liturgical Protestants are moving towards weekly celebration of the Eucharist; real bread is offered at the Altar. The emphasis on lay participation has led to a wonderfully tangible liturgy.

Baptistery
Pisa, Italy
The renewed sacramental emphasis has also led to a more prominent place for the Font (and with it, the paschal candle). Many parishes have moved the Font out of the corner, taken the lid off, and kept water in it throughout the week. It's no longer a bird bath hauled out of storage when needed but a permanent furnishing on par with the Altar. In so many ways, these developments have produced good fruit. I have seen Lutheran laity, unbidden, approach the Font, dip their fingers in, and make the sign of the cross -- a sign that is still viewed by some as suspiciously Roman but is, nevertheless, becoming more commonplace. Granting more prominence position to our baptismal furnishings starts us down the path to more fully remembering and living into our baptismal identities.

Important though this development is, we have inadvertently brought upon ourselves a new issue. In many parishes, the old designs are still in place. The building was crafted without a permanent baptismal space. In many places, the solution has been to put the Font up front, either in the chancel or at the front of the nave (in what would have been the transept in larger churches). It's easy to understand why: during the Sacrament of Baptism, the assembly can see what's happening without having to awkwardly turn around in the pews. The Font and the Altar are right up front, meaning that the preacher can easily gesture towards both of them and all liturgical action looks forward in the same direction. On a practical level, it makes a certain amount of sense: the Sacrament and its accompanying furnishings are made plainly visible.

Baptistery, Interior
Pisa, Italy
It's worth noting that there are options other than putting the Font in storage or placing it in or near the chancel. In older times, the Font would be placed in a separate room or even in a separate building. Note in the photo above: at the Pisa cathedral, the baptistery is physically distinct from the cathedral itself. The cathedral in Florence follows a similar pattern, as does Saint John's Lateran in Rome. At the cathedral in Speyer (Germany), the original baptismal font is in the crypt. These chambers had large Fonts -- of such size that adults could be baptized by immersion. Baptism in these contexts featured a large procession -- following the ancient pattern of the Great Vigil of Easter.

More modern buildings have followed the pattern but in a more compact form. At Saint John's Abbey in Collegeville (Minnesota), the baptistery is located in the narthex, and a large set of doors separates the Front from the central nave. The Roman Catholic cathedrals in Savannah (Georgia) houses its Font at the back of the nave. [Edit: Mount Olive Lutheran in Minneapolis, MN and Ebeneezer in Columbia, SC have also placed their Fonts near the narthex.] Entering the church through the center doors, then, Christians are reminded that entry into the Church flows from the Font towards the Altar. In arranging the furnishings, we invite Christians to remember their entry into the Body of Christ through the Sacrament of Baptism as they venture forward to receive the Body of Christ in the Sacrament of Holy Communion.

This arrangement rubs us the wrong way. We like to stay stationary. If something is worth looking at, it happens up front, just like at a lecture, play, or concert. Moving the Font out of the chancel towards the narthex means people would have to get up, to move around. To be honest, we're lucky if we can get them to face the Cross or the Gospel during processions -- to say nothing of being in the procession themselves. But as Pfatteicher says in his Manual on the Liturgy:
Too often the font is located in a corner or set in the chancel so that it can be seen (as if the chancel were a stage on which all the action takes place.) In a Christian church the is not one place of action (the chancel) and seats for the audience (congregation). There is room in which the people of God do their service, and in this room the focus shifts as the service progresses. [p. 150-51]
In our attempts to emphasize Baptism, we risk inadvertently re-enforcing the message that important events take place "up front" as opposed to throughout the entire space. In many places, we have bolted ourselves to the floor, just like our pews.

Notice, though, that I say we risk re-enforcing the stage/performance mentality. My concern is that the Font be prominently placed and remain stationary: numerous configurations, if done well, permit the sort of sacramental emphasis essential to Christian liturgy. Just so, any and every configuration has its certain risks. If I may be so bold, the one absolute rule I would posit is this: the Font, once placed, does not move. Our seating may move around it, just as our lives revolve around our baptismal identity, but the Font and Altar stay put; they are permanent features in an ever-shifting world.

Baptismal Font
Saint John's Lateran, Rome
Why am I spending so much time talking about where we put the Font? Because outside of Easter and funerals, the paschal candle stands next to the Font. As soon as we put the Font up front, we raise an issue: why do we light all of the candles in the chancel area except for one? Our decisions about architecture and design have subtle but far-reaching implications; in moving the Font, we have changed how the paschal candle is perceived. The candle became more prominent, and so did its darkness throughout the year. We have moved a large, ornate candle to the foreground, but we rarely light it. It's no wonder, then, that pastors, altar guilds, and acolytes are so uncertain about its meaning, "special-ness," and function. The paschal candle would be, in practical terms, a non-issue in other configurations. Its unlit wick would be less prominent in the narthex. We would not risk an over-eager acolyte or altar guild member rushing out to light the one that "got missed."

I realize I'm thinking of configuration in practical terms, but there is a reason for that. The paschal candle is a sign: it points to something else. As with vestments and manual acts, the candle's importance comes from the practical matter of how it is seen. The paschal candle's significance comes, at least in part, from how it is displayed and thus how it is understood. If it is the lone, unlit candle surrounded by flame and electric light, prominently displayed week in and week out, it will be understood differently than the candle illuminated every time its environment (the baptistery) is used.

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