Philotheos

The Problem of Dipping Infants

I was recently in two old Anglican Churches and as always was fascinated by the visible architectural history. In Lancaster Priory, the effect of the Tractarians was clearly visible, confirmed by a very old photograph of the plainer Evanglical set-up from the 1800s. One of the more interesting aspects was the size of the old fonts.

Also at Lancaster Priory there were two fonts. The newer font had a rather grandiose 17th century lid (see below), but from the height. width, and thickness of the walls of the new stone font, it was clear that it was intended only as a receptacle for water rather than the reception of anything much larger. The font is newer than the cover, dated to 1858.

However, the interesting thing was hidden away, at the time behind an oversized Nativity, in a hole which was evidently formerly a staircase (black oval). In that gap, like a tragic rejected son, was a much larger and apparently more ancient font haphazardly stored which had suffered a significant blow and whose wall on one side was collapsed. This font, however, was much lower and considerably wider than the modern 19th century font. It seems clear to me that it was intended to receive the infant whole. Given the age of the Priory, it was likely cut between 1100–1500.

This is a similar story to a Church I visited on account of its notorious Bishop-elect presiding. The font was likewise comparatively sizeable, and old. It is dated to at least ~1550.

In the 1552 Book of Common Prayer, the rubrics for the carrying out of Holy Baptism are thus:

¶ Then the Priest shal take the childe in his handes, and aske the name: and naming the chyld, shal dippe it in the water, so it be discretely and warely done, sayinge.

N. I Baptyse thee in the name of the father, and of the sonne, and of the holy ghost. Amen.

¶ And yf the child be weke, it shall suffyce to power water upon it sayinge the foresayde wordes.

N. I Baptyse thee in the name of the father, and of the sonne, and of the holy ghost. Amen.

Thus the default form of the rite is dipping, though sprinkling is permitted out of charity for a weak infant. This is not disimilar to the order in the Didache where immersion in running water is ideal, but various other options are also given if necessity demand it.

The form of 1552 is also retained in the 1662, still the standard for Anglican faith and practice:

¶ And then naming it after them (if they ſhall certify him that the Child may well endure it) he ſhall dip it in the Water diſcreetly and warily, ſaying,

“I baptize thee in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghoſt. Amen.”

¶ But if they certify that the Child is weak, it ſhall ſuffice to pour Water upon it, ſaying the foreſaid words,

“I baptize thee in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghoſt. Amen.”

Great, so dipping is the standard for infant baptism in England up into the 17th century. But all of the fonts I see which are newer than this (the new Priory font being an example) seem to be too small for this to be safely administered. And, indeed, I have never actually seen or heard of a baby being dipped in such a service. I’m not sure whether many Anglican priests would even be aware of this standard. In the most recent (attempted) baptism I saw, the babe barely achieved a damp smudge because his incessant strong wriggling overpowered the priestess—an argument in motion if I ever witnessed one.

Can you think of a reason why dipping infants in holy water may be problematic?

My current reading for pleasure is the Monumenta Ritualia Ecclesiae Anglicanae of Maskell. On page 14 of volume 1, in an extract taken from the occasional offices of the Church of Salisbury, we read in footnote 17 attached to the rite of renewal of the holy water the following direction:

“Infans in fontem si stercoret, ejice lympham. Si tantum mingat, non moveatur aqua.” Rubr. Man. Ebor.

Yep: babies are wont to poop. I do not know it yet, but I have a hunch that up through the 19th century such would be so unmannerly and quasi-scandalous—socially as much as theologically—that the risk of it was better avoided, prompting a transition to a universal practice of sprinkling.

At least there is no show that it is the theologically superior mode unlike we must suffer from other quarters. Still, would that they would revive the older practice.