Baptism: The Ultimate Entrance

During the last class*, the sacrament of Baptism came up in our discussion.  Professor Fulton Brown brought up the case of the Christianization of the Saxons during the reign of Charlemagne.  Many Saxons had been forcefully baptized; religious figures like Alcuin of York lamented this decision, arguing that the Saxons should have been persuaded to voluntarily join the church instead (From Judgement to Passion 19).  We were then asked how many of us had been baptized; nearly all of us (including myself) raised our hands.  Those of us who hadn’t been baptized were asked how they would feel if they were.  Why would it matter so much?  Why would it be important to do it the "right” way, and why might doing it the “wrong” way inspire so much resistance on the part of non-believers?

    In the physical sense, Baptism can be described as simply being sprinkled with or immersed in water.  It can also be seen as a ritual that reenacts the Baptism of Jesus as described in the Gospels.  Christians tend to view it as a purifying ritual, although there are denominational disputes concerning what exactly is cleansed and to what extent cleansing occurs.  However, as Professor Fulton Brown was explaining, this isn’t the whole story, at least not to most Christians.  The significance of this ritual, as with the Eucharist, goes even deeper.  For one thing, Baptism can represent the convert’s (or the infant’s) formal entrance into a new community for them - the church.  

    I was actually baptized twice, once as an infant and once as a 10-year-old.  The first time, I was brought into an Episcopalian church because my mother intermittently attended services there.  The second time, I was baptized as a convert - I had been attending services at an Eastern Orthodox Church in my hometown and felt that the faith called to me.  I don’t remember my first baptism, but I remember feeling strongly that I was joining a community on my second occasion.    I was already building up relationships with many of the worshipers, including the Priest; likewise, I had been learning about aspects of the faith.  However, there was still a barrier between us in that I could not partake in Communion because I had not been baptized as an Orthodox Christian.  This changed with my second baptism, as I was able to take Communion that very day.  It was a powerful moment for me - being able to participate in this way drove home the fact that I was no longer an outsider, neither formally nor informally.

    Like I did, I imagine that many other converts view this entrance into the congregation of their small-c church as a meaningful thing.  Still, focusing on this aspect of conversion also fails to fully capture why Baptism matters so much.  It leaves open the question of why the unbaptized are not allowed to participate in sacraments like the Eucharist.  In pondering this question, thinking about Baptism as one’s entrance into the big-c Church as well has been helpful for me.  That is to say that Baptism signifies the establishment of a new connection or relationship with Christ himself.

    Guido of Monte Rochen makes this argument in his discussion on the Eucharist, asserting that Baptism represents a spiritual (re)birth just as the Eucharist represents spiritual food (Handbook for Curates 43).  If the Eucharist can be seen as an activity that reinforces and nourishes a Communion between God and his believers, Baptism can be seen as the entrance into said Communion.  Moreover, Guido helps explain why entering Communion in this way is necessary.  In his section on who should receive the Eucharist, Guido excludes nonbelievers, children, and the mentally ill (unless they are lucid and express a desire to receive it).  In his view, they would not benefit from doing so; it would be a futile exercise for nonbelievers, while children and the mentally ill would not be able to appreciate the spiritual and sacramental significance of this meal (Handbook for Curates 78 and 81).   We can extend this to the process of Baptism; those who have not been baptized might not benefit from the Eucharist in the same way that a baptized and confirmed member of the Church would because the sacramental and spiritual groundwork for this Communion with God would not be present for them.

    This isn’t to say that I view Guido’s words on this subject as gospel (he elsewhere claims that those who get baptized twice should legally be executed, and I’m not the biggest fan of that proposition) (Handbook for Curates 42), but I do think his work cuts to the heart of the matter.  For one to pursue the relationship with God that the Eucharist is meant to maintain, they must make the necessary preparations and understand what this relationship entails.  Afterwards, they must decide that they want to pursue it in their heart.  The same is true with Baptism, and this is why consent (infant baptism notwithstanding) matters so much in the process of converting to Christianity.  

    Charlemagne’s armies were able to overwhelm the Saxons and forcefully baptize many of them.  In the absence of persuasion, however, this “conversion” was inauthentic, and therefore useless (from the theologians’ perspectives at least) for these people.  For these “converts” themselves, forced Baptism would have only been an exit - a forced abandonment of their old faith and a potential cause for ostracism on the parts of their fellow Saxons.  On the other hand, if the Saxons were persuaded to see Christ as a savior and willingly joined the church on that basis, it would have made Baptism a much more positive experience for them.  For those like Alcuin or Guido, then, the missionary’s goal is to encourage the people to view Baptism not as an exit, but instead as the ultimate entrance. 

-WJC

*Apologies for the tardiness.  This post was meant for our class on the Last Supper.