In the eyes of many, rituals constitute a riddle. Many people do not understand what makes rituals work and how the doing of rituals is essential to reaching specific goals. In other words, what are rituals and what do they do? Social ethnography, anthropology, and the comparative study of religions consider rituals as the dynamic core of social and religious systems. From tribal groups to fully developed religious systems, rituals play a major role in making the respective systems work. However, rituals are also vital for the orderly functioning of bureaucratic organizations and structures. Whether these rituals are agreed upon or prescribed by an accepted authority, they are a major factor in bringing people together in a working coherence. In other words, rituals create and maintain social systems.
Rituals consist of stylized ceremonial events. They evolve in strict and repetitive protocols. Among them one finds rich displays of colors (e.g., garments [uniforms], insignia, flags), instrumental and vocal music, and a variety of physical gestures (e.g., parades, stylized exercises). One may view these protocols as the bureaucracy of rituals, each of them consisting of a purposive “cosmos” (Handelman 1990).
A starting point in assessing rituals and figuring out a relevant ritual theory is the notion that rituals constitute a major component in human behavior, in general. In other words, many forms of human activity unfold as structured forms of behavior that come into purposive effect by doing an orderly sequence of purposefully detailed acts. The bureaucracy of ritual protocols constitutes structured segments that obey an inner logic of functional organization. Together these segments compose the processual dynamic that unfolds as a ritually configured whole.
It follows, then, that the discussion of rituals and ritual theory is best undertaken in the context of behavioral factors. That is, rituals are best discussed in terms of what is done, how it is done, and what existential and anthropological functions the actions are expected to accomplish. In our view, the ideological and theological concerns that accompany rituals do not account for the performance aspects of rituals. In disciplinary terms, anthropology with an eye on socio-psychological issues (mainly group and identity formation) is the adequate platform for the study and scholarly assessment of rituals.
Since ritual patterns of behavior can also be found among animals, most conspicuously in connection with sexual mating, rituals call for a rather broad spectrum of considerations. In the case of human beings, rituals engage more complex behavioral considerations than in what seem to be the instinctive drives of animals. The study of rituals can be done in two complementary ways: by observing live rituals or by studying texts that contain ritual prescriptions and guidelines. In both cases, not all the needed details of what is done and how become clear. This article focusses on written documentations of rituals and the special research attitudes, which are preferably applied in their study.
To begin with, the textual study involves several considerations that relate to the verisimilitude of the source materials. Various configurations that reflect diverse forms of specific rituals come to light, however without the needed information about the changes involved in the doing practices. One notable example, in this respect, is the sequence of sacrificial acts prescribed in the Book of Leviticus. To the outsider, non-initiated readers to which modern scholars in this case belong, there is no conceivable logic in the changes between the handling of one sacrifice and the other. They are all presented as part of a divine law that concerns the priests doing their worship in the sanctuary. Taking into consideration the fact that textual evidence can render only in a curtailed manner the details under discussion, it is almost impossible to reach a full assessment of the relevant materials.
In this respect, additional considerations are often called into play. They often come, as they will in the major example discussed in the following pages, from the direction of interpretive sources, some of which use comparative materials. For example, in the case of the New Testament scholars argue that the underlying source material can be found in the Greek speaking world. Others contend that the New Testament is best understood and explained in the context of its Jewish background and parallels. Whether the New Testament is basically viewed in a Greek or a Jewish context depends on several factors, not least among them the linguistic access to the relevant sources and, to a non-negligible extent, on ideological factors.
Viewed from a behavioral angle, rituals are extensions of the human mind. They reflect a specific inclination on the part of the group or the individual to express themselves in structured and purposive forms of behavior, rather than, or instead of, ideas. Evidently, religious rituals engage unique spectra and complex layers of such behavior. In many cases, rituals are sustained by a link to a story in a mythic context. In other words, myth is a story that links and sustains a ritual. In the mythic context, rituals make a culture-related point. They are shared by a concerned and involved community, creating complex notions of social identity and cohesion.
However, simple, everyday, ritualized forms of behavior do not necessarily link to a myth and to its social connections. Admittedly, when requested to do so, the person who does that ritual is likely to tell a story or give his personal reason and explanation, that is, he tells a “personal myth.” It is a myth, because it does not have to stand the test of verisimilitude and logical verification. Personal rituals have an individual truth, their own “ideology,” that is, they are not necessarily told to be practically shared with or by other people.
Religious rituals, though, are by definition shared by a community. More than any other ritual, religious rituals create group cohesion (Gruenwald 2003). In their special context, religious rituals are reinforced with theological stances. Apart from their function in establishing social identity, rituals create notions of (bureaucratic) hierarchy and social stratification. At the same time, rituals are functional in maintaining social diversity and ideological differences, even factors of alienation, which enhance the existence of classes, groups, and denominations.
Speaking of rituals in terms of behavioral entities frees them of a non-ritual layer of meaning that is embedded in ideology. Rituals are self-sustained entities that behaviorally unfold within the context of their enactment. In principle, though, they usually have a social context that supposedly links them to cultural or ideological concerns. In other words, rituals have an aim and a purpose, but they are self-sufficient in terms of their own modes of doing.
When humans, either individuals or groups, wish to guarantee specific results that are required for the maintaining of what they consider vital and life-enhancing factors, they engage in ritual, or ritualized, forms of behavior. In some cases, rituals are done to avoid or prevent the annihilation of processes that are believed to maintain orderly existence. However, the aim has no direct impact on the ritual process. On the contrary, the ritual process itself is fully effective in shaping what the people concerned consider to be the desired results.
To sum up this part, the ritual aspects of human behavior come into effect in segmented units that link together to make a workable whole, a ritual Gestalt. Furthermore, the enactment of rituals assumes that repeating the same things in the right order guarantees the same results. The repetitive factor is a dominant feature. The same things are done in the same manner to achieve or fulfil the same aims or results. In other words, rituals presuppose a strictly observed protocol. As will be shown below, any change in the processual protocol is likely to disrupt the ritual process and end in failure.
Culturally oriented rituals engage a wide spectrum of factors. They bring about what may be considered substantial changes in life-preserving or life-enhancing processes. They empower processes that prevent the disruption or annihilation of existence in the broad sense of that term. In other words, rituals bring into effect dynamic processes vital for creating and sustaining processes that sustain the existence of a “cosmos.” Or, else, they prevent the termination, disintegration, or annihilation of that “cosmos.”
To make this methodological discussion clear, we will focus on rituals of washing the body. In a religious context, these acts are referred to as rituals of purification, among which baptism or full immersion of the body play a major role. In a Christian context, full immersion, or baptism, functions as a rite of initiation, and in the Catholic Church as the first of seven sacraments. From the point of view of behavioral assessment, specific acts of washing the body, even when done for daily, routine, purposes, are likely to take on ritual configuration. That is, in doing them a protocol, often self-imposed, is observed. In any event, to reach their individually conceived goal rituals always follow their chosen or prescribed protocol. In principle, the difference between one ritual and the other is the respective motivation for the doing of a specific protocol. It should be noted, though, that there is nothing inherently evident in the respective reason or purpose that accounts for the various ways rituals are done.
People are inclined to stick to specific modes of behavior, which they observe with ritual zeal. To give one or two examples of this fact we shall refer to the various forms of washing for non-religious purposes. Acts of taking care of the daily needs to keep a hygienic routine, or the washing of the hands for pre-surgical sterilization, are adequate examples, in this respect. As indicated, in spite of the fact that these acts are done for non-religious purposes, the habits of doing that are involved show patterns of ritual behavior. Choosing the time of the day, the use of the specific cleaning materials, the preference for a shower or a full bath, the choice of warm or cold water, etc., are all repeated on a daily basis and therefore meet the qualification of ritual behavior. However, there is more to it than just the element of targeted repetition. The doing of rituals entails a unique awareness that in missing something in the doing process one is likely to create incompleteness, even a failure of the (ritual) process. For those meticulously following the exact design of the washing procedure, missing or changing anything in it is likely to cause a feeling of incompleteness. Rituals require a full and targeted protocol to work. Whether this protocol follows written specifications or a self-selected procedure, all details follow an integrating and sequential principle that makes the various parts work effectively together.
The vital importance of an orderly protocol is best illustrated in the ritual service of the High Priest in the Jerusalem temple on the Day of Atonement, as attested in M. Yoma 5, 7: “The entire rite of the Day of Atonement stated in accord with its proper order; if he (the High Priest) did one part of the rite before the one that should follow, he has done nothing whatsoever.” Although the ensuing text specifies what can be done, when such a confusion has set in and the details are not kept in their right order, the overall principle of an orderly protocol still prevails. In a similar vein, washing the hands and legs and, consequently, the full immersion in water, and drying oneself before every part of the ritual process that involves the changing of the High Priest’s garments constitutes another example of the requirements of the ritual protocol (see m. Yoma 7:3).
To sum up, rituals are behavioral entities not necessarily connected to religious practice and behavior. The religious context induces the notion of an overall though conspicuously present entity that entails a specifically oriented ideology or theology. The protocols consists of devotional gestures as well as a variety of other ceremonial activities. In a non-religious context, routinely practiced activities lack the devotional zeal that is characteristic of their religious counterpart. As mentioned, it is in the essence of rituals that they are repeated in the same manner and order and with the same kind of materials and accessories. Other repetitive factors are the quantities used and measures applied. In principle, the timing is also an essential factor. When required, a certain person with authority will either oversee or direct the ritual act, or else be authorized to do it on behalf of the individual or community concerned. When properly executed, the same rituals are expected to accomplish the same things in the same manner and for the same purposes.
When done in a religious context or for religious purposes, rituals are often affiliated with a theological setting. That is, they are presented as seeking or purporting to enact a certain ideological program. However, in my view, such a program has nothing to do with the performance aspects of the respective rituals. Admittedly, this view deviates from a certain consensus in the study of rituals. It is argued that rituals are unique forms of expressing theological ideas, that is, they have theological agenda. This article assesses rituals from a different perspective, a behavioral one, which is not necessarily guided by religious notions.
Any recipe that has to be followed in the kitchen or any manual used for technical purposes has a ritual structure and shows ritual characteristics. These “rituals” must be carefully followed, step by step. Any change or failure to do things in the right order (or, in the case of the kitchen, not using the right provisions and quantities), and not abiding by a strict time table (or keeping the right intervals between one part of the “ritual” and the other) is liable to disrupt the whole process and interfere with the results. Following Pauline ideas about the nomos, Christianity is often presented as a religion without a ritual. However, the ritual of full immersion, or baptism, which is done to initiate new born ones or converts into the faith, is a clear example of the fact that Christianity still abides by a ritual code. This entitles the baptized persons to partake in the various rites of the faith, most specifically in the Eucharist. One should be reminded, though, that the devotional aspect of the ritual of immersion in water does not specify the details of what is done and how.
Immersion in water is one of the most effective religious rituals. It changes the status of people and contaminated vessels from cultic inadequacy to adequacy. The issues concerned are mainly those connected with entry into sacred places or with preparation for the doing, or taking part in, sacred rites that require ritual purity. In cultic terms, full immersion or baptism constitutes a unique type of a “rite of passage.” In the context discussed above, the change from impurity to purity means regaining relevant potentials of life and existence. In this respect, impurity may be viewed as a status of inadequacy for certain religious duties. Viewed from an anthropological angle, it signifies non-existence or non-being. In a similar vein, special decrees prescribe what people must do or avoid doing to distance themselves from “territories” that entail ritual contamination or impurity, that is, from ritual non-existence. Thus, in a context that matters in this respect, people are advised to avoid exposing themselves to situations that entail, from a ritual point of view, non-existence and annihilation.
Emerging from a full immersion in water, then, can be viewed as a ritual rebirth. Water is instrumental in the removal of dirt, and by a ritual implication, in eliminating impurity. Mary Douglas suggested viewing impurity as a ritually conceived kind of dirt and contamination. To be fully effective the purifying waters must, on certain occasions, be blessed by a clergy, declared or believed to be holy (like the waters of the River Ganges and, in a Christian context, the Jordan). The beginning of Mishnah (m.) tractate Miqwaot mentions several kinds of water reservoirs regarding the question, whether they are either likely to take on or impart impurity. As m. tractate Makhshirin (“Instrumental Agents”) stipulates, water and several kinds of fluids are considered as agents that either contract or impart impurity. However, as indicated, only water is effective in regaining purity.
In principle, rituals engage four experiential platforms: the reality that requires change or was damaged and needs to be fixed (the starting point); what makes the change happen (the ritual act); what is expected to happen (the effect that rituals have on shaping requested realities) or what comes into functional existence; and, finally, the likely results or consequences of the ritual act (what the new reality facilitates or brings about). Every ritual embodies a “cosmos” of its own, with its own rules and forms of functioning. Furthermore, every “cosmos” embeds or is likely to create its modes of sharing with other rituals, thus building a totality, a “ritual cosmology,” which is the overarching ritual system of any religious system or social structure. As indicated, each ritual consists of a set of entities, sections, or segments.
In sum, rituals make changes happen in existence-related entities or conditions. They are effective in avoiding counter-existence, annihilating processes, and factors that interfere with an orderly reality. Washing, and particularly full immersion in water and baptism, belong in this category of rituals. No wonder then that in the Catholic Church, Baptism is the first of seven Sacraments. In the multifaceted dynamics of its practiced and theological transitions, it is an interesting case for the study of that ritual, its practiced essence, history, and corresponding diversifications. Historically speaking, rituals undergo changes, which in turn cause changes in modes of existence in the life of people and the communities concerned. These changes, in turn, shape the difference between various ecclesiastical denominations as to how baptism is conferred. These changes are a matter of form but no less so of substance. They often come into effect in the course of social or ideological changes and then sustain them.
Analysis of the Christian baptismal sacrament begins with the reports about the baptism that John the Baptist allegedly enacted in the relevant events. Apart from the New Testament, the baptismal rite is described in various foundational documents of the early Church, like Didache. These documents contain different reports about the way in which the sacrament must be done. In the Eastern Catholic Churches a liturgical formula is added to empower the baptismal act: “The servant of God, N., is baptized in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” This formula derives from Matt 28:19. It is important to note that in the case of a full immersion in baptismal waters the role of a “baptizing” person is not as evident as it may appear in the study of the relevant texts in the New Testament. We shall discuss this point below.
In the Western or Latin Church, baptism is usually conferred by pouring water three times on the recipient’s head. In this case, too, a baptismal formula is added: “I baptize you in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.” The formula empowers the ritual act. Such empowerment bears a certain affinity to magical practices in which acts are complemented by charms or adjurations. Sprinkling water over the head and other parts of the body can also fulfil ritual requirements. As indicated, in certain cases the water is sanctified or considered blessed or holy.
The earliest case of sprinkling water to purify and install a person into office is that of the Levites of biblical times (Num 8:7). The biblical text is of utmost importance: “Thus you (Moses) shall do to them, to cleanse them: sprinkle the water of purification on them, have them shave their whole body with a razor and wash their clothes, and so purify themselves” (NRSV; slightly modified). As can be clearly seen, this ritual of installing Levites into office entails several acts that are done in succession, notably the shaving of the hair and the laundering of the clothes. Christian baptism avoids these acts.
In its Christian context, the scholarly discussion of ritual and ritual theory is usually conducted with the assumption that the major factors to consider are the theological ones. Anthropological and psychological considerations can also create an adequate platform of scholarly discussion. However, they have not yet found their way to the forefront of the discussion, and this in spite of the fact that they are likely to provide significant results in relation to the motivations behind the subject matter. Instead, and particularly so in the case of the three monotheistic religions in which a rich display of written and archaeological documentation exists, plenty of historical and textual considerations come into play.
In the modern discussion of rituals, the question of an embedded meaning in ritual acts has received considerable attention. In my view, however, the doing of rituals, as every behavioral oeuvre, has no embedded meaning, though the motivations behind the doing and its respective formulated purpose cannot be deprived of a professed meaning. In other words, what is done can neither stand for nor be explained by an inherent idea. Furthermore, no symbolic gestures allegedly function in the enactment of ritual procedures. By the same token, neither emotional nor philosophical factors play any part in them, nor do they explain the processual “mechanism” of ritual behavior. As stated, the reasons for the doing of rituals and their respective purpose are valid considerations in the assessment of rituals, but they can hardly account for what is done and its exact processual or ceremonial layout. Congregational factors that foster group cohesion and identity entail a social engagement, but they do not account for the essence of the procedure.
The point that is made here underlines the fact that the logic of the processual factor in ritual is the manner in which the segments follow one another. These segments are the dynamic “building stones” that create the “whole.” Taking the position, as is often the case, that rituals have no doing substance in their own right, but are expressive of something that is not part of their doing substance, detracts from what I consider to be the essence of rituals. Furthermore, this position can lead to the wrong conclusion, namely, that instead of doing the ritual one can indulge in the ideology or theology that allegedly gives rise to the doing process. In a sense, this approach is the essence of antinomianism, though it can sustain the view that the spiritual, non-material, hence non-ritual, side of religion is what matters and is essential to its enactment.
Rituals are enacted either as a spontaneous decision of an individual or a group. In many cases, an authority, divine or human, is believed to stand behind the prescribed doing of rituals. In any event, the relevant reports do not make clear how the respective rituals work or bring about the desired results. Admittedly, although certain rituals are done to establish or sustain an idea, there is nothing in the manner they are done that helps us know how exactly they do it. As indicated, rituals grow within and out of realities that have a systemic structure. That is, an innate logic brings into effect ceremonial procedures that have their own systemic structure. Evidently, they unfold in variously targeted modes of doing. That is, they enact specific realities that are ritually-dependent and keep rituals dynamically intact.
This is also true of systems like recurring local and public events marked by sports and competitive games. Sports and other competitive events are more than just entertainment. They enact special ceremonial manuals, which abide by strict organizational rules. In other words, the inherent component of any live system is the logic, whether structural or other, that sustains it. Rituals embody that logic. They also have a unique role in sustaining the dynamic processes that are maintained in the relevant reality. In their special manner of functioning they make the system what it is expected to be.
In its biblical context, immersion in water done for purification has no supplicatory formula that accompanies the ritual to enforce its efficacy. The immersion is considered effective in regaining a previous status of innocence and purity. In the Hebrew Scripture, the notion of teshuvah (“return”; Greek: metanoia) is the common notion, though, significantly often without specifying how it should be done. It involves a turn of mind or heart, as is expressed, for example, in Ezek 36:25–27:
I will sprinkle clean water upon you, and you shall be clean from all your uncleannesses, and from all your idols I will cleanse you. A new heart I will give you, and a new spirit I will put within you; and I will remove from your body the heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. I will put my spirit within you, and make you follow my statutes and be careful to observe my ordinances. (NRSV)
This is a classic formulation of a radical change, whether of heart or mind, though without explicitly mentioning the notion teshuvah and what exactly must be done. It should be noted, however, that the kind of language used in this case creates a landmark in theological deliberations about the complex matrix of cleansing waters, purification, and atonement. Evidently, water in this case is used metaphorically. However, once matters are set in a ritual mode, water is no longer a metaphor but the location and substance of physical immersion.
Thus, for instance, the Rule of the Community of the Qumran sect stipulates that “He should not go into the waters to share in the pure food of the Men of Holiness, for they have not been cleansed unless they turn away from their wickedness” (col. V, 13–14). Here, a preliminary ritual act crafts the communal meals as the socio-religious event that shapes identity. In the language used by the Rule, “going into the waters” is an initiatory act that makes possible participation in the major communal practice.
In Christianity, and most emphatically in the Catholic Church, participation in institutionalized communal meals like the Eucharist is dependent on initiatory rituals. Baptism has this function. Secular societies keep periodic (mostly annual) meals as a sign of re-enacting “brotherhood.” In other words, the right of partaking in the communal meal is a major feature in establishing identity and membership in the communal cosmos.
The study of rituals, whether from the perspective of the active participant or that of the outside observer allows for a variety of approaches, diachronic and synchronic, to converge in highlighting essences, differences, and ongoing changes in specific rituals. In this respect, one finds that communal and social events reflect diverging paradigms of social and communal existence. These differences often give way to scholarly debates over the nature and the relevance of ritual practice to that of ritual theory. For instance, in the case of baptism, one can learn about the specific ritual in observing current ceremonies in churches and, less frequently, in Jewish miqua’ot (pools for ritual purification). Elaborate and diverging reports are found in various documents that reflect traditions prevalent in early Judaism (Halakhah), and consequently in the early Church, most specifically in the Synoptic Gospels.
Various opinions have been expressed in relation to the question about whether an agent must be present to empower the act of immersion. In the case of John the Baptist, we must rely on the relevant reports in the gospels. The reports in Mark 1, Matthew 3, and Luke 3 show that despite reasonable expectations there is no agreement about the exact procedure of the event and its performance. Furthermore, from the constitutional point of view of the early church, a distinction is made between the respective baptism of John and that of Jesus. If that distinction points in the direction of a spiritualized kind of baptism, it may reflect what is often considered the Pauline attitude towards the practice of the Law.
We shall first turn to the different Gospel accounts of the event. Mark says that John preached, saying, “After me comes he who is mightier than I . . . I have baptized you with water, but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit” (Mark 1:6–8). Notice should be taken of the two kinds of baptism rites mentioned in Mark. Matthew quotes John the Baptist as saying: “I baptize you with water for repentance, but he who is coming after me is mightier than I . . . he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and with fire” (Matt 3:11). Luke, however, gives an altogether different version of the event, particularly in relation to the baptism of Jesus. Luke quotes John the Baptist saying, “I baptize you with water; but one who is more powerful than I is coming; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire” (Luke 3:16–17). These quotes make clear that the presence of a baptizing person is required, and Matthew adds the purpose, repentance. However, such a presence becomes a debatable issue, at least in practice if not in principle.
The Gospel of John follows the same path: “After me comes a man who ranks before me . . . I myself did not know him, but for this I came baptizing in water, that he might be revealed to Israel” (1:30–31). However, John adds a new point: “…he who sent me to baptize with water said to me, ‘He on whom you see the Spirit descend and remain, this is he who baptizes with the Holy Spirit” (John 1:33). The Gospel of John wishes to make clear that in the case of Jesus the baptism entailed a moment of revelatory election.
Differences occur between the respective reports regarding the presence of a baptizing agent. Mark says, “In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan” (Mark 1: 9). Matthew’s version is somewhat longer: “Then Jesus came from Galilee to John at the Jordan, to be baptized by him. John would have prevented him, saying, ‘I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?’ But Jesus answered him, ‘Let it be so now; for it is proper for us in this way to fulfil all righteousness.’ Then he consented” (Matt 3:13–16). However, Luke has a completely different version of the event: “Now when all the people were baptized, and when Jesus also had been baptized . . . ” (Luke 3:21). He says: “Jesus also had been baptized,” using the passive mode and omitting the name of the baptizing agent. This is explained by the fact, which only Luke brings up, that prior to the baptismal event King Herod had put John the Baptist into jail. In other words, according to the Gospel of Luke, John the Baptist was not able to be present at the time of the baptism of Jesus.
One may argue that there was no official protocol in those days regarding the ritual of baptism. Thus, one is well advised to take into consideration differences in the ways of reporting this particular event. According to Mark, the presence of an attendant person was obligatory, or self-understood. However, nothing is said regarding what his presence really involved. Was he expected to do anything beyond enacting an authoritative presence? The answer is not as simple as one might wish it to be, particularly since according to Luke no such person was at hand. It is quite likely that Luke follows the prevailing Jewish custom, namely, that a full immersion done for ritual purposes does not require the presence of an attending person. On the contrary, one may argue that discretion dictated absolute seclusion of the naked person.
Early Jewish sources do not mention baptismal rites that require another person to be present and actively involved in the baptismal rite. Apparently, John the Baptist and Jesus count as the first reported exception to any prevailing rule in the Jewish world of the time. However, as a close look at the texts of the Gospels shows, a more nuanced approach to this issue must be applied. Evidently, diversification in the source material is likely to reflect disagreement regarding the ritual practice observed by the communities that considered themselves addressed by these sources. As indicated above, the synoptic gospels and the Gospel of John use the passive voice in relation to the baptism of Jesus (“was baptized”), which omits a direct reference to an assisting person. Admittedly, the relevant reports imply that John is the active person on the scene, though only the Gospel of Mark mentions his name (1:9) in the baptizing function. In the case of the Gospel of John, John the Baptist does not claim for himself the title of the baptizer. The fact is implied, but for some reason not explicitly stated.
What does the recurrent passive mood indicate in this connection? One possible answer is that indeed there was no baptizing person required. Another answer suggests that the presence of a baptizing person diminishes the role of the baptized person, in this case, Jesus, and is therefore eliminated. In my view, what happened or did not happen on the scene is best explained by the fact that these New Testament reports reflect the current ritual practice. Those who use the passive voice seem to reflect an awareness of this fact without explicitly referring to it. It should be noted, though, that even Luke reports that John addressed “the multitudes that came out to be baptized by him” (3:7). However, according to Luke, John did nothing but preach to the people (Luke 3:18), and when it came to Jesus, John was in prison.
To conclude, the informational latitude, which the sources allow, cannot but have a cumulative effect on the study of ritual from textual evidence. Parallel texts are likely to render different information, even traditions, regarding the same fact, in this case the ritual procedure. Naturally, these differences shape the way later generations institutionalize the relevant rituals. Furthermore, the extent of the diversity shown by the respective reports can have its impact on the way rival denominations diversify in practice and belief, in short, shape their respective identity.
Pictorial images, whether related to a specific text or to a cumulative effect of several texts also shape people’s minds in relation to the baptismal event. Thus, John the Baptist is often depicted standing to the left of Jesus holding a vessel and pouring water on the head of Jesus. Both figures are shown in an upright position, Jesus with both legs in what seems to be the shallow waters of a river. This is a typical posture in Renaissance paintings and ignores the notion of a full immersion. However, it is reasonable to argue that these paintings reflect the way the Western, catholic, Church administered the baptismal rite.1 Earlier, in late Greco-Roman and byzantine times, one finds the archaeological and artistic remains prevalence of baptismal fonts.
However, the question has still to be asked, what relevance, if any, do artistic depictions of the event have in the context of a scholarly discussion of ritual issues? Clearly, their purpose cannot be to sort out or clarify data, whether historical or other. Nor can they help in solving textual discrepancies and problems. Indeed, they do not have to fulfil these functions. Usually, they reflect a certain consensus that has, somehow stereotypically, established itself in the minds of people (and often in that of scholars, too) regarding ritual notions and events. In our case, the artistic depictions are considerably removed from the ritual reality of the baptismal rites as known from Jewish and, most likely, from early Christian sources.
As indicated, in many of these paintings John and Jesus are shown standing, while the protocol of taking ritual baths as known from Judaism unequivocally speaks of a complete immersion of the body (“all his flesh”; Lev 15: 16, and many later sources) in water. The same can be said about the acts of sprinkling or pouring water, drawn either from a river or a baptismal font, on the heads of those baptized. In other words, early Christian art and iconography reflects significant transformations in understanding relevant baptismal texts. Over time, these transformations came to reflect something of a ritual “consensus.”
The question has still to be asked if there is any textual basis, circumstantial or other, for this way of artistically depicting the baptismal rite. If there is, to whom can it be attributed? Although these questions are related to the history of ecclesiastical art, they have a direct relevance to ritual studies. John 13:4-10 offers an important perspective on these questions. John describes Jesus and Peter arguing over matters of a (ritual?) washing of parts of the body (legs, hands, and head). Jesus ends the conversation telling Peter: “If I do not wash you, you have no part in me . . . He who has bathed does not need to wash, except for his feet, but he is clean (katharos) all over” (vv. 8, 10).This passage is not concerned with a baptismal rite in the sacramental sense of the term. Jesus uses baptismal terminology, which seems to focuses on washing and bathing as a sign of joining a brotherhood, based on a personal relationship and not on an organized church (“If I do not wash you, you have no part in me”). It falls short of a fully shaped messianic community. Noteworthy, in this respect, is the notion of washing rather than that of a full immersion, or baptism. In all likelihood, this follows the priestly practice. The priests were told to wash their hands and legs before entering the sacra or approaching the altar (Exod 30:18–20; 1 Kgs 7:38). One may refer to it in terms of a “minimalist” act of purification. Later generations saw in the words of Jesus a shorthand of a baptismal rite.
The semantic fields in which this passage moves are those of bathing and washing. Scripture singularly refers to the act of ritual washing using the verb raḥaz. It does so generally regarding the sacrificial service of the priests in the sanctuary/temple. This service required a preliminary act of a ritual cleansing of the body. It should be noted that the term taval, indicating a full immersion of the body, is mentioned only once in scripture, in the case of Na’aman (2 Kgs 5:14) who immersed himself seven times in the Jordan to be cured of his leprosy. We shall refer to this text later. However, the Hebrew term taval occurs quite frequently in early rabbinic writings, engaging the complementary semantic field of toharah, referring to various rituals acts of purification. They create a complex domain, which ultimately consists of hundreds of halakhic rulings that deal with all kinds of issues relating purity and impurity.
The reporting peculiarities of Luke are enhanced by the text in Acts 2, which reflects Luke’s pervasive interest (if he is the author of Acts) in the events that shaped the new faith. Luke reports that Peter encouraged people to “repent and be baptized . . . in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins” (Acts 2:38). To use modern terminology, Peter established penitential baptism as a ritual condition for repentance. In the first place, baptism marked an initiation rite into the newly forming community, and consequently established a rule that constituted the protocol required for joining the congregation of believers. Not undergoing this initiation rite meant one could not “receive the gift of the Holy Spirit,” whatever that practically meant. From a ritual point of view, matters were more clearly stated. Those who did not partake of the ritual of Baptism, were excluded from joining the community in the ritual of “the breaking of the bread and the prayers” (Acts 2:42). This ruling still applies in today’s Catholic Church. It reflects the principle found in the words of Jesus to Peter: “if I do not wash you, you have no part in me” (John 13:8).
The quoted words in John 13:8 echo those found in the “Rule of the Community” of the people of Qumran. The “Rule” stipulates that “He should not go into the waters to share in the pure food of the Men of Holiness, for they have not been cleansed unless they turn away from their wickedness…” (col. V, 13–14). In other words, one should not undergo a significant ritual procedure like the immersion in purifying waters of the community unless one has turned away, repented, from the old ways. This notion marks a significant transformation of the idea of purity (to be discussed).
It should, however, be noted that both Matt 3:2 and Luke 3:3 refer to the Johannine call for repentance. It precedes the act of Baptism, but has no conditional status, that is, the efficacy of Baptism is not depending on a previous act of repentance. This is not the case in the practice of the Dead Sea group. It requires a preliminary act of turning away from wickedness before one’s baptism can come into effect. In all likelihood, in the view of the Qumran people, the turning away from wickedness meant a departure from the priestly way of life as it prevailed in Jerusalem. This is not the case in the Gospels.
One further point is worth mentioning in this connection. The Gospel of Mark associates John the Baptist with a divine messenger technically designated as an angel (1:2–5). The biblical references used in Mark constitute a conflation of two scriptural verses: Mal 3:1, “Behold, I send my ‘angel’ (mal’ki; literally, “my messenger”) to clear the way before me,” and Isa 40:3, “In the wilderness make clear the way of God.” It is interesting to note that one of the quotes refers to an angel who is supposed to clear God’s way, while the second reference is to the people who have to do the job themselves. In both cases, however, the reference seems to be to the re-appearance of God after a while in which the people of Israel turned away from Him.
It is not exactly clear what is implied by the clearing of the way, but in all likelihood it refers to a spiritual preparation of the people for a new theophany. In any event, the argument that purity rituals are articulated or included in these verses seems to confuse a hermeneutic stance with a ritual practice. Initially, it is hardly conceivable that these biblical references to “the clearing of the way” could evolve as a ritual ruling (cf. Klawans 2005). As indicated earlier, rituals are explicitly prescribed in behavioral stances. The very act of doing rituals brings about the desired effects or changes in real life. Rituals that allegedly have effect on imagined realities (“clearing of the way”) engage a different platform of conceptualization. They might come into effect in what may look symbolic, or imagined, modes of realization. Indeed, there are special techniques, such as “magic,” “autosuggestion” and “autohypnosis,” that can induce imagined realities. However, they engage modes of ritual that are quite different from the ones that we discuss here.
As mentioned, the only account given in Scripture about a purifying act of ablution taken in the Jordan is the one of the Syrian general, Na’aman, who was told by Elisha, the prophet, to go and wash (raḥaz; 2 Kgs 5:10; in v. 14, however, the verb is taval) seven times in the waters of the Jordan and be purified (tahar) of his leprosy (cf. Milgrom 1991, 816–820). Since leprosy and a few other skin diseases were considered as causing ritual impurity (Lev 13–14), undergoing ritual purification was obligatory. It should be noted, however, that Na’aman uses the technical term raḥaz (vv. 10–13) to describe his washing, whereas Elisha, the “Man of God,” uses the term taval to describe Na’aman’s immersion (v. 14). The question is worth asking, whether there is a ritual difference between raḥaz and taval. In fact, no obvious indicator points to a ritual difference between the two acts. Only one rabbinic source addresses the issue, either in its prescriptive or descriptive mode. It concerns the ritual practices of the high priest on the Day of Atonement. Washing entailed parts of the body, while immersion meant that the whole body is under water (the one exception is the person who experiences a nocturnal emission of semen; he must wash all his body in water [Lev 15:16]).
Another issue in the immersion ritual is the right place to do it. Mishnah Tractate Miqwa’ot, Chapter One, mentions several kinds of water reservoirs that make t’vilah (full immersion) effective. A relatively high priority is given to a pool that contains forty se’ahs (the exact measurement is unclear; see Milgrom 1991, 890–901) of ever-renewing water, and to running waters like those of rivers. Thus, only the parts of the Jordan that are deep enough would qualify for any kind of a full immersion and purification. A simple, non-ritual, washing of one’s body requires no specific quantity of clean water. However, routinely done washings of the hands are viewed as entailing ritual status, particularly when done before meals that have bread on the menu. In the sanctuary, the ritual washing of the hands and legs was done from a water basin (kiyor; Exod 30:17–19).
As is often the case in scriptural rituals, no specifications are given. Specifications came in the writings of the Oral Law, in rabbinic Halakhah. Thus, the information that can be drawn from ancient sources about immersion rituals is sparse. We have already referred to the fact that the language used in the case of rituals, in general, is a kind of shorthand, “captions” or “labels.” Often, it is indeed quite difficult to sort out the details about the practice of immersion. Thus, for instance, several biblical sources stipulate that the first act of purification is to launder one’s clothes. Clearly, this is not the case in what the Gospels report about the immersion in the Jordan. In the priestly code, laundering the clothes and washing one’s body go hand in hand: “If he (the person who has eaten a carcass) does not launder (kibes) his clothes and wash his body, he shall bear his punishment” (Lev 17:16). In other words, whether involving an atonement or not, no purification is accomplished unless all the parts of the ritual have been done. This procedure of “washing one’s flesh” also concerns lepers (Lev 13; 14–15). Elaborating on the priestly code, Rabbinic sources stipulate that those who are about to take a ritual bath must strip off all their clothes, though no requirement to launder them is usually added. The same is true of Christian forms of baptismal rituals. In any event, for reasons of modesty, the act of immersion must be done in secluded privacy, that is, hidden away from the sight of any outsider or bystander.
Furthermore, the rabbinic (halakhic) materials dealing with the subject branch out to include the discussion of the kind of water reservoirs and sources that fulfil the halakhic requirements of ritual pools. However, with one exception, namely, Mishnah Yoma 8:9, which discusses the notion of regaining religious innocence by using water, nothing in the relevant Jewish sources refers to a physical immersion in water that brings about the removal of the load of sins and the regaining of the status of innocence.
Rabbinic rulings lack the redemptive or messianic connections that the ritual receives in the New Testament. Redemption is accomplished in a moral domain, that is, in the atonement of sins. A somewhat similar notion is mentioned in Matthew, with no synoptic parallels. Matthew quotes John the Baptist saying: “I baptize you with water for repentance, but he who is coming after me . . . will baptize you with the Holy Spirit” (Matt 3:11).
To sum up, we have discussed several aspects of the subject of ritual and ritual theory. Our thematic focus was the ritual of immersion, and in the language of the early Christian writings, baptism. Two points still require detailed elaboration: ritual and denominational identity and sacrificial rituals. Furthermore, rituals are functional in establishing identity, professional and religious. In some cases, rituals help in creating identity; in other cases identity is consolidated by rituals. Consequently, diverse ways of performing rituals are functional in establishing denominational diversification and its functioning.