Imagine, if you will, that you are a pretty good ten-year-old boy. You've been an altar server for a year or so, and you are a reasonably bright and alert kid. And yet, as with so many ten-year-old boys, there is something of a gap between what you would be capable of if your life depended on it, and what you feel like you're capable of, when lots of people are always telling you what to do and you're trying pretty hard, but you're tired, and you haven't had anything to eat for over an hour, and besides, imagine if you had rocket feet. Whoa, rocket feet. Awesome.
And then imagine that, even though you more or less understand that it's a privilege to participate in any way in the holy sacrifice of the Mass, you suddenly realize that you've been put on the schedule for Sunday, even though you just went to Mass on Saturday, and so everyone else will be at home playing Mario Kart and eating toast and scrambled eggs, and you'll be at Mass, again.
It is at this point when you may tell your mother that you don't want to be an altar server anymore. You honestly enjoy serving once a week, and it was thrilling, if confusing, at first. But there are just too many people telling you to do different things, and no matter how hard you try, you can't seem to please everybody.
It's really hard to be reverent when you're basically spending the hour just trying not to screw up too visibly. This is what my son told me (except for the part about rocket feet. I intuited that part).
And I told my son something I tell everybody, all the time, when they run into something confusing or disheartening about the way the Catholic Church is run: Honey, what did you expect? This is what it looks like when you have a universal church, a church that lets everyone in -- a church that wants everyone to come in. And that includes sticklers, ad libbers, scowlers, memo-missers, chiders, and the generally clueless. I guarantee you, it's just as chaotic and nutty behind the scenes at St. Peter's as it is in the sacristy of your typical shoestring parish.
But it can be frustrating, never knowing what to do, and never seeming to do it right, no matter how hard you try -- to the point where you might just say, "I don't want to do this anymore." I don't want to be a part of this. You can do it without me; I'm going to go back to my seat. This is what my son told me.
I told him that his main job is to do his best and to be reverent, and as long as he does that, then he is truly serving God. I told him that he doesn't have to feel happy about it, but that he should try to be willing.
He doesn't have to be an altar boy anymore if he really doesn't want to. But, I told him, the decision to serve or not to serve, in general? This is what our lives come down to. Do we want to be on the side of the angels? Then we say, "Serviam -- I will serve."
Sometimes this looks like making a courageous stand, whether we're risking our livelihoods or our actual lives. And some days, it just means knowing that it's your husband's turn to get up with the kids, but you struggle up out of bed anyway before the alarm goes off, because you love that man and he needs some extra sleep. Or you turn off the interesting program on the car radio when the kids are begging for a story. Or you give some irritating secretary the benefit of the doubt: maybe she's not deliberately making your day harder. Maybe she's trying her best. These are your opprotunities to serve. What will you say?
Whatever your life presents to you, don't doubt it for a minute: you have a chance to serve at the altar. Sometimes the altar is visible, and your service comes with pomp and solemn ritual and beautiful vestments; but more often, it comes with aggravation, confusion, disorder and itchy robes.
And even more often, it comes with no ceremony at all -- just the day in, day out bumbling ritual of our daily lives. The altar is there, waiting for your sacrifice.
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Tell your son his misgivings are shared by adults too. I am a recent Catholic convert and will be serving for the first time as a lector during an upcoming Christmas mass. His fears about “screwing up” I share too. But it is an honor to serve, so I will, as best as I can, do what I have been asked to do. I don’t serve alone, nor does your son, for the Holy Spirit is right there with us, encouraging, instructing, building us up to carry out what we have been assigned to do. God works through our fears and insecurities, training us to walk in His Spirit, not our flesh, for the Spirit gives life while the “power of our flesh” counts for nothing. Moses told God He had chosen the wrong man, that he, Moses, stuttered, and look what God did with Moses! Our church is filled with people who feel unworthy and ill-prepared for the assignments they have been given. God worked through David, and David slayed a giant with a sling shot. The humble, the fearful, the unremarkable are the very candidates God chooses to testify to His power, presence and love. I think your son has all the qualities God is looking for to serve as a model of an altar boy.
As the mom of a similar sounding 9 year old boy, may I say what a GREAT post! He too has expressed misgivings about messing up, and on the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, having been an official alter server for all of 3 weeks (and not even trained in some of the more complicated jobs), he found himself the only server to show up to Mass. He muddled through, at the direction of our very understanding Priest, and after it was over told me he didn’t think he was cut out for this. I have asked him to give it another 6 months, until his training is complete, but I like your talking points better and I will revisit the subject with him tonight (after his thermifur training, I think he’s going to like the whole carrying a smoking hot coal around thing, he is a 9 year old boy).
“on the side of the angels” and “the altar is there, waiting for your sacrifice” - you’ve given me new perspective. thank you!
I was an altar boy only for about a year. So, I have these vague memories I can go back to that I wouldn’t have if I wasn’t Catholic. I am thankful for the Catholic memories I have.
My daughter once had her shoulder tapped by the director of religious education at her brother’s confirmation. It seemed that our new pastor was put off that he didn’t have altar servers, and wanted more pomp and circumstance for the Bishop. The problem is that there had *never been altar boys or girls for long as we had been parishioners. My daughter reluctantly agreed, never having ever served, or even had a lesson. Add some “anti-altar girl” consternation that she had absorbed from her grandpa, and she was pretty tentative. “You’ll be fine!” The director assured her. Sophia was the logical choice, as she was the only one who knew anything about the faith in catechism.
“She can do this!” I hoped.
Have you ever had a fit of inappropriate laughter in mass?
It’s only happened to me twice.
I can’t explain it. Maybe it is a bodily reaction to help the host not have a heart attack. Our, and especially *my default position at mass with all of our kids, every Sunday, was/is guarded nervousness. But the sight of our daughter wandering around on the altar, not knowing what to do with the Bishop’s staff, (what it the cross?)made us die a slow death of horrified mirth. Our shoulders shook, and tears rolled down our cheeks. She finally shrugged and kind of propped it up against the altar wall. Our new pastor wanted to throttle her by the end of the mass.
“I’m never doing that again”, she groused. Now, at our new parish I have a gung ho nine-year-old who wants to learn. He doesn’t remember why I have post traumatic stress syndrome.
I forgot to agree with you heartily about the main point: “Serviam” has been the BEST remedy to “I quit”, in all it’s forms. Thank you. (Goodness knows I’ve wanted to quit my job on occasion).
That’s why I like my parish’s lack of a schedule. Anytime youth servers are on, anyone can serve. You don’t get burned out, and there’s a desire to serve without parental pressure or guilt-trips.
Yeah, like you could be nice to Michael Voris. Ha!*
* For the record, I’ve never read or watched his stuff. But the mock-fest looks a little less than Catholic from the outside.
Very nice. I am regularly reminding my children (and myself) that we are all called to serve and we serve God by serving one another and not ourselves. Sometimes this means it will be inconvenient and maybe even very un-fun. However, if we only serve on our own terms, then it is ourselves we are essentially serving, yes? Yes.
Just what I could use right now! Thanks!
Our parish uses only men as servers, with excellent results. Our servers’ guild motto is the response given by the boy Samuel in the temple: Loquere Domine (quia audit servus tuus.)
@anna lisa…I leaned the heavy cross against the wall once too when I was serving. crashed down onto the marble during the homily. not my best moment
@Lauren, I find that frequent and consistent humiliation is God’s carving tool of choice for me. I’m always relieved to see when I’m not the only one.
You may or may not want to share this with your son, but I raised my children to always be looking for something they could do to serve other people. Now they are entering adulthood, and that one character trait has brought them more joys and blessings, not to mention positive attention from older adults, than any other part of their lives.
Reminds me of a long time ago when I served High Mass on Sundays and Low Mass on weekdays. My only concern was serving for our pastor, a quintessential Irish monsignor, who had a temper and was a stickler for correctness.
Great post! Serviam!
When my son was in 4th grade he has been a server for a few weeks. He was the only one to show up for a holy day and didn’t know what to do. The priest called him a “nin com poop” (haven’t got a clue how to spell it). In front of the whole congregation. He was mortified and so were we. He never served in that parish again. The good news is that the desire to serve never left him. He has been serving for a two years at our new parish. It is awesome.
Yup, his favorite job is incense. The more smoke the better. He is 17-the love of fire never goes away.
I am sort of the opinion that not every devout (or semi-devout) Catholic boy needs to serve at the altar. It is an art and some boys, for whatever reason, can’t get the art down. An altar boy is supposed to be inobtrusive and meld into the back ground. If a boy is not capable of this, he is a distraction in the sanctuary. A good altar boy trainer can help a lot, of course. One parish we attended had a team of three brothers who had been trained by a military man in serving. He began the training by having the trainee be an in-active “observer” and he required the boy to be able to sit, stand and kneel quietly and without needless movement before he was satisfied that he could be trained for altar service. Those brothers he trained became head altar boys in a new parish and every boy (usually only teenagers) they trained was excellent. They had regular practices and took their serving seriously, developing a team pride.
In our current parish, the altar trainer is a middle-aged woman (a very devout, daily mass attendee) who has a good heart, but has a utilitarian approach to serving. The servers usually get a crash course with her going through the motions and describing what to do when, thumping chalices and waving altar linens around. She usually sits near the front of our small church and I’ve seen her signalling to the servers or giving stage-whisper directions from the pew. It can be quite comical at times, which is not quite conducive to liturgical devotion.
I don’t know if this would help with your son, but one of the things we say to our kids when they commit to something and then want to quit is “don’t be flaky.” For some reason, it gets them every time.
I am sort of the opinion that not every devout (or semi-devout) Catholic boy needs to serve at the altar. It is an art and some boys, for whatever reason, can’t get the art down. An altar boy is supposed to be inobtrusive and meld into the back ground. If a boy is not capable of this, he is a distraction in the sanctuary. A good altar boy trainer can help a lot, of course. One parish we attended had a team of three brothers who had been trained by a military man in serving. He began the training by having the trainee be an in-active “observer” and he required the boy to be able to sit, stand and kneel quietly and without needless movement before he was satisfied that he could be trained for altar service. Those brothers he trained became head altar boys in a new parish and every boy (usually only teenagers) they trained was excellent. They had regular practices and took their serving seriously, developing a team pride.
In our current parish, the altar trainer is a middle-aged woman (a very devout, daily mass attendee) who has a good heart, but has a utilitarian approach to serving. The servers usually get a crash course with her going through the motions and describing what to do when, thumping chalices and waving altar linens around. She usually sits near the front of our small church and I’ve seen her signalling to the servers or giving stage-whisper directions from the pew. It can be quite comical at times, which is not quite conducive to liturgical devotion.
I don’t know if this would help with your son, but one of the things we say to our kids when they commit to something and then want to quit is “don’t be flaky.” For some reason, it gets them every time.
Yes, indeed. As TS Eliot wrote in Four Quartets, “For us, there is only the trying. The rest is not our business.”
I love the confluence of the Latin. Serviam goes beautifully as ‘I will serve’ a mantra for those of confident spirit, but if you lack guidance and vocation, don’t have to change a letter and you have good ol’ hortatory subjunctive. Let me serve you Lord.
Thank you for this! Your point about serving anyway in a messy Church is UNVIERSAL, and so true! And God Bless You, by the way, for being a parent who inculcates the whole idea of objectivity to the children early, as in “the world is big, big, BIG, bigger than you and me and our whole family, which is big.” As in, “even though we all secretly know that you are the most important person in the world, you must not act as if it were true, in fact, act opposite that assumption, because it is also true that you are the least, which makes you the greatest…um…”
ANyway, Simcha, if you go in for this sort of thing, here follows a link (Ithink) for a great “retro” uptight 50’s book on serving at the altar. http://wdtprs.com/blog/2011/04/review-letters-to-an-altar-boy-angelus-press/
and here is a link to a post on the dangerous perils of being an altar boy from a really neat blog.
http://spsseminarians.blogspot.com/search?q=liturgy+is+dangerous
And, on a side note.. if anyone is reading this, does anyone remember an article (maybe in Crisis or something?) about restoring a sense of danger to the liturgy? (As in, Liturgy is Dangerous…only the brave need apply. Remember the guy who touched the Ark of the Covenant?) MAybe Chesterton? Let me know…
To Help A Worthy Cause http://www.servantsofhope.ca/letter_from_executive_director.html
Are we not all training as alter servers in this world? I don’t know how many times I’ve just wanted to throw up my hands in disgust and give up speaking the Truth just to have it rejected or ridiculed. We are called to serve God within our own state in life, whether married, single, adult or teen.
It has gotten harder and harder to serve when faced with a secular world that is truly chaotic, seemingly without purpose and so unfair, but what choice do we have? So we continue to speak the Truth with words and actions whether it is easy or difficult. If we are truly Catholic then it is our life’s commitment to serve God through those around us. We cannot bail out or we risk losing everything.
Yes your son could quit being an alter server when faced with uncertainty as we all can in serving others in this life. As a teen, the thought of serving others grated harshly against my ego, but as a married man today, with five children, to serve IS my purpose as well as sacrifice. Serving as an alter server is training in serving others in life as an adult. It’s never about us and how we feel, but about God and what he deserves from us. This was a great post and thank you for it. You are wise beyond your years young lady.
Awwww, now I feel for your son! Poor ten-year-old boys, being bossed all the time. Better get used to it I guess. :)
For Anna Lisa’s daughter: Stick chicks and mitre maids…thank her for serving. So often I don’t want to serve because of all the criticism it will draw.
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