The Deacon's Bench
Note: Saturday morning while I was in Washington for the Deacon Convocation, I got a call from our parish administrator. “You want to preach for me tomorrow?” Uh, er, I hadn’t planned on it, but okay. Sure. “It’s the 11:30 for the installation of the altar servers,” he said. Okay. I had no idea what to say. But I wrote this in the Amtrak last night on the way home.
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“The greatest among you must be your servant.”
This scripture reading is, in part, about the sincerity and humility of being a servant.
I’m looking out this morning at the young people who will be installed as altar servers. Whether you realize it or not, this passage is about you. You are saying “Yes” to being servants at the altar—serving the Lord in the liturgy.
This is a big moment for the altar servers, for their parents, for all of us. Our Altar Server Society is one of the most vital and visible ministries in the parish. When I travel around the country and tell people we have over 100 altar servers, they are amazed.
We should be amazed. Attention must be paid.
In some ways, you guys are a lot like me. The work of the deacon is to serve – you might consider me the parish’s biggest, oldest altar boy.
But if anyone is still wondering why this is such a big deal, or if the altar servers are thinking it’s just a fun thing to do on Sunday, let me tell you what this is all about, and why this is something great.
And it is great. Because, it means you are part of a miracle.
It means you are up here, just inches away from the greatest ongoing mystery and miracle in human history, as bread and wine become Christ’s body and blood.
It means you are participating in a work of wonder—and a work of love.
It means you are here, in this space, helping to make possible what seems impossible.
And being here, you become a visible part of the greatest prayer on earth, the holy sacrifice of the Mass.
What that means is that you are helping to bring Jesus to others.
It means you are part of a miracle.
And the world is noticing. Periodically, I post pictures on my blog or on Facebook of our altar servers, and I hear from people literally all over the world, asking, “How do you do that? How do you get so many kids to become altar servers and actually show up?”
David James could write a book about that. Someday, I hope he does.
But the ingredients, really, are simple.
The young men and women who do this do it, first of all, because they love it. They love being together. They love being in church and joining one of the biggest and most popular ministries in our parish. They love learning how to carry the cross, or bear the torches, or swing the censor. They love being a part of something so important.
But it goes even deeper than that.
Every year, just before Midnight Mass, Father Passenant gives The Speech to the altar servers. As they line up for the great procession, 40 or 50 of them, he offers this simple directive.
He tells them: make this a gift.
He explains: “There are some people who may not have any Christmas but this Mass, this moment, tonight. Give them this gift. Give them your best. Give them something to remember.”
And they always do. It is breathtaking. The music begins, “Once in Royal David’s City, in a lowly cattle shed…” And we are transported to Bethlehem. And the servers, dozens of them, begin to file out into the church, carrying candles or torches, leading the bishop, who is cradling the Baby Jesus in his arms.
It’s magical. It is wondrous.
Christ once more comes to dwell among us.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=250&v=q-d5pXvdDEQ
And you can be certain, after that liturgy, somewhere a parishioner goes home at 2 o’clock on Christmas morning, and she feels a little less alone. She carries in her heart one glimmering light, the memory of that Midnight Mass, with the music and the mystery, and all those altar servers leading Jesus to the stable.
What an act of love this is. I hope the altar servers never forget that—and always give it.
The other ingredient in all this, of course, is sheer joy. The joy of being up here in this beautiful sanctuary every Sunday as the music plays and the smoke rises and the bells ring.
The joy of being in the middle of that. There is nothing like it. I remember Desi Flynn, David’s predecessor, years ago saying, “There’s no place I’d rather be than on the altar.”
I can only say “Amen.” There’s nothing I’d rather do, no place I’d rather be, no feeling I’d rather have than being here as that host is raised and that chalice is uplifted and I realize—in a way we can see and touch and taste—that I am in the presence, the Real Presence, of Christ.
I am kneeling in the presence of my Lord and my God.
Altar servers, you help remind all of us that this is a blessing.
And a gift.
It’s a gift you help to give not just at Christmas, but every Sunday.
Remember that. Cherish that.
And to your parents: thank you for being a part of this, too, for supporting them. Your kids aren’t just spending an hour at church on Sunday to stay out of trouble. They’re learning about the Mass. Learning about the faith. Learning what it means to be a Catholic. I can’t tell you how important this is today, and what a difference it will make tomorrow. Thank you for encouraging them to be part of this great adventure.
And yes, I said it: “Great Adventure.” I know one of the reasons your kids want to do this is to get a trip to Great Adventure every summer.
But that’s not the greatest adventure.
Never forget this: The greatest adventure is right here, at the altar.
And for you, it’s just beginning.
Years ago, on a day very much like this one, I was installed as an altar server at St. Patrick’s Church in Rockville, Maryland. I’ll always remember it. It’s one reason I’m up here this morning as the parish’s biggest, oldest altar boy. But I love doing what I do. And I pray you will always remember this moment, and love to do what you’re doing today.
I hope you will always want to serve the Lord and each other—and do it with with joy.
Because it really is a great adventure.
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