It was an agreement between my mother (Danish Lutheran) and my father (Polish Catholic) that my sister and I would be raised in the Catholic faith. The nearest Catholic church to where we lived, Luck, Wisconsin, was St. Dominic’s Catholic Church in Frederic, Wisconsin – 7 miles away from Luck.
I had been thinking about writing this post about my experience as an altar boy for quite some time. It is only a coincident that there are new revelations in the news about bad behavior within the ranks of the Catholic clergy. I am glad to say that in my experience, I did not witness, nor participate in, any inappropriate behavior during the time I was involved. Unfortunately, I have no photos taken by my parents of me in my robes!
Catholic services are full of ceremony with no room for creativity. You follow the script and that is that. I don’t remember when or why I was asked to play the role of an altar boy, but in those days I remember almost never saying no to a request. I would have to show up about 30 minutes prior to the service, go into a room in the back of the church and slip a couple of pieces of clothing over my dress clothes. As people were filing into the church, I would go into small rooms next to the pulpit, to prepare the wine and light the main candle. Once the main candle was lit, I would light other candles from it; genuflecting at the proper station. Then I would go back and wait for the priest. Never once did I think about taking a drink of the sacramental wine when no one was looking!
At the start of the service, we would walk behind the priest down the center aisle and place accoutrements (cups and candles) at their proper location. Then take our place at the side. When the priest would speak at a particular time, we would ring a bell. When time came for communion, the priest would administer it to the altar boys, then we would either hold the container of wafers for the priest, or hold the cup of wine for the congregation (wiping each time where their lips touched the cup).
During Easter and Christmas, I was asked to be one of the altar boys. Instead of black robes, we wore red ones. I don’t know if I was asked because I was reliable, or because no one else wanted to do it! Anyway, as I said, during those days I never said no. And I don’t remember being nervous. Easter service was unique in that we have to follow the priest as he moved along the stations of the cross. I remember having to hold the incense ball for the priest as we moved along.
One year I played the role of an Apostle. We acted out the washing of feet during the “Mass of the Lord’s Supper”. It was certainly awkward for me to be up at the front of the church during the ceremony where all the other apostles were the same age as my father.
Since this post is about being an altar boy, I won’t include my experiences here about confirmation classes and my First Communion. I’ll save that another day and another post …