torchbearer

when i serve as an acolyte, i want it to be this composed solemn occasion. a time when i'm ready for what i'm being asked to do. a time when i am prepared, spiritually, mentally, physically.

but it is still my life, which tends to be more laurel and hardy than thomas merton. i woke up early sunday. a good start. but i was so exhausted, i went back to sleep. my daughter kept trying to wake me, which is a perilous task, but someone has to be brave.

so finally, ten miutes before i'm due at church, i drag my exhuasted self out of bed. i wasn't sure why i couldn't wake up, i just couldn't. so i get ready quick as lighting and walk to the church as fast as i can. realizing, when i'm in the parking lot that i had forgotten my glasses. i never forget my glasses. so i tried to press on without them.

i am looking at people but not really comfortable with this blurred vision, and too tired to spend time that way, i go down to the basement dressing room, and decide, i have to go home. i need those glasses or i'll be utterly unfocused the entire time.

so i pop my head in the sachistry, and the priest is talking to the LEM, jane, who will teach me, her beloved husband red, the WWII vet is the one that just passed away. i tell them,

i forgot my glasses.

and i ran home.

we have to light candles soon, so hurry.

jane calls out.

i'm now running through the parking lot, and to my house (which fortunately is very close), but there is the added skill element of snow (winter finally arrived and it's freezing! but i love it. we haven't had a killer snow yet, but a few inches have piled up here and there, enough to make things look pretty).

up two flights of stairs, into my house, my glasses no where to be found, i search and find them, down two flights of stairs, back down another flight of stairs to the basement. i'm pretty frantic by the time i'm getting dressed. i forgot to ask what color rope we wear around our waist, i am not sure how to read the church calendar yet (it was as the lady downstairs dressing had said,

the color of the number on the calendar for that day is the color you wear).

so i am clamboring back up the stairs in my acolyte robe, my cording untied, and trip. i nearly wipe out, but catch myself on the first stair, only thing hurt is my pride and i could use some dashing there.

so helen, lovely 83 years young helen, ties me up. and i get the candlelighty thing. i forget the proper name. by the time i've finished my clamboring, there is only one small tier of candles left to be lit.

when church is about to start, we get the torches. and carry these large pillar candles in the procession, which is very nice. behind the cross, before the choir. we process in. bow at the altar (a habit i'm now grateful i've acquired). we put our torches away in the small nook to the left of the altar, and sit opposite the choir by the priest. from there, i can see the whole church. the backside of the altar, and a lovely stained glass window which in never see, the windows are all tiffany and very fine. but this one, instead of having a pictoral inset, is just shaded glass, greys, blues, pinks. i love the simple diamond cuts, and shading.

at the reading of the gospel, i stood with jane behind the priest. when he was done, and raised the golden book up and kissed it, he turned in his golden vestments and handed me the gold bible. i carry it out of the sanctuary and into the sachistry.

at the offeratory, jane hands me a plate and she takes one. we walk to the head of the aisle, and hand them to the ushers. when they are done, they wait for me to pick up the large golden bowl the plates nest in. i walk to the head of the aisle and wait for the ushers. they place the plates in, and i kneel beside the altar waiting for the hymn to end.

from there i have a view of the rosette tiffany window with the bvm in it. seated on her lap is the son of God. i had always longed to focus on that window. and i got to kneel and look at it for about three minutes or so.

the way her blue robes fold in her lap. the Christ child in red seems to pop from her lap. the yellow halo on her head, the ornate one on his. the blues and reds seem come alive, and the light color of the halos seem ablaze with holiness. there is notching and symbols everywhere in our church. these windows are the same. i could look at them for years and never fully see them entirely. partly because the glasswork is so intricate, but also, because the symbology is unknown to me. though i think i know a great deal of the Church, i don't know a great deal of the church. which is a good place to be.

i've never worshipped in such an aesthetically pleasing environment before. warehouses were the ideal i'd grown accustomed to. scant furnishing, folded chairs. minimalist to be sure. but even more, not lovely. the loveliness of the churches i enjoy come from the people, the true church. rather than the building. so i have never really contemplated the building before. but perched up behind the priest, i can see the vaulted ceilings, how the dark wood beams are carved so delicately and intersect. how the candles flicker in the air. the stations of the cross punctuate the tiffany windows which run the length of the building. it is truly a lovely church.

the thing that most surprises me about my current church is to find such an open atmosphere in a traditional setting. i edited a book which spoke of the traditional churches being steeped in this formalism which would lend itself to postmodern thought. i didn't really believe it, but now i find it to be true. the liturgy is so forgiving. so gracious. so pertinent. it is hard not to bless the soul when one partakes of it.

i have not grown up in these traditional churches. rather, in what i thought to be more open nontraditional, congregational types of churches. but now i find them more fundamentalist than i am able to be at this point. which is surprising to me.

next time, i'm an acolyte. i want to be better prepared. awake and ready for my service.

i've a full day of housecleaning to do, and i must get to it.
may the peace of God reign in your life today.