My father was an usher. He had a cool tie clip that went with the job, too. It was a perfectly respectable way for a guy to be involved in his parish. Usher, Holy Name Society, and that was that. He wouldn’t have dreamed about venturing past the altar rail. He wasn’t a priest, and knew it. He was also too old to be an altar boy. Besides, his son was already up there. The family was represented.
From what I’ve seen lately, such minor positions as usher aren’t a very big draw these days. Used to be, you had a separate guy for every aisle of the church. Nowadays, you’ll often see guys having to double up. In some places, lack of manpower has parishes taking the leap of faith of starting a pass-around basket at one end of the church and hoping not too many people make change by the time it spits out the other end.
Am I being alarmist? I don’t think so. Compare the average age of an usher in your parish to the average age of a Eucharistic minister. Odds are, more of your ushers served in WWII or Korea, where more of your EMs (extraordinary ministers) served in Vietnam. More likely, they’re even younger, and — like me — served only in McDonald’s or Burger King.
Who wants to be an usher, when you can have a high-profile job like Eucharistic minister?
I know, I know. I thought they were “extraordinary” ministers, too. But we’re wrong. We must be. EMs are so un-extraordinary, I think there’s some sort of rule that there needs to be at least three EMs for every ten people attending a Sunday Mass. What is extraordinary is the effect such empowerment of the laity is having on the face of long-standing traditions . . . like a child’s First Holy Communion.
First Communion day has been changing for years . . . mostly on a sartorial level. The boys, especially, tend to look like various levels of Young Republicans: cardigans, blazers, the occasional suit and tie. And where are those muss-proof-hard-as-a-rock haircuts every white-jacketed junior James Bond in my Communion class had? Fashion statements aside, we noticed an even bigger change one recent First Communion day. Each child who went up to receive was met by either the Celebrant or an EM.
There were children receiving their first Holy Communion from civilians!
That’s like going to see Bruce Springsteen play with E Street Band and finding out that The Boss is being backed up by some guy with an accordion and a rhythm box.
And, in this case, we’re talking about THE BOSS.
I don’t care how long it takes to get through Mass. I’d have stayed all afternoon if they could have guaranteed that the priest would give each kid Communion. Where in the rubrics does it say that Communion needs to be peppy and come in on a schedule? This was twelve o’clock Mass for crying out loud. Nobody was going anywhere except to lunch.
This empowered laity thing is getting out of hand. And there’d be even more EMs cluttering up sanctuaries if not for one drawback of the job: intimate contact with unfamiliar human mouths.
Ever since my son was born last year, I’ve taken to carrying him beamingly up to Communion with me. This has brought me back to the very satisfying and reverential activity known as Communion on the tongue.
This habit has been out of style for so long, I think even some priests are thrown by it. But I’ve seen far more EMs than priests make a ginger double-cock of the wrist before laying the Host in and snapping their hands back as if I’d bitten them. That’s not to say that there aren’t a few brave souls among the EM ranks, but I doubt it would have been as popular a job prior to Communion in the hand.
I’m not calling for the excommunication of eucharistic ministers — my mother happens to be one. And in extraordinary circumstances, they are a saving grace. I just worry about the laity getting too intertwined with priestly functions . .. that we may one day find ourselves a do-it-yourself Church, cut off entirely from the priestly succession ordained to bring us the Sacraments. One day it’s EMs, the next it’s a woman in a white gown performing a “your sins have been forgiven” ceremony for women retreatants. (I know a parish where that actually happened.)
We the laity may benefit from stepping back and serving ourselves up a piece of humble pie. I tried it not long ago, and it helped me a great deal. I quit lectoring because my theatrical affectations won me accolades that should have gone to the Word I was reading. I was doing it because I sounded good, not necessarily because I was serving God. A similar examination of personal motives may show us that the rush of EMs to the altar has more to do with striking a priestly pose without having to pay priestly dues, more to do with attitudes toward gender restriction of the priesthood, than it does with serving the Church.
As for me, I think I’m gonna follow in my late father’s footsteps, and shake a simple basket in the service of the Faith from now on.
And if I catch anybody trying to make change in my aisle . . .
(This article can also be found at envoymagazine.com)
