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Blessed, Bewildered: A Former Altar Boy Remembers Benediction

Blessed, Bewildered: A Former Altar Boy Remembers Benediction

Last updated on: October 28, 2016 at 12:04 pm by Guest Contributor

Blessed, Bewildered: A Former Altar Boy Remembers Benediction 2016-10-28T12:04:00-05:00 Guest Contributor

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Of all the mysterious rites of Catholicism, perhaps the most mysterious is the Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament, known to the laity as ‘Benediction’. As an altar boy for six years, I served at countless masses, funerals and weddings almost every week, but only a handful of Benedictions, and only one or two of them were of the Solemn variety. They were that rare and that special. And what made them even more special is that we never really understood what was going on.

But it all starts with the vestments.

The altar boy is a factotum, an aide-de-camp, a cherubic underling tasked with all menial engagements. A priest is much like a member of the minor nobility, and like them, needs a valet. And so, before any ceremony can begin, the valet must help the noble get dressed.

Standing in a cassock of scarlet, with a lacy surplice of white, I hand the priest what looks like a handkerchief, and then stand behind him, holding a white rope. He unfolds the linen to make a square with two long cords attached to corners, spins it over his shoulders and ties it loosely by the cords, asking the Lord to give him strength against the Devil. Thus the amice has been placed, and the priest then dons the alb over his clothing, a full-length white linen robe representing his purity. Then he picks up the stole I have laid out for him, kisses it in the middle with a blessing, and places it around his neck, adorning himself with the sign of his priestly function. He then reaches behind himself with both hands and takes the rope I hold out for him. This is the cincture, which he ties as a belt around the alb, symbolizing his chastity.

So far we have followed the script for a typical Mass, but then things get Byzantine.

Instead of a chasuble colored for the season in bright hues of green, purple or red, the priest must wear the cope, a long cape open at the front, which is held together by a bronze clasp at the neck. The cope is a rich hue of ivory, highly embroidered with thick golden thread, flowery motifs of intricate detail, and the IHS logo within a halo of sunrays. No, this would be no ordinary Mass; this was the grandiloquent expression of Catholic ritual.

Going to a Catholic school, we naturally were instructed in the ritual of the Mass. We understood, or thought we did, what it was supposed to signify and accomplish: changing a piece of bread into the body of Christ. But no one ever explained Benediction to us. We simply followed along in amazement as the ceremony unfolded, said our prayers dutifully, sang the appropriate hymns, stood up, sat down, and knelt in the correct places, and drank in the delicious mystery that we could not comprehend.

To us, Benediction seemed to be designed to mystify the faithful and bless them in their bewilderment.

The main piece of hardware used in Benediction is never used in any other ceremony. Known as the monstrance, (cf. ‘demonstrate’), it’s a tall and elaborate sculpture of gold and precious gems, having a circular glass container in the middle, meant to hold and display the host. Our church was so old and formerly wealthy that it had three monstrances (monstri?); one from the turn of the century, not too tall or elaborate, with a few embellishments and a couple precious stones; another from the post-war Catholic boom, much larger, far more elaborately carved, and dazzling with many semi-precious rocks; and a third, post-Vatican II manifestation, with a slim art-deco contour and a tasteful ring of blue glass mosaic. The former we rarely used, the latter was for normal Benediction, but the giant monstrosity (as we altar boys loved to call the monstrance), was reserved for the Solemn Benediction, when they pulled out all the stops (and not just on the church organ) to put on a first class razzle-dazzle of a show.

We begin by ringing the entrance bell, warning the people to get up out of their seats. The monstrance has already been placed on the altar, beneath a veil so that the exposition will be all the more dramatic. We then proceed into the apse (cf: apsis, a vault) and turn toward the tabernacle (cf. taberna, a tavern), and kneel on the steps as the priest ascends, opens the little vault, and brings out the special golden case that holds a large consecrated host. He brings it back down to the altar and unveils the monstrance, which is flanked by candles not normally present. Then he turns to us and we prepare the incense.

Our favorite part was always the incense. Getting to make a big smelly concoction is every adolescent boy’s dream. One of us already lit the self-igniting coal, which now glows ember-red, while the other holds the incense bowl, called the boat. The top half of the censer is opened and the priest takes three spoonfuls of myrrh and frankincense and places them on the coal. Immediately, the fumes erupt and the aroma spreads through the sanctuary. He then takes the censer in hand and blesses the Blessed Sacrament with three double-swings of the chain.

As our prayers ascend to heaven on the smoke, one of us brings out the humeral veil. This is a garment that matches the cope in rococo magnificence. Six feet long and a third as wide, it drapes over the shoulders, (thus the name), and is held with another bronze clasp around the neck. Its sole function is to cover the hands of the priest. As with the cincture, we stand behind him and offer the silk; he takes it, clasps it and wraps the ends over his hands. Now he is fit to actually touch the monstrance, which he takes in both silken hands to lift it and make the sign of the cross over the congregation. One of us rings the altar bell while the other swings more incense from the censer (which we never called a thurible, despite our use of so many exotic names).

This is the actual Benediction, when the crowd is being blessed with the host. At this point we recite the ‘blessed be’s’, officially known as the Divine Praises: “Blessed be God; Blessed be his Holy Name” etc, all down the list of things we’re supposed to bless as we’re being blessed. There’s a lot of blessing going on, as one would expect in a ritual known as a Benediction.

The chanting and fervent prayer continue for a while, then all of the previous actions are done in reverse; remove the host, cover the monstrosity, replace the wafer in the tabernacle, sprinkle in a few genuflections and leave the sanctuary. The whole affair takes a quarter hour, and amidst all the kneeling and chanting, the elaborate vestments and haze of smoke, there’s no chance for the real significance of the rite to sink in – we just adored Christ in the form of a wafer, and received a blessing in return.

We just prayed to a piece of bread.

Leo Gillis grew up in Detroit and served the most masses of any altar boy in Holy Redeemer history, but he’s no longer a practicing Catholic. He writes from the northern Lower Peninsula of Michigan.

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