In response to no post in particular, I thought it might be useful to note that the old altar boy role wasn’t just a matter of doing what altar servers do now, which is practically nothing.
I don’t know if every former altar boy got the same background information on it than was prevalent where I live, but at the very beginning of our instruction we were told that acolytes of old were semi-clerical and, during the catacomb days served a secondary purpose of providing physical protection to the priest and the Eucharist. We were told (the tellers were undoubtedly a bit amused by this) that if it came to it, we were to resist any attack on the priest and/or altar as a sort of “last line of defense”.
I know it sounds silly to people nowadays, but at the time and as young boys we took both things seriously. We weren’t priests, but we were “acolytes”, not just “altar boys”, and as such we sort of had at least a tiny participation in the clerical state; one from which we could go no further, or could. Also, that “guardian” role was just the sort of thing a young boy could respond to. It amuses me to recall eyeing the congregation to see if any potential attackers might be ready to leap forward. (I particularly kept my eye on a certain bald-headed man who usually sat in the front)
Is that all just silliness? Well, to post-modern Americans, I guess it is. To today’s increasingly cynical and jaded youth it might seem so. But things like that did, and I suspect would now, really have an affect on young boys. Add to that the “Romanness” of the Latin prayers and the almost military precision of the movements (It was a LOT more than just holding cruets) and it did have an attraction. (We actually knew about ancient Romans back then.) Was that attraction peculiar to boys? Many today would debate it, but if we judge by the near absence of boys from the altar now and the near slovenliness and uselessness of the servers now, can one really say its opposite would not?
Were churchmen perhaps more clever once than now? I don’t mean only in priest recruitment, but also in terms of giving life lessons to young boys who, if we are honest with ourselves, are practically born hooligans. As the father of a son and of daughters and the grandfather of many girls and boys, I know boys need discipline in a way girls do not. I further know they are impressed by things to which girls are, more often than not, indifferent.
And commitment? When it was a boy’s duty, it was impressed on boys that it was, in fact, a duty. If you were scheduled to serve at Saturday morning Mass, you were there. You had to be there. It was a commitment. And whether you just woke up or not, you performed with that exacting precision to which you were also committed. Does that kind of thing make any difference in later views of commitment of other kinds? I’m sure some would think not, but i think it did. Was your commitment gender-determined? Yes it was.
And today, when we find that (what is it now?) 40% of young men do not commit themselves to marriage, can we be sure that the absence of serious gender-based commitment early in life makes no difference in later outcomes? Do boys who are never trained to be other than the Huns they would be otherwise, remain Huns for life?
I don’t know, but I think there’s something to that. Today we are so willing, even eager, to toss aside all “wisdoms of the generations”; lessons gained through centuries, even millenia. We know better, we think, in all things, because we can turn an ignition key and use a remote. But are we wiser? I don’t think we are.