We were standing at the end of the church service. The pastor had given the benediction and we were waiting while the acolyte went forward to extinguish the candles on the altar. The acolyte, a role I often filled as a kid, proceeded to the front of the church.
The process of extinguishing the candles requires that the acolyte come up to the altar, bow in a show of respect, extinguish the candles on one side of the altar, come back to the middle and bow again, extinguish the candle on the other side of the altar, bow one more time in the middle, and then walk back down the aisle toward to the back of the church.
There is significance to the candles being lit for a church service. They’re lit in the beginning, signifying the beginning of a holy or sacred worship time. They are extinguished at the end illustrating that the set aside time of worship has now concluded and we are being sent back out into the world.
The acolyte this Sunday was a young kid, maybe 10 years old. He looked a little shy. Maybe embarrassed, maybe even bored. He walked up to the altar, bowed quickly and moved to extinguish the candle on the left. Then he returned to the middle of the altar for the second bow. But instead of stopping to bow, he kind of bobbed his head halfway as he continued to move along to the candle on the right side. After he extinguished the second candle, he moved back toward the middle of the altar and bobbed his head again while he was turning around to hurry back down the aisle.
I smiled, remembering the feeling of embarrassment that everyone was looking at me. As I glanced around the congregation most people were smiling. They’d seen the kid’s embarrassed, hurried approach to acolyting. Maybe some of them had been acolytes, too, when they were young.
As I stood there for the last few minutes of the service I started thinking of how often in my day to day life I do the exact same thing. I’m so focused on hurrying along so that I get everything done, that I end up not really focusing on anything that I’m doing while I’m actually doing it. Never really present. Not fully, anyway.
I drifted over the past few weeks. All the times that I’d said my prayers while I was doing something else, or maybe two other things. Saying the words, going through the motions. But not really praying. Not really communing.
I thought about all that I have to be thankful for. And how instead of really taking a moment and offering thanks, I often tend to kind of acknowledge it, and maybe even mumble something, as I’m moving on to the next task. Often losing the sacredness of the moment in the hurriedness of the day. Not really even being present. Much less, trying to be in the presence of God.
That young acolyte, bobbing his head while he moved on to the other candle, but never really stopping to bow. That acolyte was me.
I put my head down for a second. Struck with this sudden realization of what I’ve been doing. And took a moment and apologized. For not really being present much of the time. For allowing distraction and hurriedness to often keep me from fully participating in my relationship with God, as well as my relationships with my family and loved ones.
I renewed my commitment to what’s important in my life, and identified once again those distractions which really aren’t at all important.
And I vowed, once again, to take the time to stop. And to bow.
penniesonmypath 