1965 Confessions of a Sacristan

You may recall that seniors were given an area of responsibility to oversee. It might have been operation of the fill-in, running the
stationery store, being a freshman or sophomore dorm prefect/monitor, cracking the whip in the laundry sorting room, or several other such
jobs.

During the second semester of my senior year, I was tapped as head sacristan. A junior and two sophomores worked under me. Besides
keeping the sacristy clean, duties included polishing chalices, keeping the main and side altars tidy, setting out missals book-marked to the
correct day of the liturgical calendar, and setting up vestments for ordinary and solemn or high Masses, Benedictions, Adorations, evening
services, etc.

About seven sets of vestments had to be set out at night for the following morning. These were stored in long drawers
under a waist high counter on which the vestments were placed - in reverse order whereby the celebrant dressed. On top was the alb, then
stole, maniple, cincture and finally the chasuble. (Still with me?)

The color of the chasubles to be used on any given day was dictated by a review of the Ordo, a small black book which outlined the particular
rubrics to be followed for Mass on a particular liturgical calendar day.  Red for feasts of martyrs, black or violet for requiems, green for
"ordinary days".

The thing about the Ordo was that it was written in Latin, and abbreviated Latin to boot! So "red" wasn't ruber, it was rbr.

Anyway, one evening we were preparing for a special Benediction to be officiated by three priests. The impressively stout walk-in sacristy
vault was open, to gain access to the monstrance. In it also were housed all the chalices used during masses.

Because of the special event it was necessary to recruit a crucifer (cross bearer, usually a junior), thurifer (another junior carrying the thurible or incense
container, whose contents had to be lit just prior to moving out), and six or eight freshmen whom I believe we called "cerferrari" though I
can't confirm the word. It was a combination of cera (wax) and a word related to ferre (to carry). So they were the candle holders. Along with
assistants the busy sacristy bulged with at least 15 people.

All the candle bearers had to be dressed in cassocks and surplices as well, and about half had put them on backwards. They're two foot candle
holders and equally long candles were about to being laboriously lit (no butane lighters then). The priests were still dressing and things were
going well until I suddenly noticed that the thurifer was not to be seen. Coincidentally the massive door to the vault was shut. He had
wandered in probably awestruck by the shining and be-jeweled goldware.  Obligingly, someone had closed the door (an underclassman I suspected),
trapping him in the lighted "crypt", giving the combination dial a good spin.

Rather frantically I searched my memory for the combination to the lock. Pulling open the door on the third try we noticed the junior, his back still to us, admiring the merchandise, apparently never aware of his one-time entombment. Nor had the officiants noticed anything, their attention being paid, I mused, to the Latin text they soon would be uttering to the waiting congregants.

Hoping to get everyone out the door and in front of the altar, I prayed for no more mis-steps. But that was not to be. A particularly bored, fidgeting
candle bearer standing behind me had placed his candle holder and lit candle upright on the ground. He then managed to pass his surplice's
long, flowing sleeve over the flame.

I think I first noted the smell.  Turning around I saw the hapless boy trying to extinguish the better part of the right side of his burning garment. What was funny -
if anything could be - was how calm everyone seemed. We got the flame pretty well patted out with someone's jacket and slipped the smoldering
vestment off the victim. If the priests even saw this, they didn't seem alarmed! Dressed in a fresh white surplice, the procession moved out.
And I never heard a word about it.

Tom Weisrock - SAS 1965

Year: 
1965