Boot Camp

Last week, we had acolyte training at church. I'm assuming most people are familiar with the basic duties of an acolyte: light the candles, hand the offering plates to the ushers, help with communion - that kind of stuff. We have 4th and 5th graders do this, because they think that being an acolyte is the COOLEST THING EVER (whereas junior high kids sigh with boredom and wish they were dead rather than get up in front of everyone in a dumb white robe).

I was really excited and impressed that one of our junior high kids wanted to help with the training. I don't really know this kid; I know his dad a little bit, and his mom a little less. He's clearly very smart and mature, and I thought the fact that he volunteered to help teach this class was really wonderful. He said he would take the kids through the routine of a Sunday, while I was to give a basic intro and closing, and answer questions.

So. We had ten kids show up. Ten happy, excited, a-little-too-interested-in-the-candlelighter kids who were eager to acolyte and help on Sunday morning.

By the time we were done, we had nine nervous, worried, over-informed, FREAKING OUT graduates of Acolyte Boot Camp (one dropped out as soon as the training was over, nearly crying: "I don't want to do this," he said in a trembling voice). It turns out that Eager Junior High Volunteer would probably thrive in a career as a prosecutor, army general, or IRS agent. Now I am in a rather strange position.

How do you tell a junior high kid that he is not a good fit for helping train acolytes? Because he's not. He made them turn counter-clockwise at the altar (he stopped and made them do it over if they turned the wrong way, and let's face it - kids with digital clocks don't know what the hell "counter-clockwise" is anyway). When one girl asked nervously what she should wear, he answered, "church clothes." "What about shoes?" she asked. "Well, I usually wear church shoes," he said sternly, "do you have church shoes?" "No," she said quietly. "Well, you should probably get some," he retorted, and then moved on to the next question.

The church is full of people with control issues. This we all know. But they usually show up a bit later in life. If you have any helpful tips about how to deal with Mr. Boot Camp, please let me know.

Meanwhile, I'm hoping he's not acolyting this Sunday, because if I turn the wrong way, I'm pretty sure I might get hit on the head with a candlelighter.