There was recently on BBC1 a series, written by William Ivory, called 'The Invisibles', featuring two retired safebreakers and a young colleague, obliged temporarily to return to their trade. In their day they had been elite in their class, appropriately dressed and equipped, efficient, slick, never caught out.

The comparison between them and those who serve at the altar had better end there. They, too, aim to be experts in what they do. They are a liturgical paradox, usually efficient, highly visible, yet their silent function is taken for granted during worship. Yes, there are discerning eyes in the congregation, but in general they are the live background, the almost invisible, the stagehands of the liturgy.

There is nothing new in this. In 251AD Cornelius, Bishop of Rome, listed the minor holy orders of the Latin church: porters, who were doorkeepers and vergers; lectors, exorcists, and acolytes - these last the most senior of the four.

The duties of acolytes, or servers, were to light the altar candles, to carry candles in procession, to prepare the wine and water for mass, and to assist the Ministers at mass. Proximity to the altar could result in promotion and acolytes were known to become administrators or secretaries to the Pope. To be an acolyte in those disputatious and persecuted times called for conviction, courage, even martyrdom. Many centuries and changes later, lay men and women, girls and boys continue in the same tradition.

In the ordered, open worship of the modern age, what is required from servers? Servers are part of the fluid pattern of an act of worship, being in place but ready always to respond to the unexpected. In their albs they cease to be individual worshippers; they become servants, most usually of the Eucharist, a lay part of the Sanctuary team.

We also sometimes have servers (unrobed) at weekday communions, who assist at the Offertory (preparing the elements) and the Ablutions (washing up). There is a quiet joy about these celebrations, shared with the few regular attenders.

Servers arrive by different routes: drawn into it when young, following family tradition, by invitation or the church's need, by a call to this work, simply carried into it by delight in the Lord. Essentially they are a group of individuals, friends, dedicated to playing their part in public worship with grace, simply and reverently, and always with prayer.

However, reverence is not without humour. There are 3 important rules for new servers: 1. Always be aware of the clergy; they can be unpredictable. 2. Give the incense plenty of swinging space. 3. Always, always, know where you are going next.

Worship has in it an element of theatre of which servers are a part. Servers feel mortified when they make a mistake, but also often feel fulfilled, awed at sharing in our amazing liturgy.

Bobby Craik

(Reprinted with permission from ‘Leaves’, the Southwell Cathedral Magazine (edited))