Every Sunday, millions of faithful flock to their local church to celebrate Mass together. But in every act of worship exists another form of devotion acted out behind the curtains. While priests are the heads of their respective parishes, not every church worker is ordained. Albeit less visible, lay workers—non-ordained members of the church—serve as the resonant hum in the background of every Mass. “We believe we have been called to do those things for the greater glory of God,” shares Victoria Neri, the vice president of the Divine Mercy Shrine Foundation in Misamis Oriental.
Outside the hierarchy of the Catholic Church, these parish servants dedicate themselves to guiding the faithful in worship. Through their service, these ordinary members of the laity help transform the church into something extraordinary.
A ministry of meticulous care
Devotion to the church is not confined to a single expression. While some sit in the pews and speak prayers aloud in Mass, the Church’s right-hand workers exemplify theirs through meticulous preparation, coordination, and care. “We help the parish priest in the management and administration of the activities within the parish,” explains Ferdinand Sadie, the assistant coordinator for St. John Paul II Parish. Similarly, Maria Gina Cejuela, as a liturgy coordinator at the University, sees to it that worship proceeds in an orderly fashion. By handling the logistical burdens that come with each Mass, she believes that she sufficiently makes the “task of the priest easier,” unburdening the clergy to carry out their ministry and connect with the community.
In parish work, invisibility is the metric of success. “If the person is focusing on the periphery, the external preparations, they can’t immerse themselves in the spirit of the Mass,” explains Cejuela. “Our job, our ministry, is to make [the Mass] flawless. Seamless enough, so the doors to feel Jesus are opened,” she continues. Thankless and without need for appreciation, these unseen servants find fulfillment in the solemnity of their faithful community.
For Cejuela, labor unfolds in the sanctum of Mass preparation, where countless calibrations from her carefully tended schedules take a life beyond her checklist. She coordinates with priests and choirs for the University’s daily Masses and drafts personalized liturgical guides and prayers, embodying true custodianship of the sacred. Similarly, Sadie bears the responsibility of preparing special novenas and coordinating readers for the Mass. Meanwhile, Neri oversees community development projects, such as the construction of the Divine Mercy statue and a perpetual adoration chapel, alongside the logistical challenge of organizing hospitality and food for thousands of pilgrims and visiting priests during major feast days.
Despite the administrative nature of their duties, their role in the church extends beyond mere operational tasks. For Neri, this takes shape in the spiritual formation of the community, conducting theological seminars and workshops to deepen her parish’s understanding of the Eucharist. Likewise, Cejuela’s decades-long history of service in liturgy coordination at the University manifests in the way she carefully guides volunteers into liturgical life. This collective conviction to serve the Lord, no matter the role or circumstance, underpins the realities of the job. As Sadie reprises, “In service, you have to put spirituality first. Whether you’re serving [in] the parish or not, that is [the] one thing you have to focus on.”
When service becomes a calling
For many parish workers, service to the Church is a commitment cultivated over years of participation. Sadie spent much of his childhood immersed in church activities, where simple involvement evolved into a source of belonging. Through parish work, he forged friendships, opportunities to connect with neighboring communities, and a place that felt increasingly like home. “The more service I have, the more closer to home,” Sadie shares.
For Neri, her calling stems from a sense of obligation and responsibility to do something for the Lord, even when it entails financial sacrifices. “We spend so much for the events,” Neri shares. “We are only depending on donations because we don’t have salaries.” As donations fall short, she and other members contribute from their own pockets, viewing it as part of their tithing if it means serving the Church.
Similarly, Cejuela views her career as secondary to the opportunity to experience Jesus and God in the Church. “It’s ministry because it’s beyond the work,” Cejuela explains. Yet ministry also demands long hours, emotional resilience, and perseverance. Once, Cejuela recalls finding herself in tears after a particularly frustrating service. “Lord, bakit?” she remembers asking, her disappointment compounded by the physical exhaustion of ensuring that everything was in order.
(Lord, why?)
Ultimately, their dedication is rooted in a belief that service is not merely something they do, but something they are called to do. “We all have our missions to fulfill, and I think my involvement in the church is my mission,” Neri reflects. After years spent nurturing parishes behind the scenes, their service has become deeply intertwined with their identities. Volunteer work has grown into a vocation that shapes their purpose, strengthens their faith, and helps sustain the communities they were called to serve.
All my actions for the love of you
More than a building, the church is the people themselves. Without devotees who go to Mass every Sunday, celebrate the Simbang Gabi before Christmas, or practice solemn traditions during the Lenten season, there is no church. It is then the job of these tireless servants of the Mass to nurture and cultivate the faithful, building a church that is worthy of its congregation. Without their efforts, the pews become empty, and the lectern collects dust.
“Gusto ko nga, sana nakaharap lang ako sa altar table, hindi ako masyadong pansinin,” Cejuela shares. Ayaw kong ako ‘yung na-eelevate.” In their unseen labor, parish workers are the beams of light that illuminate their parishes, their effort only realized through the brilliance of the Mass.
(All I really want is to face the altar table, I don’t want to be noticed nor elevated.)
