Category Archives: Music for the Liturgy

Music and the Imagination

Over the weekend I attended the second annual Prairie Troubadour symposium in Fr. Scott, KS, on the topic of The Restoration of the Imagination. The conference included a great line-up of speakers including Christopher Check, Dale Alquist and Anthony Esolen (among others) and finished with an evening of cigars and whiskey with the speakers and a host of great old friends (and now some new ones). As Belloc once wrote, “Wherever the Catholic sun doth shine, There’s always laughter and good red wine. At least I’ve always found it so. Benedicamus Domino!” How delightfully true!

With the symposium fresh on my mind, I thought today I would take up the topic of the imagination again and its relation to sacred music, especially since most of our readers are engaged in the work of liturgical music, whether as a professional or as the true amateur.

In an article entitled The Importance of the Imagination, Laura Birquist notes that “[t]he old adage ‘You are what you eat’ could be changed truthfully to say, ‘You are what you see and hear’… If the soul has in it good, true, beautiful, noble, and heroic images, it will be disposed to become like those things. For as St. Thomas says, ‘The beautiful and the good are the same in subject because they are founded on the same thing, namely the form’ (Ia, q.5, a.4).”

Of course, the opposite could also be said. If the soul has in it evil, lies, ugly and base images, it will be disposed to become like those things, and therein lies the great problem of modern culture–we are inundated with people who find the good things repulsive, the true things nothing more than the demagogue’s opinion, the beautiful things mere tools for propaganda and noble and heroic ideals the notions of extremists. This could all be said equally of ugly music (I won’t call it ugly sacred music, for there is no such thing).

“Nay,” the church musician shouts. “Just give the congregation Gregorian chant and everyone will love it! They will recognize how beautiful it is.” Oh, if only that were true. When those in the congregation have weaned their imaginations at the breasts of pop culture and its cult of the material and sensual, they will have no inner receptivity to the beautiful and sublime treasury of sacred music, whether the ancient sound of chant or the modern sound of Part and Taverner. The question becomes how to form the imaginations of our young people in such a way as to attune their hearts to music that will ultimately lift them to heavenly realities. This process begins at home. The music a child hears and sings around the family hearth, surrounded by loved ones, will have a greater bearing on his receptivity to Palestrina and Messiaen than teaching him classes on sacred music (although this will be important later). In the same way, the music he sings in his Catholic school and in his school Masses will form his adult ideas about music and ultimately about God (be sure to read The Casualties of Bad Church Music). This is no unimportant topic.

If you want your children to know, love and serve God, it is up to you as parents to guide them along that path, and I would caution you to make good music an important part of the way. Do you yourself, especially you fathers, sing good music on a daily basis? Do you listen to good music? Make sure that true folk music forms the basis of what you sing and listen to. If your music comes primarily from the radio, just realize that such music is not “popular” or “folk” music in the classical sense. It does not come from the shared experiences of a people who have come together striving to live the good life, and therefore you will be shooting your efforts in the foot. There is plenty in the line of Anglo/Irish/Scotch/American folk music. If your ancestors come from other areas learn a few songs from that tradition. Include great hymns in the repertoire and consider ending your family night prayers by singing the proper Marian antiphon for the season. Your children will easily pick these up. Or, as one speaker at the symposium commented, teach your children how to dance and hold community dances. When you form your children in such a manner, exposing them to REAL music (nothing mass produced), they will naturally cross the bridge to an appreciate of the sublime beauty in the Church’s treasury of sacred music. Along the via pulchritudinis (the way of beauty) they will come to know Him Who is Beauty itself.

Singing for Cardinal Burke’s Pontifical Low Mass

Last Thursday, the Feast of St. Cyril of Alexandria, the Most Pure Heart of Mary Schola Cantorum was blessed to sing for a Pontifical Low Mass celebrated by H.E. Raymond Cardinal Burke at the Church of St. Anthony-St. Mary in Kansas City, KS. This was the first time the choir sang for Holy Mass celebrated according to the Ancient Latin Rite, and to be honest, I was a bit nervous about what all the children would think. In the end, the choristers gave the Lord some of the best singing they have ever produced and the Mass prompted one of the choristers to ask last Sunday if they could use the Communion Rail in our own parish from now on to receive Holy Communion (I took a poll, and all the choristers save one wanted to continue the practice). We shall see what the future brings.

For my own part, I have sung for and lead numerous choirs singing sung Masses in the Extraordinary Form, but never Low Masses (this Mass being the first). The Schola Cantorum sang Tallis’ If Ye Love Me before Mass, Grieg’s Ave Maris Stella during the Offertory, the traditional chant Adorote devote, Messiaen’s O sacrum convivium and Mawby’s Ave verum corpus during Holy Communion and Holy God, We Praise Thy Name for the Recessional, immediately followed by Scarlatti’s Exultate Deo. While the choir sang everything very well, I have to admit that I missed singing the Ordinary and Propers of the Mass. It made me realize how much more I prefer singing the Mass instead of singing at the Mass, whether or not the Ordinary or Extraordinary Form. Nevertheless, I told Cardinal Burke that is was a blessing for us to sing for the Mass and assured him of our prayers. He graciously joined us for a picture, which I would like to share with everyone.

Schola with Cardinal Burke

Beauty, Music and the Sacred Liturgy

Mr. Joe Heschmeyer, a seminarian in our archdiocese and a student at the North American College in Rome, maintains an excellent blog entitled Shameless Popery, where he recently authored a post entitled The Worship of Beauty, and the Beauty of Worship. As I read his post I remembered a homily I heard delivered to a group of young people by an excellent priest who impressed upon the youth in the congregation that Sunday Mass (and Holy Day Masses) must constitute a non-negotiable in the Christian’s spiritual life. In an attempt to combat various reasons young people gave for not going to Mass every Sunday (it’s boring, I don’t get anything out of it, the music is bad) he boldly stated that as nice as hearing beautiful music at Mass was, we didn’t go to church for the music. I happened to be sitting in the congregation at that Mass in the front row and when he spoke the aforementioned words, he looked at me as if to ask me to nod my approval to what he had just spoken. While I would ultimately agree that we don’t go to Mass because of the music, I couldn’t help feeling that he missed the heart of the matter,namely, Who is the music for? As Mr. Heschmeyer notes at the beginning of his post:

“A frequent source of in-fighting amongst Christians involves beauty. How beautiful should our churches be? How beautiful should our Liturgies be? And why? In these discussions, there are two points that often go overlooked:

  • We Worship Beauty.
  • Created Beauty Points towards Divine, Uncreated Beauty.
  • Obviously, we don’t worship created beauty, but we literally do worship uncreated Beauty.” At the same time, “Creation rightly serves as a sort of ‘road’ leading to its Creator: beauty below points to Beauty above.”

    Truth, Goodness and Beauty are the three so called transcendental properties of being. Unlike attributes, Truth, Goodness and Beauty are Who God is in His very essence. Therefore, we can’t say that God is truthful, we must say that He is Truth itself. We can’t refer to God as being good in the sense of good being a description of His divine Person. We must say that God is Goodness itself. Likewise, we can’t say that God is beautiful, we must say that He is Beauty itself. All three of these properties of being have a definitive bearing on the celebration of the Sacred Liturgy.

    First, the Sacred Liturgy must be true. The real and valid matter and form must be used. The Word of God is “living and true.” The Creed is a true true statement about God and His Church. In the same manner, the Sacred Liturgy must also bear witness to the Goodness of God, His loving Fatherhood, His Justice, His unfathomable mercy toward each of us, His plan for our life with Him and with each other. Finally, the Sacred Liturgy must be Beautiful. The word of God is beautiful. The act of consecration is beautiful. The Blessed Sacrament is Beauty Himself. However, since God the Father has hallowed all of creation in the Incarnation, all creation must therefore proclaim the Praise and Glory of God, which means that everything, the music, the architecture, and especially the soul of the priest and the souls of all the faithful present are called to be beautiful as well.

    Yes, the Mass would still be valid (presuming valid matter and form) and of infinite worth whether or not the priest were a heretic, the faithful were bored and disengaged to the last man, woman and child, the music were terrible, the building ugly, and if there were a hatred shown for the widow and the orphan. At the same time, I can’t think of a better way to show ingratitude to our Heavenly Father. Such a state of affairs merely shows our own spiritual poverty.

    Ultimately, the Sacred Liturgy must be True, Good AND Beautiful. As Mr. Heschmeyer writes, “If Augustine is right that God is Beauty, then a Church without beauty would be as absurd as a Church that rejected truth or goodness. A full-fledged rejection or disregard of Beauty would literally be rejecting and disregarding God. So it’s not an option, or a perk. We need to take beauty seriously. And created beauty helps us by pointing us towards the true Divine Beauty.”

    Of course, the lived poverty of Christ is often presented as the impetus for whitewashed churches, banal music, fuzzy homilies and any other number of travesties perpetrated in the name of Christ. But Mr. Heschmeyer rightly points the reader to three biblical realities regarding the right worship of God. First, we have the example of the Israelites in the desert and the very detailed instructions given by God Himself regarding how He is to be worshiped. Secondly, we have the example of the costly perfume poured out by Mary of Bethany onto the feet of Christ (and don’t forget our Lord’s rebuke to Judas when the latter bemoans the waste of so much money that could have been spent on the poor) in St. John’s Gospel. Lastly, we have St. John’s description of the New and Eternal Jerusalem and the Eternal Liturgy that takes place in Heaven. All three examples point us to the conclusion that God is very much concerned with Beauty because He is concerned with our well being and He knows we need Beauty.

    While It is true that we have to guard against worshiping created matter instead of the Creator (Israel’s constant problem), it is also true that without created beauty we will never enter into communion with out Lord (the Sacraments being prime examples). Perhaps beauty in the Sacred Liturgy makes us uncomfortable in the same way that a bad husband or father is uncomfortable around a good husband or father and feels the need to justify his bad behavior. Perhaps we are uncomfortable with beauty in the Sacred Liturgy because it makes us realize that our hearts have grown cold and no longer have the energy to spend so lavishly and exuberantly on Christ. Perhaps beauty will return to the Sacred Liturgy when we once again turn our hearts to the Lord.

    Chorister Training Pitfalls

    I would like to point the reader to a helpful article that appears in the latest edition of The American Organist magazine (January 2017) by Sarah MacDonald, director of the Ely Cathedral Girls Choir (Ely, England). Mrs. MacDonald writes a monthly UK Report, sharing her extensive knowledge of the English Cathedral music tradition and the training of child choristers and chapel organists. She brings a professionalism to the discussion of training children in the art of sacred music that is often lacking due to a misguided belief that the quality of our liturgical music should be sacrificed on the altar of good intentions. In her current article she tackles 4 pitfalls she feels entrap choral directors working with grade school and junior high children: range, vocal sound, quality of literature (both musically and textually) and finally sight-singing. I would like to briefly touch on each of these.

    Mrs. MacDonald believes the greatest concern when working with children is choosing music in the child’s range (Eb 4 to Ab 5 in terms of the piano keyboard) and tessitura (around D 5), which can be difficult when most of the church music in hymnals is pitched lower than it was in previous eras. This is also compounded by the natural desire of children to imitate the so called “pop-music” they hear on a daily basis. Children might resist singing in their head voices simply because they have never experienced the sensation before, but it is worth the effort, both for the health of their voices and for the increase of enjoyment of their singing.

    The second problem MacDonald identifies is a lack of any quality in vocal sound and choral blend. I find such artistry is often sacrifice in the director’s drive to “get the notes correct.” If the director had chosen easier music, especially simple music in unison, this would have provided more time to pursue a beauty in presentation that possesses the power to move the heart of the listener (I accuse myself of this often).

    Third, Mrs. MacDonald stresses the need to chose choral literature of high quality both musically and textually. She writes “Avoid platitudinous or patronizing poetry–children can (and should) be taught to read and understand sophisticated texts as well as any adults. Teach them to have good taste in well-crafted repertoire.” I think more than enough electronic ink has been spilled attacking the ongoing problem of bad music and bad lyrics in church (I think of my experience as a child singing Great things happen when God mixes with us from the Glory and Praise hymnal in my Catholic grade school) so I will say no more.

    Finally, she makes a plea to choir directors to teach children how to read music. She reasons that teaching children to know only a few concepts by rote is unacceptable in any other school subject, so why should it be so in music. Why should children be shackled to the unfortunate circumstance of only being able to sing a few good pieces of music because that is all they ever learned by rote? The earlier music teachers and directors lay a good foundation in sight-singing, the easier it will be for children to learn.

    If I might be permitted to add my two cents to end this discussion, I think we as Catholics have an incomparable advantage in the Roman Rite in the possession of Gregorian chant (not withstanding the challenges of actually using it in the Ordinary Form). The repertoire is large enough to encompass any vocal range (and can be pitched accordingly), is very moving when sung in a beautiful, free vocal tone, contains music and text of the highest artistry and the simpler hymns and antiphons can be read at sight after the child is proficient in the use of solfege. Thankfully, even if your parish is stuck at Ground Zero, musically speaking, the number of pastors who would squelch even the occasional Gregorian hymn sung beautifully by a children’s choir is fast diminishing.

     

     

     

    When to Teach Children to Sight-Read Gregorian Chant

    I have heard it stated several times by those who love chant that teaching children to read plainsong is easier than teaching them to read tonal music, however, experience has shown me that this position is dubious at best. Examples given of easy pieces to teach children have included the Kyrie from Mass XVI or the Salve Regina, which ARE easy if the goal is to teach children by rote (especially considering these works are built upon the major scale and include large amounts of repetition in their melodies). I do not doubt that children can and should be taught Gregorian chant by hearing and repeating (after all, one learns one’s native tongue in the same manner), but this binds them to singing only what they have already memorized. I want to find the best way and time to teach them to sight read chant as well, otherwise, the Propers will always be out of reach of my choristers.

    At the end of each rehearsal we close by singing either the Salve Regina, the Alma Redemptoris Mater or the Regina coeli (we will eventually add the Ave Regina Coelorum) depending on the season. The Senior Choristers also love singing the Missa cum Iubilo (who can blame them), but teaching them to sight read chant on a daily basis was a process. Beginning last fall the high school boys joined the men singing the Communion antiphon each Sunday, which has been more successful than not,  so I would like to share with you some of the insights I have gained along the way with the hope that they might prove useful.

    Firstly, I taught them the Gregorian antiphons as opposed to simplified English versions based upon an experience I had several years ago when I first introduced the Communion antiphons to our adult choir. After several months of singing mainstream English versions of the antiphons I had to confront an undercurrent of rebellion (and this is not a generalization). The few who could already read chant preferred singing the real ones (the Gregorian versions), while those who knew nothing about chant thought the English versions were boring (and I had to agree). After switching to the Gregorian antiphons there were still members who didn’t care to expend the energy learning them, but two or three mentioned to me that at least the Gregorian ones were beautiful to listen to.

    Secondly, I had to realize that even though there were only two clefs in chant and no key signatures to confront, the sounds of the scales were completely different. Even though there were no accidentals to speak of, with the exception of flatting the Ti, the boys frequently encountered intervals that they didn’t often sing. Even though there were only four lines instead of five and I didn’t have to teach quarters, halves and whole notes, the music looked different and was therefore a hurdle that had to be overcome for every singer. Thankfully, the boys had heard these antiphons sung every Sunday for the last several years, so they were familiar with the sound of the Communion antiphon. They had sung quite a bit of Latin motets so they at least had a general idea of how to pronounce the words and even recognized a few.  These might seem like little hurdles, but put together, they were a formidable wall to scale for those new to chant.

    I started with a simple explanation of the two clefs so the boys could find Do (they were already familiar with solfege) and then pitch the other intervals. Also, I explained that the notes were read left to right, bottom to top. I didn’t mention any exceptions until we faced them in the music. The first rehearsal I had them sight-read the chants on solfege very slowly, phrase by phrase, until they were comfortable with each one. This was often all we tackled  in the first rehearsal of each antiphon. The second rehearsal began the same way, after which I had them switch to the Latin text and gave them a brief explanation of its meaning, especially of the important words. They knew from their years in the choir that I was more concerned that they “sing the text” than “sing the notes,” so the fact that the melody didn’t move in a strict meter didn’t bother them. As they became familiar with the process of reading neumes and the sound of the modes, I explained more and more, both musically and liturgically. To be honest, about 2/3 of the boys are thrilled about the chants and the other 1/3 don’t like them at all, with no middle ground. I pray that time will soften a few hearts.

    Six months later, some of the boys have become contributing singers to our small chant choir, while the others continue to grow. I know that next year will be easier as we go through the same chants for the second time. If any of our readers have suggestions for improving the learning process, I would be happy to hear them. At the same time, I would caution the new choir master, or the choir master new to a parish that diving into the murky waters of teaching young people to read chant before they can read tonal music could prove to be a very taxing process that would be better left to the future. I say this because my goal of introducing all of the Propers back into at least one of our Sunday Masses is a process not unlike building a new home, and if I don’t lay a good foundation and build upon that foundation in a methodical way, the home might very easily collapse. I wish you the best as you build your programs of sacred music.

    God or Nothing

    When the last piece of wrapping paper fell from my presents at my in-laws on Christmas morning, I couldn’t wait to crack the spine of one particular gift, Nicolas Diat’s conversation with Cardinal Sarah, entitled God or Nothing. I heartily recommend the book to anyone who hasn’t yet read it. Today I would like to share with you the good cardinal’s assessment of the crisis of Faith in the modern western world and how it relates to the topics of liturgy and music in particular.

    Sarah rightly notes that this crisis of Faith, or silent apostasy, is primarily a “Crisis of God,” which has been going on since long before the middle of the 20th century. In 2000, then Cardinal Ratzinger referred to the 1933 words of a European priest that “[t]he crisis reached by European Christianity is no longer primarily or at least exclusively an ecclesial crisis… The crisis is more profound: it is not only rooted in the situation of the Church: the crisis has become a crisis of God.” It is absolutely essential to keep this reality before us (the “crisis of God”), especially in light of the Church’s focus on evangelization in the last few decades. Both St. John Paul II and Pope Benedict XVI were acutely aware of this problem and confronted it continually. They even began their pontificates with encyclicals focused on the person of God (Redemptor hominis and Deus caritas est respectively). Sarah, following the thought of Pope Benedict XVI, then makes the point that the Second Vatican Council was primarily aimed at battling this problem. Rather than summarize Sarah, I would like to share with you his very own words.

    “Indeed, on the subject of Vatican Council II, we will never be able to thank Pope Benedict XVI enough for his hermeneutical work and his authentic interpretation of the will of the Council Fathers. The fact that I refer to his analysis goes to show that the intention of the Council has not been understood full.

    “Joseph Ratzinger grasped quite accurately the fact that John XXIII wanted first of all to respond to a major challenge for the modern world: receiving God as he manifested himself in Jesus Christ…

    “From the start of Vatican II, although concerned about aggiornamento, the renewal of the Church, and the reunion of Christians, the pope had strongly emphasized that the Council’s chief task was to reveal God the the world (my emphasis), to defend and promote doctrine.” (I find this last part interesting.) 

    Sarah notes that Pope Benedict “invited us to focus our attention on the way in which [the constitutions of the council] are ordered,” revealing the intrinsically theological nature (my emphasis) of the council.  First of all comes Sacrosanctum concilium, focused on the Work of God, which should be preferred to all else. Speaking about the liturgy, Sarah says “Before all else, in the Church, there is adoration; and therefore God… [t]he foundation of the liturgy must remain the search for God.”

    Following the upon the council’s cornerstone, Sacrosantum concilium, comes Lumen gentium (Christ is the light of the nations), which expounds a theological vision of the Church, since the Church is “not a self-enclosed reality” but must be seen “in terms of Christ. The Church is like the moon. She does not shine with her own light but reflects the light of Christ.” After Lumen gentium comes Dei Verbum and finally Gaudium et spes. The Word of God (Dei Verbum) “is the heart of the message that the Church must reveal and transmit to the world,” while Gaudium et spes gives a vision for what the Church, fully alive and active in the modern world, should look like, namely a light shining in the darkness, bringing all men to the light of Christ and eternal salvation, praising and glorifying God.

    Sarah continues “unfortunately, right after the Council, the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy was understood, not in terms of the fundamental primacy of adoration, of the Church humbly kneeling before the greatness of God, bur rather as a book of formulas…. We have seen all sorts of ‘creative’ liturgical planners who sought to find tricks to make the liturgy attractive, more communicative, by involving more and more people, but all the while forgetting that the liturgy is made for God. If you make God the Great Absent One, then all sorts of downward spirals are possible, from the most trivial to the most contemptible…. Benedict XVI often recalled that the liturgy is not supposed to be a work of personal creativity. If we make the liturgy for ourselves, it moves away from the divine; it becomes a ridiculous, vulgar, boring theatrical game” (my emphasis). Do I hear and Amen!

    To return to my original thought on this crisis of Faith and its relationship to liturgy and music, I think we can slay the current and popular belief that by making the liturgy, and by extension liturgical music, “relevant” to people we will somehow bring them back to God. Neither can we do it by recreating marriage, theology, morality or anything else, even God Himself, in human likeness and form. This is nothing but the Devil distracting us from God Himself. Only when we learn once again to kneel in silent adoration before Christ in the Blessed Sacrament and with the apostle Philip ask Him to “show us the Father,” will the work of salvation be brought to fulfillment in us and in the world. Only then will His love transform us and the world. Stop the gimmicks, the committees, the meetings, the reports and knock on the door of the Father’s Heart. Trust Him. Let this be our goal in the new year!

    A Christmas Carol

    “‘Tis the season to… strike the harp and join the chorus.” One of my favorite pastimes in Christmastide is caroling with friends and family, accompanied by fine libations and delectable treats. Like the real wax candles that bedeck our family Christmas tree, though, caroling seems to have become an anomaly in the modern world–a bizarre ritual of old that delights the anthropologist but is of little other use. Christians as much as anyone else simply turn on the radio and think little more of it. Ask the average person in your parish to sing the first verse of Silent Night from memory and I wager he hasn’t got the mental reserve to make it half way through. Don’t doubt me.

    In opposition to this decay, I thought today I might refresh our cultural memory of, and hopefully our desire for, the once ubiquitous Christmas carol. To be honest, how many even know what a carol really is, from whence these beautiful songs came and why they are so important–not only for creating a festive mood, but for forming the imagination of our young people (and not so young) and passing on the Faith.

    Carols originated as circle dances, accompanied by singing, during the Medieval period. This dance-like quality (Angelus ad Virginem), as well as refrains (Birjina gaztetto bat zegoen, or The Angel Gabriel from Heaven Came) and texts in either Latin (Quem pastores), the vernacular (Es ist ein Ros’ entsprungen) or both (Psalite, unigenito) were popular–traditions maintained in the modern era. Carol themes run the gamut of the liturgical year or might be secular in nature (Deck the Halls), although the Christmas carol seems to have taken the high ground. Their texts are beautiful examples of popular piety put into words, whether a carol narrates a well know Gospel text such as the Annunciation (The Salutation Carol) or speaks figuratively about the time Mary bore the Christchild in her womb (Maria durch ein Dornwald ging).

    Carols developed around the same time as the great mystery and miracle plays (c. 1350-1450) in the golden age of Christendom (although no age is ever perfect) when the Church’s celebration of her liturgical life possessed the vitality to shape and form popular culture. Some carols, such as the Coventry Carol, were a part of these  mystery plays.

     

    European countries had a wonderful tradition of carols to which America contributed in her turn (It Came Upon a Midnight Clear and the Negro spiritual Rise Up, Shepherds, and Follow), but in the last seventy-five years the carol has become nothing more than warm sentiments crooned on winter evenings by the latest pop stars emanating from every electronic device imaginable. I’ll gladly admit to listening to and enjoying Bing Crosby or Frank Sinatra singing Adeste fidelis (in an era when even the great Hollywood stars knew a bit of Latin) or I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas, backed by a large choir and orchestra, but this is an impoverishment of the original carol.

    As our culture turns away from God, or more than likely, simply forgets about Him, the popularity of the carol has waned with the winter sun. I sometimes wonder if it isn’t partly the loss of the carol and many other worthy religious customs that has aided the demise of our Faith in the western world (and a loss of the true meaning of Christmas). I have noticed that parents who understand the importance of culture in the formation of their children and therefore instill  in their children a healthy skepticism toward the benefits of “popular” culture are more successful in raising faithful children. Perhaps it would be wise for families to resist the urge to turn on the radio and tune in to the popular “winter holiday” songs and rather, rediscover the simple beauty of the Christmas carol, a true folk tune full of beautiful imagery, Christian meaning and wonderful melodies. Then learn them as a family and sing them together. Click here for a great printable (and free) Christmas caroling book or here to listen to five hours of wonderfully sung Christmas carols.

    Keep the flame of the true Christmas spirit burning brightly, continue to wish your family and friends a Merry Christmas! and get together with those same beloved (and not so beloved) kin during the Twelve Days of Christmas and carol to your heart’s content. It is a wonderful way to instill in your children in the real meaning of Christmas, to marvel at the beauty and awesomeness of the Incarnation and to create lasting memories. While you are at it, make a bowl of Smoking Bishop (be sure to have the spirits you put in it blessed today on the Feast of St. John) and toast our heavenly Father, Who in His infinite love sent His Son to become man so that we might become like God! Merry Christmas!

    Appropriate Music for the Sacred Liturgy

    Several weeks ago David Clayton wrote a piece at The New Liturgical Movement about the push in church music over the last 5 decades to “connect with people by giving them music that is derived from already popular forms.” As he correctly notes, “The problem with this approach is that it can only connect to those people who actually listen for enjoyment to that style of music out of church.” I often observe this phenomenon at work in parishes and in dioceses–the desire to reach various groups with tailored liturgies and music to boot, whether it be the wee tots in parochial school Masses singing “This Little Light of Mine,” pimply faced youngster at Sunday evening Teen Masses strumming on guitars and shouting “Yes Lord, Yes Lord, Yes, Yes Lord,” or any number of graying adults singing at either the contemporary or “traditional” service on Sunday mornings. Gone are the days of the Sunday High Mass that brought together the entire parish family, young and old alike. Clayton also rightly noted that both Ordinary and Extraordinary Form communities fall pray to trap of old music versus new within Mass, which begs the question, where do we go from here? Where indeed!

    To begin with, this is not a problem that begins and ends with church music. It is very difficult to implement a program of truly sacred music, focused on the Lord, when so many of our Masses and other services are celebrated as if God were a side note, a somewhat supreme being who is content to stay in the background and ensure that we go no further than feeling good about ourselves and supporting each other in whatever lifestyle we might choose.

    Still, there must be a way to claw ourselves out of such a mess. I would suggest that we need to once again discover what the Sacred Liturgy is. If we really believe that God has called us first (and not the other way around), then we have to realize that the work of the Sacred Liturgy is His first. Not to say that He doesn’t allow men to shape the way the it is celebrated in different places and times (we see this in the differences between the various Rites of the Catholic Church). Nevertheless, we must find out His plan. We need to become familiar with the Liturgy in the Ancient Temple of the Israelites as well as the Holy Mass as celebrated in the New Testament. We need to become familiar with the Book of Revelation and the Eternal Liturgy of Heaven. We also need to read Ratzinger’s The Spirit of the Liturgy, for there is no better source for discovering God’s plan for the Sacred Liturgy. Only then will we be able to approach the question of what music is appropriate for the Mass and Divine Office. Only then will we see in Gregorian chant the archetypal music of the Roman Rite and only then will we be able to compose truly modern music (as opposed to recycled pop music with quasi Christian lyrics). We have a lot of work ahead of us.

    A Late Gift for Nicholasmas

    As the saying goes, better late than never. Already we find ourselves on the Feast of St. Lucy, a full week after the Feast of St. Nicholas, but nevertheless, I thought I would share with you a wonderful repository of all things St. Nicholas, that like the wise Virgins, you might find yourselves prepared for the feast next year.

    If you aren’t already familiar with it, St. Nicholas Center is a website dedicated to the holy man of Myra, and a must see. There are wonderful articles on the events in the life of St. Nicholas, the legends surrounding his personage, descriptions of how he became Santa Claus, Kris Kringle and various other gift givers and why St. Nicholas, who points to the crib instead of replacing it, is simply better.

    There are several sections of the website especially dear to me, such as its liturgical resources and musical resources. It contains prayers and collects from the saint’s feast, as well as the order of service used for the Enthronement of the Boy Bishop at Westminster Cathedral in London, English translations of Medieval miracle plays (here for the story of St. Nicholas and the Virgins) and many St. Nicholas carols from throughout the world.

    Unfortunately we live in a society in which parents can no longer allow the culture to help form their children, and in most instances are forced to fight such and un-cultural laviathon. As St. Nicholas made so bold as to punch the heretic Arius, I doubt he would have sat idly by as Christ was barred from His own birthday celebration. This website provides a wealth of materials for parents to help fight the commercialization of Christmas (and the loss of Advent altogether) and more importantly, once again put their children on the path to the Manger in Bethlehem.

    Where does your heart lie?

    Two weeks ago I wrote concerning a comment Msgr. Marini made in a talk regarding the friction that often results between priest and musician clash over matters musical withing the sacred liturgy. Over the next few weeks I would like to look at some of the other comments he made during his talk, points which I think are always important for us to remember.

    Msgr. Marini spoke about the ongoing battle between the external work of the musician at Mass, making sure that the music is technically and artistically performed, and the interior work of allowing the Holy Spirit to transform us into saints. How many of us have fought this battle within our own hearts, pouring all of our energies into making the music at Easter or Christmas (or any Sunday, for that matter) perfect and then realizing afterward that while we were physically present for the Holy Sacrifice, we were spiritually far from it. How many of us arrived home after Holy Mass and had nothing left to give our families (and never forget they are our actual vocation).

    In spite of all my faults (and my wife would gladly tell you how numerous they are), I feel that this is one area of my life in which I have a leg up, so to speak. I grew up in a family where my father was ALWAYS present. He earned a master degree in education but decided against going into the field because he knew he would have no time for his family. Instead he took a blue collar job in the oil field. When his time was up at work, he left for home and left work at work. His work time was flexible enough that he was able to get away for an hour whenever we had school plays, parent teacher conferences, etc. He came to so much that my siblings and I joked that we wouldn’t mind if he stayed home every once in a while. More importantly, he had an uncanny knack for knowing and keeping priorities in order. God was always first, even when vacation plans had to be moved around so we could drive three hours to the closest Mass for Assumption while traveling in Montana and Wyoming. We have to learn to keep priorities as musicians–God and family.

    I think what we can learn from this is that if you arrive at Christmas day and you haven’t been to confession, if your daily prayer has suffered and you haven’t eaten supper with your family at least five nights a week during Advent, then you are in too far. As musicians, we tend to love our work more than others, but that is no excuse for overextending ourselves. God really is concerned with internals before He is concerned with externals. Please don’t misunderstand, I believe in excellence and I abhor bad music badly sung within the sacred liturgy, we need regular practice, but we still have to get our priorities straight. Make a pledge to put God and your family first this Advent and Christmastide. Simplify the music at Christmas Masses if you have to. Take your family to confession. Pray before you ever get to work. And practice resignation once Mass begins, letting the music fall where it wills. You will arrive at Christmas Day (or any other day) full of the joy of the feast!