Also, I am aware the Magisterium of the Roman Catholic Church has strictly forbidden use of explicitly feminine language for God in the context of the Liturgy. Please understand that I DO NOT publicly support liturgical innovation or breaking of liturgical law, and therefore do not suggest that Catholic parishes use this hymn in Mass.

That being said, not all of the readers of this blog are Catholic. I know of at least one Lutheran (my first commenter!) and a handful of Episcopalians (talk about diversity!) who might be able to sing this in their Trinity Sunday services. Even the Catholics among you might find the text helpful for personal devotions or para-liturgicals.

That being said, I felt quite inspired to write this two years ago (on Trinity Sunday) and feel now inspired to share it here, regardless of the consequences.

Any parish or worshiping community is welcome to use the text freely. I originally had the tune HOLY MANNA in mind when writing it, but other tunes would work as well. Please include the copyright notice (look down), and PLEASE leave a comment or send a personal email to let me know you are doing it.

You may know by now that I try to walk a thin line between these two positions. I’m a lover of both chant (in English and Latin) and contemporary music. Like the USCCB, I find there is a strong pastoral case for vernacular hymnody, but I also think that Sacrosanctum Conciliam has been wildly misinterpreted by those who have completely banished the music of our heritage from the Liturgy.

In my (sometimes) weekly song suggestions for Sunday, I normally suggest vernacular songs and hymns relating to the lectionary readings, as opposed to the Propers. I do this for two reasons:

1. The vast majority of parishes in the US are doing vernacular songs and hymns, and those are the people I’m trying to help out.
2. If you are doing the Propers, you don’t need suggestions. You just do the Propers.

But when thinking about the Ascension Sunday, I couldn’t help but think that chanted Propers would be a particularly fantasic choice given the nature of the Solemnity and the texts of the Lectionary, and I wanted to expound on that thought a bit, as it may provide one more opening for chanted propers to find a way into Liturgy at your parish.

The Ascension is an event in which the Apostles (and we with them) witness the marriage of Heaven and Earth as Jesus, in His living body, is lifted from this world to His Throne. The angels come to testify to this event, asking the twelve why they are standing there “looking at the sky.” The earthy heavenliness of unaccompanied chant provides a particularly apt aural framework for experiencing this event in our present time. The otherworldliness of Chant, especially Chant in Latin, is evocative of the voice of the angels (especially since the Introit and optional Offertory are both the words of the Angels).

Gregorian chant is unmetered, that is, there is no forward movement of rhythm (of harmony, for that matter). The musical effect of this is that Chant feels set apart from Time- we do not experience the passage of time with Chant the way we do in metered music. This characteristic of Chant evokes the words of Jesus in the first reading, “It is not for you to know the times or seasons that the Father has established by his own authority.”

Another characteristic of Chant, it’s very nature as anonymously composed music of the Church (as opposed to music written by an indentifiable individual) evokes the epistle’s sanctuary not “built by human hands.”

If you are of a mind to do some Chant (or it’s close cousin, Sacred Polyphony), and have been trying to find a way to “work it in,” Ascension might provide the perfect opportunity. If your parish has never done the Propers, I wouldn’t suggest suddenly doing all of them. Since it it often the place for what the Protestants call “special music,” the Offertory is probably the best place to start. This would give you the opportunity to try out Chant in your community, and gauge its reception.

(Here is a recording of the Gregorian Offertory.)

Apart from the addition of chanted Propers, I don’t have much in the way of song suggestions for this Sunday. I highly recommend that you continue to carry forward songs from the Easter Vigil throughout the Easter season, so those choices will be very specific to your community (that’s why I haven’t been providing music selections for the Easter season- I plan to resume the practice with Ordinary Time).

If you are going to start using the Propers in Mass, I suggest you start with simple chant in English. The American Gradual or the Anglican Use Gradual are probably the best sources for chanted English propers. For the Latin chants, the English edition of the Gregorian Missal is a much more practical option than the Graduale Romanum, as it has English rubrics and translations (also, I’m currently unaware of a free, downloadable PDF version of the CURRENT Graduale Romanum).

If you are a bit more daring, and want to try some Polyphonic Propers, check out this index of Polyphonic Propers, assembled by Aristotle Esguerra. It is a growing listing of polyphonic settings of the Propers available free online. It looks to be all settings of the Latin text, and I am currently unaware of any major collection online of free polyphonic settings of the Propers in English.

The following is what I, personally would like to experience as a consumer of music at Mass.

Generally speaking:
1/3 Plainchant, mostly in English, sometimes in Latin
1/3 “Contemporary Catholic” music from the last 30-40 years: St. Louis Jesuits, a lot of David Haas, Dona Pena, Bob Hurd, Talbot, the Iona Community, Taize
1/3 A mixture of everything else- mostly Protestant Hymnody (especially early American), Sacred Polyphony (mostly Palestrina) and Choral music (mostly British), with a smattering of Contemporary Praise and Worship, Black Gospel, and other ethnic styles from time to time.

The choir and instrumentation:
Big choir.
Mostly piano based, with a rhythm section. It’s great if you can have a separate set drummer and hand drummer. A mandolin or other small lute instrument is a nice addition.
I usually can’t stand organ, so it would be no loss to me if there wasn’t one. (Again- this is just about what I personally like).
Most importantly, though- everyone doesn’t play on everything.
In fact- there should be a strong preference for acappella singing whenever possible, even with contemporary styles. Up to half of the music heard should be unaccompanied.

Which brings me to some specifics:

I want the Ordinary of the Mass (all the dialogues and all the acclamations) chanted, unaccompanied. In English (except perhaps the ones everyone knows well like the Kyrie and the Agnus Dei). There are some composed Mass settings I really enjoy as music, but all that stuff really clutters up what I think should be incredibly simple.

I enjoy the common “four song slots” practice- Gathering (Processional), Preparation (Offertory), Communion, and Sending (Recessional). Those would generally be the Contemporary music styles, with some taken from the last 1/3rd when textually appropriate.

In addition to hymns and songs, the Propers would be sung or chanted. For example- after the contemporary congregational singing during the procession, a Cantor or Schola would solo or lead the Introit. A similar practice would be taken with the other Propers. This would probably lengthen the Mass considerably- which would be fine with me (my preference, here, remember). Some compositional attempt would be made to connect the music of the Propers with the hymns and songs they are being paired with. That is a project I would gladly work on each week.

When the congregational communion song runs out of verses, the choir has the opportunity to sing some (textually appropriate) Palestrina or Tallis or Rutter or Faure or something beautiful along those lines. Sometimes the children’s choir sings. Sometimes we have instrumental music. This music is allowed to go on after everyone has received communion- there is no rush to get the Mass over with.

The congregation, of course, sings contemporary pop hymns and ancient chant equally well, full of joy and earthy heavenliness.

The Ordinary Form is used, and the Priest faces the people. (Prayers are addressed up and out, to God). Gestures are large- slow, and deliberate.

There is incense. There are bells at the Elevation. There are Gothic style vestments and deacons in dalmatics. Altar servers wear the traditional black and white. Processions take a long time. Everything takes a long time. There is plenty of silent space around each action, each reading, each prayer. There is no ad libbing (AT ALL), but the spoken prayers are read so sincerely that we all think they are the Celebrant’s own words. When we do clap, we clap on 2 and 4.

This wide variety of songs and styles will be very well planned out, so that it will feel like a unified whole and not a random collection of things. Great care will be taken with each element individually.

I’m probably missing some details. And I know that this hypothetical Mass would be two hours or more, and that lots of people would dislike at least 1/3 of the music. Some will call it too solemn, others not solemn enough.

I understand all of that. And again- I am not writing this to teach others about proper Liturgical programming. I just thought some of you may be interested in knowing what perfect Mass I have in my head when I dream about Liturgy.

So- rather than fill up my comments telling me that I’m wrong (since I can’t be wrong, because this was really just about what I want), I would like to encourage everyone to write about your perfect Mass.

Not what you think is right. Not what you think is Pastorally appropriate. Just, for the fun of it (maybe more), describe your ideal Mass- the Mass that would most completely cater to your needs, tastes, and desires.

But (and I know this will disappoint my faithful readers) I’m not going to provide a handy list for Holy Week. Here’s why:
Mostly, you need to do whatever you did last year.

Part of what makes the liturgical cycle of seasons work is familiarity. Once again we come back to the familiar customs of Advent, the old Christmas songs from childhood, that Taize piece we always do on Good Friday. Music from last year (and the year before, and the year before, and the year before) is what makes Palm Sunday feel like Palm Sunday. That’s the whole point (and power) of traditions.

So- Holy Week is not the time to be innovative. If you tried to be innovative last year, hopefully you learned your lesson- go back to the music they were doing before they hired you.

Should you do anything different at all?
Yes, but tread carefully. Don’t replace too many things. And if you’re going to spend your social capital on changes, make sure it’s worth it, and that you’re changing to something that will last (which probably means replacing the habitual piece with the more traditional piece, not with some cool, new piece).

In case you feel like the habitual Holy Week music in your parish is lacking, here are a few ideas for (mostly) traditional, imminently Catholic pieces you really should think about incorporating into your existing Holy Week repertoire, along with some thoughts about each day…

Palm Sunday

First of all, if anyone suggests doing “Hosanna, hey-sanna” from Jesus Christ Superstar, report him to this guy.

Other than that, nothing in particular for Palm Sunday, except a list of things I’ve experienced which I don’t like. But I try to stay positive here.

Holy Thursday

Please, please, please do a traditional procession of the Blessed Sacrament and sing “Pange Lingua.” In Latin. This is a “Catholic DNA” moment, and it should not be denied to anyone. It’s lovely. And important.

And if anyone complains that it’s long and boring, I have two words for them. “Jesus wept.”

Moreover- most parishes are not all Solemn High Mass with copes and veils and long vested processions most of the time. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that fact. But we need to see it at least a few times a year so that we understand where we came from and what we’re about. The procession, the exposition, the ritual stripping of the altar- all these things help us remember that millions of the faithful have done them before us. More than remember- when we do them we come to understand that we are not just repeating their actions but directly participating in them. This is the “Hermeneutic of Continuity” alive and well in even the most modern parish.

And by the way, while we’re on Holy Thursday. Don’t get too creative with the Washing of the Feet. There are several excellent options in use around the country. Having the priest wash the feet of the Elect or a cross-sample of the parish is probably the easiest. Having everyone wash everyone else’s feet is really wonderful, if quite long and logistically taxing.

Turning the foot washing into a mini-play, complete with a newly written text that highlights the meaning of these simple gestures is not one of the excellent options. Don’t do it.

Good Friday

I know it takes longer to get everyone through the veneration line, but please- only have one cross. When you have three crosses (to save time), you’re asking everyone who sits in those sections to come and venerate the thieves’ crosses. Not good.

Unless your Bishop has told you not to (apparently they do that sometimes) I’d recommend reinstating the Reproaches (unless you’re already doing them, then no need to reinstate).

If you’re not familiar, the Reproaches are a series of statements (spoken, chanted, or sung) in the voice of Jesus, asking us, his people, why we have treated him so poorly. “Oh my people, what have I done to you? Or how have I offended you?”

They act as a ritualistic examination of conscience. For a number of poor reasons they have fallen out of use, even though they are still part of the ritual of Good Friday. For more information on the Reproaches, check out the excellent article on them from my traditionalist friend, Jeffrey Tucker.

Because of the mistaken notion that the Reproaches are anti-Semitic (they’re not- but I don’t want to get into right now), the kinds of people who write contemporary church music tend to not do them, or even know about them. So I can point to no contemporary settings of this text. While I’m considering writing just such a setting for next year, it really is okay- the Good Friday service is a time for solemn chanting if there ever was one. (And heck- if you do the reproaches in Latin, no one will be able to think they’re anti-Semitic, since the most sensitive liberals in the room won’t know what you’re singing).

The Easter Vigil

First of all, sing the Exsultet. The chant version in the Sacramentary is really nice.

If your priest can sing, have him sing David Haas’ setting of the Blessing over the water, from the Who Calls You by Name collection. It’s fantastic.

Beyond that- I encourage you to get boisterous, get excited, get riled up… but don’t get too liturgically creative. Spend your energy practicing your songs and making them awesome. Spend your energy getting instrumentalists to come and rehearse. Spend your energy building a huge bonfire outside. Do not spend your energy trying to figure out where, other than the ambo, you can read the Genesis reading from. Or how to break up the Exodus reading into several parts. Or how to incorporate dancers into the invented Water Processional.

I’m not even saying any of those things are inherently bad or anti-good liturgy… if you had infinite time and resources. But you don’t. And every minute you spend over there trying to figure out how to move lectors around or getting the timing right with the lights and the dancers, is one less minute you can spend making sure that your choir full of white people claps on beats 2 and 4, sings in tune, and keeps up with the harpist. (You did hire a harpist, didn’t you?)

Back to music- I have to say that, for me, the music of Easter will always be the music of David Haas. Because of his love of, and deep involvement with, the RCIA process, David has written a number of incredible pieces of music for Easter. Especially check out “God is Alive,” “Christ is Risen, Shout Hosanna,” and “Alleluia! Let Us Rejoice!” His litany of Saints is pretty good, too, although there are better ones.

I’m not going to suggest any particular Mass setting. I suggest you do the one that is most familiar to the crowd of people who don’t come the rest of the year.

Easter Sunday

Do not omit the sequence.

That is all.

Easter Vespers

The celebration of the Triduum rightfully concludes with Solemn Vespers Sunday evening. Not many people are going to come, but you should do it anyway. I would chant the whole thing, given the option, with a liberal dose of Latin. Break out your Breviaries and have at it.

Let me preface my thoughts on the new settings with some context about me. I like contemporary music in Mass. I like pop and folk based composed through Mass settings. I generally consider myself a progressive when it comes to music in Liturgy. I do not particularly care for the new translations, and I strongly disagree with the need to implement them.

I’m saying all of that because I want my next statement to surprise you:

I think every parish in the English speaking world should start using the chants when they begin using the new texts. In fact- I think the chants are going to save the new translations.

At this point I’ll hedge my progressive street cred a bit by saying- I like chant anyway. BUT normally I would not advocate chant over other styles of music as a universal norm (I’m much more of a case-by-case basis kind of guy). Also- I’m trying (as best I can) to separate my thoughts on the effectiveness of the chants from my personal tastes.

So, let me elaborate a bit.

Part of what I dislike about the new translations is that they are (as was intended) more Latinate and hieratic. As much as “Et cum spiritu tuo” makes sense in Latin, “And with your spirit” sound ridiculous in English.

Let me correct, though- It sounds ridiculous in spoken English. As soon as I chanted it (even by myself in my apartment, hunched over my crap keyboard) it made so much more sense. (Especially the tune used in the preface to the Eucharistic Prayer).

Page after page I had that realization. These texts (in my humble opinion) are awful…. when spoken. They are lovely when chanted. (And the few that aren’t lovely are at least passable when chanted). Even my absolute least favorite line of the new text, “Lord I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof…” works when chanted in a way that simply does not work spoken.

And, while I can’t be sure without hearing some attempts, I have a pretty strong feeling that these simple chants will be much more effective than composed through settings in any style (contemporary or classical). I can tell you at least from my own experience- I’ve been trying to write a Mass setting with these new texts since I first saw them and have been completely unable to do so.

I would be very sad to see a wholesale reform of the Liturgy that excludes the singing of contemporary music. However, I think that simple chant, rather than composed-through settings, is the most viable way forward for the new translations of the Ordinary. The ease of the tunes, and the nature of unaccompanied monophonic congregational singing, brings both a powerful earthiness and a solemn heavenliness that most Mass settings lack (even the ones I like). Also, their unadorned nature means they will sit well in any other musical milieu- that is (while the real champions of the chants may disagree), this will feel equally “right” sitting next to Palestrina, David Haas, or Blue Grass- something no composed-through setting can ever accomplish.

Besides their inherent quality, I also think that using the new chant settings will help everyone “reset” their brains. It’s going to be very hard to use an adapted Mass of Creation: everyone will just sing what they already know. Likewise spoken dialogues such as the preface- what’s going to stop everyone from just saying what they’ve been saying for 40 years? Having to think about a chant tune, that’s what.

Also, these chants are free to use. That’s a whole lot better than having to buy 20 more choir editions (each) of the Mass of Creation, the Mass of Light, the Mass of Glory, the Mass of Endless Descants, the Mass of Faux multi-culturalism, the Mass of White People Clapping, and all the other Mass settings your parish has been mixing and matching acclamations out of for the last decade.

So- Use the chants.

Especially those of you least likely to use them: progressive suburban parishes that don’t like the new translations. I encourage you, before you give up on the new translations, or decide to grin and bear it while you wait for the Ecumenical Catholic Church to set up shop in your home town (ain’t gonna happen), give the new chants a try. Really- I’m way more like you than I am like them- and I think they’re exactly what we need.

This “reform of the reform” is meant as a corrective measure. “Yes, yes- we were meant to have a reform. Yes, Vatican II was great. It’s just that you all are doing it wrong.”

My first exposure to this attitude was typical of the young, progressive (maybe slightly heretical) American Catholic that I am: horror and fear. I don’t want to go back. I’ve seen pictures.

But since then, I increasingly have come to realize two things:

• The neo-trads are right. The reform was in fact handled poorly, and what is being done in the average American Catholic parish is not at all what the council had in mind when it wrote Sacrosanctum Conciliam.
• What the neo-trads envision is approximately as wrong as what we’ve been doing for the last 40 years, and is also not at all what the council had in mind.

I hadn’t read the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy since high school, so I read it (online!) in light of my recent thoughts concerning the reform of the reform. I’m sorry to say that I couldn’t read it in Latin, it having been 10 years since I last had to translate anything other than ritual prayer texts. I trust the English edition made available by the Vatican itself is of sufficient accuracy.

Upon reading again, it became very quickly obvious that both the progressives (by which I mean, the champions of the vernacular, the lovers of “Guitar Mass” and contemporary music, the glass chalice people, the kumbaya kids… often I include myself here) and the traditionalists (the Tridentine, Extraordinary Form, RotR people), if they bothered to read the document at all, have all cherry-picked the paragraphs and lines that support their own view point while excising the rest either through ignorance or death-by-interpretation. (Hey- at least we’re affording the documents of the council the same respectful treatment usually reserved for the Bible.)

In respect to those I most often disagree with (the Traditionalists) let’s start with what they are right about.

The most obvious point is the Council’s clear desire for the retention of several things which (in most US parishes) have completely vanished. Notably: the Latin language, Gregorian chant, and the large body of Sacred Music. (Less notably, the pipe organ.)

“Particular law remaining in force, the use of the Latin language is to be preserved in the Latin rites.”

The document goes on to specify that the vernacular languages could and should be used, and seems to give a great deal of lee-way to individual regions on exact implemenation. But even within that lee-way, it’s clear that the Council assumed that the Ordinary of the Mass (all those Eucharistic acclamations) would continue in Latin:

“Nevertheless steps should be taken so that the faithful may also be able to say or to sing together in Latin those parts of the Ordinary of the Mass which pertain to them.”

This could also mean, “You can do it in English most of the time, but do it in Latin often enough that everyone is still familiar with it.” Even with this more liberal understanding of the text, we have not lived up to their intent on this point at all.

“The Church acknowledges Gregorian chant as specially suited to the Roman liturgy: therefore, other things being equal, it should be given pride of place in liturgical services.”

Progressives (if they bothered to argue) would probably argue that other things are not equal. And they would be right, I think, to point out that Gregorian chant can be a hindrance to “Religious singing by the people,” which, according to a paragraph just a few lines down from the injuction to use chant, “is to be intelligently fostered so that in devotions and sacred exercises, as also during liturgical services, the voices of the faithful may ring out according to the norms and requirements of the rubrics.”

Still, current practice is a far cry from “Pride of Place,” even after taking into account the desire for congregational singing, and the document’s other calls for simplicity and ease.

“The treasure of sacred music is to be preserved and fostered with great care.”

It’s clear that the “treasure” is the great body of musical literature which the church has accumulated over the centuries, and which the council would like us to not forget or let lapse into disuse. Here again, the Traditionalists are right to criticize. When was the last time you heard Palestrina in Mass? For me, the answer is “never.” In fact, I heard more of Catholicism’s treasure of sacred music while attending an intensely liberal Episcopalian parish for 10 months than I have in 27 years in Catholic congregations.

My fellow progressives say… so what?

For many conservatives/traditionalists, it is enough that they said it- we should follow their directive. But we all know that such Ignation deference to the Church’s will is not commonly found among the Guitar-mass crowd (as much as we like to reference S.C. when it suits us). So- why is it important that we retain Latin and chant and Palestrina?

Well- the most obvious reason is retaining a common Catholic culture across liguistic, political, and cultural borders. I have read that during World War I, Catholic soldiers on opposing sides of the conflict were able to celebrate Mass together in Latin. (That anecdote would be better if they didn’t then go back and kill each other, but I still think it’s pretty cool.) With a common foundation in Latin, multilingual parishes would have a common language for the most relevant parts of the liturgy. And, most importantly, Catholic tourists would be able to go to Mass anywhere in the world.

Gregorian Chant (which is properly in Latin) likewise provides (or could provide) a common musical heritage allowing people to worship together regardless of musical background.

Additionally, as many regularly point out, humanity loses something when it loses it’s art. You wouldn’t toss out the Mona Lisa or the Pieta just because you’ve created something else new. But with music, it’s not enough that the manuscrupts sit in a library or museum. If no one sings it, it might as well not exist.

To those common arguments (cultural universalism and the need for preservation) I would add this in regards to chant: It is simple.

At several points in the document, as progressives like to point out, the Council calls for liturgies to be simpler. What we usually won’t admit is that Gregorian Chant is clearly the simplest musical option. To get more basic, you’d have to just speak the text. While I love contemporary music, and think that modern styles certainly have a place in Mass, it can wear me out after a bit.

Use of Gregorian Chant (in Latin) or an adapted chant setting of the English texts is a much less cluttered approach to the Mass. With all due respect to the composers of some really great Mass settings, I especially feel that chanting the Ordinary would be both spiritually useful and in line with the intent of Sacrosanctum Concilium. (And would make a whole lot of angry neo-trads a whole lot less angry).

Another, less obvious, point is the use of the Divine Office.

“Pastors of souls should see to it that the chief hours, especially Vespers, are celebrated in common in church on Sundays and the more solemn feasts. And the laity, too, are encouraged to recite the divine office, either with the priests, or among themselves, or even individually.”

I grew up having somewhat regular experience with what I knew as “the Liturgy of the Hours,” and I know that it played a big part in my spirtual growth. And I’ve met many other progressives (usually of the intellecual-liberal set- the kind of people who go to Lay Pastoral Ministry Institutes and such) who have likewise had excellent experiences with the Divine Office. A few of them have even made gret strides in introducing this “public prayer of the church” to their home congregations. But it’s the Traditionalists who seem to be the most active and vocal about championing this means of sanctifying “the whole course of the day and night.”

It’s been almost 50 years since the Council encouraged us to revive this “ceaseless prayer,” but most parishes (as far as I am aware) don’t do it, and most Catholics don’t even know what it is. This is especially striking considering that the Divine Office is a perfect prayer form for progressive parishes: liturgy which can be led by lay people, even women.

So, have we done anything right in the last 40 years?

Or should we all subscribe to the NLM blog, find ourselves a good Extraordinary Form Mass, and burn our Gather Comprehensives?

Well, no- of course not. The progressive’s understanding of SC isn’t as far off the mark as the Reform of the Reform people would like us to think. For today, let’s stick with the subject closest to my own heart- musical style.

“Other kinds of sacred music, especially polyphony, are by no means excluded from liturgical celebrations, so long as they accord with the spirit of the liturgical action.”

Clearly, the Council had no intention of restricting us to Gregorian chant alone. And polyphony is not the only style “not excluded,” simply the only one important enough to mention. SC does not prescribe a style or set of styles, and (thank God!) so far no other Vatican decree has done so. The only requirement being that any piece of music be “in accord with the spirit of the liturgical action.” Many Traditionalists (especially the particularly conservative and angry ones) will try to set themselves up as arbiters of what music is and isn’t “in accord with the spirit of the liturgical action.” But if the Bishops of Vatican II didn’t feel it appropriate to make a list of approved songs, composers, and styles, neither should disaffected laypeople.

Further, the musical styles that have become prevalent in the English speaking world are “covered,” so to speak, by the text:

“In certain parts of the world, especially mission lands, there are peoples who have their own musical traditions, and these play a great part in their religious and social life. For this reason due importance is to be attached to their music, and a suitable place is to be given to it, not only in forming their attitude toward religion, but also in adapting worship to their native genius.”

America has its own musical traditions that play an important part in our religous and social life: shape note hymns of early Protestantism, Black Gospel and Spirituals, and (yes) contemporary folk, rock, and pop styles. The directive to include native styles doesn’t only apply to mission lands, just “especially” to mission lands. And besides that- given the current religous demographics of this country, the U.S. might even qualify as a “mission land.” (That is, if you really mean “a country in need of mission work,” instead of using the phrase as a code for “a place full of non-white people.”)

Further, the Council clearly hoped for the continuing creation of new music and art for the liturgy:

“Composers, filled with the Christian spirit, should feel that their vocation is to cultivate sacred music and increase its store of treasures.

Let them produce compositions which have the qualities proper to genuine sacred music, not confining themselves to works which can be sung only by large choirs, but providing also for the needs of small choirs and for the active participation of the entire assembly of the faithful.”

“Active participation” here can only mean “congregational singing,” which means that the Church doesn’t just want more great pieces for the Schola, but rather music (presumably in the vernacular) that the whole congregation can sing. With due respect for the Mass Propers, where but the four customary “song slots” is this music supposed to go?

As to the contention that certain styles, regardless of quality, are simply more suited to the Roman Liturgy:

“The Church has not adopted any particular style of art as her very own; she has admitted styles from every period according to the natural talents and circumstances of peoples, and the needs of the various rites.”

That paragraph is from the section on Sacred Art and Furnishings, so it is addressed specifically to visual art. But, in light of the other statements made about music, it seems this is the attitude we are to take towards all artistic endeavors, including music.

So, what then?

Does there need, then, to be a Reform of the Reform?

Probably, but not the one that is currently in motion. And also not one handed down from a group of men in another country. The right RotR will happen organically if The Institution (and lay leaders and influencers) embark on a sincere campaign of education and formation. It will happen organically if we acknowledge and appreciate everything that has gone so well over the last 50 years, as well as what we did poorly. It will happen if Progressives and Traditionalists spend more time talking to each other in love rather than in debate. It will happen if Guitar mass people get a chance to experience really great chant, and if Extraordinary Form people can hear authentically executed contemporary music. It will happen if we rely on the guidance of the Holy Spirit instead of our own inventive whims. It will happen if we learn that some of our inventive whims are the nudge of the Spirit.

And what would this RE-reformed liturgy look like? Well, I have a preference, and an idea. Certainly, there would be more Latin, more chant. Certainly the very best of the contemporary music would be retained and some of the dross would be left behind. Maybe we’ll stop holding hands for the Lord’s Prayer. Hopefully priests will continue using Gothic style chausibles (they’re so pretty!).

Beyond that, while I do have a plan in mind (if it were my job to implement these things), but for now I think it best to leave the rest up to your religous imagination. Guided by the Holy Spirit, it is that imagination which will ultimately determine the form of those things which are “subject to change.”

Let alone the “hard stuff” like Sacred Polyphony and organ preludes, most choir directors aren’t qualified to do the contemporary styles that are so popular. I’m convinced that this is one of the reasons for the Traditionalists distaste for rock/pop styles- they tend not to have heard them done well or authentically. (C’mon people- clap on beat 2 and beat 4, not 1 and 3… is that so hard?!) I think a lot of progressives dislike “old, boring” music for the same reason. Badly performed Palestrina is not much worthier than badly perfomed Carey Landrey.

And I don’t think very many other progressive/modernists would dispute their assessment either.

Catholic musicians, even those of us who love the contemporary styles and work in parishes where that is the norm, should have a firm grounding in the traditional styles of Catholic music. Chant and polyphony form the basic foundation for all quality music in the Western world, even today’s pop. The musicianship, discipline, and ear for quality that one learns when studying “classical” music makes you a better musician, regardless of what style you plan to play in. That’s why Jazz students learn Bach.

That’s one of the reasons that, while I’m generally happy about the new music we have gained in the last 50 years, I’m intensely sad about the amount of old music we have lost. And I think that’s a sentiment even most liberals could get on board with.

So what’s to be done. Well, that’s tough, but I’m pretty sure here too, modernists (if they stopped chasing every new trend) and traditionalists (if they stopped sounding so angry) could come to some serious agreements on methodology and intent. Step one is for all of us join hands and voices and demand: better musicians. Stop hiring the first guitar-playing volunteer who shows up. Stop equating “able to play piano proficiently” with “able to lead a choir.”

From there, a host of individual steps need to be taken at the institutional and individual level.

Hiring preference should be given to those with a choral background (who can hire organists and pianists as needed), rather than to instrumentalists who don’t really know how to sing, conduct, or teach.

Seminaries should teach music skills, particularly critical listening. We don’t need to turn priests into performers, but they need to be able to tell good singing from bad singing. (That doesn’t just mean teaching them that this composer or work is good and that one is bad. That also means helping them identify the difference between mechanical precision and artistic beauty, between amateur proficiency and professional quality.)

As to parish music directors-
Stop having rehearsal in the sanctuary right before mass. That’s been bugging me since I was in elementary school. It interupts personal prayer and communal socializing, and it sends everyone the message that preparing music for liturgy is barely worth an extra 45 minutes of everyone’s time.

Organs may be too expensive and/or pastorally inappropriate for some parishes. But an out of tune spinet or a hum-n-strum guitarist is an insult, no matter what style of music you like. Invest at least in a decent grand piano. A used Yamaha baby grand in excellent condition is within range of most parish budgets, and people will give to a special collection if they have a concrete goal.

While we’re on the subject of instruments, synthesizers should be banned. I don’t say “banned” alot about church music, but they should be banned- for the same reason we shouldn’t allow fake flowers, moving spotlights, or those ridiculous electric flickering coin-op votives. There is no place for artificiality within the liturgy. None.

Most importantly, we need to look to the children. Scholarships are nice, but they don’t help much if there isn’t a love of music and the necessary discipline, and that must begin in childhood.

Children’s choirs need to be more than an opportunity for parents to see their kids onstage at Christmas. Children’s choirs should be an integral part of every parish, and they should follow the English chorister tradition. Children should learn to read music (I recommend Conversational Solfege), to sing correctly, and to become increasingly responsible for the leadership of their choir. It’s amazing how much children are capable of in this regard if we treat them like humans with musical and spiritual aspirations instead of like dogs who perform novelty tricks for treats.

Music directors, whether they play organ, piano, guitar, or hammer dulcimer need to make themselves available to give private lessons, especially to the kids who show an interest in church music particularly, and even more especially to those who wouldn’t otherwise be able to afford private lessons. As soon as they are competent, these kids need to have the opportunity to play for mass (in a way that doesn’t set them up for public embarasment or detract from the prayerful purpose of worship).

Musically active high school students should be given leadership opportunities: accompanying, conducting, writing descants, leading warm-ups. And they should be given the opportunity to attend workshops and conferences such as those given by the CMAA, NPM, and ACDA. Above all, it’s important for High School students to understand that church music is a viable career option.

And all of this should be grounded in high quality music choices. Yes, I think that includes some contemporary styles (I know you don’t all agree with that), but the bulk of the literature should be things like Gregorian Chant, Palestrina, Bach, Thomas Tallis, John Rutter, Richard Proulx- because that’s where you learn musicianship and technique. That music presents a challenge, and kids love challenges.
(And while we’re on “quality” literature: Let’s assume for a minute that I’m right in that contemporary styles and pop/rock/folk music are appropriate for Mass… it isn’t ALL appropriate for Mass. That piece in Spirit and Song that sounds like “Can you feel the love tonight” has got to go. And “Fill My Cup Lord” makes everyone giggle every single time because it sounds just like “Hello mudah, hello fadah, here I am at camp grenada.” License to do contemporary music should not mean you turn off your brain or ignore the snickering just because the text fits the readings.)

I believe very strongly that Modernist-Liberals and Traditionalist-Conservatives can come together, and agree on the need for quality and the methodology I’ve just outlined.

If everything I just suggested was suddenly implemented overnight, it would still take a generation before Catholic parish music is where it ought to be. That means we cannot delay, as there is so much work to be done. It also means that, while pastors and musicians on the front lines need to keep one eye on pastoral, budgetary, and (dare I say it) populist concerns, they need to keep their better eye on the future, and not exchange the hard work of moving onward and upward for convenience or expediency.

I must say, as I finish up, that I am sometimes deeply bothered by those who seem to obsess over music, liturgy, and ritual (even though I like them) because Jesus clearly was more concerned with things like feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, comforting the dying, visiting the imprisoned, and caring for orphans than He was with things like proper ritualism.

But, I think a certain amount of obsession, by those who are called to it, is actually quite worthwhile. It is in the public liturgy of the church that we come to understand the love of Christ which we are called to emulate. It is in the sacrifice of the Mass, dwelling in the sacrifice of Jesus, that we hear our calling to sacrifice ourselves. Recognizing Christ in the Eucharist, recognizing Christ in the assembled family of believers, gives us the eyes to recognize Christ in His “disturbing disguises” out in the world. We know how to clothe the naked because our God has clothed us in the garment of Baptism; we know how to feed the hungry because our God has fed us with His very body; we know how to comfort the dying because Our Lord has died in our midst; we know how to visit the imprisoned because God has visited us in the prison of our sin; we know how to care for orphans because our God has given us a spirit of adoption…

So, yes- what we do in Mass is important, rightly to be called the “source and summit” of our Christian lives. And we must take care to bring our best to it, and teach our children to do the same.

Finally, I believe with all my heart that all sincere Catholics, regardless of their liturgical/political/theological predilections, can also agree on the need for the most important tactic: fervent prayer. It was, afterall, Grace that hath led us safe thus far, and grace alone will lead us home.

So what is the new thing? Mercy, apparently. Jesus does not condemn the adulterous woman, but rather admonishes her to sin no more. Obviously, the adulterous woman is us- we who are unfaithful to the covenant God has made with us. Like the animals in the Abrahamic ritual a few weeks ago, we ought to be torn in two for our infidelity. But God, in Christ Jesus, reaches out to us in forgiveness and mercy.

And Paul makes sure we understand something else- while we are admonished to “sin no longer,” it is not our own self-improvement that is our salvation from the wages of our own sin, but rather our “sharing of his sufferings by being conformed to his death.” That is, when we participate in his death through baptism (we’ll hear all about this from Paul at the Easter Vigil), we take hold of the righteousness of the resurrection.

But it doesn’t end there for Paul, nor should it for us. We are not simply absolved of our duty to “sin no longer.” Baptism may be a one time event, but conformity to the sufferings of Christ, is a lifelong process- even for someone with as miraculously spectacular a conversion experience as Paul.

And I’m not just liberal liturgist who wants to complain about the text being hard to sing. I have studied Latin, and can competently read and worship the Latin Mass. I support an increased use of Gregorian chant (in both Latin and English) in the communal prayer life of the church.

HOWEVER-

Latin and English are not the same language, and everyone who has ever tried to translate a Bible passage, a hymn, a poem, or even basic instructional information from one language to another knows that word-for-word translating leads to confusion, awkwardness, and misunderstanding.

Further-
People come to Mass to pray, to commune with God and each other, to sing, to worship, and to receive the grace of the Eucharist. EVEN IF the new translations were demonstrably better, more poetic, and more in line with the original meaning, the change would still be an awkward interruption of the celebration of Mass. People come to learn about God, not to learn about other people’s linguistic concerns.

The last 50 years have seen Catholics all over the world, and especially in America, subjected to fads, re-interpretations, corrections, expansions, changes, omissions, decrees, experiments, and back-pedaling.

Stand now, or kneel now. Hold hands. No, don’t. Sing these songs only. Don’t sing those songs ever. Tabernacle there. No wait, tabernacle over there. No wait- it’s better to put it in it’s own room. What kind of bread are we using? Let’s have a special procession for the book of the Gospels. Quick- get rid of the glass chalices. Liturgical dance is great. Liturgical dance is an abomination. What should we call CCD? Stop singing, “Yahweh is my shepherd now.” The precious blood will give you swine flu.

Do we really want to have yet another top-down “opportunity for parish-wide catechesis?”

This post was taken from my comments on an online petition I encourage you to read and support:
What if we just said wait?